She nodded and set down her fork. “Well, that settles it then.”
Okay, good. One of them was thinking straight. She’d drawn the line in the sand, and neither of them would cross it. That was the smart thing to do. The right thing. The only thing, so he nodded, hoping like hell his disappointment wasn’t showing.
“Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re fired.”
He blinked, compliant when she stood and pulled him to his feet, then stepped close and looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he’d never been able to resist. She went up on tiptoe and, hands to his chest, brushed her lips to his.
A simple touch, and his heart thundered in his chest. He wondered if she could feel it beneath her hand, but then he could wonder about nothing because she kissed him again, deeper, and his brain ceased functioning. God. Her mouth, her taste . . .
When Emma pulled back, Simon’s first instinct was to tighten his hold on her as they stared at each other. He finally cleared his throat. “That was a long time coming.”
“What, me firing you?” she asked innocently.
That got a laugh from him. “Smartass.”
She smiled and stopped his heart.
Maybe, maybe if they’d never kissed, he could’ve walked away. He wanted to believe that, but it was too late now.
Her smile got bigger. She knew. “You wanted that too,” she said.
“Hard for a man to hide it.”
She let her gaze run over his body and took a shaky breath when she discovered that yep, indeed, he was hiding nothing.
“Emma—”
“Shh.” She bit her lower lip and stared at him some more. “I need to see something.” She slid her hands up his chest and into his hair, kissing him again, a little less tentative, a whole lot more intense. With a rough groan, he hauled her in closer and kissed her back until they were both breathless.
After, she pressed her forehead to his chest and took a deep gulp of air. “Holy cow.”
“Yeah.”
Her fingers tightened in his shirt. “No, you don’t get it.” She lifted her head. “This is . . . um. Well, I don’t really even know how to say it.”
“Emma, it’s me. You just say it. Whatever it is.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “So . . . you’re the first person I’ve felt even a tingle with that didn’t have to do with damaged nerves.” She paused. “You know, downstairs.”
His reaction to that had nothing to do with being a PT and everything to do with being a man. Not ready to acknowledge that given where they were, he smiled and teased, “Downstairs . . . ?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “If you laugh at me and my downstairs—”
He caught her hand just as she whirled to walk off. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he dropped his voice to a barely there whisper as he looked right into her eyes. “I would never, ever, ever laugh at your downstairs. Drop to my knees and worship at it, yes. Laugh, no.”
She stared up at him, eyes a little glazed over. Then she blinked and shook it off. “You’re lethal in close.”
Simon smiled.
Emma looked away, inhaled, and then looked back. “I haven’t felt much like a woman in a long time. What I went through, it’s . . .” She searched for a word. “Dehumanizing.”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “From the first moment I saw you, Emma, you were all woman.”
She drew a shaky breath. “Thanks—even if you’re just being nice, I appreciate it.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No. You’ve omitted or redirected, but never lied.”
“I’ve omitted the statistics and chances for you to run again because they weren’t encouraging, which wouldn’t have helped you. I’ve misdirected when you’ve been on a self-destructive path.”
“So . . . for the greater good and all that?”
“Yes,” he said, knowing she was teasing him, but he wasn’t. Not about this, not about her.
“Well,” she said lightly. “Okay then. Great chitchat, thanks.”
Again he pulled her back when she turned to go. “Remember the other night when I said you were in the driver’s seat?”
“Yes.”
“You still are. Always will be. Nothing happens unless you want it to.”
“And only if we’re not working together,” she said clearly.
He nodded.
She continued to stare up at him, thinking so hard he could almost smell something burning.
“Good to know,” she finally said.
Which didn’t tell him much. He had no idea which way she was going to go with this thing between them. And then she whispered his name.
“Yeah?” he whispered back.
“You’re still fired.”
SIMON CONSIDERED SKIPPING that night’s ball game because his home care help had called in sick. And with Alison still at work, he had no one to sit with his dad on the bleachers. But he also didn’t have a sub, and he didn’t want to let the guys down. So he and his dad piled into the car and headed to the park.
When they got out, Simon looked his dad in the eyes. “Remember. Ali’s running late. All you have to do is sit on the first row of the bleachers and wait for her.”
Dale eyed the bleachers and scratched his jaw. A sure tell that he was up to no good.
“I mean it, Dad. No wandering off. No telling tall tales. No—”
“No living. No enjoying myself. Got it, son. Just sit here and wait for my terrible horrible death.”
“Dad.” Simon rubbed his left eye, which was twitching. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Life hurts, son. Get used to it.”
A truck parked next to them and Ryan got out and smiled. “Hey, Mr. A. How are you feeling?”
“Like I could handle first base. Gonna sub me in?”
Ryan grinned. “We might. If your son sucks.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Simon said.
“Right,” his dad said, “because the only fun to be had is yours.”
Simon sighed.
Ryan eyeballed them both. “Okay, I feel like I missed something.”
“Simon kissed the new girl and he liked it,” Dale said.
Simon stared at his dad in shock. “What did you just say?”
Ryan’s eyes had nearly fallen right out of his head. “What new girl?”
“The cutie pie neighbor he moved into our building,” Dale said. “Oh, and she’s a patient of his too. Coma Girl.”
“She has a name,” Simon said, giving his dad a dark look. “And how do you know all this? Shit, don’t tell me. You saw Kelly yesterday at PT.”
Dale scratched his jaw again.
“Let me guess. You just remembered she also told you not to tell me she told you.”
Ryan was cracking up big-time and leaned into Dale. “What else do you know? Tell us everything.”
“I know he’s mooning over her like a lovesick puppy.”
“Keep talking, Dad, and I swear I’ll put you out to pasture.”
Dale grinned. He knew an empty threat when he heard one. “I also know that even after all she’s been through, she’s sweet and kind and funny. Kelly said she’s a keeper. So you tell me, boys, how many keepers have you two met?”