Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Recruit Daniel Rose inbound!” Ben announced.
My head snapped up, my heart fucking pounding, and I automatically strode closer to the tree line approximately fifty feet away.
Moments later, the underbrush rustled, some ferns shook, and my fighter broke through the tree line in an exhausted jog, face flushed and smeared with mud.
My heart jumped up into my throat, and I bolted for him.
Sid handed out orders to Ben. “We’re gonna need fluids and energy, stat.”
“Kiss me before I puke,” Danny panted.
I closed the distance between us, and an urgency I’d never felt before surged through me like wildfire. One part of me wanted to crush him in a hug, while another dove into field-medicine mode. He needed to be lowered to the ground, I had to check him for insect bites and rashes, I had to ask if he’d lost any blood, the last time he ate and drank, if he was dizzy—
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” I wrapped my arms around him and eased him down till I was on my knees next to him. “You did it, Operator Rose. I’m so bloody fucking proud of you.”
He whimpered and covered his face with his hands. “My heart won’t s-stop racing.”
“You just focus on breathing,” I commanded. At the same time, I started stripping him down. I unbuttoned his top layer, undid his belt, and tugged down his utility pants. Boots off. Mud everywhere. He was soaked all the way through, down to his base layer.
Ben and Sid were quick to assist me, with one taking over the medical eval and the other preparing an IV solution of saline, vitamins, and minerals.
“I did it,” he croaked behind his hands.
I cupped his face and gently removed his muddy paws, and I caught him smiling through an imminent breakdown.
“You did it,” I murmured thickly. Ben extended a flashlight to me, and I accepted it wordlessly and leaned closer to my boy again. “Open your eyes, love.” I shone the light in his eyes, checking the dilation of his pupils, and they became smaller as they should, to my relief. “Have you had fresh water today? Any injuries, open wounds?”
He coughed and managed a nod. “Filtered water around dawn, went through the last before…before I…started climbing. N-no open wounds.” He blew out a breath and winced at whatever Ben and Sid were doing. “My stomach’s cramping—don’t f-fuckin’ sit on it.”
I glanced back, and nobody was putting any pressure on his stomach. Sid was merely checking Danny’s skin for rashes and bites.
“We’ll get you to a bathroom,” I promised. “How’s the nausea?”
He groaned and promptly rolled over to throw up.
“Pulse is slowing down,” Ben said. “No open wounds, his color is good, no rash that we can see.”
I blew out a breath as I held Danny in position, and I gently combed my fingers through his hair.
I’d kiss him silly later.
August 1st, 1999
I watched him with a dumb grin on my face as he sipped his cappuccino and got foam on his upper lip.
“It’s too hard to decide,” he muttered. “On the one hand, this one is closer to the city, but it’s got less space.”
I smiled and wiped his mouth with a napkin first, and he grinned sheepishly.
He was too adorable for words. How fucking love-sick was I if one smile from him could tune out an entire coffee shop in the middle of the morning caffeine rush?
“Focus.” He narrowed his eyes playfully.
Right. I could focus.
I crammed the last of my bagel into my mouth and draped an arm along the back of his chair. “It’s not that much less space if you think about it.” I pointed to the printout to the left and brushed some crumbs off my tee. “The house is smaller, but the land is the same size as that one.”
We didn’t need a big house, was my point. We needed a good portion of land to build a safe haven for Danny’s rescue dogs. Or our rescue dogs. I was admittedly growing increasingly fond of the idea of taking in rescues that nobody else wanted.
I’d prepared sketches for a yard with individual houses for twelve dogs, including additional areas for dogs that didn’t go together.
“That’s true,” he conceded. He leaned closer to me and dropped a hand on my leg, and I kissed the side of his head. “We don’t need more than two bedrooms—at least if we have the home office and den downstairs.”
Exactly. A home office we didn’t even need. It could easily become a guest room. My nieces and nephews visited about once a year, but my mum was incredibly fond of Danny, so she wanted to fly out often.
“And it would be nice to shorten the commute,” he reasoned.
“Definitely,” I agreed. “It’ll also be easier to find people who can work on short notice if we’re not completely out in the sticks.”