Page 63 of Flint's Battle

Bowie yelled something that sounded like, “Hold on,” as they rose above the ground, a loop wrapped around Bowie’s chest as Blake gained enough altitude to get them slightly above the ground before swinging sideways — slowly lowering them onto the gravel.

Bowie let go, swinging back with the line to get Carter and Quinn, as Flint moved over to Emery’s side. Green eyes stared up at him. Glassy and half-lidded but they were open. What looked like love staring back at him.

Flint tsked, giving her a quick once-over. She’d pulled out more stitches and she’d look half-Smurf with all the bruising, but she was alive. Didn’t seem to be on the edge of death. “You okay? Anything broken? Can you breathe?”

She smiled and his damn heart nearly exploded. “Alive. Not sure about anything else, but that’s enough. You…” She drew him down for a kiss, lingering far longer than was probably wise with everything she’d been through.

Flint rested his forehead on hers. “Just do me a favor and don’t have another near-death experience on the way to the hospital. I don’t think my heart can take anymore. Seeing thatSUV careen over the edge…” He forced himself to swallow. “I swear I aged twenty years.”

“You still look great for an old man, then.” She smiled at his frown. “And I’ll do my best.” She closed her eyes, blinking rapidly when he caressed her cheek.

“Stay awake until Kian is positive you’re not really dying on me.” He glanced over his shoulder when the chopper landed, all his buddies already onboard. “That’s our ride. Hold on tight.”

He slipped his arms beneath her, pressing her into his chest as he stood, quickly heading for the helicopter. Bowie opened the door, waving them both in before closing it as Blake took off, staying low over the road as she wove her way toward town.

Emery relaxed into him, smiling against his skin. “So, are we going to talk about what we both said? Or pretend it never happened?”

He laughed. “Fuck, I love you. And yeah, we’ll talk about it. At length once you’re fully coherent. Because I meant it, and I’ll be damned if I let you back out because of a concussion.”

“Never. Now, kiss me before Kian starts sticking needles in me and pouring disinfectant all over my wounds, and I end up passing out.”

“Hell, yeah. And know this… I’ll be there when you wake up. Always.”

CHAPTER 20

“Seriously,McClane? What part of ‘stay out of the line of fire,’ didn’t you understand?”

Emery leaned into the pillows stacked behind her back, watching her boss study her. As if she might grow another head or spontaneously combust at any second. “I told you I should have stayed at Snider’s, but you didn’t listen.”

Milligan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “As if you would have been safe there.”

“Maybe not. But Flint would have been closer.”

Milligan chuckled. “I think Flint’s plenty close. Though, it does make me wonder if you played it this way to get more time off with him.”

“Yes. I definitely screwed up my shoulder, cracked a couple ribs and somehow bruised a kidney so I could stay home with Flint. It’s not like the pain will get in the way.”

“No one likes a smart ass. Speaking of which, I don’t want to see yours anywhere close to the station for the next three weeks. And no, that’s not negotiable. And you’ll have to get Kian to sign off on you returning because unlike the other doctors who you seem to sweet talk into writing good things on your chart, I knowKian will tell it to me straight. When he clears you for active duty, call me. Until then, stay home.”

Milligan didn’t wait for her to answer, just gave her those creepy, “I’m watching you fingers,” then stormed out, pointing at Flint when he passed him in the doorway.

Flint frowned, following Milligan until he walked out of sight. “Did he just signal that he’s watching me?”

“Us.”

“Was that before or after his lecture for you to stay home?”

“After. And something about Kian having to authorize me to return to work because I can’t sway him with my puppy-dog eyes.” She smiled at Flint when he furrowed his brows. “Paraphrasing but that’s what Milligan meant.”

She wiggled her fingers at him. “Please tell me that latte has my name on it.”

Flint shook his head, handing her the cup. “I’m not sure it qualifies as an actual latte when it’s ninety percent caramel.”

“You’re just sore because you didn’t ask for extra.”

“I prefer not to slip into a diabetic coma while on duty.”

She snorted. “You’re not on duty.”

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