One Secret Night, One Secret Baby. Charlene Sands
for her cheek, her entire body relaxed. Of course, heâd give her a sisterly kiss on the cheek. She closed her eyes.
His warm lips came down softly.
On her mouth.
Oh, sheâd died and gone to heaven. His lips were warm and giving and soothing. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brazenly returned the kiss. Wow. It was all so new. And exciting. Dylan McKay was kissing her on Moonlight Beach at sunset and she was fully in the moment this time. There were no gaps of memory from a fuzzy brain. There wasnât anything but right now, this speck of time, and she relished the taste of him, the amazing texture of his firm lips caressing hers, the strength and power of his body close to hers.
But something still seemed slightly off with his kiss. She couldnât quite put her finger on it. Was it just that she was fully aware, fully attuned to him right now?
Dylan broke off the kiss first, and instead of backing away, he grasped Emma to his chest tightly like a little boy needing the comfort of his favorite stuffed toy. Elmo or Teddy or Winnie the Pooh.
She stood in his embrace for long moments. He sighed and continued to hold her. Then his mouth touched her right earlobe and he whispered, âThank you. I needed your company tonight, Emma.â
What could she say? Was she foolish enough to think he remembered their night of passion and wanted more? No, that wasnât it. Dylan needed comforting. Maybe what she considered to be a heart-melting kiss, only counted as a friendly measure of comfort for a man whose life was full of adoration. At least, she could give him that.
Her secret was safe.
âYouâre welcome, Dylan.â
Glad to be of service.
Dylan wasnât himself. That had to explain why heâd kissed Emma as though he meant it. Actually, he had meant it in that instant. She was familiar to him. He knew the score with her, his sister Brookeâs best friend. Someone he could trust. Someone he could rely on. The meds he was taking lessened his headaches and he was recovering, feeling better every day. But having a chunk of his memory gone affected his decision making and confidence, made him vulnerable and uncertain.
But one thing he was certain about: kissing Emma had made him feel better. It was the best kiss heâd had in a long time. It packed a wallop. He knew that without question. Those big green eyes that sparkled like emeralds wouldnât steer him wrong. Heâd needed the connection to feel whole again. To feel like himself.
Had he gotten all that from one mildly passionate kiss? Yeah. Because it was with Emma and he knew his limitations with her. She was untouchable and sweet with a side of sassy. So heâd kissed her and let the sugar in her fill him up and take away the pain in his heart.
âYouâre quiet,â he said to her as they walked back toward his house. âWas the kiss out of line?â
âNo. Not at all. You needed someone.â
He covered her hand with his again and squeezed gently. âNot just anyone, Emma. I needed someone I could trust. You. Sorry if I came on too strong.â
âYou...didnât.â
But she didnât sound so sure.
âIt was just a kiss, Dylan. Itâs not as if you havenât kissed me before.â
âBirthday kisses donât count.â
She was quiet for a second. âI didnât have a lot of affection when I was younger. Those birthday kisses meant a lot to me.â
He gave her another quick squeeze of the hand. âI know. Hey, remember the face-plant kiss?â
âOh, God. Donât bring that up, Dylan. Iâm still mortified. Your parents went to a lot of trouble to make that cake for me.â
He chuckled at the image popping into his head. âDamn, that was funny.â
âIt was your fault!â
Dylanâs smirk stayed plastered on his face. He couldnât wipe it clean. At least his long-term memory was intact. âHow was it my fault?â
âRusty was your dog, wasnât he? He tangled under my feet and in that moment I figured it was better to fall into the cake than snuff out your dog. I wouldâve crushed that little Chihuahua if my full weight landed on him.â
âWhat were you, twelve at the time?â
âYes! It said so on the birthday cake I demolished.â
Dylan snorted a laugh. âAt least you got to taste it. It was all over your face. The rest of us just got to watch. But it was worth it.â
âYou shouldâve given me my birthday kiss before your mom kindly wiped my face clean. Then maybe you wouldnât have felt so deprived. The cake was good, you know. Chocolate marble.â
âOh, donât worry, Em. I wasnât deprived.â
She stopped abruptly, taking a stand in the sand, pulling her hand free of his and folding her arms across her middle. âWhatâs that supposed to mean? You enjoyed seeing me fall?â
The phony pout on her face brought him a lightness that he hadnât felt in more than a week, since before the accident.
âOh, come on, Miss Drama Queen. It was many moons ago.â And yes, he knew stuntmen, Roy included, who couldnât have done a better pratfall. It had been hilarious.
âMe? Drama queen? I donât think so. Iâm standing here, looking at a true-life drama king. Mr. Winner of two Academy Awards and God only knows how many Golden Globes.â
âThree.â He grinned.
She rolled her eyes. âThree,â she repeated.
He walked back to where sheâd made her stand and grabbed up her hand again, tugging her along. He liked Emma Rae Bloom. Sheâd had a tough life, raised by neglectful foster parents. Just by the grace of all good things, sheâd become his sisterâs best friend, and thus, a member of the McKay clan.
They were almost back to his house. It was sundown, a time when the beach was quiet but for the waves washing upon the shore. Moonlight illuminated the water and reflected off the sand where he stopped to face Emma. âWell, youâve succeeded where many have failed this week, Em. Youâve put a smile on my face.â
Her pert little chin lifted to him, and he balked at the urge to take her into his arms again. To kiss that mouth and feel the lushness of her long hair against his palms. She was petite in size and stature, especially without shoes on, and so different than the tall lean models and actresses heâd dated.
He wouldnât kiss her again. But it surprised him how badly he wanted to.
He pursed his lips and went with his gut. âHey, you know, Iâve got this charity gig coming up. If the doctors say Iâm good to go, Iâd love for you to join me for the meet and greet at Childrenâs West Hospital.â
Emma turned away from him now, to gaze out to sea. âYou want me to go with you?â
âYep.â
âDonât you have agents and personal assistants to do that sort of thing?â
âEm?â
âWhat?â
Tucking his hands in his pockets, he shrugged. âItâs okay if you donât want to go.â
She