Callie took the seat next to her and reached for her hand under the blanket. With the cold no longer numbing her limbs, she jerked when her sister accidentally brushed her wrist.
“Hawkeye,” Lovell called, kneeling at her feet.
“Here,” the man replied, walking into the room carrying a bag she could only imagine was a first aid kit, although it looked like one on steroids.
“What are you doing?” she said, jerking her leg when Lovell’s hand closed around her ankle.
“Stop moving,” he ordered. “Your boots and wet socks need to come off.”
She started to insist on doing it herself, but his fingers deftly untied the laces below her knees, then loosened them all the way to the bottom. A silly thing to be mesmerized by, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
“I’m going to clean the cut on your cheek, but I want to start by checking your vitals; is that okay?” Hawkeye asked. She looked up into the man’s deep brown eyes. He held her gaze with a serious, though not unkind, one of his own. She nodded.
And so it went for the next twenty minutes. Hawkeye attended to her various scrapes and bruises and head wound. Lovell called for a clean pair of wool socks, filling them with pocket warmers before sliding them back onto her feet. Dottie—bless her—brought her a coffee liberally laced with whiskey. Callie hovered by her side. And everyone else shifted restlessly around the room as her body slowly warmed.
Thankfully, Mantis took charge and relayed everything he’d overheard her telling Ryan on the call during their walk in. All she had to think about was drinking her coffee and being grateful she’d made it.
“You need some food,” Amber said. “Can you eat?”
What she really wanted was bed, but again, if she wanted a good night’s sleep, Amber was right, she needed food. “Food,then shower, then bed? Gabe, you can take me home, right?” she asked.
Amber raised a hand, cutting off whatever Gabe was about to say while simultaneously silencing Lovell with a sharp look. “Food first. Something light, like a grilled cheese? Or chicken noodle soup?”
She didn’t think she had the strength to spoon soup into her mouth. She could try drinking it, but she’d need to hold the bowl steady enough not to spill. “Grilled cheese sounds perfect. Thank you.”
Amber nodded, then, with a vague gesture indicating the conversation could continue, she left the room.
“We’re all staying here tonight,” Gabe said, his eyes flickering to Lovell for approval as he spoke. She got it. She understood that Lovell probably felt guilty for her involvement in all this. But seriously, he was not her keeper, and they did not have to check in with him. He was damn lucky she was too tired to point that out.
“Fine,” she replied. “You have room for everyone, I assume?”
“All the members have rooms here, and there’s a guest wing for when…”
“When you have guests,” she supplied. No need for Lovell to dance around the work he and the Falcons did.
He nodded. “Philly gave his room to Kendall until she and Monk move into their new house in the spring, but there are plenty of rooms in the guest wing since Amber is the only one there now.”
“And showers?” She’d need a toilet, too, soon. The fact that she hadn’t needed one yet was a sign of how dehydrated she was, but the whiskey-laced coffee would remedy that.
“All the rooms have attached bathrooms. You won’t have a tub to soak in, but there’s a shower,” he answered.
She sighed. “Heavenly.”
“How about some water?” he asked, nodding to her mug. Her empty mug.
“I wouldn’t mind another one of those, but water is a better idea,” she replied. A glass appeared in front of her, and she took a tentative sip, grateful it wasn’t cold. The thought of anything chilly touching her ever again sounded about as appealing as a Brazilian bikini wax. She’d forget the deep, piercing iciness of her body at some point, but not any time soon.
Kendall yawned, and Daphne withdrew her free hand from underneath the blanket to look at her watch. Only to be met with a bandaged wrist, compliments of Lovell and Hawkeye.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Nearly one,” Callie answered.
Amber returned from the kitchen carrying a plate that she carefully handed over as Lovell relieved her of the glass. Her stomach growled at the familiar smell of buttered, toasted bread and sharp, melty cheddar.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say this right away, but thank you, everyone,” she said, craning her neck to catch the eye of each person in the room. “I’m sure none of you were sitting around twiddling your thumbs after Callie discovered I was gone. Maybe tomorrow, someone can tell me, but for now, I’m going to eat this delicious-smelling sandwich. If you have any questions that Mantis didn’t already answer, now’s your time to ask, because as soon as I’m done, it will definitely be bedtime for me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
