Page 80 of Emma's Element

Emma blushed as the nearby crowd erupted in cheers. She looked down at her feet, sure she was just a melted puddle on the red carpet. His words were that potent. “So, is this it for you? Is Ms. Watterson your permanent leading lady?” the woman asked.

“If she’ll have me,” Marcus answered with another adoring look. He smiled, seeing the blush on her cheeks spread. He kissed her temple before turning back to the journalist.

But the next question was directed at Emma. “I heard you are training Mr. Rayne for his next movie role. Something about the search and rescue heroes that helped him a few years ago. Is that true?”

“Yes,” she answered. Emma looked up at the incredible man by her side, her love shining for all to see. “But as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t need further training. He’s already my hero.”

Epilogue

Wyatt

Wyatt“TinMan”Tinsleyswallowed a large swig of Jolene’s latest concoction. It wasn’t his favorite, but it was still tasty.

Jolene’s was busy as usual. Made more so by the grouping of tables taking up the majority of real estate in the restaurant inhabited by the Nighthawks and their extended families. It was Saturday, and the mood was jubilant. There was a lot to celebrate.

Once again, one of their own had been in danger but had persevered. Thankfully, no one had been shot this time, only bruised. Wyatt had a feeling the emotional bruises would take far longer than the physical. He could understand Marcus’s pain since his own mother had never come remotely close to winning Mother of the Year. One of the best days of his childhood was when his grandparents came and took him out of the cesspool he’d been forced to live in.

He’d been thirteen and couldn’t remember the last time he’d had anything to eat. But after his grandparents won custody of him, he’d never had to worry about food again. When he was eighteen, he’d enlisted in the Army only to lose both his grandparents in that same year. His mother had cleaned up her act at the same time, when she became pregnant again.

Every once in a while, she’d show up begging for money. One such time slipped from his memory banks to play out on the widescreen in his mind as he took another swig of his beer. He’d just graduated from Ranger school and was celebrating with his classmates. She’d played the proud parent, then cornered him to demand money. His buddy had overheard, immediately intervened and escorted her out. Wyatt had been humiliated, but his friend just patted him on the back and challenged him to a game of pool.

It’d been nearly a year since he’d last seen her, so he anticipated a visit any time now.

But as he looked around at his friends?his family?he realized how far he’d come from that scrawny, starving kid. He’d loved being a Ranger, but he loved being a Nighthawk more. And the group surrounding him were some of the best people he’d ever met. They were called heroes, but they were his family.

He studied each of his friends as he sipped his beer. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood but there was something off about Finch. He was usually the most boisterous of the bunch, but he remained somewhat removed tonight. Wyatt’s gaze was snagged by a redhead moving towards their table. Jolene smiled at her friends then chose a seat at the complete opposite end from Finch, which was unusual since they normally sat near each other. He moved his gaze back to Finch who’d slunk down in his seat looking like someone had stolen his dog. The pair appeared to have grown apart over the past few months and it didn’t go unnoticed, but neither was talking. Wyatt wished he could do something to help his friends. This was indeed a family, and when one of them was hurting, they all did.

It still amazed him that his family now included the man who played a superhero on the big screen. Wyatt’s gaze drifted over to the actor, who at the moment was talking to a blonde woman he hadn’t seen in here before. From the back, she had a nice figure. Long legs encased in form-fitting jeans, firm ass, cinched in waist, and hair that draped halfway down her back and was the same shade as the wheat that grew on his grandparents’ farm. The same wheat fields he’d been able to lose himself in after his grandparents had rescued him, feeling like he could finally breathe. And for some inane reason, he wondered if he planted his nose into this woman’s hair, would it smell just as liberating as the wheat fields had.

As the woman handed Marcus a large envelope, she turned, giving him a full view of her face. Wyatt choked and spewed out the beer he’d just poured into his mouth, recognizing her instantly. Sutton Masters, war photojournalist and fiancée to his best friend from Ranger school?His now-deceased best friend.

He watched her shyly greet his friends, her mannerisms so unlike the woman he’d once known. He’d met her while serving overseas. She’d been a bull in her quest to capture the story through her photographs. There had been numerous incidents when she’d put her military escorts in danger, disregarding their orders . . . for a picture.

He and his buddy had been on one such detail that went sideways fast because of her. After they’d returned to base, his CO had laid into her. But she didn’t back down. The little badass gave as good as she got.

But the woman who was awkwardly hugging Natalie, was different from the woman he’d once known. After the greeting, she lowered her head and backed away, so unlike the wicked daredevil who went toe to toe with his Colonel. He watched as she excused herself and carefully weaved her way through the tables to the bathrooms.

Curious, he rose and followed her. He had just reached the hall when she came out of the ladies room. Since her head was down and her hair blocked her view, she collided into him.

He grasped her arms to steady her as she stuttered an apology. “Hello, Sutton,” he said softly.

Her head jerked up, startled. Blue eyes that had once been vibrant with life were now muted. An unwelcome ache in his chest occurred as he gazed into them. What exactly had happened the day his friend died?

“Tin Man?”

He nodded. “How are you doing?”

“I . . . I’m good. I didn’t know you lived here.”

He realized he still had a hold of her arms and forced himself to drop his hands. “Yeah, I joined the Nighthawks after leaving the Rangers.”

“Oh.” She swiped her hair behind her ear then hastily let it drop forward again to hide her face. But not before he saw the scar on her temple.

A flowery scent reached him, wrapping itself around him at the most inappropriate time. “You look good.”

A sweet blush rose to her cheeks just before she ducked her head, her hair sweeping forward again to hide her face. “Thanks.”

“I haven’t seen much of your stuff lately. Are you still travelling the globe searching for the next great photograph?” The minute the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could recall them. The color leached from her face and there was a glossiness to her eyes that suspiciously looked like tears.

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