Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I spluttered a laugh, instantly flooded with more relief. Freaking excuse me if I wasn’t used to being hoisted up in a fucking basket.
Jake’s gaze softened, and he brushed his fingers over the bendy little finger brace I’d received earlier. It was easy to slip on and off, and it covered my ring and middle fingers. I was only supposed to wear it for a few days.
“Are you okay?” he murmured. “I kinda checked out after the doc told me to get some rest.”
As he should have. “I’m fine,” I promised. “Two small fractures in my fingers, this one right here—” I pointed to my cheek “—and bruises. Nothin’a worry about.”
He took a deep breath and winced, reaching for the remote to elevate the back of his bed. I swooped in and pushed the button instead.
“Thanks.” He nodded when he was good, almost in a seated position, and then he shifted carefully to get comfortable. And evidently to make room. “Sit.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered one of his hands in both of mine.
“We’re goin’ with HITRON next time,” he said.
I grinned. My Jake was back.
“You saved my life.” I lifted his hand carefully to my lap.
He grunted. “I wanna say you saved mine. Fuckin’ hell, my head hurts.”
So we’d saved each other, then.
“We’ll make sure they give you the good painkillers before we get outta here,” I answered.
“And when is that?” He grimaced and seemingly couldn’t get comfortable. “I’m not a fan of hospitals.”
I knew he wasn’t. “As soon as the doctor clears you. A Coast Guardsman dropped off some clothes.”
“I can see that.” He eyed my dark blue hoodie. “You make a fine Coastie.”
I chuckled quietly.
I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was gonna be okay. We were alive. He’d made it.
We said fuck it.
Two hours later, we dragged ourselves slowly out of a cab and limped barefoot into the hotel. We’d also politely declined the offer from the Coast Guard to take us to said hotel, and we’d agreed to meet with them tomorrow.
We got some looks from the businessmen in the lobby’s seating area…
It was possible we stuck out like sore thumbs in this extravagant fish tank of a lobby, and we gave no fucks.
Jake leaned against a pillar while I handled the check-in process.
“Hi,” I said. “I have a reservation under Monroe Finlay. And you have laundry service, right?” I dropped two pairs of boots and the plastic bag with the wet clothes on the counter.
The lady jumped, startled, and tapped away on the keys on her computer. “Uh, yes—yes, of course, sir. Monroe Finlay, you said? Let’s get you checked in.”
I fished out my credit card and driver’s license from my slightly damp wallet.
The guy working alongside—I looked closer at her name tag—Charlotte…snuck me a couple furtive glances before he approached.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said quietly. “I just have to say my husband and I love your podcast. We listen to it every morning together.”
I kinda lit up. “Thank you. That means a lot. That’s Jake over there.” I jerked my thumb his way and glanced back.
Jake grinned faintly and offered a two-finger wave.
“Oh, of course it is,” the man replied. “I’m such a fan. Are—” He cleared his throat and hesitated. “Are you okay? Is there anything we can do?”
Were we okay?
Country concert, a rushed road trip to San Diego, arriving on a Coast Guard cutter, almost getting blown up by drug smugglers, ending up in a nice hotel with a bunch of bruises and no shoes.
I was feeling the humor now. It was nice.
“We’re fine, thanks,” I chuckled. “It’ll be an Off Topic episode at some point.”
My husband. Must be nice to be able to say that too.
Soon enough, we were checked in, and I received two keycards and figured while I was at it, let’s order food.
“Can we order room service here with you?” I asked. “We’re kinda starving.”
“Absolutely.” Charlotte produced a menu for me, and I gave it a quick glance.
“We’d like a couple burgers with fries, one pepperoni pizza, a garden salad, and, uh…that strawberry cake thing looks good. Two servings.”
“No problem, we’ll have it delivered to your room in approximately twenty minutes,” she replied. “And your clothes and shoes will be outside your room tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
Jake and I made our way to the elevators, and I tried not to limp like I’d just been pushed off a torched smuggling boat.
“It’s been less than twenty-four hours.” I just had to put that out there.
“Don’t get me started.” He pushed the button for the fourteenth floor. “If somethin’ else happens today, I will lose my fuckin’ mind.”
I laughed.
Thank fuck we’d agreed to keep everything to ourselves for the rest of the day. We didn’t know the Coast Guard’s protocol on press conferences, but we were ready to gamble. If they made some sort of statement today, we hoped our families weren’t watching the news. If they did, everyone had my number.