“You didn’t hurt your leg, did you?” Rachel asked, as he opened two bottles of beer and handed one to her.
“Nope. I’ve never felt better,” he assured her, and pulled her in for a long, slow kiss.
“Any nightmares?” she asked, searching his eyes.
“Only ones where you’re not in my life,” he said.
“I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”
“The nightmares are getting less frequent,” he acknowledged. “The doctor says they may never go away completely, but I’m learning to cope.”
“You can always talk to me.”
He tightened his arms around her. “Having you there when I wake up is the best medicine I could ask for.” Releasing her, he cocked his head and listened for a moment. “I think we have company.”
Rachel smiled. “They’re here. I’ll get the salad started. If I know Dylan, he’s probably starving.”
Jamie made his way through the house just as the front door opened, and Diane McCafferty poked her head through. “Hello! Is anyone home?”
“In here, Mom!” Rachel called.
Diane opened the door wider, and Dylan entered the house, sporting two crutches and a brace on his leg that went from his ankle to his thigh. It wasn’t a cast, but it immobilized his leg just as effectively.
“Hey, man,” Jamie said, and couldn’t help from grinning. “Welcome home. Glad to see you up and around.”
Dylan gave Jamie a rueful smile, before reaching out to fist-bump him. “Yeah, well, we make quite a pair. Glad to see you got your cast off. How soon before you head back to your unit?”
Jamie shrugged. “I’m not sure. Right now it’s all up in the air. How about you? What’s your recovery time?”
Dylan shook his head. “I don’t know. The doc says it could be as much as six months, but we’ll see. Hey, I gotta sit down.” He grimaced. “Surprisingly, the stitches in my abdomen bother me more than my knee.”
“They took out your spleen, bro,” Jamie said. “That has to hurt.”
He followed Dylan onto the deck, and they both settled into a chaise and laid their crutches aside. Dylan tipped his head back and closed his eyes.
“Man, it feels good to be home,” he said.
“Yeah, well let’s hope you feel the same in six weeks,” Jamie said. “Trust me, when you reach that point, even a trip to the proctologist sounds fun.”
Dylan cracked an eyelid and grinned. “You’re killing my chi, man.”
“Maybe now is the time we could start our own extreme adventure business,” Jamie said, thoughtfully stroking his chin. “We’ll call it Adventures for the Incapacitated.”
Dylan laughed. “Mountaineering for the Maimed and Mangled.”
“The Out-of-Action Experience.”
“What are you two laughing at?” Rachel said, as she stepped onto the deck and handed them each a beer. Laurel followed her, and Jamie was glad to see Rachel’s earlier animosity had completely vanished.
“Hey, Laurel,” he said. “I’m glad you came over.”
She pushed her glasses up on her nose, and her gaze slid to Dylan, where it lingered. “Yes, I came as soon as I saw Dylan get out of the car. How are you feeling, Dylan?”
He shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the way she devoured him with her eyes. “As well as can be expected. Thanks for taking care of Boomer. You’re the best.”
Laurel flushed with pleasure. “Of course. Any time, you know that.” Abruptly, she turned away and took a hasty sip of the soda she carried.
“So what were you two talking about?” Rachel asked. “I heard something about being out of action?”
Jamie took Rachel’s hand and tugged her down until she was sitting on the chaise with him. “Dylan and I used to talk about starting our own extreme adventure company, so we were deciding what we would call it, considering neither of us can hike a flight of stairs, never mind a mountain. We thought the Out-of-Action Adventures had a nice ring to it.”
Dylan cleared his throat. “So is this thing between you two—” He gestured vaguely toward the two of them with one hand. “Is this official?”
Jamie looked at Rachel, and she gave him a smile that made his toes curl. “Yes,” she said. “It’s the real deal, so get used to it.”
Dylan held his hand up, but his mouth curved in a smile. “Whatever. I know he’s had a thing for you since we were kids, so I’m glad you’ve finally put him out of his misery.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Laurel said, turning back to them. She looked at Dylan. “I’ve always thought friends-to-lovers romances are the best kind. Don’t you think so?”