His overbearing behavior where she was concerned made no sense.
I told Coop I’d stick by your side, so that’s what I’m going to do.
Okay, so he’d promised her brother he’d stay with her. That still didn’t explain why he’d bossed the nurses and doctors around like he had. Nor did it explain the intense expression crossing over his face every time she looked at him.
Of course, it was entirely possible that it had less to do with her than the fact that he’d just survived an event that could’ve killed him.
They both had.
Closing her eyes, Emma tried like hell to block out memories of the explosion. One second, she was talking with Jake, and the next...
I should’ve asked more questions about the package. I should’ve picked up on the delivery guy’s odd behavior sooner. I should’ve—
“Don’t do that.”
Her eyes shot open again, immediately going to the source of the rumbled order.
Across the room, Trace was leaning against the wall near the door. Arms crossed at his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles.
Ash and a few drops of dried blood still littered his broody face and clothing. Some cuts were visible on his hands and forearms, and there was a decent-sized scratch on one of his cheeks.
It could’ve been so much worse.
Somehow—despite his disheveled, bitter appearance—the man looked every bit as attractive as the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Maybe even more so.
He hadn’t said a word to her since the staff had begun taking over. He just stood there, far enough away the doctors and nurses could do their thing, but close enough he could get to her if another threat arose.
Yeah, he’s definitely R.I.S.C. material.
And he was staring.
“Don’t do what?” Emma was pleased at how smoothly her voice sounded.
He raised a brow. “You’re blaming yourself again. You wanna tell me why?”
If she let her imagination go there, she could almost convince herself he actually cared. The thought was nice, but beyond ridiculous. They didn’t even know each other.
Trace was here because he gave his word to Coop. No other reason.
Hellooo....you almost died today, remember? Pretty sure you have bigger things to worry about than what a man you don’t know thinks about you.
Her subconscious was right. Maybe the explosion affected her more than she’d originally thought.
Shedidhit her head on the floor when she was blown off of her feet. Maybe the doctors missed something.
“Emma?”
Shoot. She still hadn’t answered him.
Biting her bottom lip—an annoying but unbreakable habit she had—Emma pushed back her emotions about what had happened and started to explain.
“A kid came into the office with a package.”
“A kid?” Trace frowned as he pushed himself off of the wall.
“Well, not really a kid, I guess. He looked to be in his late teens.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket, swiped his thumb across the screen, and began typing.