“Are you kidding?” Dale smiled at her. “You’re always welcome. I knew it’d take someone special to make my son give up the apartment he loved so much. Especially since 1B is also empty and available, although granted, not updated or as nice as 2A.”
Emma turned and looked at Simon.
Shit. He’d not given her the option of the downstairs apartment on purpose, wanting her to have the steps to work on for her recovery. But if there was anything he now knew about Emma, it was that she liked to have choices. “Dad—”
“And,” the man went on, “I knew that special someone would also have to be smart and warm and also willing to go toe to toe with this guy.” He jabbed a thumb in Simon’s direction, ignoring the daggers Simon was sending him. “He hit the jackpot with you, Emma.” He smiled at Simon. “I approve, son.”
Thanks, Dad . . .
“You gave up your apartment for me?”
Nope, not going to go well at all. He looked at her. “I wasn’t using it. I haven’t since my dad’s first stroke.”
“But there was another apartment I could’ve rented. Downstairs.”
“Not renovated or as nice,” Simon said, repeating his dad’s words.
“Admit it, you wanted me to walk up and down the stairs every day.”
“You needed to push yourself past the hump. Which you did. In less than a month, by the way. You’re not even limping anymore and you’re using your left arm and hand more and more every day.”
She looked down and found her left hand holding her water glass; she hadn’t even realized.
“Emma, I pushed you because I knew you could handle it.”
“What would you have done if I couldn’t handle it?”
“I’ve had a lot of patients over the years, but I’ve never had one as strong and determined as you.”
“Or as pretty,” Dale said. “But, son, you could learn a lot from me. Now, granted, most of my experience is from decades ago.” He smiled. “The eighties. Great memories. No evidence.”
“Dad.”
“Right. Okay, well, I’m going to go . . .” Dale hitched a thumb out the door. “Do stuff.”
Simon waited until his dad was gone before looking at Emma again, thankfully still there, feet still bare, eyes narrowed. “For the record,” he said quietly, “I pushed you because I care.”
“Even back then?”
“From the second I first saw you.”
She stared at him for a moment. “At the rehab facility?”
“No, at the hospital. You were still on heavy meds so you probably don’t remember. When I came in, you were talking to your doctor.”
“Wait.” She frowned. “I do remember.” Her voice was full of surprise. “I was wearing a stupid hospital gown and a bunch of tubes and wires, and I was a hot mess.”
“You were beautiful and determined and said you’d do whatever it took to get better. I was bowled over by your tenacity and strength.”
“And I wasn’t talking to my doctor. I was yelling at him.”
He smiled. “Actually, you tried to throw your water bottle at him, but you didn’t have your arms back yet and it just hit the floor.”
She grimaced.
“He deserved it. He was blunt and disconnected,” Simon said. “You were understandably upset, as he’d just told you to prepare yourself for the hard fact that you might never walk again. I was there because they’d requested an initial PT report and plan. And then, when they moved you to the rehab center, I was called in again. I was actually hoping you’d be assigned to Kelly, or anyone other than me.”
“Why?”
He shook his head, still surprised by it. “It was just a feeling. I couldn’t explain it to myself back then. All I knew was that you were special, and that you’d become incredibly important to me.”
She was looking stunned. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“And now?”
“And now . . .” She’d been the first woman who saw his life and got it. Got him. She hadn’t batted an eye when he’d said he and his dad were a package deal. His dad wasn’t a burden to him, but he understood that it was a burden to any relationship he was in. Except Emma had stepped right into their unit, easy as can be. “And I was right. You’ve become incredibly important to me.”
“Because . . . ?” she whispered.
Simon didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Or they’d end up naked somewhere. For days. Only you’d put a stop to that . . .
Emma got up and moved to where he still sat. Standing between his spread-out legs, she looked down at him. “Because I’m not just a job to you.”
“Because you’ve never been just a job to me.” Simon let his hands go to her hips, pulling until she came in even closer.
She stared at his mouth, then into his eyes. And smiled. “Good,” she said. And then she stepped back and walked out to the living room to play cards with his dad.
Chapter 20
Step 20: It’s about the little things.
Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed an evening as much as she had with Simon and his dad. It’d been since before her accident, certainly. But so many of the memories in the years before the accident were still fuzzy. The doctors kept saying it’d probably come back, maybe in pieces, maybe as dreams. The brain was a funny, fickle thing.
How well she knew that.
The body too. Just playing cards, an underlying current of energy bounced between her and Simon, back and forth, back and forth, every time their fingers brushed together reaching for a card, every laugh, every accidental meeting of their gazes. They all played for an hour before Simon helped his dad to bed. Emma went into the kitchen to do the dishes, and a few minutes later, Simon came in eyeing his phone.
“I installed a security camera in the hallway outside his room so I can see if he leaves. It’s also wired for motion and sound, so if he calls out for help, the app will alert me. No more accidents.” He raised his head. “You don’t have to do the dishes.”
“Wanted to.”
“No one wants to do dishes.”
“My brain likes the mindlessness of it when it’s too full of thoughts,” she said.
“Yeah?” He gently nudged her aside and took over, looking very at home cleaning up. And dead sexy too. “What thoughts are making your brain too full?”
Emma shrugged, not wanting to say since they were all erotic, every one of them; thoughts of Simon’s mouth back on hers, his hands on her body . . . “I like how you take care of your dad.”
“Nice deflection.”
She smiled. “My thoughts are feeling shy.”
His eyes heated. “Maybe they’ll come out to play later then.”
“That’s probably against our friend decree.” Yes, she was baiting him.
Simon finished the dishes, dried his hands, and turned to her. “Did I ever mention I say stupid things when I’m feeling emotionally invested? It’s fear.”
“I believe your dad alluded to that for you.”
“He’s superhelpful.”