“I won’t run into a bind.” His jaw was set as he spoke those firm words. He meant it. Dylan was a big enough star that schedules could be woven around his needs, and not the other way around. But still, she wasn’t going to crumble if she did the mother thing alone.
“Brooke wants to go with me on an appointment later on,” she said. “She wants to be a part of it, too.”
“I’d like that. She’ll be an amazing aunt.”
Emma smiled. They both agreed on that. “She’s been very supportive.”
Dylan nodded. “What do you think of this Royce guy she’s been dating? Is he the real deal?”
Ah, finally the conversation was moving away from her. She was glad for the distraction. “I haven’t met him yet, but there’s a bouquet of red roses on her desk at work that says he’s an okay guy. She’s seeing him tonight, as a matter of fact. She missed him like crazy while she was away.”
Dylan made a grunting sound before he sipped the sparkling water the waiter had just delivered. “That always scares me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I want to see her happy. She’s been disappointed before.”
“Haven’t we all,” Emma blurted. And then squeezed her eyes shut but not before witnessing Dylan’s brows lift inquisitively.
“I know.”
She gave him a look that must have revealed her astonishment because his baby blues softened immediately. “Brooke told me about a guy in college you were seeing.”
“When did she tell you that?” The witchy tone in her voice made her mentally cringe. She didn’t mean to sound so darn defensive.
“A while back. I’m not prying into your life, Emma. I wouldn’t put Brooke in that position, and if I want to know something about you, I’ll ask you up front. But actually, my sister mentioned it a few years ago and I never forgot it because I thought you deserved better than a jerk who would verbally abuse you. I guess it always stuck with me. I sorta wanted to punch his lights out.”
Emma pictured Dylan knocking Derek Purdy to the ground and grinned. “You’ve always been protective.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a friend looking out for a friend.”
“I’ve always appreciated that.” That was the truth. Dylan had never failed to be her champion when he was around. He had a thing for the underdog. It was quite commendable actually, but right now with her baby situation, she didn’t want to be considered the underdog, or lacking in any way. “But it’s old news now, Dylan. I’ve forgotten about him.”
The meal was served and that part of the conversation ended. Emma dug in with tepid gusto, keeping in mind the capacity of her shrunken stomach and the queasiness that might rear its ugly head at any given moment, despite what she’d told Dylan. She didn’t trust her gut not to act up. She was just getting used to the idea of eating a full meal and not paying the price afterward.
“It’s delicious,” she said. Steam rose up from the sizzling cheese and the garlicky scents made her mouth water.
“It’s not too ostentatious for you?”
“The eggplant?”
His eyes twinkled with that you-know-what-I-mean look.
“The place.”
“Let’s see. I’m eating off handmade Intrada dinner plates while being serenaded by a sole violinist. The Waterford cut crystal and white rose centerpiece is a nice touch. Adds class to the joint. Nope, I’d say it’s right on par with Vitellos back home.”
He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin. The gleam in his eyes became even brighter at her sarcasm. “How do you know all this stuff?”
“You’re forgetting what I do for a living. It’s my job to know about dinnerware and crystal and high-end table dressing.”
“Right. I didn’t put it together. You’re good at your job. But you’re not comfortable with all this, are you?”
“It’s fine, Dylan. I have no complaints. If this is what it takes to cheer you up, then I’m all for it.”
Dylan’s smile faded a bit as he reached for her hand. “You are what’s cheering me up. I enjoy being with you, Em. And I brought you here not to impress you, but because I knew you’d enjoy the food.”
Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. She had no humorous comeback. “Oh.”
She got a little more lost in his eyes. It was hard not to; those eyes could drown a lesser woman and she was certainly not immune. The clarity in them astounded her. Dylan knew what he was about, amnesia or not. There was no limit to his confidence, yet he wasn’t arrogant or prissy. He was kinda perfect.
And that scared her more than anything.
“Maybe...uh, maybe you should have some wine now.” She would if she could.
He shook his head, not breaking eye contact. “Not necessary.”
“You’re cured?”
He chuckled, the smile cracking his face wide-open. “For the moment, anyway.” He squeezed her hand a little and a shot of adrenaline arrowed up her arm and spread like wildfire throughout her system. What was he doing to her? She’d come here to boost his spirits, not fall under his spell.
He glanced at her half-eaten plate of food. “Finish your meal, sweetheart.” And he released her hand just like that, leaving a rich hum of delight in the wake of his touch. She filled up with deliriously happy hormones. “We’ll talk about dessert when you’re through,” he added.
Dessert? She felt as though she’d already had a decadent helping of chocolate-espresso gelato with cherries on top.
The Dylan McKay Special.
And nothing was sweeter.
* * *
When they got back to her apartment, she made a feeble attempt to get inside with some semblance of grace and dignity. “Really, Dylan, you didn’t have to walk me to my door,” she said, her back to the front door and her hand on the knob.
His brows lifted and a lock of straight sun-streaked hair fell across his forehead. She was tempted to touch it, to ease it back into place and run her fingers through the rest.
“I never drop a lady off at the curb, Emma. I certainly wouldn’t do that to you. You know that.”
She did. But she couldn’t invite Dylan in. She didn’t have willpower to spare right now. Yet she knew that’s exactly what he wanted. “Well, now you’ve earned another gold star.”
“I have many.”
She imagined a black-and-white composition book filled with pages of gold stars. But she had to be kind in her not-too-subtle brush-off. “Thanks again for dinner. You must be tired after the day you’ve had. You should go home and turn in.”
“I will soon enough. But you’re not safely inside yet.” His hand glided over hers to snare the key from her fingers. “Here, let me.”
She nearly jumped from the contact and her hand opened. When he took the key, she moved away from the door and allowed him to insert it into the lock. With a twist, the door clicked open.
“Thanks again,” she said breathlessly, again pressing her back to the door.
He leaned in so close she caught the slight scent of musky aftershave, a heady mixture that stirred all of her erotic senses. Oh, boy, she was in trouble.
She pressed her head against the door, backing away from him and staring at his lips that were coming way too close. “What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you a proper thank-you, sweetheart.”
“The eggplant was thanks—”
And then his mouth came down on hers. Not roughly or aggressively, but not with tender persuasion, either. It was perfectly balanced, a kiss that could mean a dozen things that were not necessarily sexual. Yet as she raised her hands to push at his chest, he deepened the kiss, giving it more texture and taste, and the balance she relied on was starting to disappear. Her arms fell to her sides; there would be no shove-off-buddy move on her part. How could she think of ending something so amazing?
His hand came up beside her head, his palm flat against the door, and the darn thing moved, making her clumsily back up a step, then two. He followed her, of course, his lips still locked with hers, and the next thing she knew they were inside her dark apartment and breathing heavily. Dylan broke the kiss momentarily to guide her backward some more and then kick the door shut with his foot.
“Imagine that,” he whispered. “We’re inside your apartment.”
“Uh-huh” was her brilliant comeback. She was too enthralled with his mouth, his tongue and the wonderful way he used them on her to think straight.
And then she felt his hand on her belly. Only someone who knew her intimately would notice the slight bulge above her waist. His fingers splayed out, encircling the whole of her stomach, and a throaty sound emanated from deep within his chest. “I’ve wanted to touch you here, Em. It’s okay, isn’t it?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“I know it’s not ideal, but, Emma, if there was ever a woman to carry my child, of all the women I know, all that I’ve been with, I’m glad it’s you.”
There was a compliment in there somewhere. Emma understood what he meant, but there were still issues, lots and lots of issues. She pulled away from him. “I’ll turn on a light.”
Before she was out of his reach, he was gripping her wrist and tugging her back to him. She landed smack against his chest and gazed up at his face, which was steeped in shadows. “Don’t, Emma. You’re safe with me. Don’t be afraid.”