All I Need (Hearts of the South) (6 page)

“Beck.” Calvert’s deep voice pulled him from the musings.

He straightened. “Yes, sir.”

“Come on down to my office.”

He followed the older man along the hall and took the chair Calvert indicated in front of the desk. Calvert shifted a stack of papers to a basket and rested his clasped hands on the blotter. “I can’t offer you the jail administrator’s position.”

Damn. Disappointment slammed into his chest, and he nodded. “I understand.”

“And I can’t give you the title of chief deputy because you can’t fulfill the roadwork requirement yet.”

Chief deputy? Hell, he hadn’t even known that was a possibility. A spark of anger spurted under his skin and heated his neck. Nice of Calvert to rub his face in what he wasn’t qualified for. The disappointment was huge. Apparently, he’d wanted this more than he’d thought.

“But I can offer you a non-road lieutenant’s position. You’d be working directly under me, assuming administrative duties—”

“Sir?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard all that correctly, with anger and frustration pounding in his ears.

Calvert’s mouth twitched with a slight smile. “Lieutenant’s rank, basically eight to five, no road duty, unless at some point you’re cleared for it. Chief Singleton speaks highly of your skills there, so if road work becomes a likelihood, we definitely want you in a patrol car too. Maybe half-administrative, half-road then. For now, you’ll be in charge of scheduling, maintaining reports, submitting payroll—”

“You’re offering me a job.” A breath he hadn’t known he was holding whooshed out. “A lieutenant’s job.”

“I’m trying to, if you’re interested.”

“Yes, sir.” He swallowed hard and straightened in the chair, attempting to get his scattered thoughts under control. “I mean, I’m definitely interested.”

“Great.” Calvert rubbed a hand over his mouth, and Emmett got the impression he was hiding a full-fledged grin. “We’ll let you fill out some paperwork, and then we’ll go over your duties, decide on a start date, like maybe tomorrow, but more likely Monday. I’m drowning here.”

An hour and a half later, Emmett emerged into a fall day so bright and beautiful it hurt. In his truck, he laid the sheaf of paperwork aside and tugged his phone from his pocket. He scrolled halfway through his contacts before realizing he’d gone past Troy Lee’s and Clark’s numbers and straight to Savannah’s.

He paused. What was he doing? They didn’t have that kind of thing going on. They weren’t about sharing triumph and anticipation. Shoot, he still wasn’t quite sure what they were about.

Ah, hell. He had to tell
someone
. He swiped his finger across to dial her number and waited.

Chapter Three

In her car, with the AC dispelling the heated stuffiness, Savannah stared at the missed call and voicemail icon on her phone screen. The manners drilled into her by her mother warred with self-protection. She
really
should call Emmett back, especially since she’d been free when he’d called and had simply silenced the phone rather than answer.

The emotional disconnect of a text reply lured with a siren’s call.

She slumped in the seat and swiped to unlock the screen. None of it—the admiration in his eyes, the electricity that sparked out from his gentle touch, the dreams that had followed in the night—was his fault, not really. He was simply being himself.

All the issues belonged to her.

She brought up the voicemail screen and his easy tenor filled the air around her. “Hey, Savannah, it’s Emmett. I got a job offer and wanted to… Well, I thought I’d see if you wanted to get a bite to eat. Sorry I missed you. Give me a call when you get a chance.”

Her eyes burned a little, and she blinked hard, then brushed a finger under her lashes. Damn it, he was sexy and smart and funny and everything she didn’t want or need.

And this was ridiculous. She was bad as Rob had been, sinking deeper into isolation, and she didn’t intend to let that happen. Before she could think better of it, she pressed
call
and lifted the phone to her ear.

He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Emmett, hi. It’s Savannah.” Her voice emerged more breathless than she liked. She swallowed. “I got your message and was returning your call. Congratulations on the job.”

“Thanks.” His deep chuckle tickled her ear. “It’s actually a different position than the one I interviewed for, but I’m kind of excited about it.”

“That’s great.” She let the silence stretch, her gaze on the couple—a nurse and one of the local cops—sitting close together on the bench near the hospital chatting.

He cleared his throat. “So did you maybe want to grab something for dinner?”

“I can’t tonight, actually. I have plans with my sister.” Who would be totally okay if Savannah brought Emmett over for dinner, but she wasn’t even entertaining that thought. She was keeping him completely separate from her personal life. “Maybe another night?”

“Sounds good.” Was that a small note of disappointment in his voice? “Text me and let me know.”

“I will. Good night.” She ended the call and dropped the phone in her purse. She passed a hand over her eyes. Yes, distance was definitely called for.

The drive to her sister’s home took mere minutes. She parked behind Amy’s little BMW and walked to the side door. A few moments after her knock, Amy swung the door open. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Savannah arched a brow. Her sister’s cheeks were pink-tinged, hair a little damp. Clad in yoga pants and a slim T-shirt, Amy was freshly showered.

And maybe freshly something else as well, Savannah thought as she followed her sister through the small laundry room. Envy clutched at her. She missed that aspect of life. Maybe with Emmett, as long as all the messy emotions that usually came with sex stayed out of the picture.

In the airy kitchen with its tall windows, Rob whisked up a marinade. He had that fresh-from-the-shower, just-out-of-bed look too. Savannah’s mood darkened further. She
hated
this.

Damn if she’d let emotion ruin her night. She slung her bag on a stool and pinned on a bright smile. She had time with her two favorite people. That was enough.

“Hey.” Rob poured the mixture into a Ziploc bag of steak. “How’d your non-date go?”

Amy’s eyes lit up, and her head turned faster than Linda Blair’s in
The Exorcist
. “You had a date?”

Robert smirked. Savannah was going to kill him.

“A non-date,” she corrected. She perched on a stool at the island and lifted a slice of cheese from the board there. “A movie and pizza with the guy next door.”

“The one who makes you think of sex?” Amy’s glee brightened the whole room. Savannah suppressed a groan. There was no stopping her sister when she got going.

You’re a dead man
, Savannah mouthed at her brother-in-law, the brother she’d never had.

Payback
, he returned silently. He licked the tip of a finger and tallied a point in the air.

It was impossible not to love him, even when she wanted to strangle him. At least Amy had made up for not being the little brother Savannah had wanted by marrying this one.

“Do non-dates involve sex?” Rob stowed the bag in the refrigerator and checked his watch. He propped against the counter and folded his arms over his chest.

“No.” It wasn’t technically a lie, because nothing had happened beyond that hot-as-hell kiss.

“So you’re non-dating and non-sexing the guy who makes you think about sex,” Rob drawled. He and Amy exchanged a pointed look. Savannah decided to ignore them.

“That’s right.”

“Why not just date him?”

“Neither of us is interested in that.” Well, this was a nice minefield to be trapped in. Her intentions to enjoy the night evaporated. Hell, the only way this could be any more uncomfortable would be if she’d brought Emmett with her. “I don’t want to get wrapped up in anyone the way I was with Gates, which is impossible anyway because no one else
is
Gates.”

Amy’s generous mouth twisted, her eyes sad. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I’m not.” Savannah injected a healthy dose of sarcasm into her voice. “I have the two of you.”

“Does this arrangement—the non-dating—make you happy?” The quiet question came from Rob. He watched her with eyes that didn’t miss a thing.

Happy wasn’t in her vocabulary any longer, but the arrangement would help her fulfill some basic needs and get out of the funk she’d been in for months. Besides, it would let her accomplish both on her own terms. “Yes.”

He nodded then slanted a pointed look at her. “You don’t look rested.”

Sheesh. Help a guy through depression, and it opened up all kinds of questions.

“I didn’t sleep well. I kept having those dreams.” She didn’t have to explain. Both of them would know what she meant by “those” dreams. The ones in which Gates came to her, sitting on the edge of her bed, his face and body whole in the blood-spattered uniform. He came only to tell her it was okay and that he had to go and then left her to wake with tears on her face.

She hated them.

“I’m sorry.” Genuine regret lingered in Rob’s voice.

She shrugged. “Part of the grieving process. Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course.” Amy wrapped an arm about her shoulders in a quick hug. “I have our new adoption-profile book. Want to take a look?”

“Why not?” Savannah accepted the glass of ice water Rob proffered as her sister bustled out of the room. She met Rob’s gaze. “Any prospects?”

With a grimace, he shrugged. “We had one serious inquiry, but she decided she didn’t like both of us being in law enforcement. I can understand that.”

“How did Amy take it?” Her sister hadn’t said anything, and that was unusual. Amy usually told her more than she wanted to know.

“She was okay.” A smile hitched up the corners of his mouth. “We talked about it, and if for some reason, it never happens, we’ll be good. We have each other.”

“And me.” She lifted her glass. “Don’t forget about me.”

He laughed. “And you. We definitely have you.”

“You say that like it’s a hardship.”

“You have your moments.”

She let that one pass, only because of the affection in his voice. “Any idea on a timeline?”

“You never know.” He gripped the countertop with both hands. “It could be another year or it could be tomorrow. We’ve done everything on our end. Now we just wait.”

“You have your own page.” Amy breezed in with a thin, glossy book in hand. She opened it on the island and pointed. “Look.”

The page, entitled
Aunt Savannah
, featured a handful of photos—her physician’s biography headshot, a casual image of her and Amy under the weeping willow at their parents, another of Rob sitting between her and Amy on the couch, all of them in their game-day apparel and sporting wide grins. A short description covered her career choice, her close relationship with Amy and Rob, and her qualifications for being a doting aunt.

“That’s great.” She smiled and flipped to the beginning to peruse the pictorial representation of Amy and Rob’s life together—wedding photos, casual shots at home, the beach, the local zoo. Their devotion and commitment glowed from the pages. Rob was right—if no one ever selected them as adoptive parents, they would be happy and fulfilled in one another.

God, she missed that too.

Not enough that she ever wanted to commit to anyone again, though.

“So what is he like, this neighbor of yours?”

Savannah flipped a page with elaborate casualness. “Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk about it?”

“No.” Amy nudged her shoulder with her own. “You said you didn’t want to talk about the dreams.”

Behind them, Rob snorted.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about him either.” She closed the book and extended it to her sister. She glanced over her shoulder at Rob, taking a swig of water from his glass. “Hey, Robert, did I tell you about the journal article I read last week about sperm mapping in infertile men? It involves aspirating your testicles with a needle.”

He choked so hard water spurted from his nose, and Savannah smiled as he bent over the sink, coughing.

“Savannah. Really.” Amy moved the book to the counter that held her cookbook collection. She paused a moment, frowning. “Is that for real? Should we do some research?”

Rob groaned and glared at Savannah. “What did I ever do to you?”

Savannah saluted him with her glass. “Not a damn thing other than make it too easy.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“Of course I am.” She shrugged. “You both should know that if I don’t want to talk about something, I’m not going to.”

And as much as she loved both of them, talking about her nonexistent relationship with Emmett Beck was not going to happen.

* * * * *