In his sleep, Dylan shifted to face her. In repose, he looked younger. It took Emmy a while to realise what the difference was, and then she worked it out: he didn’t have that slight air of wariness she was used to.
Someone had hurt him pretty deeply, Emmy was sure. Nadine was the obvious candidate, but Emmy had a feeling that it went deeper than that. Why had he been so resistant to the idea of having a child of his own? Had he had a rotten childhood?
Not that he’d tell her, she knew. Even if she asked him straight out. He was way too private for that, and it was surprising that he’d already let this much slip to her.
Finally her two-hour watch was over. She checked Tyler’s temperature again. Good. It was definitely going down. She reached over to lay a hand on Dylan’s arm. His skin felt so good against her fingertips. Soft and smooth. Tempting her to explore further.
Get a grip, Emmy Jacobs, she lambasted herself silently. This isn’t about you.
She patted his arm lightly, but it didn’t wake him at all. She shook his shoulder, and there was still no response. Dylan was clearly in a really deep sleep. And he had taken the first shift; he must’ve been exhausted. She decided to leave him sleeping for another hour, then tried to wake him again. This time, she climbed out of bed and went round to his side, so she could shake him harder without waking the baby.
In response, Dylan reached out to her and mumbled something she didn’t quite catch. It sounded like ‘Mmm, Dee’.
‘Dylan,’ she said in an urgent whisper.
‘Mmm,’ he muttered. This time, he actually pulled her into his arms and snuggled closer.
Oh, help.
If it weren’t for the baby lying next to him, she could be oh, so tempted. All she had to do was to move her head slightly and her mouth would touch against his. She could kiss him awake. See where it led them.
But he’d said ‘Dee’, and she had a nasty feeling that he was dreaming about his ex. Mmm, Dee. Nadine. They sounded the same, mumbled in sleep. And how stupid she was to think that Dylan would get over his wife that quickly. He was obviously still in love with his ex. Yes, there was a definite attraction between the two of them, but physical attraction wasn’t enough. Her relationships never lasted. If she had a fling with Dylan, it would make everything way too complicated. She really couldn’t do this.
She managed to resist the temptation—only just—and wriggled out of his arms.
‘Dylan,’ she said, more loudly this time.
He woke with a start and looked at her in utter confusion. Then his expression cleared as he obviously remembered where he was and why. ‘How’s Tyler?’
‘Still a little bit warm, but nowhere near as hot as he was. He’s asleep.’
‘Good. Is it three o’clock?’
‘Four.’
He looked shocked. ‘You were supposed to wake me at three.’
‘Dylan, you sleep like a log. I couldn’t wake you.’
He grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. OK. I’ll take the next three hours and I’ll wake you at seven, not six, OK?’
‘OK.’ She was still feeling slightly lightheaded; but that had to be from lack of sleep. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way Dylan had pulled her into his arms and held her close. Did it?
* * *
Emmy looked absolutely shattered, Dylan thought—and no wonder, since her shift had lasted longer than his. He felt guilty about it, and lapsed into silence to let her sleep. He touched Tyler’s forehead, just to check; she was right, the baby felt cooler.
He shifted onto his side to watch the baby. Emmy had turned away from him to sleep, but he could still feel her warmth in his arms. When she’d woken him, for a moment he’d been confused and thought he was back in his old house, the one he’d shared with Nadine before he’d moved into the Docklands flat. It had seemed natural to draw her closer, hold her.
Hopefully she’d forget about that by the morning. He didn’t want her to think he was coming on to her, because it could make things so awkward between them. And he didn’t want it to go back to the bad old days, when they hadn’t got on.
Funny, sharing a house with Emmy hadn’t been like sharing with Nadine, even in the early days when he and Nadine had been happy. With Emmy, he didn’t feel any pressure. He didn’t have anything to live up to, because they’d started from the lowest possible point and thought the worst of each other.
And these past few months had been a revelation. He’d been so sure that he didn’t want a family. That he didn’t want to risk things going wrong and for his child to grow up as unhappy as he’d been. Even when Nadine had given him an ultimatum, his feelings hadn’t changed and he knew he’d made the right decision.
Yet, ever since he’d become a stand-in father, things had been different. Over the months, he’d grown to love his godson. He loved seeing all the little changes every day, hearing the little boy’s vocabulary grow from a simple da-da, ba-ba, through to ‘Dih-dih’ for Dylan and ‘Ehhhm,’ for Emmy, and sounds that resembled real words—like the time in the butterfly house when Emmy had been convinced that he’d said ‘fish’. He enjoyed seeing Tyler’s anticipation as they read through a story and were about to reach his favourite bits. He enjoyed the simple clapping games Emmy had taught him to play with the little boy.
And Emmy herself...
There was the rub.
She was Tyler’s stand-in mother. Dylan’s co-guardian and housemate.
They were well on the way to becoming friends. He enjoyed her company, and he thought she enjoyed his, too. And, although they’d agreed to have alternate weekends off from childcare, in recent weeks they’d ended up spending a fair bit of those weekends together.
It felt like being a family. What he’d always said he didn’t want. And what he’d discovered that, actually, yes, he did want. Very much indeed.
She shifted in bed, turning to face him, and he held his breath.
Spiky Emmy, the cynical and brittle woman he’d loathed so much in the past, wasn’t here. This was sweet, gentle, soft Emmy. Vulnerable Emmy, who’d had her confidence chipped away by exes who couldn’t see her for who she was, only what they wanted her to be. Emmy, who didn’t really believe in herself.
Dylan could see her for who she was. And he liked her. More than liked her.
But could he ask her to take a chance with him—to make their unexpected family a real one?
It would be a risk. A huge risk. It had gone wrong with Nadine; he couldn’t make any promises that he’d get it right, second time round, with Emmy. And he knew she shared similar fears, given that she’d been let down in the past.
Somehow he’d have to overcome those fears. Teach her that he wasn’t like the men she’d dated before: that he saw her for who she was and he liked her just the way she was. And then maybe, just maybe, they’d stand a chance.
A WEEK LATER, Emmy opened the thick brown envelope that had just been delivered, to discover an early copy of the glossy magazine that had interviewed her.
‘Ty, look—it’s Aunty Emmy’s feature,’ she said, waving the magazine at him.
Tyler was much more interested