Waking the next morning with his arms still wrapped around Kyle was almost surreal. It’d been so long since anyone had spent the night; since he’d even wanted that from another man. The people he’d brought back to his apartment were meant to fulfill a need, and once that need was met, they left. Obviously in a small town it was impossible not to see some of them again, but Wes had thus far done an admirable job of separating his private persona from the one he presented to the public.

The lines were blurred with Kyle, though. They had been from the start, when he’d seen a glimpse of the other man’s vulnerability. It was only more complicated now, because while last night had been one of the better sexual experiences of his life, it’d also been borne of an emotional need he couldn’t deny.

It might have been easy for the Wes of the past to just shower and leave with the expectation that Kyle would lock up, but the thought of doing so made something twist in his chest. It felt deeply wrong, so much so that he was slammed with guilt for even thinking it.

Instead, he lay in bed, watching the slow rise and fall of Kyle’s chest until his phone went off at five thirty, sounding the morning alarm. Kyle groaned, looking at him bleary-eyed with a shy, sleepy smile that Wes was forced to respond to, his lips brushing over the other man’s.

A shared shower might have been his next preference, but they didn’t have time. A presentation needed to be readied for Sloane, and he took turns fixing breakfast with Kyle, the younger man taking the first shower shift, Wes taking the second. By the time they were both clean, the bacon, eggs, and toast were done and they sat at his kitchen table, talking about their future plans for the hospital as though it were completely normal.

Gathering their best pieces of data, they agreed to speak with Sloane in the evening, before the director left for the day. The chance of seeing each other for more than a few moments at a time was slim to none, so everything was solidified beforehand, and they left in their respective cars to face what was likely to be a hectic Sunday.

Neither of them had prepared for the reality of it.

Outside of working alongside him, getting vitals and administering care, Wes barely saw Kyle. There wasn’t time for a lunch break. There was barely enough time to take a piss. From the moment he’d walked through the door until roughly five in the evening—an hour before Sloane was supposed to leave for the day—Wes was slammed. Case after case, patient after patient, from those who’d toughed out a cold over the weekend, all the way to a stroke.

When he’d finally caught up with the new patients, there were rounds to attend to, but Wes searched for Kyle first. They had a limited amount of time to speak to Sloane—especially since the man had a habit of ducking out early. It would be best to go now, when the proverbial sky wasn’t falling.

Kyle, however, was nowhere to be found. But Wes did spot Sloane, briefcase in hand as he headed down the stairs.

“Tom!” he called, rushing toward the stairwell, past an orderly who was pulling a cart of supplies out of a closet.

“Oh, Wes. I was hoping I’d catch you,” he said, the lack of eye contact suggesting anything but, “I wanted to give you a heads up that the Horn is going to announce the closure tomorrow, so things might get a little… crazy around here.”

Wes just stared at the man, taken aback by so many parts of that statement that he had no clue where to start. The most egregious oversight seemed like the logical place, though. “You told the press before telling your employees?”

“It’s better if everyone hears it from one place,” Tom said, still avoiding eye contact. “It’s not like we can shut down the hospital and call everyone into the cafeteria for a meeting. People would have to find out through the grapevine, anyway.”

Wes shook his head, too astounded to say anything. At least until Sloane made his way further down the stairs, toward the exit.

“Wait,” he called, before realizing he hadn’t brought the packet with him. Kyle had it, tucked safely in his locker. But if he let Sloane leave now, the information would never make it to the paper. “I need to talk to you about the closure. I think there’s a way we can keep the doors open without running you further into debt.”

Tom looked down at his watch, shooting a wistful glance to the door. “I told June I’d be out of here before six, Wes. It’s our anniversary today, did you know that?”

Of course it was his anniversary on the day when all of Hidden Creek had devolved into a complete meltdown—one that would continue once that story ran.

“Happy anniversary,” Wes managed, moving to block Tom’s retreat. “This won’t take more than fifteen minutes, I swear.”

Sloane glanced at his watch one more time, sighed, then said, “All right, Wesley.” He gestured up the stairs. “You know the way.”

Wes went first, half convinced Sloane was going to bolt if he didn’t keep an eye on the man. It was too much of a risk to get Kyle. He’d have to do this alone. Then again, he’d known Tom Sloane most of his life—the good, the bad, and the ugly. If anyone was equipped to win the man over, it was Wes.

Once they were in his office, Tom closed the door and moved to make himself comfortable behind his desk, his slight beer belly catching on the edge of it before he adjusted his chair.

“Let’s hear it, then,” Tom said, moving his mouse around to wake up his ancient computer.

“I’ve been looking through the financial records with Kyle Harris—”

“—the nurse?” Tom asked, his gaze fixed on the screen. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“—and we’ve found some areas where the hospital is over-spending. There are programs and facilities that can be cancelled and closed that will cut back almost twenty percent of what it takes to run this hospital annually.”

“And how many people have to lose their jobs for that?” he asked.

Again Wes was rendered speechless for a moment. If the hospital closed, everyone would lose their jobs. Some might be rehired when the county turned the building into a regional branch or walk-in clinic, but it would be a fraction of the people working there.

Rather than focus on that, though, he continued. “Ideally no one. We can shift a few positions around, automate a couple processes, stop funneling utilities to parts of the hospital that aren’t used.” Still the man wasn’t looking at him, so Wes put his hands-on Sloane’s desk and leaned forward, making himself unavoidable. “We’ve run the numbers, Tom. This’ll work. The hospital can stop treading water. And if we do something in the community—a fundraiser or auction or something—the costs can be set right a lot sooner. You can even hire someone to manage things part-time, so you can spend more time with June.”

Finally Sloane looked up at him, and Wes saw the first spark of hope he’d seen in the man for nearly a week. “This is an honest-to-God plan, son? Not some pipe dream?”

“Have a financial analyst run it if you need to, but it’s solid. Hidden Creek Memorial doesn’t have to close, as long as you don’t want it to.”

And if he did? Wes hadn’t thought of a plan for that, and he hadn’t wanted to raise the possibility with Kyle. Tom was nearing the age of retirement. His wife wanted him home. Closing the hospital was a clean, easy way to ensure his own future—at the cost of the town.

Maybe his faith was unfounded. Wes had never been one to trust beyond a shadow of a doubt, but years ago, Tom Sloane gave him a chance. He saw something in Wes no one else did, and he’d done everything in his power to nurture that and keep Wes in Hidden Creek so the community could benefit from his talent and dedication.

That was the man he needed to come through for the hospital, and that was the man he desperately hoped to see.

“Get me the papers,” he said. “If it’s like you say, then we’ll do it.”

Wes let out the breath he’d been holding before another concern struck him. “And the press release?”

“If this’ll honestly be enough to keep the doors open, I’ll call Matt tonight and make sure he puts it in the article.” There was a spark in his eyes that hadn’t been there before; a smile Wes recognized from the man’s younger days. “Maybe he can help us with the community bit, too, that way people’ll feel like they can do something about it when they get the news.”

Wes’ heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time, and the one person he wanted to share it with… was Kyle. A smile crept across his face, and he started toward the door. “I’ve still got ten minutes out of those fifteen you promised me. Let me get Kyle and the papers.”

“Make it twenty minutes,” Tom said, waving him off.

“What about your anniversary?”

“If this gets me home more often, June’ll understand.” Sloane made a shooing gesture, and Wes hurried out of the office, making his way toward the stairs.

They’d done it. It might not have been set in stone, but it still felt like a massive victory, and he couldn’t wait to tell Kyle.