Page 32 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
She stopped at the grocery store along the way to grab fruit, cheese, and pasta salad to go with the chicken and green beans Rob was roasting. At their home, she parked behind Amy’s little BMW, grabbed the shopping bags, and let herself in through the side door. The murmur of their voices carried through the laundry room, and some of her tension began to fall away.
“Rob, seriously, put them away.” A hint of real annoyance hovered in Amy’s voice. “You’ve been buried in them since you came home. You can take a break for supper.”
Savannah set the shopping bags on the counter and slung her bag on a stool. “Should I go?”
Amy waved her smartass comment away. “No, he’s obsessed with this paramedic-shooting case.”
“I’m not obsessed.” Rob shuffled a handful of papers into a folder and laid it aside on the opposite counter. “But I’d like to make an arrest before the guy tries it again.”
“I know.” Amy patted his shoulder and leaned in to kiss him. “But you have to have a life too, remember?”
He spread his hands. “I put them away, didn’t I?”
Savannah perched on the other stool to unpack the fruit and cheeses. “Someone’s a little testy.”
Rob pinned her with a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t start.”
“What is wrong with you?” Savannah matched him glower for glower.
“Nothing.” He chafed a hand over his neck and blew out a long breath. “Beau and Andy went home from the hospital this week, but they still have some recuperation time ahead of them. According to Clark, Beau’s ready to start on his bucket list when he’s healed.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Amy pulled the roasting pan out of the oven and reached to turn off the appliance.
“Yeah, apparently, he’s wanting to go skydiving, and the recuperation won’t be as long as Beck’s, so maybe his life won’t be on hold the same way.”
Savannah stilled in the act of selecting a grape. She didn’t need to hear Emmett’s name, didn’t need to think about him. With forced nonchalance, she lifted the piece of fruit to her mouth.
“So, Savannah, what do we have to do to get you to live again?” Rob tossed the question at her in a too-casual tone that did nothing to minimize the challenge.
She narrowly avoided choking on the grape and hissed in a breath. “Don’t.”
“I damn sure am.” He set his glass aside. Amy’s phone dinged, and she reached for it, attention diverted. “You’re worse off than I was, and you won’t admit it. You made me, remember?”
In the face of that fierce relentlessness, Savannah froze. “That was different.”
“How?”
“Rob.” Amy’s quiet voice did little to break the tension.
“So what about it, Savannah?” Rob lifted a hand. “What are you having more of, good days or bad ones?”
She glared at him, closer to hating him than she’d ever believed possible. She loved him, adored him, but she detested this pushing of his. “What do you want me to say, that I haven’t had a good day in two years?”
“Don’t you think it’s about time you did?” He leaned forward. “I hate seeing you like this, all closed off from everyone and everything.”
“Rob.”
Staring one another down, they ignored Amy. Rob rested his hands at his hips and leaned forward, his gaze intent. “So what about Emmett Beck? Does he make the days better?”
He had. He’d brought anticipation and desire and laughter to her life again. She didn’t know how to handle that.
“Savannah.” Rob’s voice trembled with searing frustration. “You didn’t leave me, and I’m not leaving you. You asked me to let you help me. Why won’t you let someone help you? Tell me what we have to do, Savannah.”
She couldn’t, because she didn’t know herself. The grief and isolation had become a habit, like a well-worn-in pair of sweats.
“Robert.” This time, Amy caught his arm, and he whirled.
“What?” The terse question was the closest thing Savannah had ever witnessed to him snapping at Amy. Savannah sucked in a gulping breath, relieved. At least his attention was off her for a moment.
