I close my eyes and then open them slowly.God, help me. “Life saving permissions are granted.” He’s trying so hard not to laugh. “Secondly, no looking at me like you want to take my clothes off.”
He bobs his head. “Uh-huh, uh-huh. But what if Idowant to take your clothes off?”
“Think it. Don’tlooklike you’re thinking it.” I bite back a smile as the elevator doors open.
Stepping off, I look to the wall placard to point us in the right direction. Connor’s at my back a heartbeat later, his warm body pressed in close, breath on my ear. “You know I can’t wait to get those clothes off you, Fish.”
I whip around and slap him across his bicep. He leans away from the contact, shielding the cardboard coffee carrier he holds in one hand.
“Hey!” he whisper-shouts as he grips his injured arm like he’s taken enemy fire. “I was thinking it. And if I’m not allowed to touch you then you’re not allowed to touch me either.” His brows hit his hairline.
I laugh and begin toward Reagan’s room. We walk silently down the corridor, the steady rhythm of our feet hitting the linoleum floor the only sound. When I dare a sidelong look at him, the man winks at me.
Goddammit.
“No winking,” I say through gritted teeth, voice a whisper that I hope sounds more like a threat and less like the human ball of swoon that I am.
He flashes that smug grin of his. “Sorry, did you say something? Hey, Drew!”
I look up as my brother emerges from Reagan’s room at the end of the hall.
“You brought coffee. Thank God! This hospital sludge is awful,” he says.
Schooling my bemused expression from before, I jog the last few steps and throw my arms around my brother’s neck as Connor heads inside.
Drew sags into me. “Hey, sis.”
“I’m so sorry this happened.” He gives me one last squeeze before he steps back.
“Thank you. We’re doing alright. I’m sorry you had to cut the trip short.”
I shake my head, waving off his apology. “Stop it. You’re more important.”
Drew follows me into the room. I find Reagan in the hospital bed, a tired smile on her even more tired face. I approach her cautiously, noting the IV line in her hand, the dark circles under her eyes, and the hospital blanket draped over her lower half.
Connor sets Reagan’s coffee on the side table as I take a seat on the bed’s edge. Before we say anything, we wrap our arms around each other, hers heavy, laden with grief. She’s lost a baby and been through a major surgery that will forever affect her ability to conceive again.
I rub my hand up and down her back. “I’m so sorry.”
She sniffs as she leans back and wipes her eyes. “Ugh, I’m so sick of crying.”
“The doctor said that was normal, sweetheart. Your hormones are gonna be out of whack for a while,” Drew chimes in from the foot of the bed.
I give Reagan’s hand a reassuring squeeze before turning towardmy brother. “Drew, if I’d known she was pregnant I never would have asked you to go with me.”
“No, Gretch.Wedidn’t even know until last week. Our first appointment with the doctor to make sure everything looked good was the morning we were supposed to leave.” He runs his hands down his face. “We were gonna get the ultrasound, hear the heartbeat, get the all-clear and then I would head to the airport.”
The room goes quiet. He doesn’t have to say what came next because Connor and I already know.
Drew continues, nonetheless. “Anyway, it wasn’t…it was…” He pauses, unable to say the word: ectopic.
Connor squeezes Drew’s shoulder. “It’s okay, man.”
He shakes the emotion away, before looking at his wife. The adoration and affection in Drew’s gaze in the face of such heartbreak makes me so proud to call him my brother.
“Yeah, so, the doctor gave her an injection that was supposed to help her body absorb the pregnancy over a few weeks. We were obviously pretty shaken up over the whole thing. You were already in the air by that time, Gretch. I couldn’t reach you. That’s when I called you.” He looks to Connor.
“We had a follow-up appointment on Saturday. Her hCG levels had dropped, but not by much, so we were supposed to come back today to check her levels again and possibly get another injection. But, on Sunday—” His voice stilts. Tears gather behind his eyes as he comes to Reagan’s other side and takes her hand in his.
