Page 124 of Mission Shift

Braxton shook his head. “Sounds like a good gig if you can get it and survive long enough to enjoy it.”

Nikolai lifted his glass in mock salute.

I rested my hip against the edge of a barstool, my fingers absently rubbing at my arm, trying to ease the dull, aching throb. The movement wasn’t subtle enough—Braxton’s gaze latched onto me immediately.

His expression darkened. “That needs to be cleaned and properly bandaged.”

I waved him off. “I’ll deal with it.”

“You’re exhausted,” he said, ignoring my dismissal. “You need to rest. You also need a medic.”

I scoffed. “Mother hen mode activated, I see. Look, I’m a damn adult, Braxton. I can take care of it by myself.”

Nikolai let out another laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.” He stepped back up to the bar. “You know, he did the same thing to me after I got shot in Manhattan. Wouldn’t even let me stand up without freaking the fuck out.”

Braxton shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

Nikolai grinned. “You’re really attached to this whole savior complex, huh?”

Braxton crossed his arms. “It’s my job. I swore an oath to provide care.”

Nikolai’s grin widened. “Yeah? Pretty sure there are limits to care. Pretty sure you go too far.”

Braxton didn’t take the bait. Instead, he turned his attention back to me, nodding toward my arm. “You know that needs attention.”

Nikolai let out a dramatic sigh before walking toward the equipment-filled table. “Fine, fine. The boat has a full medical suite but no doctor or medic onboard.” He glanced at me. “You’re welcome to whatever supplies you need. There are plenty of pain meds and antibiotics.”

Braxton nodded. “Good to know.” Then he turned to me. “Let’s go, sweetheart, before you end up collapsing on the stool you’re perched on.”

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, my arm did hurt, and I wasn’t in the mood to fight about it. I also wasn’t stupid; I couldn’t reach the wound to tend to it properly on my own.

Nikolai rattled off directions to the infirmary, and Braxton nodded before turning toward the hallway, shooting me anexpectant look. I hesitated for half a second before pushing off the stool and following.

Braxton kept pace beside me, with his hand wrapped around my waist. His hold on me was firm, but it was also loose enough that I could have shaken him off if I wanted to.

I didn’t pull away. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the brandy, or maybe it was the fact that I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with him.

I wasn’t ready to let go of my anger. Not yet. Not after everything his silence had cost me.

But I wasn’t pushing him away either.

Braxton stepped into the infirmary first, scanning the space like he was taking inventory. The cabinets lining the walls appeared to be stocked with enough supplies to patch up a small army. There was gauze, surgical instruments, and even a few bags of IV fluids in a small fridge. A medical table took up the center of the room, the bright overhead lights throwing sharp shadows across the stainless steel.

Braxton let out a dry laugh. “This reminds me of the safe house we took Nik to after everything went down at the wedding in Manhattan. That place had medical gear that would make any hospital’s ED envious.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Pretty standard for mafia types. It’s not like they can just stroll into an emergency room with gunshot wounds without someone asking a few questions.”

Braxton shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this world.”

Before I could respond, he turned, grabbed me around the waist, and lifted me onto the table, plopping me down like I weighed nothing at all.

A gasp left my lips as my hands shot out, instinctively gripping his shoulders. The unexpected contact sent a jolt through me, something dangerously electric. The insides of my thighsbrushed his hips, and our faces were inches apart. His grip on my waist was firm; he was entirely in control.

Braxton gave me a smirk—that cocky, knowing tilt of his lips that sent my mind straight back to the river, to the way his hands had skated down my sides and over my bare bottom, to the way he had made me forget everything except how much I burned for him.

His eyes locked onto mine, and I noticed his chest rise and fall slowly. He saw exactly where my mind had gone.

He let out a small grunt but didn’t push it further. Instead, he stepped back and started grabbing some of the supplies he needed.

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