Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(79)

“I was talking about why you’re sitting here when Emerson is across town setting up for her cook-off.”

“Street Eats,” Dax corrected and, yeah, he knew what Jonah meant. He’d spent the entire week trying to forget about it, with no such luck. He was the one who’d blasted his way in, gotten her to open up, then he’d hurt her. Badly.

Emerson had finally allowed herself to lean on someone else, and he’d taken the support right out of her foundation. Because he’d hesitated. He’d seen the look in her eyes, heard the confidence in her voice when she’d said she loved him, and it was like he couldn’t breathe through the admission.

It was so unexpected—she was so unexpected—and her words so completely terrifying that he froze.

“You going to call her? Tell her you want another shot?” Jonah asked.

“What’s the point?” Dax asked, knowing he’d blow that one too. “You and I both know that my kind of job doesn’t afford the lifestyle that she’s looking for.”

Jonah laughed at that, hard and long until Dax shot him a look that would have a smart man running. Jonah proved that wisdom didn’t always come with age, because he choked on another few laughs, even patting his chest. “Sorry, you said lifestyle about a woman who wears Converse, offensive tank tops, and drives a food truck.”

“I meant that she’s got plans, knows what she wants, and trust me, it’s not me.” Dax shook his head. “Plus, she’s already got a hundred people weighing her down.”

Jonah studied him, seeing way too much. After a minute, he shook his head slowly, releasing a low whistle while he did it. “Oh man, this is even worse than I thought,” Jonah said, sitting back. “You told your woman, the one who loves you, what she needs and what she wants? Rookie move, bro.”

“She’s not my woman,” he mumbled. “And how do you know she loves me?”

Because she might have told him that in a heated and emotional moment, but Dax hadn’t told anyone else. No matter how emotional he’d been after. He hadn’t had the time—or the heart.

Emerson loved him, and Dax didn’t have a clue what to do with that information—how to process it in a way that would fit into his plan. He’d done the plan A thing, was on to plan B, and even if he managed to come up with a plan C, D, or Z, he didn’t know how to reconcile that reality with the role he’d been playing the past few weeks.

So he froze. Watched her walk out of his house and did absolutely nothing to stop her, then jumped on his bike and headed off toward his new life. Only he got there and it didn’t feel much like a life at all. His apartment was bare, his new team, although nice enough guys, felt like cardboard fill-ins, and his bed felt empty. And his chest—

He didn’t even want to go there.

“According to Shay, who got the entire story,” Jonah said, enjoying himself, “Emerson wanted to be your woman, only when she told you, you ran away like a little girl.”

Dax’s head throbbed at the idea of Emerson talking to her friends. So did his heart. Not that he was concerned if they thought he was an ass, since it would be an accurate assessment, but that the most private woman he knew was hurt badly enough to have to go to them.

And he’d done that to her.

“I didn’t run,” he said. He’d driven his motorcycle like a grown-ass man. “I went to start my new job.”

Jonah snorted. “You don’t want that job. Protecting a bunch of entitled suits? You’ll be bored in three months.”

“You think that sitting here watching Gomer stare at a freaking orange target all day will excite me?” Dax asked.

“No, but based on that sorry look you’ve been sporting all day, I think Emerson excites you. And you know that. Just like you know that she might be the one who saves you.”

“All that in one look, huh?” he said drily. “Man, Sheriff, you’ve got talent.”

“Oh, it’s not just any look. It’s the look guys like us get when an incredible woman says she loves you. The look that says your biggest fear is you’re not loveable. Or worse, maybe you are but you know deep down that you don’t deserve it. How could you, after everything that happened?” Dax could see the familiar pain in his brother’s eyes. “I get it. Trust me.”

Dax did. Jonah too knew what it felt like to carry the weight of someone else’s choices. A few years back he’d made a gut decision that ended up in the deaths of a couple of teenagers and a fellow officer. Jonah had come home, but the guilt was always right there with him.

Dax had doubted if his brother would ever get past it. But somehow he had. He’d found whatever answer the universe had to explain away something as messed up as two dead kids, and he’d found peace. Even more, his brother had found happiness. And love.

“You want to know the only difference between you and me, Dax?” Jonah asked. “I blew the first shot with Shay, and the second, but I decided that I would go back as many times as it took to get it right, because Shay was worth it. But you? Rather than take another shot, you ran, because running hurts less than her figuring out that you were right.”

Dax sat back and rubbed his hand over his chest, trying to ease the itch that had been gnawing at him all week. It didn’t help. Nothing he seemed to do helped. Not even running. That made it worse.