All I Need (Hearts of the South) Read Free Page B

hand to her chest. “Oh, dear God, you startled me.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Thought I’d take you up on that beer and getting to know one another but…” His voice died away, and his gaze trailed over her, a distinctly masculine visual inventory. “You’re going out.”
    “By myself, to grab some dinner.” She still sounded a little breathless, but more from attraction and awareness now. His perusal skimmed back over her hips and breasts to her face. Okay, so maybe he was more interested than he originally let on. That could be a very good thing. She graced him with a wide smile. “You’re welcome to join me.”
    He rubbed a finger over his stubbled jaw. “Um, sure.”
    “Wonderful.” She twirled her key ring around her finger. “I was planning to try the little diner over on Scott Street.”
    “Sounds good.” Oh, she liked the raspy quality of his voice. Small lines fanned out from his blue eyes, made even brighter by his untucked white buttondown, sleeves cuffed to reveal those muscled forearms. The hems of his jeans frayed above leather Reefs. Heavens, she might just understand Amy’s assertion that feet could be sexy. The cane was nowhere in sight.
    With an unspoken reminder that they were going for dinner, not a couple of rounds of hot, sweaty sex, she held her keys aloft. “Ready?”
    “Yeah, let me lock the door.” Any limp was minor as she watched him walk away. She doubted he used the cane every day.
    In the car, silence and cool air flowed around them. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, so she didn’t break it during the scant minutes it took to reach the diner. She found a spot on the street close to the door and met him at the front of the car. A young couple exiting the diner greeted Emmett with smiles and curious glances at her.
    Emmett returned the pleasantries and held the door, ushering her in with a gesture. The interior, decorated in campy, fun fifties-retro style, was packed with patrons, but they managed to find a small table in the second dining room. Savannah smiled up at a black-and-white poster of Marilyn Monroe, all pouty lips and sex appeal. “This is great. A little like that place in Pulp Fiction .”
    “Yeah, it’s a fun place.” Emmett reached for the laminated menus tucked behind the napkin dispenser and handed her one. “They have live music most Friday nights.”
    “I’ll have to remember that.” She perused the standard diner fare offerings—burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches—and pursed her lips. “What’s good?”
    “Just about anything.” His voice emerged huskier than normal, and she glanced up to catch his gaze on her mouth. She smiled and dropped her attention to the menu again.
    After they’d ordered and the server had brought their drinks, Savannah folded her hands on the table. He’d stretched his leg out to one side and rubbed idly at the muscles in his thigh. The lights overhead glinted off his thick hair, the kind a woman wanted to ruffle. “So, grad school while you’re recuperating.”
    “Kind of.” He shrugged, broad shoulders rolling under white cotton. “I’d already started the online program part-time before, and I figured it was a good time to start taking a full load.”
    She sipped her water. “May I ask what happened?”
    “Got shot working a domestic. I’d been cleared to go back on light duty, but then I got an infection and needed another surgery.” He tilted his glass, gaze on the lemon floating among the ice cubes. “And sometimes I’m afraid I’m pretty much out of a patrol car for good, but I’m working toward it, although I doubt it’ll be at Coney’s PD. Small department, and they couldn’t hold my car open forever. My physical therapist says my progress is good, though.”
    “I’m sorry.” She’d spent enough time with her sister and brother-in-law to realize how much personal identity got wrapped up with a law-enforcement career. “It’s hard when things out of our control throw our lives