Emma

by Angie Wilder

  “Should I take off my shoes? The sidewalk was clear of snow but…”

  “No need. You look nice.” Sexy. She wore the same black heels from the evening before, the pair that had drawn his gaze like a tractor beam to her legs. Evan dropped his hand from her back, worried he was coming on too hot. She seemed stressed, and his nerves were back. “Can I pour you some wine?”

  Emma nodded at the bottle of malbec, then did a slow turn in his kitchen.

  As he poured, he tried to view the space through her eyes. It was modern and open yet comfortable.

  “It’s spectacular.” Her gaze traveled the room, then settled on Harry as he slunk under the table. Emma’s smile wobbled. She accepted the wine but set the glass on the island without taking a sip, then stared at the hardwood flooring.

  Before he could ask Emma what had her rattled, she blurted, “Evan, I’m freaking out.”

  Oh hell. “Is it the pets? I think they are doing fine.”

  “No, not that.” She stepped to settle in front of him.

  “Is it us?” He ran his hands down her arms, holding her above the elbow, and prayed the answer wouldn’t sting.

  “No. Well, a little. Kissing you got me all wound up.” Emma smoothed her palms around his torso and laid her cheek against his heart. “But that’s not what I meant.” She cuddled against him then peeked up. “Your hugs help.”

  “Anytime, Em. I’m here for you. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s Kaley.”

  “What?” He stiffened and braced himself for the news. “Is she all right?”

  “Yes. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I want to tell you something but I can’t. Or shouldn’t. It’s something Kaley told me in confidence, a secret, but it’s too big. Promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone?”

  He studied her face. Whatever this was had worry etched between Emma’s brows. “Is this a girl code thing?”

  “Yes, but if I tell you now, it’ll be easier for you to deal with the story when it comes out later.”

  “Em,” he groaned, “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I don’t like it.”

  “Kaley is pregnant.”

  This, he already knew. “And…?”

  “The father isn’t Mark.”

  “What?” Evan straightened and stiffened, and Emma’s grip tightened.

  “The baby’s father is someone Kaley cares about. They had one night together while she was on a break from Mark. Her and Mark’s relationship was rocky. Failing, but trying. Honestly, from what she’s told me over the years, I think their breaking up is for the best. She’s not engaged. Mark doesn’t know about the baby, and the father doesn’t know it’s not Mark’s.” As she spoke, Emma leaned her slight weight against him, pressing Evan toward the counter.

  “What? That’s crazy!” With his back against the stone countertop, he looked down into Emma’s concerned eyes. He could see it was all true. His sister had had a one-night stand.

  “Is she sure the baby isn’t Marks?”

  “Yes. They got back together over the phone. The timing left no mystery. As soon as Mark returns, she’ll break it off, and he’ll be out of the picture. Kaley didn’t want to hurt him while he was overseas on a mission.

  “Who’s this other guy?”

  “She wouldn’t give me a name. Kaley is concerned her secret will get leaked. She doesn’t trust coming clean about the father and the news not hitting Facebook or some other form of social media and Mark finding out in the worse way possible. Plus, she knows your family will flip out.”

  “You’re telling me so I’ll be one less family member to flip out?”

  “If it helps, Kaley said that she loves the baby’s dad. They’re friends.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Scared, but hopeful.”

  Evan stood there with Emma burrowed against his body, letting the information sink in. “Are you holding me down?” His lips curved over the absurdity of her pinning him.

  “Yes, and you will stay put because phoning Kaley won’t help. It’ll only make her think I’m a rotten friend, but I’m not. I’m advising you so we can be strong for her. A team she can count on.”

  Emma wanted to be a team? “All right.”

  “All right? This isn’t a trick? You have a tendency to be one of those overprotective brothers.”

  “Turns out it’s calming having a beautiful woman pin me down.”

  Emma snorted.

  “I trust my sister to know her own mind, and if this guy turns out to be a dirtbag—”

  Emma put her fingers over his lips, hushing his words. “Let’s stick with happy thoughts.”

  He dashed his tongue against her palm, surprising them both. It was a silly move. They wouldn’t have thought twice about it as kids, but since last night’s kiss, it took on new meaning. The air thickened between them.

  Em let out a nervous giggle and released him, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry if I ruined the romantic evening you planned.”

  “Who said anything about romance?” He moved toward her, missing her warmth.

  “You, sir, had a mission to dazzle me.”

  “How so?” He did.

  “Take your shirt for a start. It’s opened lower than I’ve ever seen you wear a button-up, and believe me when I say, I’ve paid attention. It’s a fashion most guys can’t pull off.” Emma touched at the closure at the center of his chest. “You can.”

  “Anything else giving me away?” He hoped so because he was enjoying this conversation.

  “What did you prepare for dinner?”

  “Lasagna.”

  She granted him a satisfied grin, as if his answer proved her point. “And how do I feel about that?” Her stance shifted playfully, encouraging flirtations.

  “You find it pleasurable.” He lifted his hand, caressed his thumb against her wrist, and felt her pulse race.

  “And you’re playing Michael Bublé. Sexy jazz is a sure thing.” Em squeezed her eyes closed, looking embarrassed she’d said too much. When she tipped her head up, her hair fell over her shoulders, exposing a tempting spot to brush his mouth against.

  “Is that right?” He made plans to sample that spot before the evening’s end.

  “For dancing,” she censored her comment.

  “Then we should dance.” He captured her hand in his and gave her a twirl.

  13

  Emma’s skin buzzed, and her belly tickled as Evan led her from the kitchen to sway by the light of the Christmas tree. The music’s romantic lyrics, his aftershave, the touch of his hand holding her, overwhelmed her senses in all the best ways and caused her girly parts to tingle with the sexual heat sparking between them.

  Emma tried to take in the impressive great room, the mix of wood tones, expansive windows, and comfortable furnishings, but Evan claimed her focus, spoiling her with his irresistible attention.

  “Em, you’re good at this.” He guided her through the dance steps, their bodies close.

  “I think you might be better.” She was overheated with this slow-burn flirtation they were using to tempt each other over the line, to cross the friendship boundary and resume their kisses from the night before. Emma savored every saucy turn and tender beat of the dance as Evan spun her and led her in tight against his muscular frame.

  “We’ll see.” His gaze lingered on her lips.

  Since their stolen moment in his family’s mudroom, Emma had debated her actions. Had the kiss been the right thing to do? Could she stop her heart from taking everything Evan was willing to offer? Tonight was more than the promised opportunity to see if Duffy and Harry got along. Evan had asked for a real date. It was actually happening.

  Emma would fret about California later. Right now, she was torn between her desire to rest her head on his shoulder or remain with her gaze captured by his. The eye contact had her blood humming. Mere minutes in Evan’s arms and she was dizzy on him, and now…? How long had they swayed that way, fallen drunk with e
ach other’s attention? Their intimacy broke for another twirl, then returned as he slowed to draw her in, breast to chest.

  “Em, you look beautiful.”

  She felt the compliment rush to her core. “I should step out of my heels before we risk injury to your toes.” She moved with the music, mindful of his feet each time his dimple popped out. It was a playful indication that he was about to give her a quick spin, or dip. His warm sweet-talker smile would cause her step to hitch and make her knees go weak. The man aimed that confident weapon with ease. He looked sexy and relaxed, dressed in casual attire. The cuffs of his black button-up were folded over twice, a swath of his strong arms exposed. The shirt was left untucked over his expensive jeans, and he hadn’t bothered with shoes, only dark socks. She didn’t wish to worry over his toes as he dipped her, though she appreciated how her heels brought her lips closer to his. She surrendered to the bowed dance pose. Her knee bent and rubbed against his outer thigh. The action made her dress ride up, and her skin tingle.

  “I like your heels,” he drawled and brought her in closer. The warmth of his torso teased through her dress.

  “More than your toes?” The shoes had to go before she climbed the poor man like a tree. She didn’t know how much longer they could last before they ignited.

  “Since you put it that way, here…” He led her to the sofa. Once she was seated, he kneeled in front of her. “Let me.” His palm cupped her calf, then drifted down to settle on her ankle. His thumb caressed a circle there, against her skin, before his fingers worked at the tiny buckles, freeing the narrow strap. The hair that fell over his forehead skimmed a feathery touch over her knee as he shifted to the other leg. Not in her wildest fantasies had she dreamt Evan would pamper her with this brand of burning seduction. Now that she’d experienced it, she didn’t know how she’d survive without it. In California. “Evan, what’s happening between us…?”

  “I realize it’s complicated, Em,” Evan said, his tone tender with concern. He rose to sit on the sofa next to her and continued, “But that doesn’t mean I want to walk away. I’ve missed you. More than I realized. A lot more.”

  “I missed you too.” She stroked her fingers into his hair, relishing the silky texture, memorizing the details.

  “I don’t want to put pressure on you, but I’m working hard here for one of your kisses.”

  He had to know he didn’t need to try to seduce a kiss from her. He could have greeted her in old gym clothes and served peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner, and she’d be all in on kissing him until the sun rose. She was powerless to resist. In a rush of pure pleasure, her fingertips trailed down Evan’s jaw. She’d waited a lifetime to learn the texture of those smile lines that teased from his smooth shave. “Is that so?”

  “Uh-huh.” The sound of his agreement hummed in a deep, delicious tone. Emma brushed her mouth to the spot where the dimple disappeared. When she pulled back, he cupped her face in his hands. “You missed,” he said in a soft voice and brushed his lips to hers. His mouth moved over hers, claiming her ever so gently, stealing her breath, demanding more.

  He was all she’d ever wanted. Heat pooled in her belly over the glorious tender assault. Her lips parted and silently begged for more. Time slowed as his palms traveled down her back to caress her waist and hips, where he gripped hold. Her fingers curled into his hair, needing, begging. Evan tugged her to him, narrowed the gap between their bodies, and pulled her down to lie on top of him. As she cradled his hips in the valley between her legs, she moaned. It had never been so wonderful. So easy. Was this what it was like to be with a man whom she had complete trust in? His talented hands, his possessive touch, caused her to arch with pleasure. “Evan,” she panted, “be careful of my dress. If the bow gets tugged, the whole thing falls open.”

  He growled against her collarbone, nipping and tasting his way lower. Then he rose, taking her with him. Her legs wrapped around his midriff as he carried her to the kitchen. Evan set her on her feet. “Don’t fall over,” he ordered between kisses, then he released his hold and moved to the oven.

  Jelly-kneed, she clutched the countertop and watched him work.

  Evan turned off the buzzer, removed the lasagna, and tossed the oven mitts aside. “Now, what did you say about this dress?” He ran his finger under the belt and took hold of the tie.

  “It’s a delicate situation.” She placed her hands on his chest and tipped her lips for more, but the brief interruption had cooled her enough to remember California.

  “I’ll be gentle,” he said, causing her body to hum, but not before he sensed her thoughts. He dropped his hands, shifted his hold to her arms. “Or we can stop, Em. I don’t want to pressure you here. Do you want to stop?”

  What she wanted was them. Evan was the only one for her, if even for a short while. She drew him to her in answer. She kissed the tender spot below his ear, then whispered, “I’ve always wanted you, Evan. Always.”

  She leaned back to see his expression. Desire hooded his eyes. His palms skimmed up her arms, over her shoulders, and traced the edge of her neckline to where the dress tied together. Evan played with the bow, taking its ends. Ever so slowly, he slipped the knot loose.

  As he separated the material, her eyes fluttered closed. Emma concentrated on the feeling of his hands as they skimmed over her skin. The material of the dress smoothed over her body as it dropped to the floor. She stood before Evan, her heart pounding, wearing nothing but sheer black lace, waiting for him to claim her.

  The morning was still dark as night. Evan woke with Emma in his arms, her bottom pressed to his thighs. Her hair was a wild tangle spread over his pillow. The oversized T-shirt slipped off over her shoulder, revealing a creamy patch of kissable skin. Emma was beautiful and irresistible. His dinner invitation hadn’t been a play to twist the sheets, but they couldn’t help themselves. One kiss and they were lost to one another.

  Afterward, they laughed over how they hadn’t been able to contain themselves, to calm down enough to enjoy the candlelight dinner and wine. But it was even better this way. Evan had fed Em lasagna in bed. No dinner table setting could match having a lover cuddled to him, legs twined, while they shared a single plate and dueled with their forks for the final cheesy bite. He could dine on her laughter alone. They ate and murmured stories until their mouths were too busy, hungry once again for the pleasure of one another. He had never craved a woman like this. Tasted one so sweet. Laughed with one so hard. Emma pulled him under a spell from which he had no desire to break free. He’d enjoy their time together, while it lasted, before Em returned to California. Since the prospect of her leaving made his stomach knot, he shoved the worry to the corner of his mind.

  Evan pressed his lips to the pretty curve of her shoulder and focused on the present. His fingers traveled under her top to seek the warmth of her silky skin. He caressed circles on her belly. “My sweet, Em.” He brushed a kiss to her temple, and said, “I know you’re awake.”

  “No, I’m not,” she mumbled, turning in his embrace to press her cheek to his chest. “I’m not ready to move,” she said as her fingers came to life, dancing up his body to settle over his heart.

  He glanced at the clock’s red digits. “We have just over an hour before work.”

  “What?” Emma shifted and sat up, her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down the shirt he’d loaned her.

  “You look adorable. You should keep the shirt. Add it to your collection.” He adjusted his position to sit next to her.

  “My collection?” Her brows creased, then smoothed, and her skin turned pink. “You’ve been good about not asking about your jersey.” She nestled her face to the crook of his neck. “Don’t start now.”

  He chuckled. “I love that after last night, I can still make you blush. All that moaning and begging…”

  Emma straightened, her eyes lit with heat as she placed her hand over his mouth. “You have two choices here, Evan.” As she spoke, Emma ran her fingers to trace the contou
rs of his lips. “You can tease me about those scrumptious things we did last night or repeat those activities. Not both.”

  “Is that so?” He chuckled and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Scrumptious activities?”

  “Wait! An hour until work? It’s morning?” Emma’s outburst caused Harry and Duffy to stir, lifting their heads from where they snuggled into the pillows on the floor before they too decided it was too early to rise. “What am I doing here? This is crazy. We’ll be discovered. My mother will figure this out!” Emma stumbled from the bed.

  Living with the folks had its drawbacks when it came to sleepovers. Evan caught Emma by the edge of her shirt, the material bunched and gathered in his fist, and he kept her from running off while providing himself with a tantalizing backside view. “We’ll figure this out together.”

  “They can’t find out! I need my phone. If my momma noticed I didn’t return…” she huffed. Her butt looked cute when it wiggled.

  “Calm down and turn around, Em.” He tugged her backward toward the bed. “Let’s sort this out face to face.”

  She shifted, crawling close, and pointed a fingertip at his chest. “I’m very well aware of what happens when we sort it out on this mattress.”

  All good stuff as far as he was concerned. “And that is what?”

  She snorted, thought a second, then said, “The bed becomes a time machine of delightful carnal pleasures. Now focus. We are in crisis mode.” Her palms moved down to his rib cage, which did nothing for his intelligence. “We need a plan.”

  “So, letting people know we slept together is off the table?”

  “Evan!” She pressed her lips to his shoulder, then tipped her chin towards his ear. Her voice rasped with worry. “Can you imagine the moms? The dads? The endless nosy questions?”

  Evan didn’t care to contemplate their parents while Em was on his lap. Though he didn’t think fessing up, being outed as a couple, would be all that bad. By the panic in her voice, that was a dangerous as hell opinion best kept to himself.