His dad got up. “I’m getting water.”
“I’ll get it,” Simon said.
“I can get my own damn water!”
When he’d vanished into the kitchen, Alison looked at Simon.
“I’m going to have to hire someone new to add to the team,” he said. “Maybe two someones.”
“He hates new people.”
As Simon well knew. They’d lost good caretakers because Dale couldn’t be nice.
A crash came from the kitchen.
“It’s okay!” Dale yelled out. “It’s just a glass.”
Simon tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling.
“Hey,” Alison said, putting her hand on his arm. “I’m going to stay and watch Family Feud with him. Go up to the roof. Or anywhere. Take some time for yourself. I’ll get him to bed and make sure he’s settled before I go home.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask, and I want to.”
“Thanks,” he said with genuine gratitude, then slid her a look. “Is this because you don’t want to talk about you and Emma being partners?”
“Probably every bit as much as you don’t want to talk about kissing her.”
Touché.
EMMA STAGGERED TO the top of the third set of stairs and leaned on the roof door to gasp for air. The sun was just barely dipping down behind the bluffs in an explosion of glorious reds and purples. Just looking at it had her relaxing, which was when she realized she’d already caught her breath. The stairs were becoming easier and easier, as was walking, two things she’d never take for granted again.
Sure, she had lingering aches and pains that she knew might never go away, but maybe that was her penance for surviving. Maybe it was supposed to hurt a little. Along that vein, in a moment of insanity earlier, she’d signed up for a 5K in the fall. Three months away. She told herself it wasn’t about proving to Simon that she was back to herself because she was fine and didn’t feel the need to prove that to anyone, even him.
It was about proving it to herself.
With that, she stepped out onto the roof and found the man himself on the love seat, head tipped to the sky, eyes closed. His button-down was a midnight blue, untucked, sleeves rolled up. He’d been shoving his fingers in his hair again. Between that and the roughness at his jaw, he looked disheveled, sexy, and dangerous as hell to both her heart and soul. Feelings stirred, affection and desire both in the lead and tied for first place.
Scary.
A bottle of rum sat in front of him on the coffee table.
Emma walked over, but Simon didn’t say a word. She was trying to decide if he was asleep when he spoke without opening his eyes.
“You’re not out of breath.” His voice was low and deep like he’d been nearly asleep. “You’re doing better.”
She’d started getting up early in the mornings and walking. She told herself she was prepping for the 5K. She’d started with one square block, then slowly expanded. She was up to four blocks, which was exactly how far Jack Swanson lived from her.
But she’d not yet caught sight of him again. “If I’m doing better, it’s thanks to you.”
Simon shook his head, whether to say that he didn’t credit himself with her success, or he just didn’t need the thanks, she had no idea.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” he said.
Emma nodded, not that he could see it. “The only reason to be sorry is if you regret it, and in that case, I don’t think I want to know.”
He snagged her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him. “I’m not sorry for kissing you.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze until she looked at him. “Kissing you was . . .” He gave his head a little shake. “The best thing to happen to me in a damn long time.”
She smiled and he slowly smiled back. “You’re the highlight of my day, Emma.”
“Same.” She waited, hoping he’d make a move, or suggest they pick up where they’d left off the other night. Instead, he gestured to the bottle of rum in front of them. “Would you like a drink?”
“Rum makes my clothes fall off.”
This got her a slow and wistful smile, like he’d really enjoy seeing that, the stubborn, needlessly noble idiot.
“Are you and Alison really partners now?” he asked.
“Looks that way.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“She doesn’t have me. It’s not a personal relationship. Just business. That’s it.”
He gave a small smile. “You’re still serious about no personal relationships.”
She shrugged. “Actually, I’m feeling disturbingly open to one relationship in particular.” One she knew he was feeling leery of and worried about. So she turned to him, carefully tucking her legs beneath her since she was in a sundress. She looked into those deep hazel eyes and saw exhaustion, the kind of soul-deep tired one gets when their world isn’t right. She knew it. She recognized it. She’d felt it every single day after waking up from her coma, fighting her way back to the living. She’d felt it on the first day in the rehab facility where she’d met Hog. He’d been scared, not liking the lights or the slippery floors. Having a down day herself, she’d gotten out of bed and on her knees to hug the huge, shaking dog, and she’d never forget how he’d laid his massive head on her shoulder and drooled down her back while melting into her with relief. They’d been together every day since.
Remembering that first hug now, and how it had literally turned her life from her world revolving around just her misery to suddenly being responsible and in charge of another living being. One simple hug had changed her entire perspective, gotten her out of her own head.
So Emma did the only thing she knew how to do. She climbed into Simon’s lap and set her head on his shoulder. She did not, however, drool.
His arms immediately came around her and pulled her in even closer as he let out a deep, shuddery breath against her temple. “Are you emotionally supporting me?” he asked, sounding amused.
She had her face pressed into the crook of his neck, one of her favorite spots on him because he always smelled so good. “Actually, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
His hands stroked up and down her back, soothing her even though she’d intended to be the soother. “Makes two of us,” he murmured.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talking is the last thing I want to do.” His hands were on her bare legs now. “Which is a hell of a good reason for me to stop touching you.”
She tightened her grip on him so he didn’t get any ideas about being stupid and noble right now. “Or,” she said, “maybe it’s a hell of a good reason to keep them on me.”
“Emma.” Lifting his hand, he cupped her jaw and made her look at him. His gaze was dark and heated. “It’s been a really long day. I’m drained and I’m not thinking straight. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”
“You’d never hurt me.”
He groaned and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m just worried that this is going to get all messed up.”