Finally, I collapse onto the couch with a painful grunt. The relief hits almost immediately, but it’s not the sweet, satisfyingkind. It’s more like a temporary truce. My ribs protest the sudden shift, sending jolts of pain through my entire body, but at least I’m not on my feet anymore.
“Well,” I gasp, letting my head fall back against the cushions, “that only took three grown adults and a minor miracle. Next time, let’s just rent a crane.”
Knox snorts again, dropping into the armchair across from me, looking far too comfortable for someone who just helped drag me across the room like a sack of potatoes. “Noted. I’ll call the heavy machinery guys for backup.”
Bree, hovering nearby with her arms crossed, lets out an exasperated laugh. “If you’re well enough to joke, you’re well enough to listen to me. You’re staying put now.”
I flash her a weak grin. “Stay put? Sunshine, you’re looking at the king of mobility right here.”
She rolls her eyes, but it’s softer now. She steps closer and grabs a throw pillow, tucking it behind my back with a tenderness that almost makes my chest ache. “King of mobility, huh? More like king of stubbornness.”
“Guilty,” I admit, sinking into the couch with a sigh. For the first time all day, I can breathe. Painfully, but still.
“You know,” Knox chimes in, “I think I preferred you unconscious. At least then you weren’t talking back.”
I shoot him a glare, but it’s weak at best. “Careful, brother. I might be down, but I’m not out.”
Bree groans, her fingers brushing my hair back from my forehead with a gentleness that makes everything else a little less painful. “You need to rest. No more heroics for today.”
I catch her hand, bringing it to my lips and pressing a kiss to her palm. “Yes, ma’am.”
Knox clears his throat and stands up. “Well, now that you’re settled, I should head out. Got some work to catch up on at the distillery.”
“Aye, I’m out of here, too. Gotta report back to your mother,” my stepdad adds, clapping me gently on the shoulder before heading for the door.
“Thanks for the help, guys.”
As they leave, Bree settles on the edge of the couch beside me, her hand resting gently on my arm. “Do you need anything? Water?”
I shift, wincing as my ribs protest the movement. “A time machine to go back and avoid that damn deer would be nice,” I mutter while trying, and failing, to get comfortable.
She huffs a quiet laugh, though her eyes are still shadowed with concern. “Sorry, fresh out of time machines. Anything else?”
I glance at her, catching the way her fingers tighten just slightly on my arm. “I guess I could settle for my personal nurse instead.”
She shifts closer, moving with care before she leans back against the couch. “Don’t push your luck,” she murmurs, but I hear the smile in her voice.
I close my eyes, letting out a slow breath. I try to find some peace in the discomfort. The pain is still there, a persistent throb that presses at the edges of my mind, threatening to swallow me whole if I let it.
“You know,” I say, “I never thought I’d be so happy to see this old couch.”
Her hand moves to my hair, her fingers gently combing through the strands. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see you on it,” she replies quietly.
I crack one eye open, looking down at her. There’s still a shadow of worry in her eyes.
“I want to kiss you,” I mumble.
Her lips twitch into a smile. “Then kiss me.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, glaring at my own body like thetraitor it is. “Would love to,” I mutter, “but I can’tfeckingmove. Pretty sure even my eyelashes are broken.”
“Don’t worry, tough guy,” she says, leaning in. “I’ve got you covered this time.”
Her lips brush mine. It’s quick but perfect. I barely have time to savor it before the pain meds start pulling me under.
thirty-nine
BREE
