Her eyes slowly opened, shamrock green and unfocused. She blinked.
He cupped her angled jaw, gentling his hold on her soft skin. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She rubbed her chin. “Even a short time in a cell was too much. Sometimes I dream of small places where the walls keep closing in.”
“You’re safe now.” He traced her full lips with his thumb, and his body started to wake up despite the aches. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.” Even if the unit disbanded, he’d make sure she ended up somewhere safe and on the right side of the law.
She leaned into his touch. “I won’t break the law again, even for a good cause.” Her eyes clouded. “Raider, I—”
His phone buzzed from the bed table and he reached for it, reading the face. “Force wants everybody in the office in an hour to plan the next phase of the op.” Shouldn’t Force be in bed somewhere? The guy definitely had a concussion along with internal bleeding.
Brigid sighed. “What’s the next phase?”
“I have to go back in.” The last person on this earth he wanted to see was Eddie Coonan. He could be ready in ten minutes, and it took about twenty to get to headquarters. That left them thirty minutes. Ducking his head, he swept his mouth against hers.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Taking a minute, or thirty.” Moving carefully, he rolled over, right on top of her. Good. No big pains.
She chuckled and caressed his flanks, wiggling her butt and widening her thighs to make more room for him. “Wait a minute. How’s your shoulder? The doctor said to refrain from using it and maybe wear a sling for a week or so.”
His dick pounded against her soft panties. “The injury is an old one and won’t even slow me down now that the shoulder is back in place.” He’d initially injured it being tossed off a bridge. “Ibuprofen at regular intervals for the week is more than sufficient.” He could still aim, shoot, or fight, and that was all that mattered. “For now, why don’t you baby me?”
Her grin was all sauce. “I suppose I could—” A pounding on the exterior door jerked her head toward the bedroom doorway. “What in the world?” she breathed.
“Guys? I brought lattes. Let me in, or I’ll break the door down,” Wolfe called out, his voice way too cheerful. “I’ll drive you to work.”
Raider groaned as his body tried to adjust, but he just wanted to keep playing with Brigid. “I’m gonna kill him.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Exhaustion pulled at Brigid as she walked into the HDD bullpen, supersweet latte in hand. Wolfe had already dodged into case room one to deliver coffee to Angus, Malcolm, and Nari. Raider moved at her side, surprisingly graceful. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. This was nothing. I’m not ready to fight or go jogging, but I’m solid.” A phone buzzed, and he drew two from his jacket pocket. “It’s the burner.”
She caught her breath as he stopped and pressed the button for the speakerphone. “Times here.”
“Hi, Raider. It’s Eddie.” His voice sounded muffled over the phone. “I can’t meet tonight—raincheck for tomorrow morning? Say around nine?”
Angus and Wolfe emerged silently from the conference room and stopped to listen.
Raider frowned. “What’s going on? I don’t like changing plans.”
“What’s going on is that my good friend Sean has disappeared from the local hospital, and I’m worried about him.” Anger and tension rode Eddie’s tone. “There’s no chance you have an inkling of where he went, is there?”
Raider grimaced and leaned against his desk. “Dude, I have no clue. I’ve been sleeping since, ah, our meeting yesterday. Have a raging headache.”
“Must’ve been too much beer,” Eddie said.
Man, he was careful over the phone. Was that a lesson learned from the tape recordings her father had hidden for years? Brigid swallowed, not moving too much.
“Yeah,” Raider agreed. “Okay. I’ll be at your bar at nine in the morning. Any chance you serve breakfast?”
“No. Eat before you get here, and don’t be late.” Eddie ended the call.
Raider pressed a button. He focused on Angus. “Are we sure we have Sean locked down this time?”
A perfect steering-wheel imprint had turned purple across Angus’s forehead, and a sling held his arm against his ribs. Even his eyes looked swollen. “The records and the cameras at the hospital, should Eddie somehow get his hands on them, will show that Sean checked himself out and hopped in a dented 1990 blue Kia driven by a young-looking brunette with big boobs.”
