“Sounds fun.”
“Sun. Beach. Drinks with little umbrellas. Maybe some fishing.”
“And guess who is on the guest list,” Ham said.
Dakota glanced at him.
“Britta White.”
“The president’s daughter?”
“And half the Secret Service,” Ham said. He smiled. “But security is someone else’s job this time. We’re just guests.”
Sure they were.
But Dakota squeezed Jayden’s hand. “What do you say? Three weeks of recovery, then we fly to Florida. Celebrate with family. Pretend to be normal people for a few days.”
Jayden considered, her thumb tracing patterns on his hand. “Fine. One condition.”
“Name it.”
“Can we drive?” Her eyes glinted with something between trauma and humor. “I am never checking a bag again.”
Dakota laughed, the release of tension and terror and hope all tangled together. The sound filled the small hospital room, bouncing off the monitors and the white walls and the window where Sydney’s skyline glittered in the afternoon light.
Jayden laughed too, wincing as the movement pulled at her stitches, but not stopping. And for a moment—just a moment—everything was okay.
Ham shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll leave you two to your vacation planning. Try to stay out of trouble for at least twenty-four hours.”
“No promises,” Jayden said.
West clapped Dakota on the shoulder as he and Ham headed for the door. “Glad she’s okay, man. See you back home.”
Then they were gone, and it was just Dakota and Jayden in the quiet hospital room, the beeping of monitors a steady rhythm beneath their conversation.
“Key West,” she said, testing the words. “I’ve never been there.”
“You’ll love it. Water’s beautiful. Sunsets are incredible. Hotels . . . all five-star.”
“Mmm.” She was fighting to keep her eyes open now, the exhaustion finally catching up with her. “Stay with me?”
“Always.” He lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Her eyes drifted closed, but the smile stayed on her face. “Dakota?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for saving me.”
“It’s what I do.”
He sat there in the quiet, holding her hand, watching her breathe, watching her sleep. Outside the window, Sydney sparkled in the afternoon light, the Harbour Bridge arching across the water like a promise.
Somewhere out there, sure, Alan Martin was planning his next move.
But right now—right here—there was just this. A hospital room in Sydney. A woman he loved. A future he was finally learning to have faith in.
Dakota closed his eyes and let himself sink into his happy ending.
