The thought brought heat curling low in her belly and the night came rushing back. She couldn’t forget the feel of his arm around her. Such a simple thing, yet so profound.
Things were shifting between them. The hard edge was softening. Her heartbeat sped up at the thought of seeing him this morning. How would he react to last night? What look would flash across his candid brown eyes when he saw her? Seeing his soft side left her conflicted. What else lay beneath the façade? Those were very dangerous ponderings. The last thing she needed was to get involved right now, least of all with her sister’s best friend and lover.
Pushing the thoughts from her mind, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then rose from the bed and crossed to the crib. Hands on the railing, she bent over it. “Morning, sweet girl.”
Chubby little cheeks spread into a wide grin. At six months old, she now had four teeth, all gleaming at Emma when Annie cooed, holding her arms out.
“Come on, pretty girl.” She scooped her up and laid her on the bed. After changing her diaper, she settled Annie on a hip. “Let’s go make you some breakfast.”
When they entered the kitchen, a piece of paper taped to a cabinet above the coffeemaker caught her attention. Her name was scrawled across the top in Dillon’s careful handwriting.
EM—
Make yourself at home. Coffee’s in this cabinet, mugs are to the right of the sink.
She couldn’t help grinning. Only a fellow coffee addict would be sure to tell someone where to find the goods.
Janey told me once you liked bagels, so I stopped by the store while you slept. They’re in the fridge. Please call Doctor Marley and make an appointment. Not too early. I’m usually not up before noon.
—Dillon
On the bottom of the note was a phone number she assumed to be the doctor’s.
She smiled, unable to help wondering how late he stayed up last night. That he remembered she liked bagels touched her. More so that he actually went out to get her some, in the middle of the night, no less. After setting Annie on the floor where she could keep an eye on her, Emma went about the task of making breakfast for the two of them. She found the bagels in the fridge and set one into the toaster. Then she brewed coffee for herself and prepared Annie a bottle and a small bowl of baby cereal.
At half past eleven, she was getting Annie ready for a nap when the sounds of running water came from the back of the house. The water turned off by the time she’d settled a sleeping Annie down into her crib. Walking back to the kitchen to clean up the lunch dishes, Emma tried her hardest not to envision Dillon completely naked in his room.
She stopped cold when she emerged from the hallway. Dillon stood in front of the coffeepot, spooning grounds into the brew basket wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his lean hips.
“Morning, Em.” His tone was so casual she almost wanted to laugh.
“Um…hi,” were the only words that would leave her desert-dry throat.
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down, unable to stop her gaze from sliding over him. Every inch of the man looked to be solid muscle, from the wide expanse of his shoulders and back down to the thick thighs peeking out from the bottom of the towel.
“I’m making coffee. You want some?”
She ducked her head, pinched the bridge of her nose, and counted to ten in a vain attempt to force her overheated mind to focus.
“Em?”
At the clear question in his voice, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, only to wish she hadn’t. Dillon had twisted at the waist to face her. His chest was a solid wall of smooth, contoured muscle. A patch of dark hair sprouted between his pecs. A line of softer, finer hair ran down the center of his stomach and disappeared beneath the towel. God help her. The man had a six-pack.
Focus!
“No.” Did her voice squeak? She cleared her throat. “No coffee. Thank you.”
He nodded and turned, crossing to the fridge. There, he pulled out a water pitcher and moved back to the coffeemaker. She swallowed hard and tried not to follow his trek across the room. Tried not to focus on the way the muscles in his back and arms shifted and bunched when he lifted the pitcher.
Or how very much she wished that towel would lose its grip on his waist.
Oh, God. She had to distract herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about him this way.
Say something. Anything. “Thanks for the bagels. And for putting me to bed.”
“You’re welcome. Couldn’t leave you to sleep on the couch.” Dillon shot a smile over his shoulder while he filled the coffeemaker with water. “Always gives me a crick in the neck. Did you call Doctor Marley’s office this morning by any chance?”