Page 76 of The Cowboy Complication

Grady’s eyes shifted to where Devon now stood next to him. “No. We didn’t arrest him.”

She sucked in a breath, ready to raise complete and total hell. “Why not? How could you let him get away after he—” Another sob broke free. “After he?—”

“Cooper fired back.” Devon said it loud enough to be heard over her cries. “We don’t know exactly what happened yet, but the man who shot him didn’t make it.”

Her insides went numb. Frozen by a series of emotions she never expected to feel. Fear for Cooper. Regret that she wasn’t there for him when he needed her.

And an awful, terrible part of her that was happy a man was dead. Relieved it was him and not Cooper who was in a body bag.

Her knees gave out, sending her sinking.

“Catch her.” Grady and Devon rushed to her side, managing to direct her descent into one of the chairs lined beside the bed. They brought her something to drink and a pack of crackers she didn’t want, then went to stand in the hall, talking in hushed tones with a few other faces she recognized from the department.

Tossing the crackers in the general direction of her purse, she swiped at her eyes, drying the wetness still clinging to her lashes from tears she didn’t remember crying. She sifted through the items in the bag she’d fought to keep, tucking the ruined T-shirt to one side. Right beneath it was the long-sleeved button-up Cooper wore beneath his vest. Like the T-shirt, it was bloody and cut up the center. The slice ran right alongside the button placket. The jagged slash probably saved time, but it looked horrifying.

She started to wad it up so it could be tucked with the T-shirt, but there was something in one of the front pockets. After unbuttoning the flap, she reached inside and pulled out a small bag. It was made of pretty purple velvet, but too small to be useful for carrying anything substan?—

When she tipped it over into her hand, the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen fell out. Her mind was so muddled it took a second for it to register what it was.

Her chest constricted, threatening another fit as she slid the diamond onto her finger, barely able to appreciate the sparkling beauty of it through the ache in her throat and the burning in her eyes.

A commotion out in the hall stole her attention and brought her to her feet, the forgotten bag of Cooper’s items falling to the floor. Grady stepped out of the doorway as the foot of a hospital bed came into view. She was already moving, rushing toward Cooper as a smiling man pushed him into the room, a second man following behind them. Gripping the hand of the arm that wasn’t bandaged, she followed along as they moved.

“He’s still a little drowsy.” The man pushing the bed swung it around, aligning the side of it with the bed already in the room. “He might wake, but I’ll bet money he just falls back asleep.” He cranked down the rail of Cooper’s current bed, then the two men transferred him to the other, moving his IV and blankets at the same time. After lifting the rail of his new bed into place, they double checked everything and left.

Right as a nurse came in.

She introduced herself and checked Cooper’s vitals, explaining again that he might go back to sleep for a few hours, before promising to come back and check on him again soon.

After she left, Grady came in, along with the rest of the men who’d been waiting in the hall. They didn’t stay long, but every minute seemed to stretch out forever as she sat, holding Cooper’s hand, desperate for him to open his eyes. To see their gray-blue color and the crinkles at the edges. To hear his voice. To see him smile.

To tell him that he was the most important thing in the world to her. That she’d made plans for chickens and goats and horses and five kids with gray-blue eyes and dimples in their right cheeks.

That she wanted to move all her stuff into his home. Their home.

That she loved him and he better freaking love her back.

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.”

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