Page 42 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
“No.” Dear God. He jerked a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
“Emmett Isaiah.”
“Sorry, Mama.” He glared at Landra, who glared right back before her smile appeared once more.
“You are not making any sense at all, Emmy.” Landra shook her head. “She either had a baby with the investigator or she didn’t.”
“She didn’t have a baby with anybody. Our investigator and his wife just adopted a baby.” He spoke slowly, through clenched teeth. “I need a suit and a gift for that, okay?”
“Okay.” A triumphant smile bloomed on Landra’s face. “Now who is she?”
Why couldn’t he have been an only child? He cast a beseeching glance at his mother. “Mama, make her leave me alone.”
“Sorry, sweet boy.” His mother nudged him toward Feldman’s door. “I want to hear the answer to that question too.”
Obviously, his mother had forgotten his stubborn streak. He wasn’t going to divulge anything he didn’t want to, and right this second, he didn’t want to. Thankfully, they backed off him while he tried on multiple suits in various cuts and colors, until his mother finally decreed a trim basic black was the one.
The clothier held up a white dress shirt in fine-weave cotton. “Let’s try the jacket over this instead of your polo.”
He tugged the department shirt over his head and turned to hand it to his mother. Landra whooped. “You’ve got a hickey.”
He cringed and swallowed an oath. He’d forgotten about the little love bite on his neck, hidden by his collar, but visible now above the edge of his undershirt. Savannah had left the small bruise, sinking her teeth into him while her body had clenched around his fingers in a strong climax.
Landra grabbed their mother’s arm. “I cannot wait to hear about this.”
She could wait all she wanted. Closing his eyes, he shrugged into the dress shirt, buttoned it, and let the clothier slip the jacket up his arms and over his shoulders.
His sister gave a long, low whistle. “If you weren’t getting laid before, you damn sure will once she sees you in that.”
“Landra.” Their mama’s soft warning held a note of laughter.
Emmett shot an irritated scowl over his shoulder at Landra while the clothier measured the arm length and his inseam. She didn’t react, but swept a considering look over him. “Basic black tie too, Mama. A color would mess that up.”
He restrained himself from rolling his eyes. She’d been trying to dress him and otherwise control his life since Mama had brought him home from the hospital. Sometimes, it was like having two mothers.
He hadn’t missed that part of their relationship over the past year.
After he’d almost had to arm-wrestle his mother to gain the right to pay for his own purchases, he hung the suit bag in his truck and escorted them around the corner to Market on the Square. He didn’t even try to convince them to head straight to the baby items, knowing they would have to hit each vendor booth and peruse the clothing, jewelry, and household décor. Hands in his pockets, he wandered behind them, listening to their chatter.
Something about Landra’s was too bright, too cheerful. A frown tugged his brows together. She was always up, always smiling when he got the rare chance to see her, but this evening, her forced good cheer reminded him of times he’d rather forget. His nape prickled. Simply more proof she wasn’t with Mama by chance tonight.
She was as stubborn as he was, though, so all he could do was let it ride until whatever the truth was came out.
While they rifled through a rack of colorful tops and dresses, he spun the small jewelry rack on the glass countertop. A pair of opal drops set in gold caught his eye, and he let one rest atop his fingertip. The opal glinted and sparkled with a classy elegance in the modern setting.
“They’re pretty.” Landra rested an elbow on the counter next to him. “Do they look like her?”
This close, he could better see stress and sleeplessness in the fine lines around her blue eyes, a shade closer to hazel than his own. If he wanted the truth out of her later, he knew he’d have to give up something now.
“Yeah, they do.” He let the earring fall back into place.
“Buy them.”
If he bought Savannah jewelry, she’d be out the door before he could formulate a protest. His mouth tightened and he shook his head. “We’re not…it’s not a good idea.”
Landra rolled her eyes. “Then buy them for later when it is a good idea.”
There might not be a later. He couldn’t say it aloud because he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Landra must have seen the reality in his face, though, because she covered his hand with her own cool one and squeezed. “Trust me and buy them. Sometimes you need something to look at and hope.”
