Page 120 of Wild Embers
Casually, I drag my hand over my mouth. “What? My job?”
Blake closes her eyes, pauses, then opens them slowly, communicating her lack of amusement. “Doing an award-winning impersonation of a helicopter mom.”
“No, I’m not,” I deny, shifting in my chair.
“Coffee, hovering in the doorway,” she lists, “you even waited for me outside the bathroom earlier.”
Weaving my fingers together, I recline and rest my hands on my chest.
Blake angles her head, and her tone softens. “Nothing is going to happen to me here. We’re in a police station, for God’s sake.”
For a moment, it’s as if Blake takes some of the weight I carry around on my back and places it on her own.
She reaches her hand across the table toward me.
Sighing, I sit forward and clasp her hand. Sincerity tinged with trepidation leaks through my voice. “I can’t risk it.”
Blake’s mouth curves into a light frown. “What’re you talking about?”
Something inside of me snaps. It’s like a bomb goes off, tearing down the walls I built around my heart, and there are too many pieces to put them back together. I don’t want to lose it here in front of her.
But it’s too late.
Dropping her hand, I list the close calls. “The clinic, your room, your car. How many more times do you think you’ll get lucky?”
Blake sits up straight, her gaze too perceptive. “You’re scared.”
“No, I’m not.” Strenuously, I shake my head in denial. “I’m realistic.”
Blake bites her lip as sympathy colors her eyes.
“Fine.” Abruptly rising to my feet, I cause my chair to roll backward and crash into the wall. “I’m scared.” I throw my hands up, feelings spilling all over the place. “From the moment I found out you were back, everything has gone to hell in a handbasket. I know you didn’t do any of it, but it seems to happen around you, which means you’re going to get hurt. I can’t let that happen.”
Blake gets up, scurrying to the door and closing it. She approaches me, her palms making a calming gesture.
“Take a moment and breathe with me,” she entreats in a soothing tone.
Shaking my head, I reply, “Three times, Blake. Three times you could’ve been hurt or worse, and I wasn’t there to step in for any of it.”
Her hands land on my chest, her right one resting over my heart. Maintaining eye contact, her eyes rim with tears. “I’m not worth saving, Walk.”
Is that what she really believes—what she actually thinks about herself?
As a sheriff, I’ve encountered the scum of the earth. Blake Jennings is nothing like them.
Cupping her face with my hands, I stare right back. “Then why do I keep trying?”
“I believe someone once said that’s the definition of insanity.” Blake flashes a sad smile.
“Maybe.” My eyes trace the slope of her neck, the beauty in every inch of her being. “But I’d do it again.” A few tears slip free, and I use my thumbs to wipe them away. Infusing each of my words with vigor, I bring my face closer to hers. “I’d choose you every time, Baby Girl.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and there’s no going back.
“Why me?” Blake’s voice cracks.
This woman.
“Because I don’t know how not to.”
