Chapter 9
Blaze didn’t do jealousy.It wasn’t his thing. If a woman wanted to date another guy, then he’d wave bye and move on to the next one.
But something about watching Theo Harper wrap Emma Sutton in his arms and hug her tight while she smiled made his gut tighten. Didn’t know why.
Then Theo put her down and kept his arm casual around her shoulders. She hadn’t shrunk away, hadn’t looked uncomfortable.
She’d enjoyed every second until Theo returned to his kitchen. There was that kiss on her head, too. Brotherly more than anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more going on beneath the surface.
Blaze shot a look her way. He’d intended to stay in tonight, but when Chance called and asked if he wanted to go to the Dawg, he’d said yes.
The reason why sat at the bar and chatted with her friend. He told himself he had no business being interested in Emma Sutton, but he reasoned that it wasn’t interest so much as concern for her safety. She was scared of something, and he wanted to make sure she didn’t get scared tonight.
He stole glances at her when he could, but mostly he drank beer and ate wings with his buds and talked about memories from other times, other assignments. Nothing too specific, of course. That time they were in a Costa Rican jungle and a giant spider landed on Seth’s shoulder. Freaked him the fuck out. Dude still didn’t like spiders, which meant he was fun to prank at Halloween.
They didn’t prank him year-round because it wasn’t fair, but Halloween was fair game. Seth screamed like a girl then took his revenge in other ways, like putting shaving cream in shoes or rigging buckets of glitter to drop on unsuspecting heads.
The glitter had been the worst by far.
Blaze took a drink of his beer and glanced at Emma yet again. She was alone at the bar, Rory presumably having gone to pour drinks or take care of a customer. That wasn’t what bugged him, though.
It was the way she hunched over as if trying to make herself smaller. He scraped his chair back and stood.
“Something wrong?” Chance asked.
“I’ll be back.”
He headed over to the bar. Emma still had her head down, muttering something to herself, when he sidled up. She broke off and looked up at him. His heart squeezed at the look on her face.
Fear, loathing, confusion.
“You feel it again?”
She nodded.
“But you didn’t see him, am I right?”
“Right.” She sucked in a breath and took a sip of her wine. Her glass shook. “I must be losing my marbles. It’s PTSD. I think he’s there, but he’s not. And believe me, I’m very glad he’s not.”
Blaze really wanted to know what this guy had done to make her so scared. He wasn’t going to ask, though. Not yet. She didn’t trust him enough. She would, but it would take time.
“You aren’t losing your marbles. It could be the stress, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to listen to that feeling.”
She gazed at him again, her blue eyes wide and wounded behind her glasses. He had a strong urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Except that was Theo Harper’s job, apparently.
Blaze bit down on the impulse and kept his hands to himself. “You listen to it because if you get into the habit of ignoring or dismissing it, because you don’t see the danger you’re looking for, then one day that danger really will be there—and you won’t be prepared. You’ll walk right into it because you told yourself you were losing your marbles. So don’t do that, you hear me?”
She nodded. “You’re really nice, you know that?”
She surprised him enough that he laughed. “Nice? No, not really. I’m the guy the bad guys don’t want to see coming. Definitely not nice then.”
Her smile was shaky. “I saw that in action.”
He didn’t tell her it got worse than what she’d witnessed. Disarming that punk hadn’t taken much effort or thought. It was something he did on instinct. Kinda like breathing.
“I still think you’re nice, though,” she said, her voice whisper soft.
“Hey there, Blaze. Can I get you something?”
Blaze looked up to find Rory Harper on the other side of the bar. She was pretty, with long blond hair and banging curves. She wore red lipstick and had long dark lashes and perfect eyebrows. Her nails were short and neat and matched her lipstick.
She was the kind of woman he usually liked. He’d never felt that flare of interest in her though. Maybe it was because of her brother. Theo was overprotective. Rory could take care of herself with handsy customers, and did, but Theo sometimes inserted himself in the situation and threatened to knock off heads.
Blaze would have done the same thing if she was his sister. Not that he had a sister, but if he did, he’d do whatever he had to do to make sure guys knew if they upset her, they upset him.
“Nah, just came to talk to Emma.”
Rory’s gaze slid to her friend. Whatever she saw must have been good because she didn’t glare or tell him she was back now and he could return to his table.
“Heard you broke that guy’s arm when you took his gun away.”
“I never said that,” Emma blurted.
“Didn’t say you did, babe. I heard some people talking in here a couple of days ago.”
“And you believed them?” Blaze asked.
Rory grinned. “Not necessarily. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”
“I didn’t break his arm. Might have broke his ass when he fell on the concrete though. Nothing less than he deserved after he scared Britney and Emma and shot at Clarence.”
“You won’t get any disagreement from me.” Rory nodded at the other end of the bar. “I have to fill some orders. Be back in a few. You need anything, Emma Grace?”
Emma still had half a glass of wine. She shook her head. “I’m good. Probably going to head home as soon as I finish this.”
Rory looked disappointed for a second. “Okay. I’m glad you came out tonight. I’ll text you later about that class.”
Blaze thought she winked but she turned away so fast he wasn’t sure. “You been friends a long time?” he asked Emma when Rory was gone.
She turned her indigo gaze on him. “Since we were three years old and met in daycare at church. Thirty-one years, though it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long.”
He didn’t have a single friend he’d stayed in touch with. He also wasn’t from a small town. He’d spent most of his childhood in Enid, Oklahoma, and he’d been planning his escape from the minute he’d realized his mother wasn’t ever getting clean. She’d never married his father, and she’d bounced them between a succession of boyfriends, a.k.a. dealers, while she got drunk and high and generally sucked at raising a kid.
“Emma Grace,” he said, dragging his mind from the darkness of his childhood. “It’s a pretty name.”
He thought she was blushing. “Everyone who knew me growing up calls me that. They run it together like one big name.”
“Do you mind it?”
“Sometimes.” Her expression was serious. A little troubled, maybe. “It’s not their faults. It’s mine. It makes me feel like I never left, like I never accomplished anything. I don’t feel like Doctor Sutton. I feel like little Emma Grace, the doctor’s kid. The nerd who loved science and biology and didn’t much care for school dances or boys. Not that I wasn’t interested in boys, just that I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about how to get them.”
There was a lot he wanted to unpack in that little speech, but he decided now wasn’t the time. “And I guess you aren’t asking your oldest friend to call you Emma.”
She shook her head. “Nope. It’s my problem, not hers.”
Blaze shrugged. “Seems to me like she’d want to know if something bothered you. I would if I was your friend.”
She took another sip of wine. “You shouldn’t be so logical, Mr. Connolly. It’s annoying.”
He laughed. “Sorry.” He nodded at her wine glass. “You said you were going home when you finished that. I’ll walk over there with you.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’re out with your friends.”
“Okay, but tell me this. Considering that feeling you got just a few minutes ago while you sat here alone, do you really want to walk home in the dark by yourself?”
“It’s not far.”
“No, it’s not. But do you want to go alone?”
He saw the emotions cross her face before her expression fell. “No, I really don’t.”
“See? Wasn’t hard at all.”