Alison looked at her uncle. “You know you were hard on Simon growing up, really hard.”

“Hey, the boy was bound for trouble. He needed direction, discipline, and sometimes a keeper.”

Alison shook her head. “He was smart, driven, focused, and needed to know you loved him.”

“Would’ve made him soft.”

Alison just rolled her eyes. “You know I’m right. You were awful to him.” She pointed at her uncle. “I know you loved Aunt Jenny. I know you love me. I even know you love your stubborn-as-hell son. But it’d be nice if he knew it too.”

“Phfft.”

“I give up,” Alison said and dug into her food until her phone buzzed with a text. She eyed the screen and sighed. “There’s a security issue at one of our buildings.”

“Go,” Dale said.

“I can’t. I promised Simon I’d stay until he got home.”

“I could stay,” Emma said.

Alison paused, looking torn.

“You don’t trust me,” Emma guessed. “But I did just share my food with you.”

“That has nothing to do with trust.” Alison scrubbed a hand down her face. “But I don’t see a choice here, so fine. You’ll stay until he’s in bed? You have to make sure he looks you right in the eye and promises not to get up or cause any trouble. And check that his fingers aren’t crossed.”

Dale snorted. “A guy sneaks out one time . . .”

Alison glared at him. “You walked to the corner drugstore, bought a pack of cigarettes, and then smoked them on the walk back. You got apprehended by a cop for smoking in a no-smoking zone, and you very nearly got arrested for refusing to put out the cigarette.”

“I’d just bought it!”

Alison tossed up her hands.

Emma was soaking all this up, aching because she missed her parents. These guys bickered and fought and loved as crazily as her family did. “I’ve got this, Alison.”

“You’ll make him promise?”

“Want it in writing?” Dale asked dryly.

Alison didn’t take her eyes off Emma. “I’ve got him,” Emma said. “Go.”

Alison nodded and turned to leave, but then hesitated. “Thanks. You know, for doing this for me.”

The words sounded like they’d been torn from her throat. “You’re welcome,” Emma said. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Dale.”

“Understood.”

When she was gone, Emma and Dale finished eating and then did the dishes together, joking that Emma’s good right hand and Dale’s good left made them one whole person. Dale entertained her the whole time by telling bad dad jokes that continued to the bedtime routine. She waited in the hallway while Dale showered.

“What’s the difference between snowmen and snowwomen?” he yelled from the bathroom.

“I give up.”

“Snowballs!”

Emma laughed in spite of herself and was grateful when he came out fully covered in pj’s, top and bottoms. “What now?” she asked him.

“I’m going to go watch my shows in bed, where I hereby solemnly swear I’ll stay put. I’d ask if you could join me, but that’s on the list of things I’m not supposed to say to anyone, especially females.”

“You’ve got a whole list?”

He nodded. “It’s in the notes app on my phone. Alison and Simon keep adding to it. Mostly Simon. He’s got a lot of stupid rules. Stuff like no more online poker games and no driving. He’s ridiculously strict.”

“Sounds like maybe he learned from the best.”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, his expression rueful. “Yeah.”

“Good night, Dale.”

“Night.” He started into his bedroom, then turned back. “I like you for him, you know. You’re sweet and kind, but I suspect you’ve got a backbone of steel.”

“Along with some platinum and titanium,” she quipped.

“Tough too.” He smiled. “Yeah. You’ll do.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh.” He walked into his bedroom and shut the door. “Night, Coma Girl,” he said through the wood.

Emma smiled. “Night, Dale.” She turned to leave and ran smack into Simon.

“Hey,” he said, putting his hands on her arms to hold her steady. “What are you doing here?”

Good question. She couldn’t remember what excuse she’d given herself to knock on his door knowing he wasn’t home. Curiosity? Nosiness? “Wanted to thank you for the lights,” she said. “They’re lovely.”

He smiled and she soaked him in. Dark jeans, a button-down. Jaw dark with sexy scruff. Eyes holding a look of hunger . . . all of it hot as hell.

“Where’s Alison?” he asked.

“She got a business call and had to leave.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” He shoved a hand through his already tousled hair. “She should’ve called me, not conned you into helping.”

They hadn’t talked since they’d kissed, and she was trying really hard to concentrate on his words, but her gaze drifted to his mouth of its own volition.

“Emma.”

She loved the way her name sounded like a growl on his lips. “Hmm?”

With a low groan, he shifted in close, sandwiching her between the wall and his body. His hands slid along her jaw and into her hair, causing a delicious full-body shiver as he tilted her face up to his.

Yes! Kiss me again!

Simon stared into her eyes, then at her mouth, and with another rough groan, he stepped back, letting his hands fall from her.

“What?” she whispered, her lips tingling from the kiss he hadn’t planted on her.

Expression intense, he held her gaze. “You’re really okay with this?”

Emma’s life goals and fears had changed after the coma. Once upon a time, she hadn’t wanted to make waves. Now, she just wanted to live, waves and all. “If you mean more of the heart-stopping kissing and what hopefully comes after that, then yes please.”

He gave a rough laugh. “Heart-stopping?”

“Like you don’t know.”

Emma felt her pulse kick into gear when Simon pressed every inch of him into her—and he had a lot of really great inches—and finally kissed her. She was well on her way to forgetting her own name when he stopped.