Page 109 of Engulfing Emma

“What if nothing. You’re over-tired and your mind is racing with what-ifs. So just stop it and relax.”

“But—”

“Shh. No talking.”

Touching her does nothing to get rid of my erection. Her smooth skin feels incredible. Her moans remind me of other times I’ve elicited the same noises from her. But I don’t let my hands stray from her shoulders. She needs this more than I need a release.

I lose track of time but eventually realize she’s gone still. The back of her head is resting against my stomach. She’s fallen asleep. I carefully pick her up and carry her back to her room, laying her on the empty bed next to Evie’s.

I half expect the girl to wake up. It seems like she’s always awake when her mother and I get into a compromising position. And me carrying Emma to bed in her nightgown is most definitely a compromising position. But she doesn’t. I gaze at her for a while, noticing how much she looks like Emma. The curve of their noses is identical. Their hair color is a dead match. Even the way they sleep is similar.

For the first time, I think of how jealous I’d be if Stefan wanted a relationship with Evie.

I want to be the only man in her life. Just like I want to be the only man in Emma’s.

Chapter Thirty

Emma

I look at the time. It feels like we’ve been driving forever. “Are we almost there yet?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, it occurs to me how childlike I sounded.

Brett laughs. “We’ll be there soon.”

I am particularly anxious today, maybe because I know we’re running out of options. Two down, two to go. What if neither of them is Evelyn’s father? What then? My daughter, however, is cool as a cucumber.

Brett turns one last corner and pulls into a parking lot.

“Thisis it?” I ask, looking at the old, rundown apartment building that looks like it belongs in some not-so-desirable parts of New York City.

“If the address is correct, yes,” Brett says.

As he finds a place to park, I look at our surroundings. “Is it safe?”

“That’s why you brought me, right?” he says with a wink.

He’s trying to lighten the mood, but I feel myself becoming consumed with grief and regret. I see little hope of this ending up the happy reunion Evelyn has been dreaming of for years. Am I a terrible parent for allowing her to get in this situation?

Kids run around a small grassy area nearby, which makes me feel marginally better. That is, until one of them picks something up off the ground and shows his friend.

“Jesus,” Brett says before running over to them. He takes what looks like a syringe away from the young boy and has a few words with them before going to a trash bin, finding something inside to wrap around the needle, and tucking it into a bag.

I dig around in my purse for my small bottle of hand sanitizer. I hold it out to him when he rejoins us. “Use it all. That was horrible.”

He douses his hands and says to Evelyn, “Don’t touch anything.”

“What did you say to those kids?” she asks.

“I told them to never pick up a needle or it could make them very sick. But I’m not sure they understood me.” He continues to the building. “Let’s get this over with.”

I shake my head, disgusted. What if this is where Stefan lives?

“What’s the apartment number?” Brett asks when we’re inside.

“Two-eleven.”

Evelyn walks ahead of us, eager to get there, but Brett forces her behind him and takes the lead. I’m amazed she doesn’t have a problem with his protectiveness. Every timeItry to do anything to keep her safe, she calls me on it.

“This is it,” Brett says, standing in front of the door.

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