Page 71 of Playing for Keeps

Lucy and Lucas took a big breath together and blew, making the candles go out in a wave. As the room erupted and Aidan took a mocking bow, Lucy immediately darted over to Emma. She was in full interrogation mode, her face dead serious as she peppered Emma with questions about being a writer. Emma laughed and crouched down, chatting with Lucy like they’d been friends forever.

I caught myself watching them a little longer than I meant to. Seeing Emma just slide into the centre of my family, looking like she’d always belonged there, hit me harder than I expected. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been hoping for this, but now that it was happening, I didn’t want it to end.

Grace noticed me staring and shot me a knowing smile. She didn’t need to say anything.

“Cake?” Grace asked, already slicing. “We have chocolate, and chocolate, and…”

“Is one of those chocolate?” I asked, and got a dish towel lobbed at my head.

People passed around slices. Emma accepted hers and passed me mine without looking, which felt incredibly intimate. We ate as if we had never had chocolate before. Lucas asked for seconds with the serious cunning of a diplomat. Lucy plotted where her new book would sit on her shelf. Someone played a song that made Aidan roll his eyes, but he hummed along anyway. Emma shifted just enough to look up at me without really moving away.

“You okay?” she asked in that soft British voice of hers.

“Yeah,” I said. “You?”

She nodded. “I like your people.”

“They like you too.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Very,” I said, kissing the top of her head, unable to stop myself.

Aidan got a lot of gifts, mostly from the kids. There was a lopsided tie, a card with a lot of stickers on it, and a mug that said WORLD’S OKAYEST DAD that made him laugh so hard he cried. He made a show of admiring each one. Grace shook her head and kissed him.

The night slowly wound down. One by one, people grabbed their coats and said goodbye. I leaned down to Emma and whispered, “Ready to leave?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll take you home.”

By the door, I helped her into her coat, my hands finding excuses to stay on her shoulders a little longer than necessary. She turned around and looked up at me, her cheeks pink from the warmth.

She took my hand and squeezed it lightly as we walked out. She said softly, “You looked happy in there. It looks good on you.”

“You did that,” I said. It came out easier than I thought it would.

She stood on her toes for a second and tugged on my coat just enough to make her point. I laughed and bent down to kiss her, right there on the porch.

I parked in front of Emma’s place and turned off the engine. The street was quiet, just one streetlamp lighting the sidewalk. She unclicked her seatbelt and turned to me, her eyes warm. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

She kissed me before I could say anything. It wasn’t a polite, goodnight kiss; it was deep and hungry. Her lips were hot against mine, and her tongue swept in like she wanted to steal my breath. I groaned, a mix of surprise and desire coursing through me, kissing her back just as hard.

When she pulled away, I stared at her, dazed, my chest rising and falling like I’d just skated another period. “I’ll walk you to your door,” I said, my voice rough.

She smiled a wicked little smile. “Or,” she said, her eyes shining, “you could walk me inside.”

I swallowed hard, and my heart started to race. The way she was looking at me left no room for doubt. No hesitation. Just a clear, deliberate invitation.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding before I could think twice. “Yeah, okay.”

The front door clicked shut. Emma took off her coat and cardigan, letting out a sigh of relief as she stepped out of her heels. I kicked off my shoes behind her and stared at the long line of her back, watching the loose fabric skim over her curves.

Before she could turn, I stepped in close, my chest brushing her back. My hands slid around her waist, pulling her close against me.

“Straight to business, huh…?” she started, but her voice broke when I bent down to kiss the side of her neck.

It wasn’t just want – it was a hard, aching hunger that had been building for weeks and hit me all at once. She tilted her head, giving me more room, and I groaned against her skin, tasting the faint scent of her perfume.