Page 10 of No Sweet Goodbyes

But I know, and that’s the problem.

I remember the look on her face when we came home from overseas, when Danny wasn’t with us. I remember the smile of happiness at having one of her brothers home, and the tears she shed at the loss of the other. I remember all of it, even if she was only sixteen at the time. I couldn’t do anything then. I couldn’t stop her tears or give her a reason not to cry. I couldn’t do anything, even if I felt her calling out to the very fiber of my being.

But now?

Now she isn’t a stranger.

Now she’s not just a friend’s little sister going through the worst kind of family tragedy. Now she’s all grown-up, and I don’t have to walk away.

Not anymore.

With one idle look down the hall to where my mother is most likely reading a romance novel that would make most grown men blush, I follow Emma out onto the back porch.

Her tear-stained eyes flash at me through the dim yellow light. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m not going to just let you cry yourself to sleep outside.” I don’t waste a single second walking over to where she leans against the porch railing with her head on her knees. I sit right down, folding myself into a pretzel just so I’ll be able to sit in the small amount of space left next to her.

“Go away, Dom.” Emma shuts her eyes and mutters against her hands, which she cradles against her head and knees. “I don’t want to be around anyone right now.” I can practically hear the correction in her words. She doesn’t want to be around me.

Too bad, bonita.

“Good,” I tell her. “I don’t want to be around anyone either. We can be alone together.”

“That’s not how being alone works.” She sniffs. “Just go.”

“Look.” I lower my voice and try to eliminate any sort of emotion from it. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. I’m not trying to take away your right to decide what happens after this moment. But I don’t think you should be by yourself. Tonight has been… exhausting. Not just because of what it means for that little girl asleep in there.” I clear my throat as softly as I can. “But because of the stress you took on as a result of what’s happening. You’re not her mother or father. You’re not her family, but you took on that burden to protect a little girl. You absorbed any of the negativity headed her way tonight, to give her peace. Now, though, you need to take a breath and take care of yourself.”

Fuck. I never talk this much. Ever.

While I am contemplating getting up and leaving just from the embarrassment of being caught with my tongue wagging, I make the mistake of looking into Emma’s tear-filled eyes, and I’m completely lost.

Lost in the same way I laugh at Linc and Remy for falling prey to their emotions. In the sense that I don’t know a single thing about the woman sitting next to me, but if she asks me to cut out my liver and hand it to her, I’ll do it with a smile on my face. And there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do about it, either. I can’t wait three months to get Emma to give us a chance. I don’t even think I can wait an hour, and that is the most fucked-up truth I’ve ever known.

I want her.

Worse than that, I think I need her and I don’t understand why.

So when she closes her hazel eyes and her blond hair slips down into her face, I don’t think twice about moving the strands away from her cheek.

Instead of pulling away, Emma leans into my hand for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for the soft touch of her skin to brand its way into my body like her tears just moments earlier had branded themselves into my soul.

“I’m so fucking tired.” She exhales slowly, and all of the fight leaves her shoulders. Where a fiery virago sat only moments before, ordering me to leave her alone, now sits a shell of the woman I’ve come to expect.

After letting her pull away, I subtly try to scoot closer to her, like we’re kids in school sneaking affection. “What?” I prod playfully, trying to ease the stress I feel coming off her in waves. “No flasks of the good stuff strapped to your thighs to help you get through it?”

For a long time, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she leans over, resting her head on my arm while I fight the urge to wrap my body around her. In the quiet air around us, I almost forget about the tragedy that reached for her as an old friend welcoming her home. Watching it, seeing how she allows her life to be taken over by outside forces, it’s more than any man can take.

“There’s not enough alcohol in the world to get through this,” Emma whispers more to herself than in response to my question. “But thank you for trying to make me feel better, Dom. I know you don’t want to be here.”

“I don’t like talking.” The admission tears from my lips and once again I feel like an idiot, but I’m too far gone to stop now. “You’re easy to talk to, though. You drag it out of me, word by word, and pretty soon I’m just telling you everything. It’s happened twice tonight.” I pause, waiting for her to say something smart-ass or tell me off, but Emma doesn’t even twitch from her spot against my arm.

Fuck it.

I wrap my arm around her, shifting until she was presses against my side and my body protects her against whatever imaginary monsters are out in the dark.

“You’re a dick, you know that?” Her soft voice filters through the air and takes me by complete surprise. “A big fat jerky dick. And I’m still mad at you.”

“What? Why?” My arm almost slips from around her shoulders, but it doesn’t. Honestly, I’m afraid that if I let her get away, Emma won’t ever give me a chance.

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