Triple Dare by Regina Kyle Page A

heavily medicated and he needs rest.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Cappy answered for the rest of the crew.
    The nurse gave him a curt nod and left.
    “How’s the cat?” Cade tried to smile, but his face felt numb.
    “A damn sight better than you,” Sykes joked, moving into the room to Cade’s bedside.
    “And before you ask, the two bystanders you saved are fine, too,” Hansen added, joining his partner.
    “Thank God,” Cade croaked, his throat dry.
    “They want to thank you.” Cappy stopped at the foot of the bed. “The department’s already talking about an awards ceremony.”
    “I was just doing my job.” A job he wouldn’t be doing for the next six weeks, minimum, Cade thought, grimacing at the cast on his left leg.
    “You know how the brass is.” Cappy sighed. “Always willing to cash in on a chance for some publicity.”
    “The press will eat you up with those movie-star good looks,” Sykes teased.
    Hansen nodded. “They’re camped outside, waiting for you to be released.”
    “Well, they’re going to be waiting a while. We’re keeping him overnight for observation.” The nurse was back with a cup of water and some pills. She handed both to Cade. “Take these. They’ll help you sleep.”
    With a groan, he propped himself up, popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down. “Thanks.”
    Then he collapsed against the pillow.
    The nurse checked the chart hanging by the bed and turned to Cade’s guests. “Time for you boys to leave. I broke protocol to get you in here after visiting hours, but that’s only because I’ve got a soft spot for first responders.”
    “No problem, ma’am,” Cappy said.
    “Call me
ma’am
again and there’ll be a problem.” The nurse’s smile softened her snappy rejoinder.
    “We’ll see you tomorrow, Cade.” Hansen gave the blanket an awkward pat.
    “Let us know if you need anything.” Sykes clapped Cade on the shoulder. “Like booze. Or broads. Or dirty magazines.”
    “Very funny. Now get out of here and let me sleep.”
    Cade closed his eyes and listened until the only sounds were the beeps and whirs of the monitors.
    His head ached. His leg throbbed. Broken in two places, the doctors said. They also said he was lucky it wasn’t worse. Both clean breaks, no need for surgery. No internal bleeding, all his vital organs intact.
    But he didn’t feel lucky. He felt like shit.
    Six weeks in a cast meant six weeks out of work. Maybe longer until he got cleared for more than light duty.
    What the hell was he supposed to do until then? He lived the job. He was the job. His days and nights, work and free time, all revolved around the station.
    Fucking pathetic.
    It was no surprise that the guys from B Company had been his only visitors. His own parents hadn’t even called. The hospital had left a message for them as his next of kin, but as far as he knew they hadn’t bothered to respond. And Ivy...
    Ivy.
    Did she even know he was hurt? It wasn’t like he could ask the nurses to call her, with their relationship a better-kept secret than the formula for Coca-Cola. And he didn’t have a clue what had happened to his cell phone.
    He reached for the nightstand and fumbled around. No phone, but he did manage to knock over a plastic pitcher of water and the TV remote.
    Cade sank back onto the pillow. His eyes drifted shut again and his breathing slowed. Whatever the doctor had given him was working, that was for sure. And that meant whatever he wanted to say to Ivy would have to wait for morning.
    Until then, he’d have to be satisfied with dreaming about her.
    It could have been ten minutes or ten hours later when soft voices pierced his semicomatose state.
    “Are you sure this is okay?”
    Ivy?
    “Sure, I’m sure.”
    The pink-scrubbed nurse.
    “I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”
    Yep. Definitely Ivy.
    “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. If anyone asks, just tell them you’re his fiancée.”
    His what?
    “His...what?” Ivy said, echoing