Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(72)
“I don’t want to make Sissy mad,” Violet said to the dirt on the ground. “And I don’t want to let my Bugs down or be full of that bad word.”
Resisting the urge to explain that although it was technically a four-letter word, as far as offenses went, it ranked as a pathetic one on the foul chart, he pointed to her wings. “Then why are you skipping out on everything you worked so hard for to put on that getup?”
“Because I’m a fairy!”
Glitter hit him in the chest this time. Dax ignored it. Instead, he kept his laser-lock glare on the little fibber in front of him, whose poker face was almost as pathetic as her sister’s. “Try again.” She reached for the glitter. “Without the flashbang of sparkles.”
Violet dropped her hand and sighed. Big and weighted, and Dax knew he was finally getting somewhere. The kid wanted to tell someone her secret. It had probably grown so big in her little head that she felt as if she were going to explode with admissions.
Worrying her lip, she glanced around and leaned in at the waist with a cupped hand over her mouth. “My dad’s here. He watched me and my team. And I think we’re going to win.”
“I think you’re going to win too.”
His girls had decimated the other teams. Fastest fire, most creative and effective shelter, and, more importantly, they’d stayed calm and worked smart. And as a team. Until Violet disappeared.
“But even if you don’t, you should be up there with your team, facing the music together. Not down here playing dress-up,” he said, then realized his hands were on his hips like he was some kind of helicopter parent. He dropped his arms. “What does your dad have to do with this whole I’ve Got Wings game you’re playing?”
Dax knew all about playing the part—he’d done it a hundred times before. Hell, his entire life was about putting on a game face, even if he wasn’t sure of the outcome. When things got squirrely, his men would look to him for leadership and direction—and even the slight hint of doubt could cost lives. So yeah, he knew all about playing the part.
“He still believes,” she said, barely above a whisper.
This time it was Dax who exhaled. Because everything suddenly clicked. The wings, the ridiculous name, the fairy trap she made with Roger. “Are you dressing up because your dad thinks you’re a fairy?”
Her shoulders sank and a cool breeze blew past, catching the ends of her wings and giving the illusion that they were flapping. “I don’t want to make him sad, like when I found out Santa was really Emerson.” There were so many sad things about what she’d just said, Dax had a hard time swallowing. Santa wasn’t Dad, it was Emerson. “So I have to be Pixie Girl when we win, so he’ll still believe. He smiles when I’m Pixie Girl.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe he smiles because he loves you, Violet? Or that he’s pretending too because he thinks it will make you smile?”
Her big green eyes went wide and she shook her head.
Dax crouched down low and put a hand on her slim shoulder. “You don’t need to pretend to be something you’re not to make your dad happy. You make him smile just the way you are.”
“You sure?” she asked and he was pretty sure he heard a sniffle.
“That’s an affirmative,” he said and before he knew what happened, little arms were wrapped around his neck and pink glittery wings were jabbing him in the ribs, but he didn’t care. Violet might not be a fairy, but her hugs were pretty magical.
“Now, get running, because according to Bug Time, you’ve got less than five minutes before the judges come around, and that bass trap of yours will lock down this competition.”
She gave him a big smile and a salute, then took off.
“Hold up.” He grabbed her by the wings again before she got too far. “I’ll take these.”
“Thanks, Lovely Co-leader Mister.” She shrugged out of them, reached into her pocket, and came out with a handful of glitter. “Can you hold this too?” she asked but didn’t wait for an answer, dropping the glitter on—and inside of—his boots, then racing up the hill.
“Thanks, Lovely Co-leader Mister,” a sexy and amused voice said from behind him.
Dax turned around and his breath caught in his lungs. Emerson stood in the shadows of an oak tree behind the girls’ tent. Dressed in a uniform of khakis, starched white shirt, and a red sweater vest, she should have looked like a soccer mom but managed to look sexy as hell. She also looked a little vulnerable at that moment, her expression a potent combination of awe, admiration, and adoration.
The first two he knew what to do with. Had received those looks a lot. They came with his rank and Ranger tab. The last one, though, he didn’t see that often with regard to him. And never from someone as amazing as Emerson.
“I thought you were with the girls.”
“I was.” She stepped out from the shadow. “But then Liza Miner saw our shelter, which is beyond impressive, and started googling how we did it. When she realized that we didn’t cheat, she started yelling instructions to her Lovelies to add pine needles for bedding. The Sacramento leader called foul, took Liza’s phone, and dropped it in the fire.” She grinned. “Our fire, because it’s the biggest, and the situation went bad fast, so Queen Bug banished anyone over ten wearing a Lady Bug patch until the winner is announced.” She looked at her watch. “Which should be in a few minutes.”