Page 87 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
“Can’t help it.” He stretched out his legs, trying to dispel the energy that way rather than jittering. The move produced an ache in his injured thigh, but it was more a hey-you’re-alive hurt than anything else. He needed a call—those focused him. When they were just riding around, thoughts ping-ponged through his brain.
She thought she loved him, but what exactly did that mean?
What could he do to make her fall the rest of the way?
And if she fell the rest of the way, could she handle that? Maybe things needed to rock on like they were.
He almost wished she hadn’t said anything because “I think” was sort of like “we might go to Disney World” and then one was stuck in a state of suspended anticipation, equal parts excitement and fear.
She made him crazy.
“Beck.” Walker’s terse voice brought him back. “Now you’re tapping the door. Really, man?”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled his hands into his lap.
“What the fuck is with you?”
“Savannahthinksshe loves me. I don’t know what to do with that.” He scraped a hand through his hair. “And dear God, I’m so over the edge, I’m talking to you.”
“Thanks.” Ironic humor twisted Walker’s tone. “Trust me, kid, her thinking she loves you is a sight better than ‘You’re never home, we can’t rely on you, and I’m tired of worrying about you, so I found some guy with an eight-to-five.’”
“Yeah.” He definitely couldn’t argue with that.
“So what’s the problem?”
He frowned out the window. The long-empty convenience store at Hatcher’s Crossing flashed by. “What if she decides she doesn’t?”
Walker cast him a skeptical glance, brows lowered. “You’re really stupid sometimes, you know that?”
“What?”
“The woman’s telling you she thinks she loves you. She’s not going to decide she doesn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“She’s trusting you enough to say that out loud. She’s pretty sure of you, then. She trusts you that much, you’re good to go.”
The logic made a twisted kind of sense. The bitch of it was he didn’t trust her not to let her emotions send her right out the door.
“How does she look at you?”
“Huh?” Lost in deconstructing Walker’s theory, his brain took a second to register the question.
“How does she look at you?” Walker slowed his words as though speaking to a four-year-old. Emmett glowered at him, then frowned in concentration.
“It depends.” When she wanted him, like she could eat him alive. Some of the shuttered self-protection seemed to be gone from her eyes the past few days, and every so often, he saw in her gaze something soft that gave him hope and scared the hell out of him all at the same time.
“You even know how a woman looks at you when she loves you?”
“No.”
“You’ve seen it on other women, though, right? You hang out with Farr, and it’s plain how his wife feels about him, just from how she looks at him.”
“Yeah.” He’d seen it on Savannah’s sister too, the way she practically glowed whenever Bennett was around. Her mom obviously loved their dad, also, although there was sometimes a hint of indulgent exasperation in her expression. He’d seen that same look flash across Savannah’s face a couple of time when they were shopping.
He relaxed into the seat. At least he had a point of reference.
But she didn’t want to love him. He knew that as surely as he knew he did love her. She was unpredictable as well when it came to her emotions. All the unknowns swirled into one big sensation—fear of loss.
