The Playboy's Baby(33)
“You’re not. You’re leaving her with me.” Hands stuffed firmly in his pockets, he crossed the room and leaned a hip against the counter beside her. The soft, delicate scent of her perfume wafted to him in the small space between them. The warmth of her body called to him.
She glanced at him, eyes wide and vulnerable, and he thought he’d lose his mind. The need to touch her was near overwhelming. “He hates me. He thinks she’s a ploy on my part to get to you.”
“I know Pop can be a little…hard to handle.”
She crossed her arms and frowned. “Rude. The man is rude.”
Dillon sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for that. Surely you don’t think I’d let him, or anyone else, hurt her?”
She lowered her gaze and shook her head again. “No.”
“Em, you’ve watched me diaper, bathe, and feed her. Made sure I can get her in and out of her car seat. I’ve prepared bottles and cereal and heated the jarred food to the perfect temperature. I have nine-one-one, poison control, my mother, you, and Doctor Marley all on speed dial. We’ll be fine. I promise.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Remembering her quiet confession the day before, all his good intentions, his desire not to touch her, flew right out the window with the soft, shuddering breath she let out. He cupped her chin in his palms, tipping her face to meet his. “I know you don’t want to leave her, but you have to go back to work and I need to do this. I need you to trust I want what you want—what’s best for Annie. You trust my mother, don’t you?”
Emma nodded. “She was there for me and Janey when my mother died.”
He let his thumbs swipe over her skin, took in the guilty pleasure of its silkiness beneath his fingers. “Ma can be here in five minutes if I need her. Any time of the day or night. You heard what she said.”
She stared at him, eyes reaching, searching, vulnerable and open, and yet filled with a soft heat that called to him. He dropped his hands and reached for her hips, instead, tugged her against him, for the simple need to soothe the worry from her eyes.
When she actually leaned into him, pressed her warm body into his and laid her head on his chest, he thought for sure he’d lose his mind again. He craved this the most, her trust, the openness she exuded when they touched. She let her guard down then, and every muscle tightened in response. The memory of their kiss flitted through his mind. The taste of her mouth, her soft, supple lips beneath his. Her quiet moan and the feel of her lifting onto her toes to kiss him back. Never in a million years had he expected Emma to respond that way.
She lifted her head and peered at him, confusion warring with the heat in her eyes. A breath later, she stiffened against him, dropped her gaze and pulled out of his embrace.
“I may call you ten times a day.” Eyes downcast, Emma went back to the list. He didn’t miss the way her hand trembled when she picked up the pen on the counter.
He let out a quiet, nervous laugh, and rubbed the back of his neck. He took a step back, his body cold without the warmth of her against him. “I’m okay with that.”
More than he cared to admit. Every time she called would be one more time he’d get to hear the sweet sound of her voice.
Man, he had a feeling it would be a long few days.
* * *
“It’s snowing.”
Side by side in the living room, Emma followed Dillon’s gaze out the front window. It was a little after four and the sky had already begun to darken. Big fat snowflakes fell from the sky, drifting lazily to the ground. It wasn’t snowing hard, but it was definitely sticking.
“I should leave before it starts to pile up.” A knot of dread formed in her stomach at the thought. She turned back to Dillon, eyeing Annie in his arms, who looked content to stay there with her head lolling on his shoulder. It didn’t seem to matter that she knew Dillon would do the best he could for her, leaving Annie, period, proved harder than anticipated.
Dillon moved toward the front door, snatched a set of keys off a small shelf, and held them out to her. “Take the Escalade.”
One look at the keys and all the implications of his offer flooded her mind. She shook her head. “My car will make it just fine. It was snowing when I came into town too.”
The thought of having to drive his SUV for the rest of the week left an uneasy ball in the pit of her stomach. Never mind the car dwarfed her small sedan, it belonged to him. She wanted—needed—time away from him. To reset boundaries. She couldn’t do that immersed in something of his that smelled like him. She couldn’t forget the taste of his mouth; she’d go crazy driving his car to work every day.