All I Need (Hearts of the South) (24 page)

Acquiescing was easier than arguing. She stood to Amy’s left, next to their grandmother, completely messing up the numbers. “Amy, this is ridiculous.”

“Savannah, hush and smile.” Grandmother gently pinched her waist. “If you need a reason to smile, look over there at those four young men in well-cut suits.”

Jen laughed, camera in one hand, the other curved over her very pregnant belly. “Gran.”

“I’m older, dear, not blind or dead. Any woman can appreciate a man who makes a suit look good.”

Savannah ignored the banter, finally able to breathe again. Making a trim, basic black suit look better than good, Emmett stood on the far side of the expansive yard with Clark, Troy Lee, and Rob. Hands in his pockets, he was the only one of the four not laughing, but a slight smile played about his mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so glad to see someone. Nerves, a blend of anticipation and remembered desire, trembled in her abdomen.

Jen clicked off a rapid series of shots, camera whirring, and Savannah frowned at her. With a helpless shrug, Jen waved a hand in the air. “I couldn’t resist. You had the most sublime look on your face just then.”

“I love it.” Amy grinned at her, almost vibrating with excitement, and Savannah found herself the center of affectionately curious attention from her female relatives.

“Amy, please.” She fiddled with one pearl stud, a nervous gesture she would never have succumbed to during her pageant days.

“I’m assuming one of them is the young man who had you in such a tizzy the last time you were here,” her grandmother said dryly. “Which one is he, Amy?”

Savannah didn’t even bother not to roll her eyes. Let Jen take a photo of that.

“The black suit.”

Grandmother smiled. “Oh, my.”

Her mother wrapped an arm around Savannah’s waist. “I’m glad he came with you, darling.”

“Me too.” Not that he’d actually come with her, but still…he was here. As she watched, Rob gestured in their direction, waved toward the house, and detached himself from the group to speak to an approaching college friend. The other three walked to the front door, a cheerful conversation passing between Clark and Troy Lee before they disappeared in the house.

Disappointment blended with an odd foreboding. He hadn’t even looked at her.

She smiled through a myriad of family photos, then went in search of him. She found him on the back patio, he and Clark engaged in a casual conversation with her father. Her stomach plunged.

“…work with Rob, sir.” Emmett glanced down as she stopped at his side. “Savannah and I live in the same apartment complex as well.”

“What’s your role with the department?”

“Currently, I serve as administrative support to the chief investigator.”

Her father nodded. “Paperwork, then.”

“Yes, sir. Lots of paperwork.”

Savannah bristled at the reduction of what she knew he actually did to mere pushing of paper.

“And what do you do, son?” Her father gestured at Clark with his glass. “Are you in law enforcement as well?”

A wide grin creased Clark’s face. “I’m the best paramedic in Chandler County, sir.”

Emmett made a disgusted sound in this throat. “Most arrogant paramedic is more like it.”

“I saved your sorry life, remember?”

Hands tucked in his pockets, Emmett rocked back on his heels. “The way I recall things, you were yelling at Mackey not to let me die because then you wouldn’t have anyone to sing with.”

“Dude, you were basically bleeding out and in V-fib. You can’t remember that.”

“Trust me, I do.”

The lightness grated on her nerves. She wanted to pull Emmett away somewhere private, get at what seemed to be off with him, and the three men wanted to indulge in chitchat.

With an amused chuckle, her father lifted an eyebrow. “Musicians as well, then. Savannah, perhaps we should show them your piano. They might actually appreciate it.”

Clark’s eyes took on a gleam. “You play the piano?”

“No. I know
how
to play, but I don’t play.” She patted her father’s arm. “Someone forced me to take thirteen years of lessons.”

“I can relate.”

“She sings as well.” The same old pride swelled her father’s voice.

“You sing?” Clark quirked a brow.

“No.”

“How do you live without music?” Clark rubbed his palms together. “Show me this piano.”

Her father led the way to the living room, and as Emmett fell into silent step next to Clark and waved her ahead of them, she had little choice but to comply. Maybe he was nervous here, but this was ridiculous. Her unease flared into irritation and the beginnings of a stormy mood.

Inside, Clark stared at the gleaming instrument. He shifted his gaze to her, mouth open.

“Woman, what is wrong with you? You have an antique Mason & Hamlin, and you don’t play it? That’s like having a Maserati in the garage and refusing to drive it because someone made you take driver’s ed.” He turned to her father. “Can I play it?”

“Go ahead. I keep it in tune, just in case.” He settled into his favorite chair. “It’s been too long since there was music in this house.”

Clark took the bench and rippled his fingers across the keys with a reverent touch. The rich notes filled the room. “My God, it’s like a musical orgasm.”

He coaxed Canon in D from the instrument, and the gorgeous sounds attracted people to the room. Amy sat in the other plush chair, and Rob propped on the arm, Hamilton nestled in his strong hold. Her mother, grandmother, and cousins took the couch. Savannah remained standing in front of Emmett, Troy Lee stopping at his side.

Clark drew the piece to a close. He nodded at Emmett. “Hey, Em, come sing with me.”

She sensed his slight hesitation, but Troy Lee’s hand at his shoulder prodded him forward. He assumed a falsely relaxed posture, hands in his pockets as he approached the piano to sit next to his friend.

Clark chuckled. “If you’ll play, he’ll sing.”

She wouldn’t even begin to know what to play. Clark rolled out the first notes of the gorgeous ballad from the night before, but Emmett shook his head. “No, not that one. Pick something else.”

The melody Clark chose was edgier, with a more aggressive pulse to it, and eyes closed, Emmett sang of darkness and isolation, of hiding and hurting. The lyrics pulled a raw power from his voice, and her throat ached, the room narrowing to only the two of them and the music.

Rather than ending the piece, Clark segued into a subdued, slow praise song, and Emmett followed without missing a beat. The change in tune and topic lightened the tension on his face, relaxing his expression, although his eyes remained closed.

As the notes faded away, Clark caressed the piano top. “I want to take it home with me.”

Opening his eyes on a chuckle, Emmett slanted a grin at him. “You aren’t right.”

Her father thanked them, and light conversation hovered over those gathered in the room. Frustration tightened her chest again, mingling with the slight panic. All she wanted was a few minutes alone with him, and he appeared perfectly content to remain where he was, chatting with Clark and Rob, her father occasionally joining in.

As her cousins drifted away, her grandmother motioned her near and took her hand, settling Savannah next to her on the sofa. Grandmother stroked her hair with the gentle touch she remembered from childhood, and she rested her head against the older woman’s shoulder, letting the repetitive caress ease away the stress. The drone of conversation around her, she allowed her lashes to fall. The weariness seemed overwhelming.

When she woke, late-afternoon sunlight colored the room. The house sat quiet and peaceful around her, and she blinked, disoriented. A cashmere throw covered her, and the wool-clad male thigh under her cheek was a far cry from her grandmother’s shoulder. She was intimately acquainted with the muscles of that leg, and she knew beneath the smooth fabric, right under her cheek, ran a long, thin surgical scar next to the ragged mark of a gunshot entry wound.

With a gentle finger, he tucked her hair behind her ear and laid aside a book, one of her father’s myriad biographies. She sat up, trying to smooth the wrinkles from her dress. “How long have I been asleep?”

He rotated his wrist to check his watch. “About an hour and a half.”

“What?” Horrified, she grabbed his arm to see for herself. She covered her eyes with one hand. “Oh, my God, I will never live this down.”

“There’s nothing to live down. You work hard, we didn’t get a lot of sleep last night—not that anyone here knows that but us and Clark—and your grandma put you out faster than Bennett does that baby. If it were a problem, I’m pretty sure someone would have woken you up.”

She wasn’t sure which was worse—sleeping through a family event, realizing Clark Dempsey knew the details of her sex life, or waking up with her head in Emmett’s lap when he’d barely said two words to her all day.

With her luck, Jen had captured that for posterity, as well.

“You don’t understand.” She pulled the throw over her legs and tucked her feet under her. Where were her shoes? “Have you met my father? There are expectations for how one is to conduct oneself—”

“Your dad loves you and is proud of you. Anybody can see that.” He shook his head. “That’s huge and it trumps possibly violating some family code of conduct.”

Why were they even discussing this? What she really wanted to know was why he’d been so removed all day. She frowned. “Are you regretting last night?”

“Last night was amazing. I’d never regret being with you like that.” Voice lowered, he tossed a look over his shoulder at the hallway to the dining room. “Today I needed to think through some things.”

“And you couldn’t do that on the way over with me?”

“No.” A half-smile hitched up one corner of his mouth. “You tend to interfere with my ability to think straight. Besides, Clark’s pretty good at helping me see the big picture. ”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you tell him everything?”

“Not…everything.” He chuckled and laid his arm along the back of the couch. “But most things, yeah. It’s mutual, though. Think of it like you talking to your sister.”

“My sister does not know we’re sleeping together.”

“Considering how she’s been looking at me all day like she knows what Santa brought you for Christmas, I think she’s a good guesser.” He leaned in, mouth close to hers. “Her and your grandma both.”

Impossibly glad to have him nearer to normal, she closed the distance between them. Against her mouth, his lips were warm and pliable, and she curled her hand around his nape, holding him to her. He lifted a hand to cup her shoulder, fingers sliding along the bare skin of her upper arm.

“Savannah,” he murmured against her mouth, “I don’t think I want your dad to catch us making out on the couch.”

“Where is everyone?” She dropped her face into the curve of his neck and inhaled the mingling of aftershave, starch, and his unique maleness. She slipped one hand inside his jacket to rest below his ribs. “If he’s retreated to his study, we’re probably safe from getting caught.”

“Your mom, sister, and grandmother are in the dining room with Bennett, opening gifts, I think. Clark bailed on me and left when Troy Lee did, so apparently you have to drive me home.” He rested his cheek against her hair and moved his fingers down her arm in a slow caress. “Your dad disappeared down the hall earlier after everyone left.”

“Definitely hiding in his study. He can only socialize for so long.” She pulled back to look into his eyes and slid her hand up and down his side, seeking the ticklish spot between his ribs. “So we’re safe.”

“Behave.” He caught her hand with his, a hint of laughter lighting his eyes. “We’re not doing this the very first time I’ve been in your parents’ house.”

“I guess we should go
ooh
and
aah
over baby gifts.”

“You sound awful enthused about that.”

“Oh, Hamilton’s great, and I’m thrilled for Amy and Rob, but I don’t get the appeal.” She shook her head. Becoming parents had been the one place she and Gates had differed, and finally they’d agreed to table the topic until they’d been married a couple of years. “I am never having children.”

“We’re in agreement there. I can pass on eighteen years of being afraid I’ll screw someone up for life.”

“So you weren’t joking last night about having had a vasectomy?”

“No. I had it done last year, about a month before the shooting.” An irritable frown drew his brows together. “You would not believe how long it took me to convince the urologist I was serious and wasn’t going to change my mind later. He kept trying to tell me I’d find some young woman, settle down, and regret having it done. Not happening. I am not cut out to be anybody’s dad, and I know it.”

The raw honesty had to be one of the sexiest things she’d ever experienced. She smiled and leaned into him. “You realize this conversation makes me want to do way more than make out with you on this couch.”

He kissed her, hard, and rose. He extended a hand. “Later, when we get home. Right now, let’s go
ooh
and
aah
over baby stuff we don’t get.”