an arm back around him, Brian made it a real hug. His busting bladder could wait for this. “Thanks.” He didn’t mean the shirt. Pulling Nick close, he ignored the aches and focused on the comfort of Nick’s sturdy body against his own.
“Mm.” Nick brushed a kiss under his ear, down his neck, then eased back. “Let’s get you to the john. Do you want a shower?”
He vaguely remembered getting home, reassuring a hoarse, exhausted, frantic Luger, and falling into bed. He sniffed toward his shoulder. Yuck, smoke and mud and sweat.
But his stomach rumbled louder, and Nick laughed. “Food first, shower after. Got it.”
In the bathroom, he took care of the urgent stuff and eyed himself in the mirror. He had the beginnings of two black eyes and traces of blood on his upper lip, although it looked like he’d tried to clean it up. Or someone had. His memories of last night went hazy at the end, but he had a vague impression of Nick and a washcloth. He raised his shirt enough to see a deep band of bruising across his stomach and up to his shoulder. Would’ve been way worse without the seatbelt.
He waited for a flashback, a hit of panic over the crash, the kidnapping, like in the aftermath of the ship, turning his guts to jelly. Nothing came. His fingers ached when he picked up his toothbrush, but his hand was steady. Huh.
He should probably call Dr. Murphy today. He could imagine her asking how he felt. Okay. I feel— done. Steadier in some ways than ever before. And wasn’t that odd? He figured the shakes would hit him at some point, but right now, his strongest memory was sitting on top of the guy who’d tried to destroy him, pinning his hogtied enemy down with his full weight, in control, the winner. His lip stung as he smiled. I did that on my own.
Nick tapped on the door. “You all right in there?”
“I’m fine.” He washed his face with gentle dabs.
Luger was waiting right outside the door and followed him to the kitchen, sitting beside his chair. Nick bent to rub the dog’s cheek. “He’s worried about you. He must’ve heard that kidnapper outside last night. The door’s a huge claw-marked mess.”
“I remember hearing him barking before the guy pulled his gun on me.” Brian sat and took a quick sip of his waiting coffee. He might not have the shakes, but that moment wasn’t one he wanted to dwell on.
Nick pushed the table back and swung across Brian’s lap to straddle him. It could’ve been a sexy move— probably was meant to look that way— but Nick’s hands fluttered from Brian’s lip to his nose, and under his eye, and a frown creased his forehead. “You look like you went six rounds in the gym.”
“Thank the airbag.” Brian reached around him to set down his mug.
“Oh, I do.” Nick gave him a light, coffee-flavored kiss, but pulled back when Brian tried to deepen it. “You need food. Bacon or something soft?”
His stomach gave embarrassingly loud approval to the idea of bacon, but at least it made Nick laugh.
“Bacon it is.”
“Maybe French toast instead of regular hard toast?” He tried to do big pleading eyes and a little pout, and was pleased that Nick chuckled again as he got up.
“Sure. Milk those bruises for sympathy. They’ll be fading tomorrow.”
“Good.” He watched Nick getting out pans, eggs, bread, bacon. Luger laid his head on Brian’s knee, and he stroked the silky bit of fur beside the dog’s eye. A breeze lifted dead leaves across the window, chilly-looking despite the late-morning sun. Late morning. “I should be at work!”
He started to get up, but Nick said, “No. Yasmin called first thing and said, stay home. She’d already heard about your accident through some kudzu version of the grapevine. She said touch base tomorrow.”
“Oh. Okay.” His hip and chest hurt enough to make that sound smart.
Nick pulled the table back in place and set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him. “Start on that while I fix the rest of it.”
“Aren’t you eating?”
Nick glanced away. “Couldn’t sleep. I ate hours ago. You were the one sawing logs half the morning.”
Brian wondered what piece of the night’s disasters had kept Nick awake. Maybe all of them. Nick had been close to the fire as the cabin burst into flames, close when McNaught blew his brains out, with his own gun in hand, ready to shoot