“Or avoiding.” His thumb brushed the back of her hand. “I want you to know that I heard you. What you said about me sending you away—about being in the same house was unfortunate. I understand it wasn’t just the words—it was what they felt like, especially because of what’s happening.”
The lump in her throat tightened as a nurse passed them in a hurry. “Not the right place,” she whispered.
“I’ve never had good timing. But I needed to tell you, and I want to discuss it.”
“After I’ve seen my friend.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down to kiss her—just enough pressure to make her heart skip, not enough to make her forget the words he’d used yesterday that cut deeper than she wanted to admit. “I’m going to walk around a little, but I won’t be far.”
She stood there a beat longer after he let go, trying to remember how to breathe. She watched him stroll down the hallway with that sexy swagger he had. Every bone in her body knew he wasn’t going to abandon her when she needed him most. He was that kind of person. But he was also running from ghosts and hiding from the past.
Something she knew a little bit about.
She pushed all that out of her mind, turned, and pulled the door open.
Trent looked like hell—but a defiant kind of hell. His color was better, the bandages on his side were fresh, and the nurses had probably already surrendered to his charm. A vase of flowers sat on the tray table, and a half-eaten pudding cup balanced precariously on his chest.
“Well, look who it is,” he said, voice rough but cocky. “I thought you’d be out saving the world—or at least trying to figure out who took a pot shot at you.”
“Taking a coffee break from heroism,” she said, easing closer. “You look good for a guy who took a bullet for me.”
“Just another day in the swamp. Heard you had a little more excitement last night.”
She winced. “Word travels fast.”
“Small town. And a few of the nurses were talking about your little sleepover. They might have been disappointed that Buddy’s now off the market and commenting on your choice of bed partners.”
Her cheeks went hot. “Jesus, Trent.”
He smirked. “I’m just saying, you do have interesting taste in men and sometimes that puts you in precarious situations.”
She sank into the chair beside him, elbows on her knees. “It’s not funny. Somebody’s toying with him—with us. And I don’t know what comes next.”
His teasing expression softened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve poked fun—before I asked if you were okay. Are you?”
“Not really.” She rubbed her palms together, staring at the scuffs on her boots. “I think I’m falling for him, and I don’t know what to do with that.”
He chuckled. “You mean like you fall for all the guys, or like you fell for me?”
That pulled a laugh out of her. However, there was a distinction between the men that made her rethink her life for five minutes, and the only man who’d made her consider a different path, except Trent hadn’t been prepared for that storm. “You loved me a little.”
“Only because you could wrestle a gator. and my mom still asks about you.” He smiled, a tired, real smile. “We were good, you and me—while we lasted. But we were meant to be friends.”
“I figured that out—eventually.” She leaned back, arms crossed loosely. Trent had been the only man to put a real ache in her chest. He hadn’t broken her heart because he was right, they weren’t supposed to be a couple. Given enough time, they would’ve killed each other. But he’d been the first man she’d truly fallen in love with.
He lifted a brow. “What is it with you and older men?”
“Daddy issues?”
“Another thing we’ve got in common,” he said. “Only my shrink says mine are more authority issues because I’m pissed off at the government and how I perceive what they did to my dad.”
She and Trent had bonded over loss more than once. He’d been a kind older friend when Tessa had vanished. That’s probably where the crush had started. And he’d been a shoulder to cry on when her parents had died. It was rare that Trent opened up, but when he did, he cracked wide. “Since when do you see a therapist?”
“Since my mom was diagnosed with cancer, and the doctors say it's terminal, and the thought of losing another parent is messing with my desire to be a good person.”
That was a lot to unpack. It was also honest, raw, and pure Trent. He’d been doing a balancing act between being misunderstood and crossing the line since puberty. But being looked at as a person of interest in a serial killer case? That had changed him. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. What can I do?” She leaned forward and took his hand.
He squeezed. “You’re here. That’s enough. Cullen and Harley are helping out with Mallor’s Landing while I’m stuck in here and during my recovery. Silas and his wife are helping with my mom.” He swiped a hand across his mouth and down his jaw. “My mom won’t do chemo. Or radiation. Doctors say it will only prolong her life by a few months anyway and she doesn’t want to be sicker. She wants to enjoy what little time she has left, which they tell me isn’t long. Three months tops, if we’re lucky.”
