Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(38)
“How about I get you in the house and at least make you dinner,” Emerson offered. “You need to eat, right?”
Dax’s eyes went hot and he cupped her face with his masculine hand. “If you go with me into that house, I’m going to want to skip dinner and go straight to dessert, sampling every piece until I decide on my favorite.” His fingers dropped to the erratic pulse at her neck. “Then we’d do it again and again until our palates are completely satisfied.”
Emerson’s head was telling her to abort mission. A good chef knew that dessert always followed dinner—it was the hint of sweet that marked the end of the meal. The bad girl in her, the one who used to run things but went on sabbatical the day her mom got sick, reminded her that dessert was a host’s way of guaranteeing that nobody left the party unsatisfied.
Emerson knew that with a man like Dax, and that wicked promise in his eyes, she’d never be left unsatisfied. He would make her sweet spot a top priority and her satisfaction his own personal mission.
“Something is warning me that it still won’t be enough,” he said, and Emerson’s competitive side was up for the challenge. But before her sweet spot could be tended to, Dax ran his thumb over her lip and said, “And I’m leaving in a few weeks’ time.” He sounded almost as if the admission caused him physical pain. “So this is where I say thanks for the ride and the groceries then hobble my sorry ass up to bed. Alone.”
“You just went home?” Harper asked, sliding a tray of mini spinach and dill-infused feta pastries into the fridge. She had flour on her face, phyllo dough stuck to her sweater, and her curly black hair was piled on top of her head, held there with what Emerson assumed was a half-chewed pencil or a clothespin.
Emerson knew the amount of preparation needed to pull off the farmers’ market and Blow Your Cork in one day was going to be intense, so when her dad called early that morning saying he had an interview later that day at a high-end boutique winery down valley for a senior manager position, Emerson had no choice but to offer to take Violet for the day. Hanging with her sister at the farmers’ market would be fun—she could put Violet to work selling the baklava. It was the two hours in between events that would be a problem.
Her solution? Prep for both events simultaneously before Violet arrived. Which meant she needed backup. Harper couldn’t cook, but years of working with kids had taught her to be a master with directions—issuing and receiving.
She also had a velvet honesty about her that made her the perfect sounding board.
“What was I supposed to do? Force my way in and make sure he made it to bed without passing out?” Emerson dropped an apron full of plums and oranges onto the counter. Today’s farmers’ market special was a plum shortcake, a crowd favorite, which meant she needed to make twice the normal amount.
Harper closed the industrial-sized fridge and turned to face her. “A man who looks like that says he wants to dine on me? I’d carry him to bed, show him what’s for dinner, then tuck him in. Right over me.”
“Even if you knew he was leaving?” A matter that had accounted for Emerson getting exactly zero sleep last night. She wanted Dax, no question. And he made it more than clear he wanted her.
What should be a simple problem with a simple solution was complicated by the fact that in addition to wanting him, Emerson was stupidly starting to like him—and there was no simple outcome for that.
“I knew you were leaving for Paris, but that didn’t mean I stopped hanging out with you.” Harper crossed her arms. “In fact, I hung out with you more.”
“This is different,” she said. “I couldn’t shake you even if I tried. Your circle of friendship is unbreakable.”
Harper smiled proudly. There wasn’t a soul in town she didn’t know or hadn’t befriended. She was the kind of person who hugged strangers and could make friends with a rabid piranha. She’d rub a fishing line in some of that sunshine she wore for perfume, tie it to an olive branch, and seduce the flesh-eating fish into embracing his inner koi. Then she’d take it home, convert it to a vegetarian, and buy it a green-powered tank.
“And Dax, well, he’s—”
“Sexy, single, mysterious, and interested.”
He was also so damn charming he brought up feelings that she hadn’t dealt with since Liam left. And like Liam, Dax too was leaving. “He’s moving to San Jose.”
“Hello? Perfect situation. You need to get laid, and he looks more than equipped for the job.” Harper slapped her hand over Emerson’s mouth. “And before you talk yourself out of a little friends-with-benefits action and deny us this incredible opportunity, because let’s be real, the last man who hit on me was Tommy Walker at last week’s watercolor class when he told me I smelled like glue”—at Emerson’s confused expression, Harper clarified—“Tommy loves glue. Anyway, I need you to really understand what you’d be saying no to.”
Harper turned Emerson’s head with her hands so Emerson could focus in on the front page of the St. Helena Sentinel and the most delectable abs and chest this town had ever seen.
“Look long and hard,” Harper whispered. “Still not convinced? Then let me remind you that we live in a town of six thousand. Six thousand people we already know, Em. Every single man we will encounter from here forward will either be tourists who will leave, college kids who will think we’re old, old men who will think we’re desperate, or guys who knew us when we played with Barbies.”