“I’m honored,” Landon said simply, making Dr. Adams smile.
“I doubt that. Before I came here, I was stalling on finalizing my parents’ estate. I didn’t want to deal with any of it. I was remembering Dad’s last words to me. He said, ‘It’s not enough to have the feathers. You must dare to fly.’ Within seconds of the thought, a fluffy white feather blew across my desk and landed on a brochure for this hospital. There was no reason for any sort of feather to be in my house. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how I got here. I even had to pull strings to get approval to come. I’m trying as hard as I can to see life from a different perspective.” Dr. Adams took a deep, cleansing shuddering breath while Landon held his tongue, hoping to hear more. “We should get you inside.”
Landon surely didn’t qualify as any sort of a counselor, so he reluctantly let the doctor change the subject only because he didn’t know how to keep him talking. “I’m still volunteering to be left out here for the night.”
“We’re late for your medication. They’ll be looking for you soon.”
“Buzz kill,” he teased, watching Dr. Adams quickly grab their things before taking them to the closest trash bin. When he came back to Landon, Dr. Adams took the seat again, silently staring at him for a good long second before speaking.
“Thank you for this tonight. Thank you for everything you’ve done. I don’t know how to ever repay you, but you’ve helped me.” Dr. Adams placed his hand on Landon’s arm, giving a gentle squeeze then lingered there. He liked this doctor touching him far too much, but more importantly, he wanted the doctor eased from the heavy burden he carried. Humor seemed the best possible way.
“Doc, I’ve told you how. Leave me out here.” Landon got the smile he wanted, that sexy grin was back as Dr. Adams placed the book in Landon’s lap and shoved to his feet, going around to the back of his chair. He started pushing Landon toward the door.
“Then let’s just leave it at a verbal thank-you for now so I can keep my job.” The intimacy of the moment passed as an aide met them at the back door, helping him inside.
Chapter 5
Robert did what he had done almost every morning for the past month: opened his eyes wide and listened to the noises around him. The energy felt odd. It was lighter in the room than normal, and he lifted his left arm to look at the time. Seven-oh-three in the morning. He had slept in by about four hours, and he felt good. The much-needed calm held, and he dropped his arm back to the bed, closing his eyes again. He inhaled deeply and stretched his long body in the soft sheets. A smile ghosted his lips. That was new too.
Such a simple act of waking late would normally cause him great anxiety as he wondered what he’d missed and how in the world he’d catch up his day, but now it made him grin like a Cheshire cat. He could feel the constrictive bonds that had held him in a constant state of anxiety relaxing their grip. Landon. Images of the man filled his thoughts. Robert had been right to fight to come to Germany. He had needed Landon to convince him to rethink the possibilities of forever. Today, although really too early for such an assumption, he didn’t sense the heavy burden of oppression or dread that always greeted him when he woke. Robert did a full body assessment, grinning broader when his initial thoughts held.
Now, he had to make sure he harnessed whatever this was. Landon. His mind wandered again to the dark-haired sergeant. The guy was handsome as sin. He’d always been attracted to dark and devilish-looking men. And he stopped his wayward thoughts right there. He wasn’t sure he should let his mind go roaming freely—it wasn’t yet on the short list of approved activities to keep himself on this side of depression. This calm was too precious and fragile. He needed to focus on a full recovery before he let too much back into his life.
He looked around at the cold white walls as if seeing his small room for the first time. He’d never thought about it until now, but it was empty. Not that there wasn’t furniture there. It had been a quiet place for him to hide in his grief. There were two beds, one that he’d never used before. There were also two locker style pieces of furniture, two desks, and two chairs. He hadn’t used those either. The room lacked character and bordered on sterile. He’d never been a messy person, but this was ridiculously tidy even for him.
Maybe the room was a metaphor for the last nine months—don’t think about that either.
Maybe a good old-fashion cry with a commiserating friend was what he had needed the most. His smile gentled as he rose, purposefully leaving the bed unmade as he reached for his cell phone. He had a personal friend for the first time in a long time. Of course, he had work acquaintances—lots of those—but when the workday ended, they all went their separate ways. He considered Landon’s friendship an entirely different entity.
From the first moment he’d looked into the sergeant’s dark eyes, he’d felt the draw pulling them together. The man had showed him kindness and listened without judgment. Landon’s understanding of his family and the carefully placed words had methodically stripped back layers of the protective walls Robert had been hiding behind to help cope with this tremendous guilt. Robert had always known his fathers had something special, but the sergeant had shown
