Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Hutch nodded.
Harry started to walk away, doing chin dips as he went, but Hutch called, “It was the thrill.”
Harry turned to him and winced.
“We should have known, with your training, he couldn’t resist,” he replied.
Hutch sighed again.
Harry gave him a smile, passed it around liberally, then walked away.
“What’s this about a thrill?” Abigail asked.
“No idea,” Mabel replied.
“He’s fine. We can go home now,” Mrs. Matthews decreed.
She then pivoted and marched away.
Ellis gave them a brief wave and followed.
“You sure you don’t want me to go look in on Hannibal?” Doc offered.
“Or we can go,” Brett added.
“I need to see my dog’s okay,” Hutch said.
Everyone nodded.
He looked to Mabel.
The minute he did, she came to him and wrapped her hand around his ankle.
She searched his eyes.
He smiled.
And for the first time since they got to the hospital, her tone was her usual sweet, when she said, “Let me go see what’s happening with that boot.”
And then his woman left.
In Doc and Nadia’s guest bedroom, Hutch lay in a line with Mabel tucked to his front, and Hannibal, his poor boy in a cone, tucked to hers.
Tonks was across the foot of their bed, but at Mabel’s shooing, not on their feet.
Moxie was curled into a ball at Hannibal’s gut.
Hannibal was snoring even if Mabel was petting.
“We’re very lucky,” she whispered.
She was right.
“Bad angle for Enstrom, good angle for Hannibal,” he murmured.
Even so, Hannibal had taken twelve pellets and had four more sear through his fur without entering flesh. Some of those twelve drove deep. None of them hit anything major. All of them had been dug out.
He’d been stitched up, given a shot of antibiotics and a heavy sedative.
As she did when he carried him out of his house, Mabel nearly went berserk when Hutch carried him from the vet to his truck.
Fortunately, Doc was there to carry him into the house so she wouldn’t throw another shit fit.
Now they were in bed, finally able to rest, and it was nearly eight o’clock in the morning.
“What was that about the thrill?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
“You’re tired,” she surmised quietly.
He was.
And he was relieved.
Content.
He had a long debate going on with himself about the question of God and faith. But he straight up didn’t believe in fate or destiny.
But he knew one thing.
Something drove him to the training he received in the military.
It was the challenge, for certain, along with loyalty to his country. Perhaps a son’s drive to make his father proud.
But that night, he knew, all of that had been trumped.
Because whatever drove him to become who he was—a divine hand or the universe’s plan—it did it so he’d be able to be right there, with Mabel and their animals, safe, sound and together.
“Yeah, baby,” he answered quietly. “But I can stay awake if you need to talk shit out.”
“We can do that tomorrow when you’re on Doc and Nadia’s couch with your foot elevated.”
Hutch sighed for what he hoped would be the last time in a while.
Then he said, “Proud of you tonight. With a calm head, followed through with orders.”
“I give you all the credit,” she replied. “I was freaking. You were so in the zone, it helped me not lose my shit.”
No.
She was a tough cookie, and a smart one.
“Think I got hard when you rifle whipped Enstrom,” he teased.
“Ugh. Shut up.”
He smiled.
“I do not regret that, he deserved it,” she declared.
He fucking did.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he urged.
“If you promise to do that too.”
“Promise.”
After that, he enjoyed feeling Mabel snuggling into him.
And after that, they both fell asleep.
Mabel, Nadia, Abigail and Lillian were bustling around in the kitchen.
Cin, Rus, Doc and Harry were at the stools outside of it, with Brett leaned against the end. They were shooting the shit, though Harry, who had hold of Cicely, was pretending to eat her tiny, fisted hand, and she was giggle-gurgling.
The older kids, Maddie, Cin’s daughter, and Ledger, had taken Viggo, Liam and Emma into the extra room to play with the puppies.
To keep Mabel happy, Hutch was in the sunken living room on the couch, propped up on pillows behind his back, more under his feet. Hannibal was snoozing on the floor at his side.
This was where he stayed even as Stormy strolled his way with two fresh beers.
He sat his ass on the coffee table and handed Hutch one.
Storm gave his dog a stroke before he threw back a tug then looked at Hutch.
“Worth the risk?” Stormy asked.
Hutch didn’t hesitate. “Worth the risk.”
Hannibal’s head came up as Emma careened into the couch, landed her torso on his, along with her elbows, rested her jaw in her hands and asked, “Missa Hutch, can I have a puppy?”
Thankfully, before he had to answer, Abigail called, “Emma! Be careful with Mr. Hutch and Hannibal. He got his feet hurt last night, and that puppers needs his rest.”