28. Sutton #2
Luke takes the other edge of the blanket and pulls it down, exposing Hunter completely.
I burst out laughing.
Luke takes one look at Hunter and doubles over.
Hunter is wearing briefs covered in ornaments, with a Grinch hand holding a large ornament over the pouch.
At that exact moment, the nurse walks in holding a water cup with a bendy straw. “Well.” The nurse suppresses a giggle. “You don’t see that every day.”
“Bro,” Luke says between fits of laughter, “you know the rule—always have clean underwear on.”
“They are clean.” Hunter’s face flames, something I don’t think I’ve ever seen.
“What are you even wearing?” Luke can barely get the question out.
“They were supposed to be a surprise for Sutton. She loves the Grinch.”
“They are pretty great,” I say, and peck Hunter on the cheek.
“Hmm, kinky,” the nurse says, grinning. “I’ll be back in a bit with more pain medicine.”
She steps from the room while Luke and I finish getting Hunter changed.
Once he’s dressed and settled in his bed, I gather the pile of his ruined clothes into a plastic bag.
Luke sits on Hunter’s right, but I’m still too jittery to sit.
I grab Hunter’s water and hold it to his lips. He takes a long drink.
“They forgot your boots,” I suddenly remember. “Let me run back to the ER and I’ll—”
“Sutton.” Hunter’s firm tone pierces my chest, pulling my gaze to his. “Luke can get them.”
“But I can hel—”
“I know you can help.” Hunter pats a small space on his bed. “I need you here. Luke can get the boots.”
“On it,” Luke says and exits the room.
Hunter squeezes my hand once. “You’re too far away.”
I sit on the edge of the bed. He snakes his good hand around my side and up the back of my sweater, warm palm pressing against my low back. The touch soothes my frazzled nerves.
“I’m supposed to be making you feel better,” I say, “not the other way around.”
“You are making me feel better.” His eyelids flutter, heavier now as the exhaustion kicks in.
Luke returns with the boots and leaves again to fill in the rest of our friends. The nurse comes back, and I reluctantly step away from Hunter to give her the space she needs to work. She injects a clear liquid into his IV.
“What is that?” I ask her.
“His next dose of his pain meds.” She touches my shoulder. “Page me if either of you need anything.”
I can tell the instant the medication reaches his bloodstream because his shoulders relax against the mattress. His eyes close, the creases near his eyes smoothing out. Within minutes, he drifts off to sleep.
Some time later, a soft knock pulls my attention. Hushed whispers and shuffling footsteps follow, and Vinnie’s head pokes in.
“Hey,” Navy whispers from over his shoulder. “Mind if we come in?”
My first instinct is to shoo them away so Hunter can rest, but I know he’d want to see them. I nod.
“Baby,” I say, smoothing my hand down the side of his face. “You’ve got some people here to see you.”
Hunter blinks awake. “Hey, guys,” he mumbles, voice groggy.
They pile in—Vinnie, Navy, Luke, Greer, Adam, and Grace—packing the room way past the visitor limit. Luke closes the door quickly before any nurses notice. The guys crowd around Hunter immediately, peppering him with questions.
“It was a freak accident,” Hunter says, launching into the story.
“You idiot.” Luke shakes his head and paces at the end of the hospital bed.
“That was a huge fucking fire, Hunter, even for those of us who fight fire for a living. You had no business going back to that warehouse less than twenty-four hours after we put the damn thing out. That structure wasn’t stable, there were still hotspots, and God knows what kind of chemicals were lingering in the air.
Hell, you shouldn’t have been there at all.
Last I checked, you’re not a fire investigator. ”
“Okay, Dad,” Hunter rasps.
“Hunter,” Luke’s voice clogs with sudden emotion.
Adam grips Luke’s shoulder.
“I think what he’s trying to say,” Vinnie says, “is let the fireman do fireman things, and you stick to doing cop things.”
“Technically, I was doing cop things,” Hunter says with a weak smile.
Luke drags a hand down his face, shoulders sagging. “Yeah. Well. Don’t make us plan your funeral just because you’re wanting to solve a case a little faster.”
The room goes quiet.
“I wasn’t trying to be some kind of hotshot. Donelly said I could shadow him.” Hunter’s eyelids lift enough to find me. “And who knows what would have happened to him had I not been there.”
I swallow against the lump forming in my throat. The instinct to shoulder everything is a feeling I know all too well.
“I’m sure he’s grateful,” Grace says.
“Knock, knock,” the nurse says, tapping lightly on the door. She peeks in, eyes narrowing. “There are more of you than the last time I came in.”
Everyone tosses out bogus excuses at the same time.
“As interesting as this all is,” the nurse says, “visiting hours are over, and Hunter needs to rest.”
Everyone gives Hunter a light hug or a fist bump. Luke pauses longest, gripping Hunter’s ankle through the blanket. “Don’t scare us like that again,” he says quietly. “Sutton, we’ll be in the lobby.” Then he’s gone.
The room settles. Machines hum. Hunter’s breathing evens out. I sink back into the chair, fingers finding his. His thumb curls against my palm, even half-asleep. I lower my head to our joined hands.
“You can’t do that again,” I whisper. “I can’t lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, eyes still closed.
A calmness filters through my body. Because I trust him, even if trusting him feels like stepping off a cliff.
Because the real risk isn’t in the fire, the falling beams, or burns or broken arms. It’s here, in letting myself care this much, letting myself love him, letting go completely and risking the part of me that could break if I ever lose him.
“You’re still in trouble,” I whisper.
“You said that already.” His eyes open, mischief flickering through the fatigue. “Can it be the naked kind?”
“I swear, Hunter.”
He laughs, wincing slightly, and I straighten, brushing my thumb across his knuckles.
“Get some sleep, okay?” I kiss his hand.
“Love you, babe.”
“I love you too.”
I turn the lights off and glance back at him one last time before I leave his room. The soft glow from the monitor washes over his face.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”