Chapter 24
24
Cooper
EVERY-FUCKING-THING hurt.
There really was no forgetting being shot, so even before opening his eyes, he knew why he felt like a white dog turd rolled in prairie dust.
What he didn’t know, was why he wasn’t alone in the hospital bed.
Peeling his heavy lids open, Cooper craned his neck, trying to tuck his chin as tight as he could to peer down his right side. Just that little bit of movement was agony though, so a grunt of pain escaped before he could clamp it down.
The dark head he’d been looking for popped up, looking disheveled and matted. Isla’s red-rimmed eyes were puffy and bloodshot as they fixed on his face. “You’re awake.”
“And you should be at home sleeping in our bed.” He tried to shift around, hoping to give her more space on the too-small mattress. “Where in the hell is Grady? He should have taken you home.”
“He tried to make me go home.” Isla reached out, her hand hovering over his face a second before she yanked it back. “I told him to fuck off.”
He chuckled, a groan following right behind it as pain radiated through his chest. Even though it hurt like hell, he managed to grab the hand she’d reached out to him, lifting it back where she had it. “You can touch me, Princess. I’m fine.”
Isla sniffed, a single tear trailing down her cheek. “You aren’t fine. You were shot.”
“It’s a flesh wound.” He tried making light of the situation, even though his current situation made it a difficult task to accomplish.
“It’s not a flesh wound.” Isla’s gaze traveled to his shoulder, moving over the bandage covering it. “It hit your collarbone, breaking it and deflecting.” Her already pale skin lost even more color. “If it went the other direction, it could have hit your heart or a lung or—” Her voice broke on a sob that wracked her whole body.
“Come here.” He reached for her, bringing up his good arm to attempt to pull her close.
“What are you doing?” A stern voice stalled his efforts.
A short, older woman came striding into his room, eyes narrowed on where Isla was perched next to him. “He just had surgery.” Her non-slip orthopedic sneakers squeaked across the floor as she came to his side and inspected the IV bags feeding into his arm. “You can’t be climbing all over him.”
“She can do whatever she wants.” He grabbed Isla as she tried to slip away, managing to stop her retreat. “It makes me feel better.”
The nurse rolled her eyes but continued checking him over. “She better not try to make you feel too much better. This place has rules, and I’d hate to have to kick you out.”
It was hard to tell if she was teasing or not. The woman had zero inflection in her tone and her expression gave nothing away.
Just to be safe, he laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. This place doesn’t really scream romance.”
The nurse lifted her brows. “You’d think that.”
Isla’s nose wrinkled. “Gross.”
The nurse turned her way, face serious. “You have no idea.”
In spite of his hold on her, Isla managed to get off the edge of the bed as the nurse continued checking his vitals and inspecting the bandage. After that was done, she helped get him up and into the bathroom so he could get rid of some of the fluids they were pumping into him. His toothbrush was magically on the counter—along with the rest of his essentials—so he gave his teeth a quick scrub and swiped on a layer of deodorant. Then the nurse helped get him back in bed. Once he was back in place, with Isla adjusting his covers and pillow, the nurse began listing off information as she walked to the door.
“The surgeon should be here soon to check you out. She might change your bandage, might not. If you need to get up again, hit the call button and someone will come help you. I don’t want to have to pick your heavy butt up off the floor.” She stopped when she reached the doorway, turning to face him. “Your breakfast should be here soon. I don’t know what it is, your fiancée ordered it since you weren’t awake.”
She must have seen the look on his face because she quickly amended. “I just assumed she was your fiancée cause of that rock on her finger.” She shrugged. “But what do I know?” Then she turned and walked away.
Leaving him staring at Isla’s left hand. As claimed, the ring he’d purchased the day before sparkled from its place on her third finger, picking up every bit of the light in the room and reflecting it back at him.
“It was in the pocket of your shirt.” Isla started to pull it off. “I found it and didn’t want it to get lost.” She held it out. “But you can have it back.”
“That’s not mine, Princess.” No way in hell was he taking that thing back. She put it on her finger of her own free will, and that’s where it was staying.
Forever.
“That’s yours.”
Her dark eyes focused on the diamond, expression pinching into sadness. “Did I ruin your plans?”
He laughed. Loudly. “Sweetheart you are my plans.” He tipped his head toward the ring. “Now put that back on your finger and get in this bed.”
Isla’s smile lit up the room, easing a little of the pain throbbing across his bruised chest and damaged shoulder. “Okay.”
Unfortunately, before she could climb back onto the mattress, his promised breakfast arrived and she insisted on getting him fed.
“You need to eat.” Isla slid the adjustable table over his lap and lifted the top off a plate of scrambled eggs, limp bacon, and whole wheat toast. “It takes a lot of energy to heal.”
He looked her over. “How do you know how much energy it takes to heal?” He hadn’t noticed any scars marring her perfect skin. And he’d been over just about every inch of her the past week.
Multiple times.
Isla groaned. “That freaking reminds me.” She peeled back the wrap covering a plate of fruit. “You’ll never guess who showed up at my apartment.”
He didn’t even have to think about it. “Eric.”
Isla’s brows pinched. “How did you know?”
“Because it would take a complete fucking idiot to let you go, and since he’s a surgeon, he can’t be a total dumbass.” He knew it was coming. Kind of expected Isla’s ex to show up before now. “What did he say?”
She stared at him a second, blinking. “I don’t really remember.” Going back to his breakfast, she unrolled his flatware and handed him the fork. “I wasn’t listening really well to begin with, and then Grady called to tell me you were hurt and I pretty much blacked out. I just left him there, got in my car, and drove here as fast as I could.”
That had him frowning. “Grady didn’t send someone to come get you?” What the fuck was the man thinking? Isla was a new driver. There was no way she should have had to get herself to Billings, especially under dire circumstances.
Isla gave him a sheepish smile. “Like I said, my brain pretty much stopped working.” She lifted the lid off his coffee and added a tiny container of half and half to the steaming brew. “Apparently, he called me because Leland went to my apartment after Evelyn told them I’d left their house, but I wasn’t there. Then he went to your place and I wasn’t there either. He was calling me to find out where I was so Leland could bring me over, but I sort of lost my shit and hung up on him.”
He reached for her, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I’m so sorry, Princess. If I’d known what was going to happen I wouldn’t have?—”
“What?” Isla gave him a small smile. “You wouldn’t have gone into work?” She shook her head. “We both know that’s not true. That’s not how you are.” She took a deep breath, pulling her hand away so she could finish setting up his meal. “I’ll be okay. I just need to wrap my head around what it’s going to be like to be married to a police officer.”
“You do.” He watched as she put all her focus into buttering his lukewarm toast. “Out of curiosity, about how long do you think that will take?”
She lifted her eyes to his. “Why?”
He shrugged his good shoulder. “Just making plans. Trying to figure out if we’re looking at a winter wedding or a summer one.”
Isla chewed her lower lip. “Next winter is a long time away.”
He grinned. “I wasn’t talking about next winter.”
He’d marry her right there in the hospital room if she’d let him. He’d marry her at the courthouse. In his backyard. At The Inn at Red Cedar Ranch if she wanted something fancy.
Didn’t matter.
Isla’s mouth curved into a smile as she finished with his toast and came to sit beside him. “I bet a winter wedding would be pretty.”
“Any wedding with you in it is gonna be pretty.” He took a bite of the eggs. They weren’t awful, but they weren’t great. He shoveled more in though, because she would worry if he didn’t. “You pick the date and I’ll make it happen.”
Isla watched him eat, concern lining her brow. “Shouldn’t I meet your parents first? Are they going to be shocked?”
“No. They won’t be shocked.” He shoved in a mouthful of toast as hunger finally hit, talking around the bite. “I told them I was gonna marry you a week ago.”
* * *
“I feel like this was all just an elaborate plan to get out of having to move shit.” Leland grunted a little as he lifted one end of Isla’s mattress and helped Grady carry it out of the truck.
“You’re right.” Cooper walked alongside them, helping navigate the porch steps. “I got shot so I wouldn’t have to carry my fiancée’s bed into my house.”
“I swear to God, if I hear you say that word one more time, I’m going to punch you in the face.” Leland had shown up in a shit mood that morning and his disposition had only gone downhill since.
“I don’t know what crawled up your asshole and started to squirm, but you’re supposed to be being nice to me.” He opened the door, holding it as they passed through. “If it wasn’t me who ended up in the hospital, it would have been one of you two.”
But ending up in the hospital wasn’t actually the worst part about what happened that day. A scar, he could live with. Learning he’d taken a man’s life had been a hell of a lot more difficult to accept. It didn’t matter how or why it happened. Who fired first, or even the lack of choices he’d had.
He was still the reason a man was no longer alive, and it kept him up at night. Ate away at the edges of any happiness or joy he started to feel. It colored every thought he had and tightened every breath he took.
“The final report came back on that this morning. The chief called to let me know what they found.” Grady started up the steps, going backwards as Leland brought up the rear. “From what they can tell, he’d hidden a gun in that barn before he was arrested the first time and went back to get it as soon as he bailed out.”
Cooper trailed behind Leland, locked onto every word Grady said. “Why in the hell would he do that?”
“They ran ballistics on the gun he shot you with and got a hit.” Grady reached the landing and slid the mattress into the formerly empty room they were setting up as a guest space using Isla’s furniture from her apartment. After lining it onto the frame, he came to where Cooper stood, resting a palm on his uninjured shoulder. “It was the same weapon used in two murders in Billings.”
Grady probably thought this new information would change things, but it didn’t. Not really.
Was it possible he’d rid the world of a murderer? Maybe. But if that was the case, he’d also stolen the chance for two families to get justice and closure.
“How’s it going up here?” Isla walked in at just the right time.
She had a habit of doing that.
“Good.” He turned away from Grady, from the information he’d offered. Directing his attention to his saving grace, he pulled Isla against him, burying his face in her hair and breathing deep. “They’ve almost got everything out of the truck.”
Isla wrapped both arms around his middle, holding tight. Her voice was low enough only he could hear it as she asked, “Are you okay?”
Leaning back, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m better now that you’re here.”
It was an interaction they’d had often since he came home from the hospital. Between his injury and the events that accompanied it, he was on temporary leave from the department, so they’d been spending nearly all their time together. Working through what happened.
And making plans for their future.
Isla’s eyes searched his face. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He’d lain in that field bleeding into the dirt, kicking himself for not saying it sooner, so now he said it every chance he got. Made sure she knew, because at any second?—
“Stop.” Isla’s voice was soft. Gentle. “No spiraling.” She rested her hands on each side of his face. “Deep breath.”
He pulled in air as she did, following along as she blew it back out again. They repeated the process, his eyes locked on hers. Like she was his lifeline.
She was.
She was his peace. His partner. His confidant and his anchor.
She was his everything .
He’d waited years to find her, frustrated and impatient. Never guessing she’d show up at just the right time.
“Good.” Isla’s hands skimmed down the front of his chest, one of her hands sliding into his. “Now let’s go get the rest of the stuff off the truck.” She gave him a sweet smile that soothed a little of the hard edges always cutting into his peace. “We’ve got to come up with a plan for where to put everything.”