All I Need (Hearts of the South) (15 page)

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “How about if I text you?”

“Sounds good.” He glanced at his phone, grimaced, and sat up. He brushed his mouth over her shoulder. “I have a Saturday seminar today and have to get ready. Want to shower with me?”

“I don’t know. Shower activities can be dangerous.” She dared to let her fingers drift over his. “I had to put stitches in the back of Rob’s head one time because of shower sex.”

“Told you, no sex yet.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her. “And I promise not to let you fall.”

* * * * *

“Hey, Roger, these are for Ray Lewis over at the paper. He’s supposed to pick them up later.” Emmett dropped the folders in the outbox at the department’s front desk. Lewis was a major pain in the ass, requesting copious amounts of reports through the Open Records Act. At least one morning a week, Emmett spent an hour or so simply fulfilling those requests.

On the way back to his closet-sized office, he stopped at the vending machine in the multipurpose room for a bottle of water and to distribute a set of memos on available professional development into officer boxes. For once, the room sat empty, save for the brunette leaning against Rob’s desk, eyeing the intricate notes he’d compiled on the whiteboard for the EMT shootings. Her trim dark suit screamed Fed or GBI, and visiting officers weren’t exactly a rarity.

“All I did was ask when you were coming back to work.” Troy Lee strode in from the back hallway, Rob at his side. “It’s not a declaration of undying affection.”

“Admit it.” Dressed casually in jeans and an Auburn T-shirt, Rob grinned. “You miss me.”

“I’ve gotten used to having someone to talk to in the car.”

The brunette looked around at that, amusement curving her full mouth. “I assumed you’d talk to yourself.”

“Morning, Falconetti.” Troy Lee harrumphed and snagged a new ticket book from the supply shelf. He nudged Rob. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I’m taking four more work days and the weekend, until we’re through the ten-day waiting period.”

“Bennett, are these yours?” Falconetti gestured at the notes and diagrams covering the whiteboard and glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Yes.” He crossed to stand next to her.

“They’re good. I thought Tick said you only had three incidents?”

Rob leaned forward to tap the board, where a fourth column detailed a bullet hole being found in an ambulance after a run, followed by a question mark. “Not sure about this one. If so, it would be the first.”

A slight frown drew her elegant brows together. “This escalated fast.”

“I know. If it’s the same guy, and we don’t have any reason not to think it isn’t, I wonder if something happened between him shooting at Clark and him actually shooting Beau and Andy.”

“Usually, snipers like the attention the shootings bring.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “How did you manage to keep it out of the media?”

“Busy news week for the local stations in Albany, and the newspapers tend to follow them.” Rob shrugged. “They didn’t pick up on this.”

“Ray Lewis did.” Emmett gestured toward the front office, and Falconetti shifted her gaze to him. He recognized her now—the brunette in the wedding and family photos on Calvert’s desk. In person, she had a cool polish about her that made him think of the way Savannah carried herself. “He requested all the available reports.”

“Great.” Rob’s mouth twisted into a pained grimace, and he scuffed a hand over his neck. “Lewis will give him all the attention he wants, and you can bet it will have a negative slant to it.”

“Of course.” Falconetti brushed her hair away from her face. “If you need help with this, let me know. Tick can give you my cell number.”

“Thanks.” Rob paused, still frowning at the board. “He’s going to do it again, isn’t he?”

“Yes, unless something prevents him.” She lifted one shoulder in a graceful shrug. “They don’t simply stop.”

“Hey, precious, sorry I’m late.” Calvert rapped against the doorframe. “I got held up in the county commission planning meeting. You ready?”

“Yes.” She turned her attention to Rob. “Contact me if you need me.”

“Thanks.” Rob snapped a shot of the board with his phone. He grabbed a thin stack of folders from his desk. “I’ve got to get home. See you guys later.”

The smile Falconetti turned on Calvert as she met him at the door lit up her entire face, transforming her from ice princess to real and genuine in a heartbeat. The older man rested his palm against the small of her back and ushered her before him. The easy intimacy in their interaction triggered a burning wave of envy in Emmett’s chest.

That kind of relationship was the last thing Savannah wanted with him, even if they had spent the last three nights in his bed, even if he was meeting her physical needs. He frowned. His mama and dad certainly hadn’t had that kind of interaction, so he didn’t have a model to follow.

Son of a bitch, he really didn’t have a clue what to do next.

And Savannah sure as hell wasn’t going to help him figure that out.

* * * * *

His apartment was too quiet and too empty.

After a quick shower that triggered memories of Savannah’s soft curves and sultry moans, Emmett tugged on a T-shirt and jeans. He eyed his grad-course books, still on the chair, but couldn’t dredge up any enthusiasm for exploring the role servant leadership might play in a law-enforcement setting.

He missed her, damn it. Being this lonely without her after three short nights was not only bizarre, but mildly frightening. He was in over his head, and he didn’t want to think about the possibility she might decide his days were limited.

The doorbell rang, and his heart kicked up a notch. Troy Lee and Clark always knocked; there really wasn’t anyone else to be visiting him. Sure enough, Savannah waited on the walkway when he opened the door. He leaned an arm on the doorjamb. “Hey.”

“Hey.” An uncertain smile flitted across her face and disappeared. “I’m going to pick up something for dinner and take it over to Amy and Rob’s. I wanted to see you and thought I’d ask if you wanted to come with me. I understand if it’s too weird, too soon, or whatever…”

She was cute when she rambled. Warmth and relief flushed him, and he grinned. “It’ll probably be weird, but what the hell. Let me grab my shoes.”

His Sanuks waited by the couch, and he slipped his feet into them while she tapped a nervous tattoo on the door.

“You know, if it’s weird, I can run over there, stay a while, then we can see each other after—”

He stopped the flow of words with his mouth, one hand curved around her nape, silky hair teasing his fingers. Hot damn, this was becoming his favorite way of slowing her down until her fear was under control.

What had made her so afraid? Even as she melted into him and her mouth softened under his, the question teased his brain.

He lifted his head enough to nuzzle his nose against hers. “New is always weird. As long as you don’t think they’ll mind me being there, we’re good. It’s only weird a little while.”

She smoothed her fingers over his collarbone. “I told you I don’t know what to do.”

A smile hitched at his mouth. “And I told you I do.”

After they picked up dinner specials from the Bistro, he watched her navigate the residential streets. She had a habit of flexing her fingers out over the steering wheel, and something about the gesture nudged at his earlier uneasiness.

“Savannah.” He knew voicing the question was probably tantamount to asking her to put him out on the side of the street, but what the hell? His mama could have told anyone he didn’t always adhere to the cautious side. “What happened to make you so afraid?”

The little car swerved in the lane, and she tossed him a shocked look before she shook her head. “No. I cannot talk about that with you yet.”

That small “yet” gave him hope, even though her voice cracked over it.

“Okay.” He nodded and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing.” She flexed her fingers once more. “There isn’t anything you can do.”

He hated that small, broken tone. Damn it all, he wanted to fix everything for her, and didn’t that just go to show how far in over his head he really was. He didn’t know what to say to that either, and silence hovered over them for the rest of the drive.

Chapter Eight

Emmett’s phone rang while he was compiling a shift report. He lifted the rectangle to find his mother’s number illuminated on the display. “Hey, Mama.”

“Hello, my sweet boy.” His mama’s customary affectionate greeting washed over him, and he leaned back in the chair.

“What’s up?”

“I drove up to Tallahassee to see your sister for a few days, and I thought I’d take you to dinner tonight if you didn’t already have plans.”

He frowned, tapping a thumb on the arm of his chair. Savannah and he had loose plans for after work, a habit they’d gotten into over the past couple of days, but this was his mama. Surely Savannah would understand.

Besides, he needed his mother’s help with a couple of missions.

“I was going to grab a bite with a friend, but I can reschedule.” He rubbed his jaw. “Mama, if I needed a suit before the weekend, where should I go?”

“Feldman’s in Moultrie,” she replied without hesitation. “What do you need a suit for?”

“A friend’s baby’s baptism. And am I supposed to take a gift for that?”

“Emmett Isaiah, did you not pay attention to anything I taught you?” Exasperation and fondness warred in her voice. “Yes, you are supposed to take a gift for that. Feldman’s is open until nine, and I’m pretty sure Market on the Square is until around eight. We can run over to Moultrie, take care of your suit and gift, then have dinner on the square. I’ll see you around five.”

“Yes, ma’am.” With a smile, he told her he loved her and ended the call. He rotated the phone in his hand. Text or call Savannah?

If he called, he’d get a chance to listen to her voice, even if it was only on her voicemail message. She picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I can’t do dinner tonight.”

“Okay. Are you working late?”

Was that a hint of disappointment in her voice? The possibility warmed him. “No, my mama called and is on her way up. She wants to see me.”

“I understand. I’ll go over to Rob and Amy’s, and maybe we can get together tomorrow night. Plus, there’s that fundraiser this weekend. We’re still doing that together, right?”

“Yeah.” He frowned. Something was off in her tone. “You’re sure this is okay?”

“Of course. Go see your mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Savannah—”

“Hey, I’ve got to go. The ambulance is headed into the bay.” She sounded harried. “Call me tomorrow. Bye.”

The call dropped and he stared at the phone. Man, he didn’t know what to make of her sometimes, and this was definitely one of those moments. He ran a hand through his hair. Surely, going to dinner with his mama couldn’t come back to bite him on the ass.

* * * * *

Plastic bag bearing a quart each of chicken salad, pimiento cheese, and the Bistro’s incredible pasta salad looped over her wrist, Savannah let herself into Amy and Rob’s side door. She stowed the bag in the refrigerator and paused, listening to the silent house. She really wanted to announce herself, but that silence might mean Hamilton was asleep.

And if the house was silent because Hamilton was asleep, that could mean a couple of things—Rob and Amy were taking advantage of that to catch a nap.

Or they were taking advantage of that to engage in other more amorous activities, which weren’t always limited to their bedroom. Savannah seriously didn’t want to walk in on that.

Babies complicated everything.

She plopped her leather bag on the counter and pulled her phone from her pocket to tap out a text.
In the kitchen. Where r u?

Nursery.

Okay, so she probably didn’t need to worry about walking into anything, er, sticky there. She walked through the dining and living rooms and down the hall to the small bedroom adjacent to Amy and Rob’s. Over the last five days, Amy had transformed the space into a simple, elegant nursery in white with hints of pale pink. Her sister had been scrupulous about buying only essentials, so baby clutter wasn’t taking over the house or this room.

Amy sat cross-legged on the floor by the dresser, folding and putting away impossibly small clothes. Savannah peeked into the crib at a sleeping Hamilton, clad in a lilac sleeper. “Hey.”

“You don’t have to whisper.” Amy shot her a cheeky grin. “We figured out two days ago you can have a conversation in a normal tone around her when she’s sleeping and she snoozes right through it.”

“Where’s Rob?”

“In the office, reading forensics reports. He’s still obsessed with this sniper case.” Amy slid the drawer shut and rose. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans with Emmett.”

“I did.” The ridiculous pique that had been nudging her all day lifted its head again. “He’s having dinner with his mom.”