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“Yeah,” he says, sounding strangled. He touches his forehead against mine. “You’re alive.”

“Don’t you have reports and paperwork and evidence to prepare for court?” I ask. “We did get the bad guys, right?”

“Yeah,” Nathan says. “We got all of them. Even Bijoux.”

“We make a pretty good team, you and me.” He nods in agreement and gives my fingers a little squeeze. “Congrats. Go celebrate your win. You don’t have to be here.”

“Of course I don’t. But I want to be. And if you didn’t want me here, then you shouldn’t have made me your emergency contact.” He raises an eyebrow my way.

Oh yeah. I forgot about that.

“I meant to tell you.”

This time, Nathan repeats in a more serious tone, “You made me your emergency contact.”

He doesn’t sound burdened by it. Instead, he sounds… touched?

“I take that kind of thing seriously,” he adds.

I feel my mouth curve into a small smile. “That’s exactly why I did it.”

“Because I pick up my phone?”

“Spammers love to see your number on a call sheet.”

Nathan huffs out a laugh. “I know this would’ve been hard to explain to family.”

I take a few breaths. “Yes, but that’s not why I did it. I trust you,” I admit. And maybe because a small—fine, a big—piece of me wanted him to know that, in case something did happen to me, I could count on him to make a hard choice if one had to be made. “I trust you more than anyone.”

He leans forward. “I guess now’s a good time to tell you that you’re mine, too.”

Maybe it’s the pain relievers or fatigue, but hearing this makes me want to cry. Me! Nathan Lambros made me his emergency contact. I’m irrationally giddy. Well, as giddy as a person can feel post-surgery.

“So, what did you decide for me on”—I gesture toward my arm—“this.”

Nathan sits back and blows out a breath. “The bullet went straight through. There’s no bone damage, but your muscles and tendons were affected. There’s a chance you might not get full movement back. You won’t be able to use your left arm for a few weeks, probably months.” His face relaxes. “You’re going to be okay, though. That’s all that matters.”

The news lands harder than I thought it would. “Whoa.”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing his jaw. My gaze falls to the dimple smack dab in the center of his chin before drifting back to his eyes.

Now that Bijoux’s been arrested, is this the last time I’ll see Nathan? This could’ve been our last mission, last Christmas, last anything together.

I can’t think about that right now. There aren’t enough pain relievers in the world to numb that kind of hurt. I blink away the sting of oncoming tears, but my eyelids are weighed down with exhaustion and it’s possible one escapes.

“What happened to the dog?” I ask, changing topics.

“Miss Starlite’s fine, but only because she had a life jacket on,” Nathan says. “Hawk used that little thing like a buoy.”

A laugh slips out. “Ow!” I carefully adjust myself in the bed. “And the plus-ones?”

“Apparently, a lot of lawyers were called.” Nathan runs his hand down his face. “The captain took them back to shore.”

I probably shouldn’t feel bad for everyone affected by their partners’ crimes, but I do. “They didn’t even get to say goodbye,” I say, thinking about how I almost didn’t get to say bye to Nathan. “Maybe we helped them by giving them a chance to start over.”

His eyes darken. “Yeah, maybe. But that’s not what’s important right now. You are. Is there anything I can get you?”

I pull the thin blanket up to my neck. “I’m cold.”