Page 2 of Devil's Hour
After two weeks of healing and five weeks of intense physical therapy, Royce had recovered enough to pass both his physical and psychological exams and return to active duty, although his physical therapy would continue for an additional seven weeks to get his full range of motion back. While he was on medical leave, Chief Rigby had received the results of his written sergeant’s exam and the oral interview he’d taken prior to getting shot. David Wembley, a former Army Ranger, had used his .308 Winchester to take out Wayne Miller for killing his daughter, Caroline, and her fiancé, DeShaun Benson, and injured Royce in the process. Knowing the kind of scum Miller was made it hard for him to hold a grudge against Wembley. The bullet had exploded Miller’s head like a melon and passed through Royce’s shoulder, miraculously missing arteries and only causing minor damage to muscles and tendons.
He’d been lucky—so fucking lucky.
Born on the wrong side of the tracks with a dirty spoon in his mouth, Royce had never associated the word lucky with himself until Chief Rigby had forced him into a partnership with Sawyer Key. Sawyer had woken something profound from slumber deep inside him, a piece of himself he’d never allowed to surface. He’d resisted with Sawyer, too, but it had been entirely futile, and for the first time in so long, Royce started to believe that maybe something more significant than chance was at play here.
“Thanks, but don’t expect me to wear this every day. I’m only doing this for the pinning ceremony, then I’m changing back into my usual clothes.”
“Whatever you say, Sarge,” Blue quipped. “Where’s your partner? He usually arrives before you.” Blue’s dark eyes shimmered with curiosity that had nothing to do with Sawyer’s punctuality. He’d overheard bits and pieces of an argument between Royce and Sawyer when they were still fighting their attraction and had connected enough dots to see their relationship taking shape.
Good question.They’d left the house at the same time. Royce shrugged and said, “Beats me.” Then he pivoted to Blue’s case load, a much safer topic that didn’t require him to be so guarded.
Not two minutes later, Sawyer strode into the bullpen with a gorgeous woman on his arm. Royce would never forget meeting Evangeline O’Neal the afternoon he’d signed himself out of the hospital against his doctor’s wishes.
Sandwiched between Sawyer and Bones, Royce had crashed hard and woken a few hours later to the most delicious smells wafting into the bedroom. He’d borrowed a pair of Sawyer’s sweats, tugging the waistband down a bit to show off his defined pelvic muscles that Sawyer couldn’t seem to resist. He regularly had hickeys there these days to prove it.
“I smell cornbread,” Royce said, rounding the corner from the living room into the kitchen. He skittered to a halt when he realized they weren’t alone. “Oh.”
“Indeed,” Evangeline O’Neal said, raking her gaze over him. Nothing about her perusal was sexual or made him feel uncomfortable. It was the natural reaction one had when a half-naked person appeared unexpectedly in the same room. Evangeline turned to Sawyer, and a wicked grin spread across her face. “You little devil. You let me babble on this entire time about reheating instructions so you could take this over to Royce’s—” She cut off and looked back at Royce. “Is it okay if I call you Royce?”
“Of course.” She could call him anything she wanted when she was armed with food smelling so divine it had to have been prepared by angels.
Evangeline briefly aimed her megawatt, supermodel smile at him before addressing her son again. “He was here this entire time. Why didn’t you just say ‘Mother, I have a hunk in my bed. Thank you for the food, but please set it down and leave so I can get back to him.’”
Sawyer threw his head back and laughed in a way Royce had never seen or heard before, and he decided to do any-fucking-thing on the planet to see it more frequently. Daily. No, scratch that. Royce wanted to see and hear it at least once an hour. He wasn’t the only one enthralled by Sawyer’s response. Evangeline’s smile practically radiated sunbeams. “You’d box my ears if I ever told you to drop the food and get out after you spent hours making your finest dishes from scratch.”
“True,” she said with a shrug. Then she turned her attention to Royce, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “Let me take a look at you. I’m sure Sawyer has properly checked over some of your parts, but I want to make sure he isn’t ignoring the shoulder injury.”
“Mom,” Sawyer groaned. “Really?”
“Hush. Be useful and make this gorgeous man a plate of food before he falls over from hunger. He just got shot, Sawyer. He needs lots of rest and amazing Southern comfort food to make him feel better.” Behind his mother’s back, Sawyer’s smile said he knew precisely what Royce needed to feel better. He couldn’t disagree with him.
“I’m not sure his cholesterol would agree,” Sawyer quipped, but he moved to the cabinet and opened the door. “Are you joining us?”
“Me? Of course not. I made the meal for Royce. I’d have to live on the elliptical machine for a solid month if I ate that food.” She took Royce’s face in both her hands and gently turned his head to the left and right. “You have a lot of scratches, but they look clean. Sawyer—”
“Wash them with antibacterial soap and apply a thin layer of antibacterial ointment. Got it, Mom,” Sawyer said without looking up from scooping food onto his plate.
Evangeline looked at the bandage on his shoulder. “It’s clean with no sign of seepage. You’ll want to make sure it stays that way. Keep it out of water.” Sawyer’s head came up and met Royce’s gaze, both of them remembering the shower they’d shared. They exchanged rueful smiles but didn’t argue with Evangeline’s instructions. “Sawyer, make sure he takes his meds on time.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“No, Mother.”
Evangeline met Royce’s gaze, then rolled her eyes. “He didn’t use to be such a smartass.”
“It’s my fault. I’ve been a horrible influence on Sawyer.”
She smiled up at Royce. “On the contrary, you were just what he needed. It looks like you guys have everything under control here, so I’m going to head on out.” Then she stunned Royce by wrapping her arms around him for a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ve been worried sick because someone wasn’t answering their phone again. Now that I know it was for a damn good reason, carry on.”
“Back off my man, cougar,” Sawyer said, walking toward them. “Maybe give him a little room to breathe so we don’t scare him away.”
“You’re not scared, are you, honey?” Evangeline asked Royce.
“Not in the least. It’s kind of nice having someone fuss over me. And the food…” Royce’s stomach growled, emphasizing his hunger and how great her food smelled.
“That’s it. I’m out,” Evangeline said, then kissed both men’s cheeks one last time. “Call me if you need anything.”