Tae laughed. Then, “Do you hear that?”

A hum sounded up the river, and she and Noemi walked out to the edge of the grass, near the water.

A light parted the darkness, another behind it, farther down, and Tae couldn’t stop herself from running out to the end of the dock.

The boat came into view, Colt at the helm. He raised a hand to her, gave her a nod.

Tears bit her eyes, and her knees wanted to buckle.

Calm down. The last thing he needed was to see her worry.

Good try. Because as Colt cut the power and brought the boat to a gentle glide up to the dock, she was wrapping her arms around herself, trying not to cry.

Get ahold of yourself!

See, not even a little brave.

Dodge threw a line to Noemi, who tied up the boat at the bow.

Colt glanced at Tae, frowning, but turned toward Ranger and a man in the back of the boat.

Pete. He was sopping wet, his blond hair invisible against his pale skin, and wore a grimace. His hands clutched a wound on his leg, tied tight with a tourniquet but still seeping blood.

She wiped her cheeks, grabbed the boat, and climbed in. “What happened?”

Ranger crouched next to him, moving his arm around his body. “Shot.”

He hauled Pete up, who groaned.

“Dad!” Noemi had jumped in too. Tae wanted to get a look at that leg, but she stepped back to let Noemi closer. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Ranger said.

“Is he going to be okay?” Noemi asked her father and Dodge as they climbed out of the boat.

“Let’s get him to a hospital,” Tae said. See, she was fine. She’d already stopped shaking.

“No,” Pete said. “It’s a gunshot wound. There’ll be questions.” He looked at her. “Can you stitch me up?”

Oh boy. “We’ll see. I can try.”

Ranger and Dodge carried him down the dock, Noemi close behind, but when Tae turned to follow, Colt caught her around the arm. “Hey!”

She turned back and he met her eyes, his gleaming in the night. His man bun had come untangled in the wind, but he wore a solemn, almost piercing look about him. “You okay?”

And then, shoot, the tears caught her up and she shook her head. No, no—

“Flo?”

She couldn’t stop herself. She threw her arms around him and held on.

“Oh,” he said, and then he closed his arms around her.

She buried her head in his shoulder, hating herself.

He just held her tight, in the swaying boat, rocked by the waves of the other boat, the bigger one that held the Jones, Inc. crew, just coming to the dock on the other side.

“Something we’re missing?” said a voice—she didn’t know whose.

“It’s all good,” Colt said. “Nothing to see here.”