She gritted her teeth, waiting for the twinge to pass. “Fine.”
Taking hold of her shoulders, Ryan directed her towards the bed. “Sit,” he ordered.
Reminded of how she’d taped his split brow, she sat. “Doctor Kendall, I presume?”
He chuckled. Crouching down, he gripped the smooth skin of her calf in his hands, lifting it up to rest on his knee for a closer inspection.
She sucked in a breath.
“Hurts?”
Yes. Your touch is warm and your palms are rough, and it hurts to have you so close when you don’t want me.
“A little.”
Ryan trailed his fingertips over the red, burgeoning lump on her shin until it felt like an intimate caress.
She shivered and he looked up at her, heat blazing from his eyes. “Fin,” he said hoarsely.
“Mmm?”
He stared at her for moment. His lips curved into a smile, and the hard edges on his face softened, making him almost beautiful. “I think you’ll live.”
She tried to remain casual, but his hand was still caressing her leg. “You have a very capable bedside manner, Doctor Kendall.”
“Fin? What the hell is going on here?”
Ryan snatched his hands away hastily, the smile sliding from his face as they both turned towards the door. He stood as Ian stalked into the room.
Fin cleared her throat, her stomach sinking because she realised she forgot to ring Ian. “Ian. You remember Ryan, don’t you?”
Ryan held out his hand.
Ian looked at it, then at Ryan.
Fin gritted her teeth at the tension in the air.
“I do,” he eventually said, his voice flat and unhappy as he shook Ryan’s hand. Letting go, he added, “I didn’t know you and Jake were home.”
Ian turned to Fin expectantly.
“Jake and Ryan just got—”
“Fin,” he cut her off. “Can we talk?”
Fin stood up, glancing at the unmade bed. “Sure, uh …”
“I can do this, Fin,” Ryan said and nodded at the door. “You go.”
“If you can’t find anything, Ryan, just let me know,” she told him before following Ian out the door.
Walking into her bedroom, he shut the door behind them and folded his arms. “You didn’t ring.”
“I’m sorry. I meant to, but Jake’s return was an unexpected surprise.” Her eyes filled. “I haven’t seen him for two years, Ian. I … we got caught up talking. I missed him so much.”
Ian unfolded his arms and walked towards Fin until he was in her space. His hand came up and cupped her cheek. “Okay. I get that, I do, but … I feel like you’re not invested in us. You’re about to leave for another six months and I don’t want you to go.”
Ian leaned in and touched his lips softly to hers.
“Ian,” she whispered. “This is important to me.”
“You’re important to me.”
Her voice rose a little. “So what I want doesn’t count?”
Ian dropped his hand. “It’s a job, Fin. I’m tired of coming second best to everything else in your life. Christ, even Ryan …”
“Ryan what?”
“Nothing,” he ground out. Ian walked around her and sat on the bed, rubbing at the back of his neck wearily. Fin walked towards him and he reached out and took hold of her hips. Pulling her in, he pressed a kiss against her belly. “Should I stay?”
Fin looked down at him, trailing a hand through his choppy blond hair. “Don’t you have work in the morning?”
Ian’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care about work.”
Fin took a step back. “Okay. I’ll just go check in with Jake and come back. Can I get you anything?”
Ian was already peeling off his shirt, exposing the wide, tanned chest he worked hard at keeping in shape for his job. “Just you.”
Fin paused at the door, looking back over her shoulder. “Be back in a minute.”
Walking down the hall, she saw Ryan’s door was shut. She closed her eyes for a moment, but all she could see was him lying in that bed. She wanted to walk in there, peel off all her clothes, and have him sink himself inside her until she couldn’t breathe from it.
Damn you, Ryan. Why did you have to come back now?
Remembering Ian was waiting, she continued down the hall, rubbing her forehead as her emotions twisted into painful knots.
Reaching the back deck, she found Jake reclining on a cushioned deck chair, coffee in hand as he stared at the stars.
She sighed, sitting down beside him, and picked up the hot tea he’d made her.
“How does it feel being home?”
“It’s hard,” he admitted.
Fin frowned. “Hard?”
“Hard to adjust to normal life,” he expanded. “What we’ve seen and done is so far beyond normal that it’s like being home isn’t my life anymore.”
“What have you seen?”
Jake exhaled loudly. “Children—so many of them—hungry, missing limbs, dirty, and begging in the village streets. We’ve trekked through mountains for days on end and miles of dust. We’ve watched people die.” He looked at her. “I’ve killed people, Fin,” he told her thickly, “and then you come home and everyone is going about their everyday lives—shopping and working, being impatient or unkind, and I want to shout at them all to wake up and see how lucky they are.”