A Matter of Trust(81)
“You should be ready to go home in the morning.” A no-nonsense woman with short dark hair and the name Hanson on her badge, she’d come on shift and immediately made Brette get up and walk around. Brette’s protests fell on deaf ears. Now, however, nurse Hanson had turned Florence Nightingale, smiling at Brette. “There’s a handsome man waiting in the hallway for you. Shall I let him in when we’re finished?” She lifted the edge of the blanket to check Brette’s laparoscopic incision.
Brette nodded, feeling a smile curl up from inside. She’d finally found a hero worth writing about. A man without secrets, guile, or an agenda.
A man readers would be inspired by, the kind of guy who simply showed up. Loyal, sweet, compassionate. Trustworthy.
Her own words from yesterday rang in her head. “Actually, it’s harder than you think to find a true hero. Everyone has secrets, and if you look hard enough, we’re all just hiding behind how we hope people view us.”
Not Ty. He seemed like a man without masks. Finally.
Brette pressed her fingers to her mouth, still feeling Ty’s kiss on her lips. So soft she could have imagined it but for the way he looked at her, so much sweet longing on his handsome face.
He hadn’t looked at Jess that way—Brette saw the difference now. “No, Jess and I are just friends.” His words had ended on a funny, almost incredulous laugh.
Her reporter’s brain had simply been working overtime, fetching facts that didn’t exist. Like her belief that Jess Tagg could be wealthy investment princess Selene Taggert.
Brette closed her eyes, her body aching from her walk. Ty had excused himself, and she’d suggested a run for ice cream. She didn’t want him to see her cry again.
And not just because the nurse made her practically trek the entirety of the Kalispell Regional Hospital but because his words had found soft, pliable soil in her heart. “I’m not leaving you.”
She knew what he meant. It wasn’t a declaration of happily ever after or anything, but still, her empty, lonely heart hung on to his words too much.
Oh, she could get into trouble this way. She could almost hear Ella, tiptoeing into the room, sinking down onto the side of her bed. Handing her a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. “No man is worth this kind of pain.”
Of course, the last time Ella did that, Brette had held the ice cream carton up to her face, her cheekbone still swollen. And then Ella had offered to drive her to the police station.
But Ty wasn’t the kind of man who would turn on her, lose control, treat her as if she were worthless.
“How’s your pain?” Nurse Hanson asked.
“Manageable,” Brette said, almost meaning it.
“You’re due for another pain pill in an hour. I’ll be back.” She squeezed Brette’s leg and headed out the door.
Brette sat up and raked her fingers through her tangled hair. She looked disastrous—a glimpse in the bathroom mirror told her that. But Ty hadn’t seemed to mind—
A knock, then the door opened.
She smiled.
Pete poked his head around the corner. “Hey.”
Oh. She kept her smile, feeling just a hint of a frown.
He came into the room, producing a spray of flowers in a vase. White daises, a few yellow roses. “I just wanted to come by and say I’m sorry for being a jerk earlier today.” He set the flowers on a tray near the bed.
Really?
He looked like he meant his apology, the way he turned and shoved his hands into his pockets. He still wore his blond hair back in a bandanna, a grizzle of gold on his chin, and now gave her a wry smile. “I wasn’t myself. Or maybe I was, but I’m trying not to be, so much.”
She hadn’t a clue what he meant, but his self-effacing comment had her warming to him. “That’s okay. I know I shouldn’t pry—it’s the reporter in me.”
“If you want to ask about the stuff that happened last summer, I’ll tell you. It’s just not that exciting. And, frankly, it’s not like any one of us wouldn’t have done the same thing. My brother, Sam, for example, was really the one who rescued the missing kids this summer. Their van went over a cliff, and he and his girlfriend, Willow, hiked them out to safety. He nearly died doing it too. He’d make a great story.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.” But that wasn’t the story she was hoping for, really. “Um . . . can I ask you a question?”
He glanced down at the chair Ty had occupied. Picked it up and turned it around, straddling it. He hung his arms over the back. “Go for it.”
“What about Ty? He mentioned that he used to be the main pilot before Kacey came on the scene. He was a little dodgy about why Kacey took over.”