Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(41)

Ever.

“Why don’t you save this for the next person, dear?” Mrs. Moberly said, pushing her glasses farther up her nose and handing him the vibrator. Just like that, she placed a dick-shaped laser light show in his hand and smiled. “I already have one.” Then she patted his cheek and even gave it a little pinch. “It’s so good to see you home, Dax. Safe and in one piece. We’re all real proud of you.”

She said it as if he wasn’t standing on Main Street holding a rubber pleasure stick in his hand and she hadn’t caught him in the stacks, sneaking peeks at the boobs in National Geographic when he was twelve.

One last pat and she was gone, and Dax turned to the next customer.

Ah, shit. “What are you doing here?” Dax asked his brothers, only the question was rhetorical, because if one of them had been in his shoes, he’d come to laugh too.

“What did Dad tell you about standing in public with your dick in your hand?” Adam asked and Dax shoved the vibrator into one of the bags but managed to hit the on switch in the process.

A low hum shook the paper bag and vibrated off the cement and, before Dax could stop it, a bright red glow lit up the box and patriotic-themed strobe lights flickered into the inky night sky. Red, white, and blue, because when Clovis caught wind of a theme, she went all the way, which was why she hadn’t just donated the standard Go Big or Go Home, she’d donated the limited edition Let Freedom Ring series.

“Wow, that can’t be normal,” Adam said with mock concern. “You should have that checked out.”

Dax looked at Adam in his SHFD blues and hat and snorted. “Dude, you drive a red engine, play with your hose, and ring a bell for a living. And you’re giving me shit? I could maim you with nothing but that vibrator.”

Adam opened his mouth, most likely to say something equally as mature and constructive, when Jonah, peacemaker at his core, nudged him silent. “Giving a guy a hard time at his place of work? Grow up.”

Jonah turned to Dax. He didn’t laugh, didn’t make a further mockery of the moment, which he totally could have, and instead put a hand on Dax’s shoulder in a clear sign of support. “We just came by to check on you, see how your knee was holding up, and to ask if you were holding out on your answer about teaching the weapons class until I sweeten the deal. Because if so, I can see if the department will throw in one of those pink stocks for your rifle that all of the ladies down at the range are talking about. Maybe one that flashes lights.”

“Move along, old man,” Dax said, shoving his brother. “There is a strict no-* policy in effect tonight.”

“Seriously, have you thought about the job?” Jonah asked. “Because if it’s a go, then I need to process the paperwork by Wednesday.”

Dax had thought about the job. A lot. The logical part of him knew that getting out with a team of guys, experiencing the kind of camaraderie that came when hanging with people who were cut from his cloth, would be good for him. Maybe even stop some of that itching in his gut.

The other part that was still somewhere over in the Middle East was telling him it was too soon. That walking into that kind of brotherhood again would be a betrayal, because he’d been a part of the best kind of team, vowed with his life to make it to the end with them, and he’d let them down.

“What job?” A honeyed voice slid over Dax’s skin and settled right behind his button fly.

Trouble stood in the doorway, holding a tray of food and a cold beer, her auburn hair shimmering with fire from the twinkling lights of the awning above, well within touching distance.

“Just a temp position with the department,” Dax said.

“One you should consider,” Jonah added.

Adam was too busy staring at Emerson and her tray to say anything. He sniffed the air, then pulled out that easygoing smile that had gotten him laid a million times before. “Nice shoes. What’s that you got under the dish cover?”

He reached for it and Emerson pulled it away. “Hands off, this is for hired muscle only, sorry,” she said, not a hint of remorse in her voice. “And the shoes, they double as a weapon.”

Jonah and Dax burst out laughing. Adam only grinned.

She shrugged, then smiled up at Dax. It was a little shy, a little naughty, and cute as hell. “Ida wanted to say she caught three ‘illegals’ who all got in using a shared fake ID and to up your game.”

“Anything else?” he asked, wanting her to say why she was out here, checking on him.

“Uh-huh.” Amusement lit her eyes. “She also said to tell you that Uncle Sam is slipping if one of his finest can’t sniff out a soccer mom from a grandmom. Oh, and also if you could show a little more skin, she’d appreciate it.”

“Was that last part Ida’s request?”

She nodded at the window behind him—which had little granny faces peeking out. “Your fan club did. And they asked me to bring you a drink.”

The peanut gallery gave a heartfelt sigh. Dax ignored them.

“And the food?”

Emerson opened her mouth, then looked at his brothers and smiled. Which sucked because he saw the spark in her eye indicating she was about to make some smart-ass comment, which had become their way of flirting, but she held back because of Barney Fife and Smokey the Bear. “Ida thought you might be hungry.”