Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena) (25 page)

“I still might puke.” Dax stood and looked at his watch. Because she’d asked him if he trusted her and he’d said yes. And trust was a two-way deal, he knew that. Yet when she went for honesty he let doubt creep in.

He’d hesitated.

Because of the connection. He’d hesitated because he’d recognized that look—it was the same one he’d seen Jonah give Shay, his grandpa give his new wife, ChiChi, and he knew if he went for it and misjudged, it might kill him.

So he’d reassessed, tried to find a different avenue, an angle that wasn’t there, and spent so much time weighing risk to motives that he missed what was standing right in front of him.

His golden opportunity.

Emerson had put herself out there, offered him a chance to be a part of her team, no guarantees but an honest-to-God chance at finding happiness, with her. And instead of fully engaging, he’d changed position before really giving it a shot.

He wanted that second shot. Needed it.

“Emerson is stubborn,” he said to Jonah, who was just smiling. “Almost as bad as I am. Hell, I’d only give me one shot. What if she does the same?”

“Did you cuff her in front of the mayor and throw her in jail?”

“What the—?” Dax narrowed his eyes. “No.”

Jonah waved a carefree hand. “Eh, then you should be good. Buy her a kitten, though, just in case.”

“A kitten?” Dax asked. “Are you screwing with me? I’m not buying her a kitten so you can get rid of one of the nine thousand in your house.”

Jonah shrugged. “Your call, but I’d go with Patches. He’s a Siamese-Bengal mix. Won’t shut up but took on a coyote a few months back and
won. He’s missing a leg. A real badass. Sounds like Emerson’s type.”

A bullet blasting through metal cut through the air and Dax turned his head. Gomer had taken the shot, and it was all Dax could do not to run down there and look to see if he’d made it. “Tell me he hit orange.”

Jonah picked up the binoculars and laughed. “Nope, went wide and hit my cruiser.” Jonah looked at Dax over the lenses. “Poor FNG hesitated so long he talked himself right out of his second chance.”

“You going to give him another shot?” Dax asked, not amused by the irony.

“Nope. You are.”

Dax looked up and Jonah patted him on the back. “You can tell him Monday morning when you report to work—as his mentor. That way the kid sweats it out a little.”

Dax hugged his brother. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Try ‘Affirmative, awesome brother of mine. I will report to work first thing Monday morning, here is my hand, let’s shake on it,
’
” Jonah said in his best Dax impersonation. Dax laughed and took his brother’s hand.

An overwhelming sense of right went through that shake, because everything Dax had lost when he’d walked away from the army was standing right in front of him. He was already a part of the best brotherhood on the planet.

Dax pulled Jonah in for a one-armed bro-hug, followed by the more masculine proud-of-you smack to the back. “Missed you.”

Jonah paused, and so did Dax. It was the first time he’d said those words to anyone in his family since enlisting.

“Missed you too. And I’m glad you’re finally home,” Jonah said thickly and Dax realized that he wasn’t home. Not quite yet. But he was finally ready to start the journey. And he knew just who he wanted to take it with.

“Now go, before you have to bring Emerson a kitten
and
a Shetland pony.”

B
y the time Emerson set the last of the cupcakes on the tray, she had chocolate batter dried on the tip of her ponytail, orange-zest-stained nails, and enough ouzo frosting on her apron to pass for a drunken cupcake. She also had a heartache that burned as hot as the Sahara that made fully enjoying this moment hard.

“The toppings are prepped, the orange slices are candied and ready to go on the cupcakes, and the troops are waiting for orders.” Roger pointed to the cluster of tyke-sized #
GOGREEK
hats sitting on the steps of the food truck with promotional shirts on. “Look, even their uniforms are ironed.”

That wasn’t all. Each girl had hand drawn a sign for the competition, proclaiming Pita Peddler the best streatery in wine country. They’d also handed out over two hundred fliers to tourists who had come out to taste some of the best eats in the country. Including several corporate scouts interested in finding new potential franchising opportunities.

And the crowd reflected their hard work. Peering out the window, Emerson could see the bright colored trucks lined up side by side, stretching all the way through the parking lot of the Napa County Fairgrounds. Bold flags flapped in the wind as the crowd of foodies took in the quirky menus and vinyl-wrapped trucks boasting their mascots. Thousands of street food enthusiasts had turned out—and a good handful were swarming her truck, waiting for the window to open so that they could sample the menu she and Harper had labored over.

“Thanks, Dad,” Emerson said, wondering how so much had changed in just a few short weeks. Her sister was happy, her dad was on to an exciting new chapter, and Emerson had opened the first truck in her soon-to-be Greek streatery fleet.

She’d also fallen in love, had her heart broken, and yet somehow she was surviving. It still hurt every time she breathed, and even thinking about Dax made her stomach knot, which happened every time she slowed down, but she was pushing forward, and her family was there to help her.

“What do you think Mom would say?” she asked, wondering if Dax was allowing his family to help him or if he’d decided to go it alone.

“I think she would say the nachos are ingenious, the baklava tastes just like your great-great-grandmother’s, and that the lamb needs more salt.” Roger wiped his hands off on his apron and pulled Emerson in for a hug. “She’d also say that you are an amazing chef and an amazing daughter. Then she’d wipe her eyes on her sleeve and blame it on the onions.”

Emerson laughed and did a little wiping of her own. “Yeah, she would. And she’d be wrong on the lamb. It’s seasoned perfectly.”

Roger smiled but added a sprinkle of salt. “It looks like people are already starting to line up, and the girls did a great job handing out the fliers.” Harper had the brilliant idea to make up coupons—a buy-an-entrée-and-get-a-cupcake-free campaign to bring in a crowd. And from the looks of things, it was working. “I’d say we’ve got less than ten minutes until opening.”

“Okay, give me a minute.” Emerson took a breath and forced her heart rate to slow. She wanted to be in the moment, experience how it felt when everything finally came into focus and things that had seemed so impossible just a few weeks ago were suddenly real.

This was her time and she didn’t want to miss a second of it.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Emerson opened her eyes and turned around, and everything slowed to a stop.

Dax stood in her truck, dressed in full camo fatigues, wraparound
glasses, and his army cap. He looked big, bad, and combat ready.
There was also a duffel bag at his feet that had her going lightheaded.

“The truck looks great,” he said. “And the food smells amazing, even the green stuff.”

“You came here to try my food?” she asked and a painful laugh escaped her lips. “Or is this some twisted
I am a man of my word
moment? Because I meant what I said, I’ve got this.”

She didn’t want his crumbs. She wanted it all: love, magic, all of him.

“I came here to give you this.” His face was carefully blank, not giving a thing away as he handed her a one-page, handwritten letter.

She swallowed hard and took the paper. Her heart was hammering too fast for her to make sense of anything, so after a few lines she gave up. “What is it?”

“An application.”

Her throat went tight. “But you already have a job.”

“I quit that one,” he said, removing his glasses, and when his piercing blues met hers, she stopped breathing altogether. “This is for a new job. One here.”

“With Jonah?”

He shook his head. “With you.”

Not sure how to take that, she lifted the paper again, but she was shaking so bad it was impossible to make out anything beyond a few words, like chopping and sous. She looked up. “You want to be my sous chef?”

“Today I do. And tomorrow, if you’ll let me, I want to be your pillow. And the next day your first and last customer.” He took her hand in his and trapped it against his heart. The beat was steady and sure. “The day after that I want to cook you dinner. It won’t be perfect, but I’m willing to try. And that brings us to Thursday, which means I’d be your co-leader.”

“And Friday,” she asked, hating how her voice shook, her heart so heavy with hurt she was too afraid to hope. “What happens then? Because we did all of that, and it wasn’t enough for you.”

“Friday,” he said, his voice so raw she had to look away. Gather her thoughts. But he wasn’t having it, waiting until she was ready to look at him again. And when she couldn’t, he lifted her chin until she was gazing into his eyes. “Friday, I want to be your fun. I want to take you for a ride down the coast, maybe pitch camp on some isolated beach, and spend the entire night telling you just how amazing you are. And just how sorry I am.”

“Sorry doesn’t take away the hurt,” she said. “You hurt me, Dax.”

“I know. I had everything I wanted right in front of me, but grabbing it meant staying
here
. In my hometown.”

“We could have worked it out,” she said, taking a step back, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “I was scared too but I was willing to risk the ache for a shot at something amazing.”

“Did you know I was the only person who came home on my plane who didn’t have a family member waiting for them at the airport?” he asked quietly. “Not because they didn’t want to, but because I didn’t tell them I was coming.”

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.