Page 93 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
“That’s normal.” She rested her hand on his knee. “You’ve had a rough day.”
His chest lifted and fell with a harsh breath. “I’m worried about us.”
“What?”
“Today, on top of my getting shot last year…that’s a fluke, Savannah, you know that, right? I’m smart about what I do, and I don’t take unnecessary risks.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “And maybe it doesn’t even matter because it’s not like…”
His voice trailed away. Lips parted, Savannah stared at him. He was rarely this inarticulate. “What exactly are you worried about?”
Silence dragged between them. Finally, he shook his head and eased forward on the couch. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Frustration heated the back of her neck. “Emmett.”
“I’ll work through it.” He shuffled to his feet.
Mystified and worried herself, she looked up at him. “Do you want some company?”
“No, I’m sore and I’m hoping the hot water will help.”
She watched him walk into their bedroom. Aftermath was one thing, but this was more like he was preparing himself, steeling himself against—
Those jumbled words about safety and risk tumbled through her head. He thought she was going to pull away. Maybe because of Lacey, maybe because of Gates, maybe because his dad had left so many times… Who knew, but it was in his head.
Well, she could lay that worry to rest.
She stalked through the bedroom to the bathroom. A glass-block wall separated the walk-in shower, but even through the distorted glass, she could make out his silhouette, head bent under the spray, forearm pressed against the wall.
She stripped and stepped into the shower. Hot water heated her skin, steam rising around them. The massive bruises took her breath again for a moment, and she laid gentle hands on them. He jumped under her touch.
“I’m not leaving you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, palms flat on his chest. She laid her lips slightly above the top bruise. “That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That I’d let fear for you send me running?”
He nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Emmett, I work in an ER. I know anything can happen at any time.” Steady and strong, his heart beat against her palm. “I’ve seen accountants and teachers your age come in and not leave for a variety of reasons. I know your job has particular dangers, but I’m not running from that. I’m not leaving you.”
He remained still and silent in her embrace. A tremor moved through him.
“I’m committed, Em, no matter what.” Savannah kissed his shoulder blade. “I won’t be the one to go.”
* * * * *
After they showered, Savannah pulled on gray lounge pants and a loose navy long-sleeved T-shirt. “Have you eaten at all today?”
Emmett stepped into black pajama pants. A frown pulled his brows together. “Can’t remember.”
“Come on. We’ll make a sandwich, and after you eat, we’re icing those bruises and putting the compression bandage on.” She laid a careful arm about his waist as they walked through to the kitchen. “You get to sleep propped up too.”
She set out sandwich makings, and Emmett settled on a barstool to put them together. Footsteps thumped on the stairs, and Clark pushed the front door open, a six-pack of Sam Adams in hand. “Hey.”
Emmet paused in spreading mayo over whole wheat. “How’s Jim?”
“Bitching like always and lucky as hell.” Clark set the carton on the counter and snagged a pickle from the open jar. “He’s going to be okay. The bullet missed any bones and didn’t ricochet, so he’s got minimal damage to the muscles and nerves. He’ll still be out a couple of months, probably.”
“Sounds about right.” Savannah proffered a plate. “Want a sandwich?”
“Heck, yeah.” Clark laid four slices of bread on the plate and reached for the mustard. He craned his neck to look at Emmett’s back. “Dude, that is some massive damage.”
“Yep.”
