Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(36)
“The article goes on to say that last week’s party was crashed by a bunch of underagers. In order to keep things orderly and safe, and to please the fire marshal, management is hiring local muscle to work the door.” Kyle grinned. “Nice picture, man.”
Yeah, he looked like a stripper. Wearing nothing but rip-away pants and a shirt that was halfway over his head, looking like it was coming off and not going on.
“My earlier client was talking about going mainly to see if you were photoshopped. She’s eighty-two and has a titanium hip.”
“I was out running,” Dax said, unpinning the paper from the board. He went to throw it in the trash, only to stop short when he saw the photo underneath his—and smiled. In the middle of a tsunami of pain, he actually smiled.
Then laughed, because—best day ever—directly below his snapshot was one of the wine bar’s caterer. A hot little Greek number with auburn hair, sexy lips, wine-colored Converse, and wearing a cork-inspired costume. Big, brown, and concealing every delicious curve beneath the wire-shaped cylinder—with a corkscrew-shaped hat up top.
Dax ripped off and pocketed the photo, tossing the rest of the paper in the can. “I stopped in the wine bar on Main Street. A crazy lady snapped it.” Then gave him information on Emerson in exchange for a favor. Looked like Ida was calling in her marker.
And Emerson was the resident cork bunny.
“I don’t know what’s worse, admitting to the one guy who stands between you and a doctor’s signature that you were running or that you were in a wine bar.” Kyle stopped and smiled. “So, when were you going to tell me you’re the new Lady Bug leader?”
“Is anything private anymore?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Kyle grabbed a towel and wiped it down his face, then tossed one to Dax. “You were wearing a hat that said Lovely while eating an ice cream cone at the community park.”
“It was a popsicle,” he clarified. One hundred percent real juice, no added sugar. Emerson’s rules. “And Jonah said I needed to get more involved in the community.”
The popsicles had been all his idea. The girls had taken to steel wool and batteries faster than most new recruits, so he’d rewarded the little pyros with a treat from the market.
“According to my earlier patient—”
“The hip replacement?”
“No, stroke survivor. She said that you were seen sharing your Cyclone pop with the food cart girl.” Kyle let loose a whistle. “Emerson Blake? Gotta say I’m surprised.”
“You take up coupon bingo when I was gone? Because you sound like my great-aunt Lucinda quoting the senior grapevine like it’s the Washington Post. And for the record, I hired Emerson to cook me food that wasn’t a token of gratitude for doing my damn job,” Dax said and Kyle sobered. “And why are you surprised?”
“She’s not your normal type.”
“I have a type?” This was news to Dax. He liked women, all kinds of women. Blonde, brunette, redhead, he especially liked those. Big boobs, spinners, didn’t matter. If there was an attraction, he was game. With Emerson, though, he feared he was attracted because they were playing a game. Although what had happened in the market earlier had felt like a whole lot more.
“Yeah, you like them easygoing, up for a good time, and not interested in breakfast the next day. Emerson is smart, straightforward, and, after her mother passed, has more ties than a parachute.” Something Dax was beginning to understand. “She also isn’t a booty-call kind of girl. She’s the kind who leaves a mark.”
Kyle was right and Dax knew it.
Clenching his jaw, Dax stood, proud when he didn’t wobble. But Kyle saw through his military-grade exterior and offered him a hand up. Dax waved it off because, what the hell? “You seem to know a lot about Emerson.”
Kyle stared at Dax. Dax stared back. His friend was big, but Dax was bigger.
“I treated her mom,” Kyle said slowly. “Lillianna was the first patient I lost after coming home.”
Not what Dax was expecting his friend to say. He’d thought his buddy was warning him off because unlike Dax, Kyle had a type. And Emerson was it. Worse, though, that meant she’d lost her mom recently enough that the wound was still open.
“When Lillianna’s condition worsened, Emerson moved home to help, came to every appointment, and was with her mom right up until the end. She’s spent the past year and a half taking care of her sister and dad, and from what I hear, she pretty much is the only thing holding her family together.”
“Sounds like something she’d do.” Dax pictured the tough girl with the smart mouth and sad eyes putting her life on hold to come to her mother’s side. A lot of things started to make sense. Including San Francisco. It was probably the first time she’d let loose, taken something for herself since her mom got sick.
That she’d chosen him was humbling, because although they could chalk it up to timing and opportunity, that night had affected him more than he’d like to admit. Then she’d left—now he knew it was to go back to her life. And damn if that didn’t make him want to carry a part of her burden. Or at least not add to it.
“My suggestion is to go home, put your leg up, take one of those pills you hate so much, and get some sleep.” Kyle shook his head. “I know that look and I’ll tell you the same thing I tell all of the idiots who come through here. Healing takes time, and only a fool would rush that.”