All I Need
by Linda Winfree
Copyright © 2017 by Linda Winfree. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
Damn, he hurt tonight. The ache twisted and snarled in his thigh, as though an unseen hand tied the muscles themselves into knots. The incision line itself itched with sharp twinges of intermittent pain. The discomfort made him restless, and he retreated to the back patio to throw punches at the heavy bag until the injured leg refused to hold him any longer. Then he dragged himself to the shower and stood under cool water, rinsing away the sweat and wishing the pain and the memories could be washed away so easily.
Afterward, he knocked back a couple more ibuprofen—stomach damage be damned—and took a cold longneck out to the front stoop, to sit in the Adirondack chair by his front door and wait in vain for the pain to simply go away. At least weariness tugged at him, and maybe he’d be able to catch a decent night’s sleep.
Head tilted back, he spun the bottle in slow circles on the chair arm and eyed the moths bumping and jostling around the dim ceiling light. Muted laughter, maybe canned sitcom revelry, drifted from the apartment upstairs. In the distance, a siren wailed, and he tensed before he remembered that when the leg cramped like tonight, tightening the muscles only made things worse.
Headlights flashed across the complex, and a sporty Mercedes purred into the lot. Security lighting gleamed off black paint as the luxury car came to a stop in the parking spot next to his. The bottle made another slow revolution. Must be the new neighbor he’d heard coming and going the past couple of days.
This is what his life had become—a new neighbor with whom he’d never pass more than a couple of words was the major excitement of his days.
On a smile, he sipped at the beer. Maybe his buddies were right—he needed to get out more.
The interior light flashed when the car door opened, illuminating glossy brown hair in a messy knot. The brunette stepped from the car and slung a leather tote over her shoulder. Dark blue medical scrubs skimmed over her tall frame, broad-shouldered and curvy. The car door closed and alarm set, she turned toward the apartment block.
While unlocking her door, she flashed Emmett a smile. She was a looker—a full mouth set in a slightly square jaw, pert nose, big eyes. “Hi.”
Sultry voice, a little on the husky side. He lifted the bottle in response. “Hey.”
Her front door partially open, she crossed the yards between them to extend a hand. “Savannah Mills. It’s good to meet you.”
“Emmett Beck.” Her hand, nails short and clean of any polish, was cool against his.
She clutched her bag’s strap and waved her other hand toward downtown behind them. “I’m new here and don’t know a lot of people yet. I find it’s valuable to get to know my neighbors. We should grab a beer some time.”
He froze with the bottle halfway to his lips. Wow, she came out of the gate quick. Wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that, but it had been a while and he was a different guy now. He’d learned that lesson really well. He dredged up a facsimile of a smile and concentrated on keeping all the bitterness and anger out of his voice, on producing the most even tone he could muster. The fact his love life—or lack thereof—seemed to be a constant subject of local gossip wasn’t her fault.
“Sorry, honey, but I don’t get out much these days.”
“I understand.” Her friendly smile widened. “Let me know if that changes. Good night.”
She spun on her heel and disappeared inside her apartment. The door closed with a muted snick. He shook his head on a quiet snort and downed the rest of the lukewarm brew. Yeah, he’d blown that for sure. He should have said yes, asked her to join him maybe.
Obviously, his hermit status had caused him to lose his mind.
…
Out of habit, he rose early. He answered a couple of texts from his mama and worked through his daily exercises while coffee brewed, then took a mug and his Kouzes and Posner book out to the Adirondack. This morning, he needed the cane despite—or maybe because of—the exercises. The cane had been in his closet for weeks. His pride smarted a little over dragging it out, but he wasn’t stupid enough to jeopardize his progress. One day, he’d be back in uniform, probably behind a desk, but still—he’d be in uniform again. Maybe one day, he’d actually be back in a patrol car.
Pen at hand, he settled in and opened to the chapter on envisioning the future. Soft splashes drifted from the pool area, where Savannah cut through the water with easy strokes—lazy lap after lap after lap. He returned to reading, letting the quiet sounds—Savannah swimming, birds coming to life in the trees along the street, the occasional car puttering by—soothe him.
On a long sip of strong coffee, he underlined a couple of sentences about defining vision and purpose. The background noise shifted around him, the quiet splashing replaced by the hushed slap of flip-flops on pavement. Keys jingled a merry tune, and chlorine tickled his nose.
He glanced up as the footfalls grew nearer. She was a looker like this, too. Her simple black one-piece hugged generous curves, and her brown eyes sparkled in a face bare of makeup. Although her dark hair was caught up in a loose bun, a few wet strands fell free to frame features flushed from exercise and lit up with a smile. A white towel draped around her neck caught a few stray droplets of water from her skin and hair. The women he was used to dressed for an audience at the pool or the beach and never let their too-cute bikinis get wet, pairing those swimsuits with perfect hair and makeup. Nothing wrong with that, but he liked Savannah’s authenticity and the distinct impression she dressed for herself alone.
He rested the book spine-up on his belly and saluted her with his mug. “Hey.”
“Good morning.” She pushed wet bangs out of her eyes. “A little light reading there?”
“Required for a class I’m taking.” He glanced at the cover and let a grin lift one corner of his mouth. “Actually, it’s not that bad.”
“Grad school?” Her gaze skittered from the book to the cane to his eyes.
“Yeah.” He kept his voice bland and even.
“Well, I’m going to go and let you read.” She gestured toward her door with both hands. “You’ll let me know if anything changes about that beer, right?”
“Sure.” He picked the book up once more. “Have a great day.”
“You too.” With a cheeky grin—and man, that was one cheeky sashay she had as well—she disappeared into her apartment.
Aware he was smiling, he finished the chapter and his coffee. He leaned heavily on the cane and made his way inside. By the time he showered, dressed, and walked out to his truck, the Mercedes was gone. He made a trip to the library to drop off his borrowed books and check out two more biographies, then pulled into the parking lot at his physical therapist’s office and took the spot farthest from the door. Someone needed to be closer more than he did.
In the waiting room, he read a chapter or so about FDR’s early life before Holli called him back. She patted his shoulder as they walked down the hall. “How’s your mama and daddy?”
Somehow he kept a grimace off his face at the mention of his father. “They’re good. Yours?”
“Mama’s doing okay. Daddy’s blood pressure is acting up again.” Holli glanced sideways at him. “I see we’ve got the cane out.”
“First time in weeks.” He rubbed at the muscle above the surgical incision. “The muscles were cramping last night, and the leg felt a little shaky after my morning routine. Didn’t want to chance falling.”
“Smart guy.” Holli graced him with a thousand-watt smile. “I love it when patients follow directions. Come on and let me torture you a while.”
The session proved to be just short of torture—exhausting and painful. Even so, the leg was getting better. He was getting better. Only not the same. That idea took some getting used to, but he was getting there too. He was on his way to letting go the idea of being the same as he’d been.
As he’d expected, Clark Dempsey waited for him in the parking lot. True to his words to Savannah, he didn’t get out much these days, but Troy Lee and Clark forced him to go to lunch with them on his PT days. They’d fallen into an easy routine—Clark had his EMS partner drop him off, he drove them to lunch, then Emmett drove himself home. Today, immense gratitude filled him. He hurt like hell, and letting Clark drive would give him time for the ibuprofen to kick in, time to get over the pain and exertion. Besides, he could be totally real with Clark, who already knew all his weaknesses.
He tossed his keys to Clark. “So what’s on the menu today?”
Clark’s eyes crinkled with his wide smile. “BBQ.”
In the passenger seat, Emmett clicked on his seat belt, closed his eyes, and melted into the seat. Clark let him decompress in silence broken only by Mat Kearney on the radio and the hum of tires on pavement. Minutes later, Clark jockeyed the truck into a shady spot outside the Hickory House. Emmett stretched out his leg, testing the muscles gingerly.
“You good?” Clark asked, hand on the ignition.
A relieved grin pulled at Emmett’s mouth. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
He chose safety and his recovery over pride and took the cane with him. He spotted Troy Lee’s grayish-blue patrol unit in the sea of cars. The line to order stretched to the door, normal for the midday lunch rush. He and Clark chatted with a few acquaintances while they waited. After they ordered, Gail, the restaurant’s proprietor and contender for the county’s biggest gossip, pointed toward the rear of the long, low building.
“Troy Lee got y’all a table in the back room.” She laid a hand on Emmett’s on the counter, a too-sweet smile on her face. “How’s Lacey doing, sweetheart?”
Hell. Like she didn’t know Lacey had bailed on him before he’d even gotten the first set of surgical staples out of his leg. Or that Lacey had started dating one of the service guys over at the Ford place within a couple of weeks of telling Emmett they were done. Not that he could really blame her. They’d only been dating a couple of months when he’d been shot, and back then, all the prognoses had been grimmer than grim. He liked to think he’d have hung in for her in the same circumstances, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d been a heck of a lot shallower then.
He made damn sure his face remained stoic. Anything he said or did was going to make the gossip rounds before two o’clock. He didn’t need anybody calling his mama and getting her upset. “You probably know more than I do, Mrs. Gail. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“I’m sorry, hon.” Gail patted his hand, and his skin crawled. He extricated himself as graciously as he could.
“Good to see you, Mrs. Gail.” He didn’t release his deep breath until he and Clark had cleared the front room.
“Good job.” Clark clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“You know what pisses me off?” He thumped the floor with the cane a little harder than necessary on his next step. “I don’t even care what Lacey’s doing. I don’t really think about her anymore, but they all think I should be heartbroken and pining for her. What is the big deal?”
“Small town. They have to entertain themselves somehow.”
“Maybe they should try reading a damn book.” He scowled. “You know, there is a library downtown.”
Clark choked on a laugh, and Emmett stopped to glower at him.
“What?” He leaned on the cane.
“You. You’re like a crotchety old guy, with your cane and your library rant.” Clark gestured up and down, from Emmett’s feet to his cane to his head. “We should get you a cat or something. I bet there’s a couple hanging around the dumpster out back.”
An unwilling smile crept over his mouth. He’d had a cat, before, and somehow Barkley had ended up being Clark’s cat while Emmett was hospitalized. “Fuck you, man.”
“Hey, there’s Troy Lee and Bennett.” Unperturbed, Clark gestured at the back corner table. Troy Lee, bless him, had commandeered the only table turned sideways in the room so none of them had to sit with their backs to the door. Emmett still couldn’t do it, and he wouldn’t ask anyone else to do it, either.
They exchanged quick greetings while Emmett and Clark settled into the table’s empty seats. Bennett didn’t often join them on these Wednesday lunches, thus Emmett didn’t really know him as the other man had hired onto the sheriff’s department mere weeks before the shooting. He and Troy Lee seemed to get on like a house on fire, though—requesting to stay partnered even after Bennett’s initial training period with the department.
The waitress brought their drinks and tossed four straws in the middle of the table. Emmett squeezed lemon into his water and took a long sip.
Troy Lee jabbed a straw into his unsweetened tea. “You’re graduating this semester, right?”
“Yeah.” Emmett relaxed as much as he could in the straight chair. He stretched his leg out to the side so he didn’t crowd Bennett across from him. “In December.”
“Calvert posted the jail administrator job this morning.” Troy Lee spun his glass in a slow circle. “You should send your resume.”
“Yeah.”
“Dude, you’re cross-certified in corrections, you have your road experience, and you’re about to have your master’s in administration. You’re qualified.” Troy Lee pinned him with the steady look that brooked no argument. “You’ve got to take a step.”
“Easy for you to say.” He wouldn’t get pissed with Troy Lee. None of his problems were his friend’s fault, and he wasn’t going to fall prey to displaced anger. “After the wreck, you were out, what? A couple of months, then back on the road.”
“You’re right. It is easy for me to say. Even easier for Clark.” Troy Lee paused while the waitress arranged their plates on the table. Once she’d walked away, he clapped Bennett’s shoulder. “That’s why I brought him. He’s the one who had to start all over again.”
Emmett shifted his attention to Bennett and narrowed his eyes. “So what’s that first step like?”
“Oh, it’s a bitch.” Bennett grinned, tanned skin crinkling around his green gaze. “Worth it, but a bitch.”
“It’s a step, Em.” Clark’s quiet voice set him on edge. Man, he hated when they ganged up on him like this, even when it was for his own good. “Administration experience, which you need and don’t have.”
“I don’t have any jail experience either.” He resisted the urge to slam his fork down next to his basically untouched plate. He wasn’t a ten-year-old boy, and he was damn well going to act like a man.
“No, but you can learn. Everybody knows what kind of cop you were—are—and you’re hella smart.” Troy Lee continued to eye him steadily. “Singleton will give you a good reference and you know it. Go in and convince Calvert you can do the job. What do you have to lose?”
“My pride.” Which was still smarting at the word “were”. Past tense, like everything he’d worked so hard for was gone for good. He wanted back in a car, was working toward it every day—but he needed a realistic backup plan in case that never happened. Before, he’d have hashed out that plan with his sister and Clark, but Landra hadn’t talked to him in months. That left him with Clark and Troy Lee…and maybe Bennett.
“Pride is overrated.” Bennett trickled a stream of hot sauce over his pulled pork. “Trust me on that.”
“There’s also a 911 dispatch job open.” Clark bit into his smoked-turkey sandwich.
Emmett pinched the bridge of his nose, aware Bennett was watching him. Bennett rested an elbow on the table and leaned forward, voice low. “Starting over as something else, especially when you didn’t choose to start over, is hard. You can’t stay in one place, though. You get stagnant, and there’s no life in that.”
Mouth tight, Emmett glanced from Troy Lee to Clark. “I’ll polish up my resume.”
“Great.” Troy Lee reached for his tea glass. “And join us to play Saturday night.”
“No.” He hadn’t played since a week before the shooting. “I can’t stand up that long in one place. It still hurts if I try.”
“We’ll get you a stool.”
“I’m out of practice.”
“You have two weeks. We’ll do old favorites.” Troy Lee shrugged, a grin lurking at his mouth. “Be ready.”
Emmett stabbed his fork into his potato salad. “I really hate you sometimes.”
Bennett nodded, his face set in solemn lines. “Yeah, me too.”
“It’s unanimous.” Clark glanced at Troy Lee and chuckled. “I bet Chris would vote with us.”
“Some friends you guys are.” Shaking his head, Troy Lee flipped all of them the finger, and rich male laughter hovered over the table throughout the remainder of their meal.
…
Southwest Georgia’s summer heat lingered into late September. Leaves turned straight to brown and dropped to sidewalks that radiated the sun’s warmth even in early evening. Sweat trickled down Savannah’s spine and formed damp pools under each breast in her sports bra. She slanted a wry look at her sister, walking beside her. “Tell me again how this is better than yoga?”
“Maybe not better than yoga.” Amy brushed her damp bangs away from her forehead. Perspiration glistened on her upper lip, and she lifted her water bottle for a long swallow. “But you’re not supposed to talk during yoga. We can have a conversation while we do this.”
“How about next time we wait until the heat index isn’t so high?”
Amy laughed and bumped Savannah’s shoulder with her own. “You know you’ve missed walking with me.”
Savannah admitted no such thing. When they’d both lived in Valdosta, these evening walks had been a sisterly ritual, a time for chatting and laughing, sharing and weeping. She had missed this, but letting Amy know she was right could be a recipe for disaster.
“So, is this transfer as bad as you feared?” Amy glanced both ways at the intersection of Broad and Harney Streets, and they hustled to cross against the light.
Enjoying the momentary cooling shade of a magnolia tree, Savannah pondered the question. When Southwest Georgia Medical had bought out a set of small hospitals in the counties close to Lowndes, she’d dreaded being transferred away from the ER she’d served for three years. She’d thought being closer to her sister would be the only positive, but she had to admit Coney had its own charm.
“Not really, but I don’t want to stay here forever. The staff at the hospital is great, even though they really need to hire on some more nurses. Small towns are not my thing, but at least there’s a coffee shop and a decent grocery store. The parks are pretty.” She let a half-smile, half-smirk curve her mouth. “So’s my neighbor.”
“Really?” Amy’s bright pageant-princess smile lit her entire face. “That’s awesome.”
“I said he was pretty, not welcoming. He’s kind of grouchy, but that may be because he’s recuperating. You could tell he was in pain when I got to introduce myself last night, and he had a cane with him this morning. He has a nice smile, though.”
“Oooh, you could help him recuperate.” The pageant-princess smile took on a decidedly naughty note. “You know, give him the benefit of your vast knowledge of human anatomy.”
Amy’s enthusiasm could only be described as infectious, and Savannah laughed despite herself. She wouldn’t mind exploring Emmett’s anatomy at all. His rugged features—a square jaw, high cheekbones, and thin lips—kept him from being too pretty, and those blue eyes of his were gorgeous, contrasting with thick, tobacco-brown hair. He had lovely hands, too, long-fingered and capable-looking. And nice forearms, leanly muscled and dusted with brown hair. Lord, the possibilities. Plus, he seemed smart. Grad school and involved in reading? She loved nothing more than an intelligent, good-looking man.
He was younger than she was, probably midtwenties to her thirty-four, but what the hell? She wasn’t looking for a lifetime commitment.
Shaking her head, she grimaced. “You’re not helping. I miss sex, and he makes me think of it.”
Amy sketched an airy gesture with her water bottle. “So ask him out.”
“I did, very subtly, and he was not-so-subtly not interested.” Savannah sighed, indulged the disappointment a moment, then shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m sure there are other eligible men in this forsaken place.”
“A coffee shop and a decent grocery store, remember?” Amy’s brown eyes gleamed with a familiar teasing light. “Somewhere here there is one eligible man who’d be thrilled to date an independent professional woman who admits to liking sex.”
Savannah rolled her eyes.
“I could have Rob find you one.” The eagerness of having a new plan to execute suffused Amy’s voice. “There has to be somebody he works with that—”
“Uh, no.” As much as she loved her brother-in-law and actually respected his opinion, he owed her some major payback for the hell she’d given him over a certain ER visit a couple years back. She was not providing him that opportunity. “I’ll just look where most women do. You know, bars, grocery stores, and church.”
Well, maybe not church, since her idea of a relationship no longer involved happily ever after. She didn’t need to get tangled up with a guy who wanted vows and forever-and-always. Friendly companionship and a little hot sex—that was all she needed. Besides, to look for a man at church, one had to actually go to church, which she hadn’t done in well over two years. She didn’t intend to get tangled up with that either.
Their conversation shifted to other topics—work, their parents, Amy and Rob’s nearly yearlong adoption process—as they wrapped up the last block of their walk. Amy wrangled a promise for Savannah to come cook with her one night later in the week, and they parted with a hug despite being sticky and too warm. The Adirondack chair next to Emmett’s door sat empty, his curtains drawn, even though a now-familiar Ford truck sat in the spot assigned to his apartment.
Inside her still-new home, the blessed flow of air conditioning greeted Savannah. She glanced at the kitchen and headed straight for the shower. Cooking was not on her menu tonight. She stripped off her athletic wear while the water warmed. Pondering takeout versus trying a new restaurant, she stepped beneath the spray. The little retro diner a couple of blocks away looked cute and interesting. She’d try that, maybe pick up a movie from the rental kiosk outside the drugstore on her way home. No romantic comedies, no romantic tragedies…nothing romantic, period.
Shower over, she left her face bare except for moisturizer, a smudge of eyeliner, and a quick coat of mascara. She half-dried her hair and pulled it into the messy twist she preferred when in the ER. Dressed in cuffed boyfriend jeans and a black T-shirt, she considered sparkly flat sandals versus the sexy black pumps she’d bought on her last girls’ day with her mom and sister. She reached for the heels because, dammit, she’d been dying to wear them and it wasn’t like they were appropriate footwear for the ER. She snagged her pearl studs from her small jewelry box and let a fingertip trail for only a moment over the sparkling diamond solitaire nestled in the blue velvet. On a deep breath, she closed the lid before she slung her leather bag on her shoulder and headed out.
She swung the front door open to find herself face-to-face with Emmett. Her heart thudded hard with surprise, and her breath whooshed out. His blue eyes widened, and she laughed, a hand to her chest. “Oh, dear God, you startled me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Thought I’d take you up on that beer and getting to know one another but…” His voice died away, and his gaze trailed over her, a distinctly masculine visual inventory. “You’re going out.”
“By myself, to grab some dinner.” She still sounded a little breathless, but more from attraction and awareness now. His perusal skimmed back over her hips and breasts to her face. Okay, so maybe he was more interested than he originally let on. That could be a very good thing. She graced him with a wide smile. “You’re welcome to join me.”
He rubbed a finger over his stubbled jaw. “Um, sure.”
“Wonderful.” She twirled her key ring around her finger. “I was planning to try the little diner over on Scott Street.”
“Sounds good.” Oh, she liked the raspy quality of his voice. Small lines fanned out from his blue eyes, made even brighter by his untucked white buttondown, sleeves cuffed to reveal those muscled forearms. The hems of his jeans frayed above leather Reefs. Heavens, she might just understand Amy’s assertion that feet could be sexy. The cane was nowhere in sight.
With an unspoken reminder that they were going for dinner, not a couple of rounds of hot, sweaty sex, she held her keys aloft. “Ready?”
“Yeah, let me lock the door.” Any limp was minor as she watched him walk away. She doubted he used the cane every day.
In the car, silence and cool air flowed around them. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, so she didn’t break it during the scant minutes it took to reach the diner. She found a spot on the street close to the door and met him at the front of the car. A young couple exiting the diner greeted Emmett with smiles and curious glances at her.
Emmett returned the pleasantries and held the door, ushering her in with a gesture. The interior, decorated in campy, fun fifties-retro style, was packed with patrons, but they managed to find a small table in the second dining room. Savannah smiled up at a black-and-white poster of Marilyn Monroe, all pouty lips and sex appeal. “This is great. A little like that place in Pulp Fiction.”
“Yeah, it’s a fun place.” Emmett reached for the laminated menus tucked behind the napkin dispenser and handed her one. “They have live music most Friday nights.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” She perused the standard diner fare offerings—burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches—and pursed her lips. “What’s good?”
“Just about anything.” His voice emerged huskier than normal, and she glanced up to catch his gaze on her mouth. She smiled and dropped her attention to the menu again.
After they’d ordered and the server had brought their drinks, Savannah folded her hands on the table. He’d stretched his leg out to one side and rubbed idly at the muscles in his thigh. The lights overhead glinted off his thick hair, the kind a woman wanted to ruffle. “So, grad school while you’re recuperating.”
“Kind of.” He shrugged, broad shoulders rolling under white cotton. “I’d already started the online program part-time before, and I figured it was a good time to start taking a full load.”
She sipped her water. “May I ask what happened?”
“Got shot working a domestic. I’d been cleared to go back on light duty, but then I got an infection and needed another surgery.” He tilted his glass, gaze on the lemon floating among the ice cubes. “And sometimes I’m afraid I’m pretty much out of a patrol car for good, but I’m working toward it, although I doubt it’ll be at Coney’s PD. Small department, and they couldn’t hold my car open forever. My physical therapist says my progress is good, though.”
“I’m sorry.” She’d spent enough time with her sister and brother-in-law to realize how much personal identity got wrapped up with a law-enforcement career. “It’s hard when things out of our control throw our lives off course.”
“Tell me about it.” His chest moved with a deep breath, and he shook his head on a smile. “I put in my resume for a couple of administrative jobs today.”
“I wish you the best. I hope something works out for you.”
The server arrived, arranging plates of before them. Savannah shook out her napkin and laid it in her lap. The food looked good—basic, but fresh and well prepared. Emmett reached for the pepper and sprinkled it over his fries. “So you’re in medicine?”
Savannah speared a blueberry from the fruit cup accompanying her chicken wrap. “ER doctor.”
One eyebrow lifted, he eyed her a moment. “What are you doing here?”
“Having dinner and getting to know you.” She winked, then shrugged. “The hospital system I work for bought out several smaller medical centers. Chandler was one of them, and they transferred me over to smooth the transition in the ER. So here I am. My sister’s here, though, so that’s good. Do you have siblings?”
“A sister. She and her husband live in Tallahassee.” Eyes going a little cool and guarded, he bit into his burger. “My parents recently retired to Orlando of all places.”
“My mom keeps trying to get my dad to retire. He won’t give in.” She lifted another bite of fruit. “Not even for the promise of twenty-four-seven golf.”
They indulged in leisurely conversation while they ate, swapping likes and dislikes. They paid separate tickets, and outside on the sidewalk, Savannah rummaged in her bag for her keys.
“Do you mind if we walk a minute first?” Emmett massaged his outer leg. “Sometimes I need to stretch out the muscles after sitting.”
“Of course.” The heat had dissipated somewhat, leaving behind an evening perfect for a twilight stroll. The town square offered a variety of storefronts to peek into while ambling along the sidewalks, and they weren’t the only couple taking advantage of the late-evening breeze. Only they weren’t a couple, Savannah reminded herself. He walked beside her, leaving a decorous distance between them. It was okay—a girl needed friends too. Even if this particular friend was attractive as hell. She’d focus on his skill at conversation and his sly humor rather than wondering how skilled he was at other activities.
A bright display of beach reads in the bookstore window caught her eye. Among them was her favorite suspense author, mainly because she could count on there being no romance in the text. “Oh, look, they have the new one by Clarissa Penrod in paperback. I wanted a copy to read by the pool, but I don’t like to take my tablet near the water. Do you mind if we go in?”
A quick grimace, gone before she was sure she saw it, crossed his face before he reached for the door. “Sure.”
Inside, scents of lavender and sage wrapped around them. Muted light gleamed on polished wooden floors and plush couches offered a spot to relax and preview a book, and Savannah sighed. “This is wonderful.”
“Yeah.” A tight note invaded his voice. “It’s a nice place.”
She darted a quick glance at him. “Should we—”
“Can I help you…oh, Emmett. Hey.” The sweet female voice shifted from welcoming to extremely uncomfortable in record time. Savannah glanced from Emmett to the young blonde, who was brushing her hair away from her face in an awkward gesture.
Yep, they’d been a couple at one time, and apparently that breakup had not been pretty.
“Hey.” Emmett tucked his hands in his back pockets. “Lacey, this is Savannah. She was interested in one of the books you have in the window.”
“Awesome.” Lacey latched on to the change of subject, her expression clearly relieved. She turned a bright smile on Savannah. “Which one?”
“The new Clarissa Penrod.”
“It’s great. I think you’ll love it. I’ll get you one.” Lacey gestured around the store. “Anything else you’re interested in or do y’all want to browse or…you know, whatever?”
“The Penrod is fine.” Savannah took pity on her. Wow, that had to have been a really bad breakup. She looked Emmett and shrugged. “Unless you wanted to look around?”
“I’m good.” His muted chuckle bordered on a snort. “I’m a regular at the local library, and I have enough required reading for at least three months.”
Checking out didn’t take long as Lacey seemed nervous and almost desperate to end the interaction, although Emmett had wandered to the front of the store to browse the nonfiction shelves.
With her purchase tucked in a brown paper shopping bag, Savannah grinned at him once they were outside. “She’s an ex, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” He tucked his hand under her elbow and steered her toward the diner and her car. “I mean, sort of. We’d been dating a couple of months when I got shot. The long haul of it was a little more than she could stand.”
“You’re lucky, then.”
He glanced at her askance, his palm still a warm contact at her elbow. “That she dumped me?”
“That she didn’t stay until you were more emotionally invested and then dump you.”
He laughed, a deep rumble that built in his chest and shook his shoulders. “Thanks.”
“You don’t seem any the worse for wear, Emmett.” She could feel his laughter through the light connection of his hand. “But I’m serious. Obviously, she wasn’t that invested in the relationship, and she could have stayed out of guilt, which I’ve seen people do when someone is sick or injured. Then, they leave anyway, and the patient is bereft for lack of a better word.”
“I’m not bereft over Lacey.” A small frown brought his brows together. “I’m not sure I ever was. The only thing that makes it uncomfortable is that the whole town knows, and they all seem to think I should be bereft.”
“Small towns are the pits.” She used the remote to unlock the car. He opened the driver’s door, waited until she was behind the wheel, then walked around to ease into the passenger seat. She fired the engine and smiled as cool air washed over them. “I’m glad we did this.”
“Me too.” He shifted sideways in his seat, pale blue gaze holding hers. “This wasn’t a date.”
Back to uninterested. She reached for the gearshift. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Too bad.” His warm hand covered hers on the shift lever. Her gaze jerked to his, and a lazy smile quirked at his mouth. “Because I damn sure want to kiss you good night.”
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