Brandon was different. He wasn’t like the others.
You told him to leave.
He’d told her he loved her, and she had kicked him out.
“Libby and I work together at Knockers,” Vicki was telling a very pregnant woman with red hair named Mia. “Her boyfriend is one of my husband’s shift captains.”
Mia’s husband had been on that helicopter, too. Two friends sat with Mia doing their best to reassure her, one named Sophie and the other named Tessa. The pilot’s wife was there, too. The women were all making conversation, but Libby didn’t have the patience for that.
The double doors opened, and a man in blue scrubs and a white medical coat walked in. “Who’s here for Joaquin Ramirez, John Wright, and Brandon Silver?”
Mia stood. “I’m Joaquin’s wife.”
“John is my husband.”
Libby tossed the tea in the trash. “I’m here for Brandon. Is he okay?”
“We’ve treated their burns and gotten their pain under control. They were both badly dehydrated, so we’re giving them intravenous fluids. I’ll take you back.”
Vicki stood. “Any word about my husband, Eric Hawke?”
The doctor nodded. “He just went into surgery. Doctors are cleaning and debriding his burns. I’m not sure how long it will take them—perhaps an hour, maybe longer. I’ll have one of the nurses come out and give you updates.”
“Thank you.” Vicki sank back into her chair.
Libby followed the doctor through the double doors—and there he was. “Brandon!”
He stood at the nurse’s station, wearing only a pair of scrub pants, bandages on his wrists and hands, surprise on his handsome face. “Libby?”
She ran to him, wrapped her arms around him. “I thought you were dead.”
He held her close. “For a while there, so did I.”
It was only then that Libby noticed the IV in his wrist and the IV pole beside him and the blisters on his face and lips. Was she hurting him?
She drew back. “You should be resting.”
“I was trying to borrow a phone so that I could call you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Libby walked with him back to his hospital room and kept his IV line from getting tangled as he got back into bed. There were blisters on his hands, elbows, shoulders, the backs of his legs, and his neck, too.
She wanted to hold his hand, but was afraid to hurt him. She rested a hand on the curve of his bicep instead. “Are you in pain?”
“Not anymore. They gave me morphine on the way here and then some pills.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid—”
“I’m sorry. I was an idiot.” She steeled herself to say words she’d never said before.
“I shouldn’t have pushed—”
“I love you, Brandon.” There. She’d said it. She’d gotten it out.
“You… what?” Brandon stared at her.
“Don’t act surprised.Yousaid I loved you before I said I loved you.”