And to the flash of cameras, he kissed her back.
Ty wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here, standing just outside the rim of press, holding a woman in his arms while watching his buddy Gage kiss the woman he’d spent three years pining for.
But he certainly wouldn’t lodge any complaints.
Especially with Brette’s arms looped around his neck. He’d wrapped her like a burrito in her blanket, aware that she was not only wearing her hospital gown but had recently had surgery.
Those extra tests the doctor had ordered niggled at him.
But he’d talk to her later, after she’d had a chance to talk to Ella. He didn’t know why, exactly, she looked so desperate to get to her friend, but . . .
Well, he was still reeling from her words. “I came here looking for a hero. And I found one. That’s enough for me. You can keep your story to yourself.”
He didn’t quite know what to do with the crazy hope those words had stirred inside him.
Yeah, he could fall in love with this woman if she gave him the chance.
In the room, Gage had gotten up, taken Ella’s hand, and was facing the cameras. He grinned, and it seemed genuine, something not canned, but of course, perfect.
Because Gage was a born superstar, so natural in the limelight, he belonged there.
Even when the press peppered him with questions about the rescue, and even the past.
“I regret with everything inside me the decisions I made that cost Dylan his life. And I’m saddened by the injuries Bradley and Oliver incurred by following my route down Heaven’s Peak. But anything daring comes with risks, and accidents happen in the backcountry. The best we can do is try and prepare for them, and trust that if an accident happens, we’ll be rescued. I’m just thankful that Ella was bold enough to convince me to go after her brother and Bradley, or they would have died on the mountain. I’ve never met anyone who fights for the ones she cares about like Ella Blair.”
He looked down at her, winked.
“He’d make a great campaigner,” Brette said next to Ty’s ear.
Ty looked at her. “What?”
Brette shook her head. Then she met his eyes. “I guess I panicked over nothing.”
Panicked? Although, well . . . He went out on a limb. “It’s not a bad way to get you back into my arms.”
He chased it with a smile.
Her eyes widened, and she caught her lip. “Maybe we could . . . I don’t know. Start over? Be friends?”
Oh, he wanted much more than friends, but he nodded. “Sure.” He’d spied a wheelchair near the entrance and now walked over, set her into it. He arranged her blanket around her, then knelt before her. “My name is Ty Remington. My parents own the Double R, a good chunk of land in northwest Montana. But I work for PEAK Rescue, just trying to help people who are lost, or hurt, or in over their heads.” Just like he was. But maybe not so much anymore. His story to Pete had loosened the fingers of shame around his heart.
Maybe someday soon he would be able to tell his story, the whole story, to the team.
The one that included him falling on his face in the snow and begging for salvation. And not just the physical kind.
Maybe, in fact, that was the first step to climbing back into the cockpit. But, for now, “If you give me the chance, Brette, I promise to never lie to you again.”
He held out his hand.
She took it, her smile warm. “I like a man who keeps his promise.”
Oh, he wanted to kiss her. His eyes roamed her face and stopped at her lips. But before he could stir up the courage, a voice came up behind him.
“Brette, what happened to you?” Ella. Gage was wheeling her over. He parked her next to Brette, and they hugged.
“Appendicitis. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Brette glanced up at Gage, back to Ella. “And apparently, you got your chance to talk to Gage.” She added a wink. “How’s Oliver?”
“He’s out of surgery,” said another voice, and Ty turned to see Dr. Brenda Watson walking over. She wore her lab jacket, a pair of scrubs. “We were able to stop the bleeding. He’s in recovery.”
She looked over at Gage. “Well done, son,” she said softly and squeezed Gage’s arm. He put his hand over hers. Then she bent down to Ella. “I hear you’ve already met my husband.”
Ella nodded. “Glad to meet you, Dr. Watson.”
“Brenda,” she said. “Likewise, Senator.”
“Actually,” Ella said, glancing at Gage, then to Brette, “I think my senator season is over. My mother wants to run for her seat again.” She looked at Brette. “Have you ever thought of writing the biography of Marjorie Blair, a woman whose family used to run a fishing operation? The Perfect Storm meets the Maple Syrup king?”