Siren in the Wind Book One of the MIT Series

Chapter Forty Five

Abby woke to two very different male snores. One loud and raspy and the other sounding like a squeaky puppy. Max lay stretched out on the chair, balancing a snoring Gabe like a football in his lap. The comical pair had her giggling, a sound she promptly regretted as a pain lanced through her chest.

Max was by her side in a flash, tucking Gabe under his arm and stroking her hair. "Easy now, baby. Shallow breaths, you'll be okay."

Abby breathed through the pain before grasping his strong hand in hers. Max laid a sleeping Gabe by her side.

He described her injuries, one cracked rib, a badly bruised cheekbone and a stitched-up shoulder wasn't a bad outcome considering she'd gone head to head with international extremists and survived the bloody war. A nurse then kicked him out, fussing over her vitals for the next thirty minutes. After that, the doctor traipsed in, followed by the warrior Asgard gang, needing a debriefing on what had gone down after Max and Abby were separated. Noleen then settled by the foot of her bed.

All of the excitement wore her out. All she'd wanted was quality time with her son and to have a simple conversation with Max. When they were finally alone, Abby drifted off into oblivion only to wake the following morning feeling like she'd been dragged through a hedge backward by a raging stallion, who tossed her to the ground, trampling over her tender body with giant hooves.

"Ouch," she groaned without opening her eyes to the throbbing ache that was her body.

Max yelled for a nurse, and when one walked into the room a minute later, Abby heard the irritation in his voice as the attendant rifled through charts. "She's in pain. Stop fannying about and get her something."

Abby grinned inside. "Fannying about" was a British saying she'd adopted in South Africa. Max had obviously inherited the verbiage from her, and it sounded damn cute coming from him. She heard the poor woman scurrying around like she was about to get shot. The man was formidable, and she sympathized. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of that frosty glare.

Max spoke softly in her ear as he traced it with his thumb in that touching way. The muttered sweet nothings and the occasional kiss on her forehead kept her eyes closed. At some point, she'd need to put her big girl panties on and emerge painfully from her cocoon. A girl needed to pee and freshen up before facing a room full of tall warriors, and one adorable kiddo who needed attention. Besides, she needed to scrub the terror of the past couple of days off her skin.

"Where's Gabriel?"

"With Noleen in the cafeteria, having his breakfast. That kid sure can eat."

"He does love his food. There's not a fussy bone in his little body. I need him with me."

"You need to rest. You've been in the hospital for fourteen hours; your body hasn't even begun to heal."

"Stop making a mountain out of a damn molehill. I'm getting my shit together, and I'm starting with a shower."

Ignoring the protesting alpha male in the room, Abby climbed onto wobbly legs before an unkempt Max with five o'clock stubble pretty much carried her into the bathroom. The nurse hovered close by as she negotiated through painful ablutions. A toothbrush, underwear, new pajama set, and a hairbrush sat on the counter. Looking at the mirror came as a shock; half her face was swollen. Butterfly stitching stood out starkly on pale skin.

When Abby was done, Max helped her back into bed. He'd retreated into that remote shell, the clandestine operator mode that made him seem like he had the world on his shoulders.

Abby reached out for his hand, and he grasped it tightly. "How's the ankle?"

"I'm on pain meds, feels fine."