Strong and Sexy (Sky High Air #2)(51)

“Shit.” Apparently already completely over the kiss they’d just shared, he sighed and moved ahead of her to the tarmac door. There, he hesitated, glancing back. “We’ll deal with what just happened later.”

Or never. But Maddie nodded, and when he was on the tarmac, she let out a low breath and reminded herself that the kiss had been her idea, which meant she had no one to blame for messing up the best thing that had ever happened to her.



Shayne let Brody drive him to the hospital because it was easier than arguing. “Seriously. I could have driven myself.”

“Are you kidding? Our insurance company is going to dump you if you get another speeding ticket.”

“I don’t have that many.”

Brody sent him a baleful look.

“Okay, so I have a few speeding tickets.” Shayne didn’t care. He eyed the road, jaw tight, hardly able to breathe. Maddie had taken the call, so he hadn’t heard Dani’s voice, but Maddie had admitted she hadn’t sounded so good. Dani had said only that she was at the ER, and that if it wasn’t too much trouble, she needed Shayne to come and verify her sanity, preferably before she was questioned by the police.

The police?

Shayne had called Dani’s cell, which had gone right to voice mail, then tried the hospital, but they wouldn’t release any information except directly to a family member. Patrick had been next on his list, but he’d had to leave a message.

When Brody got caught in afternoon traffic, Shayne staved off a heart attack by calling the zoo. Their main switchboard was closed, and he couldn’t get past it. “Take the 5,” he directed Brody.

“It’s bumper-to-bumper. I’m going over the pass. What happened, anyway? I thought you two had your one-night already.”

“It turned into two nights.”

“How? I thought it was just sex.”

It had been. Only then he’d gone back for seconds.

And wanted thirds. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re looking like this is a lot more than sex, Shayne.”

“Brody?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” He tried Dani’s cell again, but it was still off. He slapped his phone shut. “Goddamnit.”

“No answers?”

“Maybe if I call the hospital back and tell them I’m her husband—”

Brody choked and nearly drove them off the road.

“Jesus, Brody.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been rendered stupid by the H-word that so easily flew from your lips.”

“Just drive.”

“Noah’s right,” he muttered, watching the road. “You are far gone.”

“Oh yeah? And how does he know?”

“He said he recognized the signs.”

“What signs?”

“The insanity, for one.”

Shayne glanced at the speedometer. “You’re driving like an old lady. Can you get it out of first f*cking gear?”

“Old lady?”

“Seriously. Try second gear. Just for the hell of it, try third.”

“What’s going on, Shayne?”

“What’s going on? Dani’s in the hospital, and no one will tell me why. That’s what’s going on!”

When they finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, Shayne jumped out.

“Shayne, wait.”

“What?”

“Just sex. Remember that.”

Shayne rolled his eyes and ran through the double doors, going directly to the front desk.

A woman in scrubs stood there looking more than slightly harassed. She had a receiver to one ear, a radio to the other, and was eyeing a stack of charts in front of her, where the phone was lit up like a Christmas tree. She was barking orders at someone behind her; 211 was to get a sponge bath and 243 needed blood work. Someone in 316 needed a death certificate signed.

Which nearly gave Shayne a coronary.

“Dani Peterson?” he said. “I need—”

“Hang on.” She tried to switch the top chart to the bottom of her stack and the entire pile tumbled out of her hands to her already cluster-f*cked desk. “Oh, perfect.”

“Dani Peterson?” he asked again.

“Hold on a second, I’m swamped.”

“Dani Peterson.”

When she glanced at him, he lowered his voice. “It’s an emergency.”

“You’re in a hospital. Everything is an emergency.” But whether it was the look on his face or her own humanity kicking in, she sighed in acceptance. “Okay. So you’re Danny Peterson?”

“No.” He willed himself to breathe, and also to access his patience, which he usually had in abundance, but it’d flown south for the winter. “Dani Peterson’s here. I got a call about an accident, and I need to see her. Where is she?”

The nurse leaned over the keyboard and typed something. “Looks like the fourth cubicle on the left—hey,” she called as he began running—“you can’t go in there unless you’re family!”

Shayne whipped open the curtain for the fourth cubicle on the left, but it was empty.

Except for the blood drops on the pillow.