Page 69 of A Moment In Time

Gage squinted at her. “And he’s not from around here.”

Sydney shrugged. “That doesn’t bother me. I’m not from around here either. We could bond over that.” She took his hand. “Why don’t you tell me the real reason you’d have a problem with me getting up close and personal with Deputy Kimbal?”

He looked at their clasped hands. “I miss the hell out of you, Sydney.”

“Because of my skills as your Lois Lane?”

He shook his head. “No. Because seeing you every day at the office makes the job a hell of a lot easier.” He gave her a small smile. “You are a pretty great Lois Lane, though.”

“Well, Superman. Or should I call you Clark? I really wish you could just get over yourself and admit you like me. And I’m fully aware that you liking someone is different from anyone else liking someone. It’s more complicated and buried under all the layers of stuff you have floating around in your very busy mind. But somewhere in there, I believe you have feelings for me.”

She was right. He did. But could he freely admit it? And if he did, what would that mean? “All I know is I’ve missed you. And right here and now, you’re the only person I want holding my hand.”

She nodded as her eyes teared up. “Right now. That’s good enough for me.”

“Corbyn, I can’t stay here. I will go crazy lying in this bed.”

Corbyn shook his head. “You’re a worse patient than Cooper. And he was terrible. But I can’t in good conscience let you go home to an empty house. If you can convince someone to come stay the weekend with you. Then I’ll sign off on it.”

“I’ll talk to Cabe. If he can tear himself away from Jovie long enough to help his brother out.”

“He did help save your life.”

“And I’ll be forever grateful. But seriously, he and Jovie are connected at the hip these days. Why don’t they just get married already?”

“I’m sure they will when they’re ready. And when did you become pro-marriage?”

“I don’t have anything against people getting married. I just don’t want it for myself.” He scowled at Corbyn. “And you’re one to talk, Mr. Thirty-seven-year-old single father.”

Sydney came through the door. “Am I interrupting?”

Corbyn glanced at her. “No. You have perfect timing.”

She smiled at Gage. “Are you going home today?”

He looked at her. “Shouldn’t you be at the office?”

“I’m going. I just wanted to check up on you before I went in. And…” She held up a Styrofoam box. “I brought you breakfast.”

Corbyn stepped back from the bed. “He’s only going home if he gets some help for the next few days.”

“Help at home?”

“Yeah.”

Gage grumbled. “A babysitter, in other words.”

Corbyn shook his head and left the room.

Sydney set the box down on the bedside table. “Did we wake up on the grumpy side of the bed?”

“I’m afraid both sides of this bed are grumpy.” He glanced at the box. “What did you bring me?”

“Biscuits and gravy.”

“From the café or from Remy?”

“Remy. Why?”

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