One Secret Night, One Secret Baby

A chuckle rumbled from Emma’s throat. “I know all about Brooke’s tactics. I work with her.”

“Hey!” Brooke said. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Like I said, Emma’s a diplomat. Thanks for the drink.” He lifted his glass in mock toast and then pivoted around and walked away.

“He’ll be okay,” Brooke said, watching him head back to his guests. “We just have to do whatever it takes to help him along.”

Dread formed a tight knot in Emma’s stomach. She hated keeping secrets from Brooke. They usually shared everything. But how exactly could she come out and say, I begged your brother to sleep with me the night of the blackout and all I remember is his body on mine, heated breaths and sexy words whispered in my ear. She didn’t remember how she got in bed or when he left her that night. She couldn’t recall how they’d ended things. Were there parting words recognizing the big mistake? Or had he promised to call her? He had no knowledge of what they’d done, but geesh, she didn’t recall much of that night, either.

“Oh, brother,” she mumbled.

“What?” Brooke asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

* * *

“Brooke, you did a wonderful job today,” Callista said, leaning her arms over the granite island, spilling her cleavage and smiling her billion-dollar smile. The sun was setting and all but one guest had left the memorial service. “You helped make the day easier for your brother.”

“It wasn’t just me, Callie,” Brooke said. “Emma did her fair share of the work and we’d both do anything to help Dylan get through this day.”

Callista’s gaze darted Emma’s way as if she’d just noticed her standing there. Hello, I’m not invisible. “Of course, you, too, Emma.” She spoke to her as if she were a child. What was it with rich powerful women that made them feel superior, just by right of wealth? Emma could probably run circles around her SAT scores. “You did a marvelous job.”

“Dylan’s a special guy and I’m happy to help.”

Callista gave her a cursory nod, eyeing her for just a second as if measuring the competition, and then turned away, writing her off.

“Brooke, do you know where Dylan is? I want to say goodbye to him and tell him his eulogy was touching.”

“Yeah, I do. He said to say goodbye to you for him. The day tired him out. He went to sleep.”

“He’s in bed already?” Callista straightened and her gaze moved toward the hallway staircase. She knew exactly where Dylan’s bedroom was. “Maybe I should go up and wish him good-night.”

“He, uh, needs uninterrupted rest. Doctor’s orders.” Brooke’s accomplished smile brought Emma a stream of silent chuckles. Leave it to Brooke. She was in defense mode now.

“Yes, of course, you’re right.” She nibbled on her lip, shooting another longing glance at the staircase. Then her expression changed. “He does need to rest up so he can be back on set as soon as possible.”

The SEAL movie had been shut down for a month already and it was costing the studio big bucks, so Dylan’s return to the set was essential. Even Callista recognized that fact. “Tell him I’ll call him.”

“Will do, Callie. I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Callista said.

“I don’t mind.”

After the two left, Emma couldn’t contain her laughter. She knew for certain Callista Lee Allen hated to be called Callie, yet she let Brooke get away with it because she was Dylan’s sister.

What a day it had been. Selfishly, Emma was glad it was over. She didn’t like walking around with a cloud of guilt over her head. She hoped “out of sight, out of mind” would work on her. As soon as she left Dylan’s house, maybe her head would clear and she’d be free of this grating bug gnawing at her to tell Dylan what happened between them.

Finished with her duties, the house clean and back to normal, thanks to Maisey and her efforts, Emma took a seat on one of the many white leather sofas in the living room. A pastel pop of color fading on the horizon grabbed her attention as she looked out the window. The sunset was beautiful on Moonlight Beach. She leaned back, closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the waves breaking on the shore.

“Mission accomplished,” Brooke said, clapping her hands. “She’s gone.”

Emma snapped to attention as Brooke sat down beside her. “You’re a regular Mama Bear. Who knew?”

“Normally, Dylan can take care of himself, but right now, he needs a little help. What else are meddling little sisters for anyway?”

“To keep conniving women away from him?”

“I try my best.” Brooke propped her feet on a cocktail table and sighed. “I’m getting excited about the celebrity golf tournament coming up. This is one of the biggest events we’ve ever booked. And we got it all on our own. No intervention from Dylan. They don’t even know he’s my brother. Dylan doesn’t play golf.”

“I don’t?” Dylan walked into the room looking adorably rumpled. It was the five-o’clock shadow, the mussed-to-perfection hair and those deep blue bedroom eyes that did Emma in. He wore a pair of black sweats and a white T-shirt.

“No, you don’t,” Brooke said, eyeing him carefully.

He grinned. “Just joking. I know I don’t play golf. At least I have memories of tanking every shot. Never did get the hang of it.”

“Brat. What are you doing up?”

On a long sigh, he ran a hand down his face. “I can’t sleep. I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you guys later. Thanks again for everything.”

Brooke’s mouth opened, but he was out the back door before she could stop him. “Darn it. He’s still having dizzy spells. Will you go with him, Emma? Tell him you’re in the mood for a walk, too. He already thinks I baby him enough.”

Emma balked. She was three minutes away from escaping to go home. “I, uh...”

“Please?” Brooke begged. “If you’re with him, he won’t get it into his head to start jogging. I know he misses it. He’s been complaining about not doing his daily runs. It’s almost dark on the beach. He could collapse and no one would know.”

It was true. The doctor said he shouldn’t overdo any physical activity. How could she deny Brooke the peace of mind? She’d been worried sick about her brother lately. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“That’s why I love you.” Brooke sounded relieved.

Emma bent to remove her heels and rose from the sofa. “You better,” she said. “I don’t chase handsome A-list movie stars for just anyone.” With that, she walked out the back entrance of Dylan’s mansion, climbed down the stairs, searched for signs of him and took off at a jog when she’d seen how far he’d already traveled.

“Dylan,” she called, her toes squishing into wet sand as she trudged rapidly after him. “Wait up.”

He turned around and slowed his pace.

“Would you like company?” Her breathing ragged, she fibbed, “I feel like a walk, too.”

“Let me guess. Brooke sent you.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I just felt like taking a walk?”

His mouth lifted in a dubious smile. “And maybe the moon is green.”

“Everyone knows the moon is made of cheese, therefore it’s yellow.”

He shook his head, seeming to relinquish his skepticism. “Okay, let’s walk. Actually, I would like your company.”