Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(82)
His words were like an arrow to her already broken heart. Dax was surrounded by more love than one could imagine, yet he chose to stand alone. It was so incredibly sad—and terrifying.
“The truth is, I wasn’t ready to come home,” he said and she could hear the shame in his voice. “I didn’t know how. Everything was exactly the same, except for me. No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t seem to fit here anymore. But then I met you, and damn, Emi, you were so warm and real and the perfect distraction. In fact, your big heart and smart mouth had me so distracted I didn’t even realize that you’d become my safe haven. You accepted me for who I was, at every moment, giving me the time I needed to figure things out. I just figured it out too late. And I hurt you, and for that I will forever be sorry.”
As much as she wanted to say it was okay, that she was okay and wanted nothing more than to spend every day with him, she couldn’t. She deserved someone who was willing to stay and fight. For love and for her.
“What did you figure out?” she asked.
“That I had already come home. I came home that first night in San Francisco.” He cupped her face. “I was looking for a place to fit in, but I found you. With you I fit. With you I am whole. You’re my home, Emi.”
“My home is crazy and you need easy,” she reminded him.
“I need you,” he said and she almost believed him. “Emerson Blake, you are my kind of crazy. Please tell me I’m yours, because I love you.”
“You let me walk away,” she cried, everything inside of her breaking all over again. “My whole life I have clung to everyone I’ve loved, fought to spend every second with them. That’s love, Dax. And I told you I loved you and you threw it away, then watched me leave.”
“I did,” he said. “And I can promise you that will never happen again. And you know how I am with promises.” A little bead of hope bloomed at his sweet words, because even though he’d crushed her world, he’d always come through on his promises. Always. “Just give me one more chance to be the kind of partner you need.”
Emerson felt the first tears well up at the intensity in his words and expression. “What would you do if I gave you another chance?”
“I don’t have a ring,” he said and, sweet baby Jesus, right there in the middle of the Pita Peddler Streatery, dressed like a hero for hire, Dax dropped to one knee. Emerson’s heart dropped to the floor.
“Dax,” she whispered, her hand covering her mouth. “What are you doing?”
“This is me going all-in,” he said, looking up at her as if she was the only thing in his sights. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that I love you. I love that you love the people in your world with complete abandon, and that you never back down. And I love that you hide green stuff in my eggs because it’s good for me. And I love your tough side and your soft side, and I especially love your backside.” She choked out a laugh. “I love you, Emi, and I’d love it if you’ll let me be your foundation, your fun, and your family.”
Dax looked deep into her eyes and all of the hurt and anger faded because she saw the truth in his eyes. The way he loved her was the same way she loved him.
Unconditionally.
“Knock knock, Emi,” he said.
“Who’s there?” She laughed but it came out more of a sob, as hope and something warm and safe filled her chest.
“Al.”
“Al who?”
“I’ll promise you always if you just give me the chance to win your heart.”
“You already have my heart,” Emerson said, tugging him to a stand. “You had it before I even knew it was gone.”
“Thank Christ,” he said, pulling her into his arms and wrapping her up in his love. “Because you already have my heart, and if I didn’t have yours, things might get weird.”
“You know how I hate weird,” she whispered as he covered her mouth with his, his hands threading in her hair and holding her to him. And Emerson let herself be held, gave herself over, because when she closed her eyes she could feel the truth: all the avenues led straight to Dax. And if that wasn’t proof that magic existed, then she didn’t know what was.
acknowledgments
A deep and appreciative thank-you to all of the men and women who risk their lives and sacrifice time with their families to protect our freedoms.
As always, a special thanks to my editors, Maria Gomez and Lindsay Guzzardo, and the rest of the author team at Montlake for all of the amazing work and support throughout this series.
Finally, thank you to my fabulous agent, Jill Marsal, for always being in my corner. And to my daughter and my amazing husband, you guys are my world.
There wasn’t a person on the planet who Harper Owens couldn’t friend. The problem was, there wasn’t a single man in wine country who hadn’t already sentenced her to a lifetime in the friend zone.
Until now, she thought giddily, staring up at her Mr. Tall, Dark, and—ohmigod—Mine.
It had taken her eighteen long months of casual conversations, lots of lash batting, three new shades of lipstick, and finally a well-orchestrated flash of cleavage, but Harper was about to get her kiss.
From Clay Walker. Respected pediatrician, a Doctors Without Borders frequent flyer, and on top of being revered by every kid and parent in town, the guy Harper had been hot for since he moved to St. Helena with his son nearly two years ago.