Page 58 of Penalty Kiss
For a while, we just breathe together, coming down from the high. My hand traces lazy patterns on her back, memorizing the feel of her skin, the exact curve of her spine.
"Teammates, huh?" I finally murmur, teasing-soft against her hair. "Guess that makes this overtime."
To my surprise and delight, instead of pushing back or protesting, she laughs—a real, genuine laugh that seems to bubble up from somewhere deep and unguarded. It's the sound of walls coming down, of armor being set aside, just for now, just for me.
As her laughter fades into contented silence, I make a silent vow to remember this moment, no matter what my broken brain tries to take from me. This feeling, this woman, this unexpected peace in the middle of our storm—this is worth fighting for.
Chapter 10
Family Inquisition
Tara
Two days later.
My phone buzzes against the nightstand, dragging me from the best sleep I've had in years. Cam's arm tightens around my waist on instinct, like his body knows to keep me close.
The morning light streaming through my bedroom blinds catches the mirrors, creating patterns of gold across our tangled sheets.
The buzzing continues. Insistent. Annoying.
I slip out of Cam's embrace carefully, trying not to wake him. He's been sleeping better since we officially share the bed—deeper, more peaceful. The PCS episodes are getting fewer and farther between, and I want to give his brain every chance to heal.
My phone screen shows that I just missed a call, and then a new text comes in.
Hello. This is Dr. Erik Wilder, Cameron Wilder’s dad, can we talk?
My stomach drops. Cam's father calling my phone directly can't be good news. Because nothing says "great morning" like your lover's surgeon father sliding into your DMs.
I grab my robe and pad to the kitchen, hitting callback as I start the coffee maker.
He answers on the first ring.
"Miss Haynes?"
His voice carries that crisp military authority that probably makes his trauma patients feel instantly calmer. It makes me want to stand straighter, even though he can't see me.
"Yes, Dr. Wilder. Is everything okay?"
"That's what I'm calling to determine." There's a pause, and I can practically hear him choosing his words carefully. "I received some concerning information yesterday. About my son's current... situation."
The coffee maker gurgles to life, filling the silence while I try to figure out what he knows and how he knows it.
"What kind of information?"
"The kind that suggests Cameron is playing bodyguard to a woman who may be in genuine danger. The kind that mentions anonymous threatening messages and suspicious men asking questions around town."
I close my eyes. Small towns and their gossip networks. Of course someone would have mentioned the bistro incidents to Levi, and Levi would have told Cam's family.
"Dr. Wilder—"
"Erik, please. And I'm not calling to interfere." His tone softens slightly. "I'm calling because my son has a brain injury that affects his judgment and memory, and I need to know if he's putting himself in a situation he's not equipped to handle."
The protective concern in his voice makes my chest tight. This is what real family sounds like—messy, worried, but ultimately loving. Not controlling. Not manipulative. Just... caring.
"He's helping me, yes," I say carefully. "But he's not taking unnecessary risks."
"Miss Haynes—Tara—may I speak plainly?"
