Piper swayed.

He removed his hand quickly and caught her, gathering her up against his chest. “How about we call ourselves ‘more than friends’?”

“That’s too broad. It could mean anything.” She rubbed absent circles on his chest while he counted her eyelashes. “Married people are more than friends.”

It was too soon to examine why he liked the word “married” on her lips so much, right? “We’ll go with ‘more than friends,’” he rumbled, kissing her before she could protest. It took her a few seconds to participate, but their mouths quickly turned breathless. He backed her against the wall once more, Piper’s palm molding to the front of his jeans where his cock rose again, ready, desperate for more of her—

“Brendan Taggart, please make your way to the fourth-floor information desk,” came a tired voice over the PA system, repeating itself twice while they remained frozen mid-kiss.

“Fuck,” he ground out, breathing through his nose and willing his hard-on to subside. There was no way it was happening, though, so he adjusted himself to be as inconspicuous as possible, then took Piper’s hand and tugged her toward the door. “Come with me.”

“Oh.” He looked back over his shoulder to find Piper patting her haphazard hair in a way he found adorable. “Um. Okay.”

Brendan moved the chair he’d braced under the door handle, and they walked side by side into the dim hospital hallway. He looked down at her, trying to puzzle together how she felt about the label “more than friends.” This conversation, this war, was far from over, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d won a battle, just getting her to hold his hand as if it was the natural thing to do. You’re not getting rid of me, Piper.

“Brendan?”

The sound of his father-in-law’s voice caused a hitch in his stride. Brendan tore his attention off of Piper to find Mick loitering by the information desk. “Mick.”

His father-in-law went still, dismay marring his features as he split a look between Brendan and Piper. Their joined hands. Piper’s messy hair. And for a few seconds, Brendan couldn’t stave off the guilt. Not completely. But only because he should have gone to Mick, told the man about his feelings for Piper. Blindsiding him like this was the last thing Brendan wanted to do. He’d never seen Brendan with anyone but his daughter, and the shock had to bite.

Distracted by his regrets, he didn’t react quickly enough to Piper pulling her hand away.

He tried to get it back, but it was too late.

“Hey, Mick,” she said quietly, wetting her lips.

Mick didn’t respond. In fact, he blatantly ignored Piper, and Brendan felt a surge of anger. This was his fault, though. He’d missed a crucial step, and now here they were, in this awkward situation that could have been avoided. And dammit, the last thing he needed was to hand Piper another reason to keep distance between them.

“Oh good,” said a smiling nurse, stepping behind the desk. “You found him.”

“Just came to check on Sanders,” Mick mumbled, jerking his thumb at nowhere in particular.

“Oh, um. I’m going to . . .” Piper started. “I, um . . . You can get a ride back with Mick, right?” She wouldn’t look at him, was already edging toward the elevators. “Hannah is probably wondering where I am. I should head home.”

Brendan followed Piper, catching her by the elbow before she could hit the call button. “Stay. We’ll drive home together.”

“Stop.” She batted his chest playfully, falling back on flirting. “You totally have to stay here and make sure Sanders is okay. I’ll just see you later!”

“Piper.”

“Brendan,” she echoed, mimicking his serious face while her finger desperately punched the elevator button. “It’s fine, okay?” When he still hesitated to let go of her elbow, she lost her bravado and begged him with her eyes. “Please.”

With a stiff nod, he watched her disappear behind the doors of the elevator, already missing the weight of her hand inside his. He wanted to go after her, at least kiss her before she drove home, but had a feeling she needed space. He just hoped the headway they’d made this morning on the journey to “more than friends” hadn’t been erased in a matter of minutes.

Duty and respect pulled at him, so while he vowed to make things right with Piper later, he turned on a heel and went to face his father-in-law.

Mick put up a hand as Brendan reached him. “You don’t have to explain, Brendan. I know you’re a young man with oats to sow.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not a lot of fellas who’d be able to ignore a girl like that.”

“No. She’s . . . impossible to ignore.” He’d made it all of one day, hadn’t he? Less? Before she’d started feeling . . . inevitable. Brendan couldn’t help glancing back at the elevator. When he turned around, Mick was fixated on his ring finger. The lack of hardware surrounding it, rather. The lines around Mick’s eyes turned stark white and a sheen filled them.

Brendan hated the feeling of disloyalty that burrowed under his skin. Logically, he knew there was nothing disloyal about him pursuing Piper. Not at all. But this man who’d taken Brendan under his wing, made him the captain of his boat, and been a damn good friend and father figure . . . shit, disappointing him burned. It was right there on the tip of his tongue to explain that he was serious about Piper, not sowing oats, but Mick seeing he’d finally taken off his wedding ring was enough for one day. He didn’t need to hit the man over the head. Not when he probably saw the lack of Brendan’s ring as one more piece of his daughter being chipped away.

He clapped Mick on the shoulder. “Let’s go check on Sanders, all right?”

Mick, obviously grateful for the change of subject, nodded, and they walked side by side to the wing where Sanders was healing.

Chapter Nineteen

Piper dragged herself up the steps to the apartment and unlocked the door. Out of concern for her growling stomach, she’d stopped for coffee and breakfast on the ride home, making it close to noon. She’d already texted Hannah to let her know Brendan and the crew were fine, then promptly ignored all the follow-up questions about how things went at the hospital. Because . . . how did things go at the hospital?

Still not in possession of concrete answers, she trudged into the apartment carrying a cinnamon dolce latte for Hannah, half expecting her sister to be working at the record shop, but Hannah was lying on the top bunk, obligatory headphones over her ears, wailing about a simple twist of fate.

Piper knocked on the frame of the bunk bed, and Hannah yelped, shooting up into a sitting position and knocking the headphones onto the cradle of her neck. Her startled expression turned quickly to delight. “Oooh. For me?”

Piper handed her sister the cup. “Hmm.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow while taking a sip. “You look . . . different today.”

“I took a shower last night and slept with wet hair,” Piper murmured absently, sitting down on the bottom bunk. She stared at the far wall of the apartment—which was actually quite near—and tried to process the last few hours.

Her sister hopped down from the top bunk. “Piper.” She snuggled close, nudging Piper in the ribs with an elbow. “You’re too quiet. Talk to me.”