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He nods, going to the back and shutting the doors. I hold Mindy’s hand the whole way, talking to her and stroking the hair off her forehead. My stomach is so tight, it’s hard to breathe normally. The guys in the van keep trying to put an oxygen mask on me, but I want to talk to her.

“I love you,” I whisper in her ear, lightly touching my lips to her cheek.

Guilt tears me apart inside. I should have taken care of her better. Dropping my forehead to the side of her bed, I pray. Don’t let me lose her now.

Last night I was sure we were on the road back to each other. I can’t lose her, not like this.

My eyes are hot. Her small hand is still firmly in my grasp. We’re twenty minutes into our high-speed race to the hospital when her fingers move in mine. My head shoots up, and I see her eyelids squeeze.

She starts to cough, and Eric removes her oxygen mask, helping her roll to her side facing me. She coughs more, and he rubs her back. I look up at him worried.

“Controlled coughing is actually a good way to clear the lungs.”

My hand is on her shoulder, and I brace her as she struggles. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”

Her coughing subsides, and she’s still for a moment. Then she blinks several times. Her brow furrows, and she seems to be trying to focus.

“Mindy?” My heart is beating so hard. “Can you say something, baby?”

She closes her eyes once more then opens them, slowly moving her gaze to mine. Our eyes meet, and my breath stills. My stomach clenches, waiting…

“I’m not a baby.” She’s hoarse, and we’re all quiet at first.

Then she smiles weakly, and I start to laugh. “You’re right. You’re not.”

Rising onto my knees, I pull her to me, hugging her. Her arms are around my waist, and I close my eyes. “I’ve got you, beautiful. Just rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

33

Mindy

“This is my favorite of the two.” I’m sitting in a hospital bed with my iPad pro on my lap and the stylus in my hand. My lungs are still weak, but they’re stronger than they were two days ago.

The doctors make me do breathing treatments a few times each day, but they’re letting me go home this afternoon.

While I wait to be discharged, Sawyer and I have the meeting we were supposed to have when my brand-new old office burned to the ground, destroying everything inside. I was pretty devastated, until I remembered I’d left my iPad pro in my apartment.

That mistake was the one thing that saved my fledgling enterprise. It has all my contacts and concepts saved on it, and Sawyer bought me a new laptop the next day to use as backup.

Him sitting beside me sends all kinds of tingling warmth through my body. His presence makes me want to get better faster.

He raced into a burning building, down a narrow hall into a dark back room, defying sanity and his PTSD to save my life. Not only that, through the fog of what happened, I remember his words so clearly. I’m holding your hand… I love you…

All of it has banished my hesitation. I only want to be with him, in his arms.

“I agree with you. I like the anchor with the garland.” He traces his finger along the screen. “But can I be honest?”

My eyebrows rise, and I nod. “Please.”

“I don’t like any of these slogans.”

Dropping my head back, I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t either! We can work out something new together.”

As soon as I say the words, I realize how much I like them—literally and figuratively.

The door opens, and a nurse quietly enters pushing a wheelchair. “I’ve got your paperwork. You’re all set to go.”

Sawyer holds my hand, helping me off the bed. I’m wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweater Noel brought me to wear home. She and Ma have been in and out the whole time I’ve been here, but Sawyer has never left my side.