“Yes,” she whispered, still averting her eyes.
It seemed that she hadn’t come to grips with it yet. Softly, he brushed fallen locks off her forehead, the tendrils flowing through his fingers like silk, which brought her pretty green eyes up to his. “Well, damn.”
She swallowed.
“Is it okay for me to lift you up now?”
He was holding the top half of her body off the ground. Another few inches and she would’ve landed hard on stone.
“I think so. I’m not dizzy anymore.”
He knew something about getting dizzy. Luckily, that hadn’t happened to him for days now. “Okay, slowly,” he said.
He brought his face close to hers, breathing in a sweet scent that reminded him of lavender. God, he liked her. There was something sweet and real about Emma Bloom. She’d spent a lot of time in the McKay household while growing up and he’d always looked upon her as a second little sister. But now he wasn’t altogether sure why he felt so close to her. Or why, whenever given a chance, he chose to kiss her. It was almost second nature with him lately, holding Emma and kissing her.
Gathering her in his arms, he guided her up, keeping her body pressed close to his. Her breasts crushed his chest and he tried not to think about how soft and supple they felt. Once they were upright, he kept his hold on her. “Do you think you can stand on your own?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“I won’t let go of you completely. I’ll hold on to your waist, okay?”
She nodded. Color had come back to her face. It wasn’t rosy, but she didn’t look like a sheet, either, so that was a good thing.
She was unusually quiet and there was a stark look on her face. Stronger breezes had kicked up on the patio and it was getting chilly. “Let’s go inside.”
He stood beside her now, wrapping an arm around her slender waist. “I’ve got you.” Shoulder to shoulder, they took small steps. They bypassed the kitchen and moved into the larger living room. Dylan stopped at his buttery leather couch, the most comfortable seat in the house, and helped her sit down. Her silence unnerved him. Was she embarrassed, scared, regretful? Hell, he didn’t know what to say to her when she was like this.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m feeling better, Dylan.
“You really should see a doctor.”
She looked down at the hands she’d folded in her lap. So unlike Emma. “I plan to.”
“Does Brooke know?”
She nodded. “I told her just recently.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but what about the baby’s father? Does he know?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
Dylan didn’t want to stick his nose into her business, but Emma hadn’t led a charmed life. The kid didn’t deserve to go through this alone. Dylan wasn’t good with stuff like this, but she was here and had fainted in front of him. With Brooke gone for a few more days, Dylan had to step in. “I’m not taking you home until I’m sure you’re feeling better.”
“Dr. Dylan,” she said, her lips quirking up. Signs of the real Emma Rae Bloom were emerging.
“Your friend Dylan.”
She looked away.
“Let me get you some water. Hang on.”
He left the room, and when he returned with a glass, Emma’s eyes were closed, but there was no peace on her face. He sat down beside her quietly and put the glass in her hand.
She turned to him then and whispered, “Dylan...I need to talk to you.”
“Sure. Okay. I’m listening.”
Her chest heaved as she filled her lungs, as if readying for a marathon. And then she began. “You know how I was raised. My foster parents weren’t very attentive, but they gave me a home. They fed me and I had clothes on my back.”
They were reckless and selfish bastards. Heavy drinkers. But Dylan wouldn’t say that.
She sipped water, probably needing fortification, then went on. “I was about ten when Doris and Burt went out to the local English pub one night. You might remember the one on Birch Street.”
He nodded. “Darts and hard ales. I remember.”
She gave him a quick smile. They had the same roots. Only, hers were laden with weeds instead of the pretty poppies little girls deserved.
“They’d put me to bed early that night and told me to stay there,” she continued. “I knew they probably wouldn’t come home until very late. What I didn’t know was that the electricity had been turned off that day. They hadn’t paid their electric bill, so when a bad storm hit that night I trembled every time there was thunder. And the erratic lightning really freaked me out. None of the lights in my room were working. I remember how black it was. And there were noises. Crazy, scary noises, shutters flapping against the house, wind howling, shrubs brushing against the outer walls sounding like devilish whispers. I ran downstairs, clicking as many light switches as I could find. Nothing worked. And then I remembered Burt kept a flashlight in a little storage closet under the stairs. S-somehow...s-somehow...as I climbed into that space, a gust of wind or something...slammed the door shut behind me. I was locked in that tiny dark space all night.”
“Oh, man, Emma,” Dylan said, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. Her face was stone cold, as if reliving this memory had frozen her up inside. He could only imagine her terror that night. He had no clue what this had to do with her pregnancy, but he listened. Maybe she needed to get this off her chest. She could use him to unburden herself if that’s what it took.
“It was the longest night of my life. I sobbed and sobbed most of the night, quietly, though, in case those devilish sounds materialized into something evil. My folks finally came home. It was almost dawn when they found me cowering in that closet. They told me everything was all right and that I’d be okay. Only, I wasn’t okay. From then on, being in dark places has always screwed with my head.”
“It’s understandable that you get frightened. Those memories must be horrible for you.”
Her lips tightened as she bobbed her head up and down.
He waited for more. A moment later, her sad eyes lifted to his. “Flash forward about sixteen years. It was the night of the blackout...my neighbor Eddie was having a big birthday bash on the Sunset Strip. It was one round of drinks after another. For the first time in my life, I indulged. In a big way. My friends kept my glass refilled until I was feeling no pain. My fuzzy head went on the blink, and unfortunately so did the lights. Before I knew what was happening, the entire club went black. I couldn’t see a thing out the windows, either. Then I heard the rain. It wasn’t a downpour, but it didn’t have to be, just the steady pounding on the roof was enough. I freaked and began trembling uncontrollably. Luckily, I had Brooke on autodial, or I wouldn’t have had the coordination to make the call. I couldn’t reach her... She didn’t answer.”
Dylan leaned in, nodding his head. “Go on, Em. Then what did you do?”
Her eyes squeezed shut. This was hard on Emma but it was probably good for her to purge this memory. “When I couldn’t reach your sister, I panicked and gave my phone to someone sitting on the floor next to me.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “My friend punched in your number.”
“My number?” he repeated, and his forehead wrinkled as he scoured his memory for an inkling of recollection. Nothing came to mind.
“Yes... I...I thought Brooke might be with you.”
His mind was a blank wall when it came to those days. “I don’t remember.”
Her eyes watered and she gave him half a smile, one of those unhappy smiles that tussled with his heart. “I was so scared.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You came to rescue me. I just remember thinking Dylan will come. If he says he will come, he will come. He’ll get me out of here. I couldn’t wait to get out of that place.”
He could’ve caught flies when his mouth dropped open and stayed that way. “What happened next?” And why didn’t she tell him this before? She knew he was trying to piece together those lost hours before the blast.
“It’s fuzzy, but I remember you finding me in the dark and carrying me out of there. You drove me home and...and...”
She gazed into his eyes then, and it hit him with dazzling clarity. He blinked rapidly several times. “You’re not saying...”
She hadn’t said anything yet. But a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. And he knew what she was going to say, not because he remembered it, but because she’d given him the full picture of her life leading up to that moment. And he was cast in the starring role.
“I wouldn’t let you leave, Dylan.” Her head down, she began shaking it. “I begged you to stay with me. I was scared out of my wits. The whole city was pitch-black and you knew I would freak out if you left me, so you agreed, and then...we, uh...”
“We made love?” He couldn’t believe he was asking Emma, his little sister’s friend, this question. Emma, the efficient one. The one always in control, the one who never took risks, never strayed from the straight-and-narrow path. Emma Rae Bloom. He’d bedded her?
Her eyes were filling with unshed tears. “It was my fault.”