All I Need (Hearts of the South) (36 page)

“Hey, don’t.” He moved to wrap his arms around her and stopped on a low groan. “Ow.”

With a pained laugh, he embraced her anyway. Savannah buried her face in the curve of his shoulder and wound her arms about his neck. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I know. You have no idea how thankful I am for that.” He rubbed his cheek on her hair. “I love you, Savannah.”

The damned tears spilled over. Beyond words, she took his face in her hands and pressed her mouth to his. He was here, and for now, he was hers.

Chapter Eighteen

She loved him. After what he’d seen in her face the night before, Emmett was sure of it, and while he wanted to hold that knowledge close, hang on to how it warmed him, bask in the way she looked at him, at the same time, the knowledge scared him shitless.

He uploaded training modules and pushed them out via the online training program. She said she wouldn’t leave him, but that was now, when she thought… Hell, who knew what she thought? What if she figured out how she felt? Fuck, she’d be gone so fast…

The idea twisted his stomach and made him want to vomit.

He wanted it so damn bad,
wanted
her to love him with a visceral ache. And he never wanted her to see it, because while she could live with a little fear about his physical well-being, he didn’t think she could do the fear over her own emotional well-being.

Wonder if he could get her to do fifty more years of doing today? Maybe by then, she’d be over the need to self-protect.

He could live without the words.

He could.

Words didn’t matter a damn anyway. He knew that better than most. She only had to keep looking at him like she did and stay with him, and he’d have everything he needed.

Damn it, he had to expend some of this, somehow. He glanced at his watch. Technically, he could go to lunch, but the idea of eating, as keyed up as he was? Nope. Not happening. However, he could spend some time in the training room with the heavy bag and then shower and change.

In the training room, he stripped his polo and undershirt over his head, torso screaming, and dropped them on a bench. He toed out of his shoes and set them aside. He put his earbuds in, cranked up Imagine Dragons, and attacked the bag with a punishing rhythm that elevated his heartbeat and made his knuckles sting. Every punch sent agony through the bruised areas of his back, but he could handle a little hurt.

Sweat dripped down his face and chest.

He could do this. He really could.

God,
please
, let her not figure this out
.

He could do physical hurt, he could do being second best, he could do never hearing her say what he meant.

He couldn’t do her leaving him. That would have him on his knees.

“Man, are you crazy?” Troy Lee pulled the earbuds from his ears and made a grab for the bag. “Are you supposed to be doing this?”

Chest heaving with exertion, Emmett shrugged. His back ached, but the burn in his arms made up for it. “Mackey said no road duty and no major physical activity. He didn’t say I couldn’t work out a little.”

“In the middle of the day? At work?” Troy Lee looked at him askance. “What is wrong with you?”

Emmett swiped sweat from his brow and shrugged again. The thoughts in his head were too scary, too private, to share.

Frowning, Troy Lee eyed him for a long moment. “Screwed up from yesterday?”

“No.” Emmett scowled.

“It’s normal if you are.”

“It’s not…” Maybe it was easier to let Troy Lee think the shooting incident was bothering him. No way Emmett could articulate this right now, but Troy Lee was unshakeable when he thought a friend needed help. Normally, Emmett appreciated the hell out of that trait, but not today. “I’ll be okay.”

After one more searching look, Troy Lee nodded. He rested his hands at his gun belt. “Listen, you know anything about that school-resource officer position Calvert posted yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Emmett leaned down for his water bottle and took a swig. Hell, he’d written the job description and posted it for Calvert before going out on duty with Walker. “It’s mostly with the middle and elementary schools, delivering drug education, being a positive mentor on campus, supervising the schools’ dad mentor programs. Why?”

Troy Lee glanced away. A muscle flicked in his jaw. “I think I’m going to put in for it.”

“You’re kidding.” Troy Lee, off the road and walking school hallways every day? “What the hell?”

“Yesterday… Angel is all shaken up by that. She’s my wife and the mother of my children, man. She’s pregnant and upset, and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make her feel secure.” Troy Lee blew out an audible breath. “If I come off the road, I come off the road.”

If it came down to riding a desk permanently to keep Savannah secure, Emmett would do the same thing. “I get that.”

One corner of Troy Lee’s mouth lifted in a ghost of his customary grin. “I figured you would.”

Emmett glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to shower and get back in the office. Post for the job and I’ll forward it to Calvert.”

“Thanks.” Troy Lee frowned at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Not really.” He settled for partial honesty. “But I will be.”

* * * * *

Savannah woke alone, wrapped in sheets that bore Emmett’s clean scent. Her awareness was foggy and dense, much like the mist wrapped around the pine trees lining the river. With the ER slammed, she’d pulled a double shift, and when she’d arrived home well after one in the morning, he’d already been in bed, asleep with one of his grad-school leadership texts splayed across his chest. Exhausted, she’d grabbed a five-minute shower, laid the book aside, and crawled in next to him.

She didn’t like waking up without him, without his arm across her waist and his thighs under hers. She’d gotten addicted to the smell and feel of him.

Sheet clutched to her chest, she sat up. The house lay quiet around her, with none of his usual music-streaming reaching her ears. The rich scent of coffee lingered in the air, so he probably wasn’t far away.

This
need
for him was crazy. A holdover from earlier in the week, those awful hours when she’d had to worry about him. She didn’t need him in order to do every day, but she
needed
him.

Maybe instead of “I think I love you,” she should have said, “I need you” the other morning. It was more accurate, made more sense, and didn’t scare the hell out of her. She pushed the sheets aside and swung out of bed.

The house was indeed empty, his phone and wallet gone, but the truck in the drive next to her car. The coffee pot was full, thanks to its preprogramming. She poured a cup and took it out to the back deck. A hint of coolness touched the air, and with her robe tucked around her, she curled into one of the Adirondack chairs. Birds chattered to life in the trees, and the heavy murmur of the river carried up the bank. She sipped at her coffee and soaked in the stillness, the sense of home.

Footsteps thudded on the side stairs, and she smiled into her mug. That had to be the other half of home. Sure enough, the French door behind her swung open moments later.

“Hey.” He leaned over the back of the chair, enveloping her in scents of morning mist, pine, and sweat as he kissed her. His skin was damp under her touch, and his hair stuck out from his head in crazy spikes.

“Have you been running?” If so, she was going to kill him. The key idea was to rest until those bruises healed. She held on to his nape with one hand, wanting to keep him near.

“Biking with Clark.” He made a disparaging noise in his throat and kissed her again. “He doesn’t run unless something is chasing him.”

She released him without comment. At least it was low-impact exercise, and the bruises were slowly healing, turning to shades of darker purple and yellowing at the edges. Besides, keeping him completely contained appeared an impossible task; it seemed he’d saved up months of energy from his recuperation. He dropped into the chair next to hers and reached for her mug to take a sip. She hugged the sweet normalcy of the moment to her.

Pulling one knee to her chest, she trailed her finger along his wrist. “So if you’re up for biking, I assume that means you’re up for tailgating at Rob and Amy’s this afternoon?”

“It’s Georgia-Auburn weekend. Of course I’m up for it, even though we’re going to lose.” He frowned, brows drawing together and forehead wrinkling. “How obnoxious is Bennett when Auburn wins?”

She laughed. “Not very because he wins either way.”

Emmett’s frown deepened. “What?”

“They make sex bets on the game.”

His mouth parted. “That is brilliant. There’s only one problem.”

She smiled. “We root for the same team.”

“Yeah.” He rotated his wrist under her hand to link their fingers. “Give me some time to think about it and I’ll figure out a way to make it work for us.”

“Go for it.” She aligned her palm to his, enjoying the warmth. She loved the light teasing, but beneath, she still sensed hints of the insecurity he’d brought home with him the night of the shooting. He loved her, she needed him, they were basically living together…and somehow it wasn’t enough to make him trust her. She didn’t know how to give him what he needed.

So she avoided the hell out of confronting the disconnect, out of fear that doing so would break the fragile bonds between them. She didn’t want to lose him.

“What’s on your agenda for the day?” She rubbed her fingertips over his knuckles.

“Locking myself in the office and finishing that leadership paper so I can go tailgating with you later. Sorry, babe, but I have to get it done so I can run it through the writing center before it’s due.”

“No problem. I understand completely, believe me. Amy says they didn’t see me for days when I was studying for boards.”

The day passed quietly. He did indeed closet himself in the office, emerging only to grab a sandwich at lunch. Savannah caught up on several loads of laundry, read a handful of journal articles, and dozed through an action movie.

The roar of an enraged alien startled her from light slumber. She blinked at the television and fingered the edge of the warm throw draped over her shoulders. She smiled—Emmett had obviously emerged at some point to cover her while she napped. From the office behind her, he sang along quietly with Sidewalk Prophets, accompanied by the hushed clicking of his laptop keyboard.

This was the kind of Saturday she wanted forever, simply doing ordinary life and being wrapped up in the security of his loving her.

She sat up and stretched. His crooning grew closer, and he appeared from the office, empty tumbler in hand. He smiled. “Hey, you’re awake. Want something to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.” She watched him walk into the kitchen, the music and warmth of his presence wrapping around her in a swirl of long-forgotten happiness. “Are you making progress?”

“One section and the works cited left.” He joined her on the couch and set his half-full tumbler aside. He laid his arm along the back of the sofa and toyed with her hair. “I don’t care if I ever see an APA handbook again.”

She slid her hands under his T-shirt to rest at his waist, beneath the compression bandage. “How’s your back?”

“Sore as hell.” He grimaced. “That’s the only reason I took a break. Needed to move. I did figure out that whole rooting-for-the-same-team issue, though.”

“Really?” She leaned in to press a kiss to his throat. “Do tell.”

He stroked his palm along her outer thigh. “We bet on the point spread.”

“That works.” She laughed into the curve of his shoulder. They were so good together, and he made it so easy to love him that she—

She stilled and pulled back so she could see his eyes. He stiffened, his own gaze shuttering at whatever he saw in her face. That lost expression, the tension invading his body as if preparing for a blow, broke her heart.

“Em.” His name fell from her lips on a shattered whisper.

“Savannah.” A hint of desperation shook his voice. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

God, she’d been so selfish. She’d refused to see that what he needed and she refused to give him was the very thing she was taking from him. Instead, she’d let him love her while she’d clung to the ridiculous false safety of wanting and needing, all the while pretending that he wasn’t the love in the new life she’d made with him.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, taking his face in her hands. “I love you, Emmett.”

“I know.” He cringed, a pained groan strangling in his throat, and closed his eyes. “I saw it in your face the night of the shooting.”

And he thought it was the end, that this meant she would run out on him once she realized that love herself. He believed she would choose protecting herself before she chose him. Her loving him looked more like a curse than a gift to him, and she had no one to blame for that but herself.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She smoothed her fingers down his jaw. “Em, please, let me love you.”

His lashes lifted, revealing confusion and fear lingering in his blue eyes.