"Yeah, no kidding," she agreed, leaning sideways to rest her head on his uninjured shoulder.
He tucked his heavy arm around her waist, careful not to bump her left side, and kissed the top of her head. They were alone here in the hallway, with only the occasional nurse or tech walking past. "You really okay?" he murmured.
She wasn't going to lie. "Tonight definitely stirred up a lot of stuff for me."
He made a soft sound of reassurance and tightened his hand around her waist. "I'll bet."
It had been on her mind all night. "It confirmed my decision to leave the force, that's for sure." She was done with guns and violence and anything remotely resembling combat. "And I hated being left behind while you went on the op. I felt helpless, was worried sick about you the whole time you were gone."
"I was fine," he murmured against the top of her head. "I had Cam, Jackson, and Wade there to watch my back, along with MacKenzie."
"I don't care who you were with, I was still worried. I realized tonight that it's way easier on me when I don't know the specifics of what's going on when you go out on an op."
She paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully. "The one good thing about tonight's situation was that it brought certain things about my life into sudden, crystal clarity." She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared into his eyes. "You're my number one priority. No question. Sometimes I feel like I come in last in your life, though, and I need to feel like I matter to you more than your job or country does."
Shock filled his expression. "Sweetheart, of course I love you more than my job or my country. Hell, you're my motivation when I'm out there on a mission." He sounded totally bewildered, as though her viewpoint had come out of left field. "When things get tough, I think of you and it makes all the shit that happens bearable."
That made her smile. "You do?"
"Hell, yes."
She curled into him more, closed her eyes, and breathed in his comforting scent. "I love you." She swallowed and dug down for the courage to say her worst fear aloud. "I couldn't take it if I lost you."
His arm tightened around her. "You won't lose me. Not ever," he murmured against the top of her head. "I'll always come home to you."
He meant it; she could hear the conviction in his voice. But there was no way he could guarantee that promise.
They were both quiet as Maya and Jackson drove them back to the resort, Candace snuggled in as close as she could get. Thankfully the cops and FBI agents had all left except for the ones staying for security purposes with MacKenzie's crew, so they didn't have to do any more interviews.
She held Ryan's hand on the way up to the new room they'd been given on a different floor where there was no smoke or water damage, relieved to be alone and have this nightmarish night over with. All she wanted was to curl up against her husband and spend the rest of the night in his arms. Or arm, as it were.
The air in the hallway still smelled faintly of smoke but fortunately the sprinkler system and the fire crews had long since managed to put the fire out on the first floor before it had damaged more than the lower two floors. Erin and Wade still wanted the wedding to go ahead as scheduled at eleven in the morning, so they all needed to get some rest.
After gingerly peeling her T-shirt off, she paused before the mirror and angled so she could see her bandage at the edge of her left shoulder blade. Dark blue and purple bruises were already spreading out from under the edges. At least the pills they'd given her had taken the edge off the pain.
"Do you think my gown will hide this well enough?" she asked Ryan, who had stripped and was already lying in bed on his side, watching her, his wounded arm bound up in a sling across his wide, muscular chest.
"Yeah, probably. Come lie down with me."
She loathed the thought of everyone staring at her while she was up there, whispering about what had happened, but she'd do anything for Erin. Including standing at the altar in a few hours while nursing a bullet wound that hurt every bit as much as she'd imagined.
Exhausted, she crossed to the bed, climbed in beside him, and lay facing him on her uninjured side. He looked just as tired as she felt and she could tell he was hurting a lot more than he let on.
Reaching out, she cupped the side of his face and rubbed her thumb over his cheek. She would have leaned forward to kiss him but it would hurt too much so she stayed put. Searching his eyes, she sighed. "We look like the saddest bookends in the world right now."
He snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, we sure do."
And it said a lot that he wasn't trying to initiate anything. She traced her fingers over his face, wishing she could take his pain away. "Who knew the mountains in Montana could be even more dangerous than the ones in Afghanistan?"
"I know." His face grew serious and he slipped his left hand beneath her to wind it around her nape, fingers gently digging into her sore muscles. "Do you know how much I love you?"
A smile tugged at her mouth and her heart squeezed. He'd obviously been thinking about what she'd said at the hospital. "I think so, yes."
He stared into her eyes, the raw emotion there making her throat tighten. "I could have lost you tonight. Until we talked earlier I never realized how much I've been taking you for granted, even though I didn't mean to. I don't ever want you to think I don't love you or appreciate every single thing you do for us, whether I'm here or away."
Her throat tightened. He was such a ham all the time; this level of seriousness and his heartfelt words showed just how much tonight had scared him. How the thought of losing her scared him.
With a soft smile she slipped her right arm beneath him and around the back of his neck. She snuggled in close to his body, savoring his warmth and strength, the feel of his love surrounding her like a healing balm. "Nobody's perfect, but you come pretty damn close to being perfect for me."
The corner of his mouth tipped upward. "Good. Now let's try to get some sleep, huh?"
"Okay." She doubted either of them was going to get much of it, but it was a huge comfort just to be able to curl up with him for the rest of the night.
Planting a slow, firm kiss on her lips, he grimaced as he reached past her head to turn off the wall sconce beside the bed. Then he pulled her close with his good arm and held her, their hearts beating in unison in the darkened room.
Chapter Fourteen
The morning of the wedding was cool and bright, barely a cloud in the sky. Ryan glanced away from the window in their room and winced as he draped the right side of his jacket over his sling, the motion pulling at his stitches.
It had been an uncomfortable few hours of rest for both him and Candace. Neither of them had wanted to stop touching the other, so it meant a lot of awkward positioning to make it work. He hadn't slept much and neither had Candace, but she'd had to be up and gone by nine to get ready with the rest of the bridesmaids, no matter how sore and shitty she felt.
He felt bad that she had to soldier through a wedding when she should have spent the day in bed resting and letting him pamper her with cuddles and room service. They'd do that as soon as the reception was over, he decided.
His entire right shoulder and side hurt and he was damn glad he didn't have to stand up there in front of everyone during the wedding. In the shower earlier, he'd been covered in bright purple and magenta bruises. He'd refused to take the pills he'd gotten at the hospital, because they made him feel woozy and sick to his stomach, so he had to get through this cold turkey.
When he got downstairs a few minutes later, the lobby was already filled with wedding guests. Around the perimeter he spotted several of the security guards MacKenzie had brought in to watch the place, but they were doing a good job of blending in. Declan was personally seeing to the security of the wedding party and guests, as well as keeping the media away from the resort.
Not surprisingly, news outlets across the country were already streaming stories about last night's attack by an apparent domestic terror cell, and that a senator's daughter had been among the victims. Thankfully Candace's name and family hadn't been leaked yet, but it wouldn't stay that way for long.
Jackson stood near the entrance and nodded when he saw Ryan, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Hey, big guy. How you feeling?"
"I feel awesome."
"Uh huh." He gestured outside. "Want to go get our seats before this gets rolling?"
"Yeah." He slipped on his shades as they stepped outside into the bright, late morning sunlight. "Maya hear anything yet?"
"She's been in contact with her people at the Bureau. Apparently March had been building a militia with the hopes of attacking government targets in Montana and elsewhere, eventually planning to hit D.C. His big plan was to have his followers rise up and topple the government, thought the country would rise up against the so-called 'tyranny his ancestors and fellow brothers and sisters in arms' had fought against."
"Wow, he wasn't into small potatoes, was he?"
"Nope. The Feds aren't releasing March's name just yet, but it won't be long. Not sure if they've got him talking yet but they're tracking down all his followers as we speak, and apparently there've already been a fair number rounded up. March Madness is dead." He shot Ryan a sidelong glance. "How's Ace holding up?"