Page 109 of The Anchor Holds

He ignored me, stomping out.

Elliot’s father clapped me on the shoulder, squeezing. The casual, affectionate contact was nice, as was the warm look he directed at me with eyes that looked like Elliot’s. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making me want to laugh my ass off while my son is lying in a hospital bed.” His words were heavy, yet his lips were turned up. “Watching you ‘breathe fire,’ as my other son said, has been sunshine on a cloudy day.” He looked at Elliot, giving him a wink. “I agree with Beau’s sentiment. Gruff as it may have been delivered, I know my son is in good hands.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, even though I wasn’t exactly a stranger to father figures praising me. My own father hadn’t ever shied away from saying he was proud of me. Unfortunately, we also butted heads too often to be really close.

Elliot’s father being so warm, so loving, so accepting of me even though I was sure he could see that I was utterly wrong for him, was grating.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to expect any kind of response, giving my shoulder one more squeeze before going to Elliot’s bedside and saying something about tending to the boat or fishing. I didn’t quite catch it.

I stared out the window of the hospital, boasting a view of the parking lot. His heavy footfalls told me he’d left, and I was alone in the room with Elliot. The man I was most comfortable with and greedy for the attention of. The man I was almost responsible for killing. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out what I could do to get away from him but not out of the hospital. I wanted to be close, in case Jasper decided to try some shit. Highly unlikely but I had come face-to-face with the prospect of losing Elliot and it was terrifying.

‘That’s cute.” Elliot’s thick, smoky rasp drew my attention to where I’d been avoiding. The bed. Him in it. I took a deep breath, put on my indifferent mask then faced him.

“What’s cute?”

“You defending Hannah’s honor.” I had to force my hands to rest against my pants, my fingers itching to trace the delicious lips forming his grin.

“I think your brother was closer to the mark calling me a dragon.” I forced snark into my tone. “I consider being called cute an insult.”

“Tough shit.” Elliot was still grinning. “Because you’re cute as fuck. Now get your ass over here and give me a kiss.”

I arched a brow. “Is that an order?”

His eyes flared, managing to look incredibly sexy despite being in a hospital bed. “Yes, it is. You gonna be a good girl?”

Cue pussy quiver.

I pursed my lips, taking measured steps to his bedside even though I knew I should’ve been distancing myself from him.

The second I was within reaching distance, he snatched me by the hips and pulled me down so my lips crashed against his. I’d been planning on a chaste, closed-mouthed kiss, considering he was injured. I needed to be gentle with him. I’d been ruthlessly reminded of his mortality, taunted with it by Jasper.

Elliot wasn’t gentle. His kiss was hungry, claiming. All sense of gentleness—not something that came natural to me in the first place—washed away as I met his energy with a thirst of my own.

I poured all of my anxiety, my relief, and my need for him into the kiss.

A clearing of a throat and a cough sounded. I didn’t detach immediately, nor did Elliot. He took his time before he released my lips and both of us turned our heads to a nurse standing in the door, tilting her head, fighting a smile.

“I’ve got to check some vitals, though I’m guessing his heart rate isn’t gonna be accurate now,” she said warmly.

I swallowed a smile of my own, realizing that at some point, I’d been hauled by Elliot entirely onto the bed, my body wasplastered against his. There was a beeping coming from one of the machines I’d unwittingly unhooked.

Elliot’s hand was on my ass. He gave it a quick pat before he released me so I could climb off him.

The nurse winked at me as she approached, fiddling with the machine.

Cheeks hot, I forced my gaze onto my phone, remembering my goals. Get Elliot the best care possible, get him out of here, extract myself from this relationship, and ruin Jasper Hayes and the organization he worked for.

The day passed quickly with a steady stream of visitors. People on the fire crew, from the restaurant—including the little blonde waitress who glared at me when Elliot wasn’t looking. Apparently, when the town’s golden boy got hurt rescuing a kitten, the town showed up for him.

Kip arrived with arms laden with coffee and pastries. As did Kane and even my fuckingbrother. Clearly, Elliot had joined the badass crew without me noticing since he had an easy repartee with the men, even after my brother’s little scene after the shooting. The visitors were a welcome buffer between Elliot and I, since every time I looked at him, my chest constricted, and the weight of my guilt almost sent me to my knees.

Eventually, though, people stopped coming, and we finished the food Beau had sent over from the restaurant—delivered by the evil blonde waitress. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d poisoned my roll. Though I ate it because maybe I deserved to be poisoned, and also because I doubted she was brazen, smart or bloodthirsty enough to do something like that.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you in the morning.” I forced casualness into my voice as I gathered all of our food trash then disposed of it. I clutched my purse to my body with a death grip.

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