Chapter Thirty-Five
E mily ended the call just as Nic walked in. Her friend was holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate, and Emily could have kissed her. She took a sip, savoring the warmth and the sweetness despite the fact that it was August in Texas.
“You look good, for someone who just got shot,” Nic said, and her teasing words did nothing to hide the concern in her expression.
“I’m fine,” she said. “It really is just a graze, only took some cleanup and a few stitches. I’ll be out of here as soon as the doctor gets a minute to clear it.”
Nic nodded toward the phone in her hand. “Talking to Tucker? I sort of thought he’d be here. He already cleared it with Jackson to take some time off.”
The worry came back in a rush. “No. The chief. I asked him to discretely check on something for me.” Nic lifted a brow, but didn’t ask. Emily hesitated, but she felt as if she had to tell someone. “I asked him to check out exactly how Tucker’s father was killed.”
Nic frowned. “Why would—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening. Nic was nothing if not quick on the uptake. “Let me guess. A carjacking?”
Emily nodded.
“Wow,” Nic said after a minute. “That’s a nasty bit of déjà vu.”
“He was acting…strange. I mean I expected he’d be upset, but he was way beyond that. So I started to wonder.”
“Where is he?”
She had to smile at that. “He went to get Lobo from Chance and take him home. He thought he’d be happier there.”
“I’m sure he will, until he sees you and knows you’re all right.” Nic tilted her head slightly. “It was good of Tucker to think of that.”
“Yes. But…he scared me, Nic. It was like he wished he’d never…that we’d never…”
“Fallen in love?” Emily blinked, drew back slightly. Nic chuckled. “Do you really think we didn’t know? Just seeing you two together, it was like there was a big neon heart hanging over you.”
“Now there’s an image that’s going to be hard to put out of my mind,” Emily said dryly, but she couldn’t help smiling.
Nic took another sip, looking thoughtful now. “What?” Emily asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Just thinking,” Nic said.
“I can tell. That’s what scares me.”
Nic laughed. “No, I was just thinking that maybe Tucker needs to talk to Lily.”
Emily blinked. “Um…he just did? At length?”
“Yes, he did,” she agreed, her tone a little too bland now, setting off alarms in Emily’s head.
“But?” she asked warily.
Her friend’s next words proved those alarms were well warranted. “But probably not about what it’s like to love a cop.”
“Nic,” she began warningly, knowing her friend planned to not-so-subtly nudge yet again.
But then the ER doctor arrived with the release paperwork, a plastic bag with some medicines, and a couple of pages of instructions.
Nic volunteered to take her home, and things were so tense with Tucker right now she agreed.
When they got there, Lobo was so delighted she forgot about everything else for a few minutes, greeting and hugging the dancing dog who had kept things from turning out much worse.
But when she straightened up—making sure not to wince when the movement tugged at the stitches—and looked at Tucker, who was just standing there watching, rather stone-faced, she didn’t know what to say.
“Do I need to stay and referee?” her friend asked with an arched brow.
“No,” Tucker said flatly. Then, after a deep breath, he said more gently, “I’ll see to her.”
It was only when Nic had gone that she turned on him. “You’ll ‘see to’ me? You make that sound like you’re babysitting. Like it’s a…not something you want to do, but a duty.”
She saw him wince before he lowered his gaze and wondered if she’d hit close on that one. Which in turn only made her angrier. “I’m going to take a shower.”
He looked up sharply. “You should wait.”
That irked her, too. She wasn’t sure why she was so wound up, other than because he was. “The doctor said it was fine. The wound is sealed in plastic at the moment for just that reason.”
She had tried for a lighter tone, although she was afraid she might have gone too far judging by his expression. Stop treating this like it was nothing.
She thought about what the chief had told her, about how his father had died. Of course this wasn’t nothing to him. She took in a long, deep breath and added, “Would you stay close? Just in case?”
His head snapped up. “How close?”
For a moment it was the old Tucker, teasing her. And in that moment she wanted that Tucker back more than she wanted anything.
“Naked and wet with me,” she said bluntly. At his startled look she added softly, “I need to celebrate being alive.”
She saw the moment he broke, saw the gleam in those deep blue eyes.
She could sense the wildness growing in him, yet he was gentle, so gentle, took more care with her than she really wanted, but probably needed.
And when, both still damp from the shower, he took her to bed and began again, it was long, hot and impossibly sweet. Like their first time.
She didn’t ever want there to be a last time.
And it was only as she was dropping off to sleep that she had the thought that it was a time that might not have happened at all, if not for Lobo. And she smiled as she drifted off, because even angry, Tucker had known to see to the dog that had saved her for this.
*
Tucker stared at her as she hung up the phone. When she turned and saw him, her brow furrowed. “What?”
“You’re going back to work?” He sounded as incredulous as he felt.
“The chief says his investigation’s done and I’m cleared.
It’s been a week, and with the stitches out now, I think I’ve milked this little scratch as long as I can.
” She smiled at him. “Unfortunately. It’s been lovely, with just us.
” She reached down to stroke Lobo’s head as the dog sat looking up at her, as if he’d somehow figured out what that call to the department had been about.
“So just like that, you go back to the work that could have gotten you killed? That almost did the other night?”
She straightened to look at him. “It’s my job. And this isn’t L.A.”
He ignored that. “Do you not get that this is crazy, that you got lucky this time, but next time, it may be the bad guy who gets lucky?”
“Tucker—”
“Why won’t you quit now? Find a nice, sane job—”
“Like bull riding, maybe?” she asked, the edge in her voice telling him he was getting to her. “Would you have quit if, say, you’d walked away with just some bruises?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Aren’t we? After what happened to you, you want me to quit the job I love because of a scratch?”
“I quit,” he pointed out, in his view nuking her point.
“Because they told you another crash like that would kill you. But then you find another job that has the potential to do the same thing?”
“It’s not the same at all. Stunt work is much more controlled.”
“So is what I do, at least here in Last Stand. Shane sees to that, and his reputation is spread far and wide. Even those guys that night were only passing through.”
He’d never heard her call her boss by his first name before, and he guessed it was a measure of how upset she was.
And at the mere idea of her finding a safer line of work.
Still, she was just days out of the hospital, and he’d made her so mad she was practically yelling at him.
And Lobo was looking from her to him, a low whine issuing from his throat.
Great, now you’ve got the dog who saved her mad at you.
He felt the nausea welling up, that sick feeling that had sometimes overwhelmed him during the first days after the crush.
The feeling that had screamed at him to just get it over with, to just give up and die.
The same sort of feeling he’d had after watching that big box get lowered into the ground, that there was no point in even trying anymore.
“Tucker—”
He held up a hand, feeling if she said one more word he was going to blow, and he didn’t want to do that.
He didn’t want this—them—to end that way.
But apparently end they would, because she was clearly set on her path no matter what he felt or thought.
Which meant if he stayed, he’d be setting himself up all over again, and he didn’t think he could take a third round of that level of pain.
For a long time he just stood there, looking around at this quiet, peaceful place she’d created, where he’d found such joy. A joy that came with a very steep price—as had every good thing in his life, it seemed.
When he finally left, he grabbed what things of his that had migrated here in the last couple of weeks and took them with him.