Public Secrets

cheek.
“Here we go, mates.” Johnno laid a hand on Brian’s shoulder as the nominees for Song of the Year were announced.
Emma held her breath, then let it out on a laugh when she heard Brian McAvoy and Johnno Donovan. “Congratulations.” She swung her arms around both of them. “Oh, I wish I could have handed it to you.”
“Next year,” Johnno said, giving her a quick, hard kiss.
“It’s a promise. It’s important,” she said, squeezing Brian’s hand. “It means something. Don’t let what happened spoil this for you, or for me.”
“No.” He relaxed, and when he smiled she watched it reach his eyes. He threw an arm around Johnno’s shoulder. “Not bad for a couple of aging rockers.”

“Mind your adjectives, Bri.” Johnno winked at Emma. “Jagger’s older.” He lifted a brow when he heard the knock on the door. “Ah, the call of the gray-eyed, infatuated copper.”
“Shut up, Johnno,” Emma said pleasantly as she hurried to answer with Conroy at her heels. “Michael.”
“Sorry it took so long.” He dragged on the dog’s collar to keep him from leaping. “Okay?”
“Sure.” She leaned down, the beads of her evening dress glinting, to rub between Conroy’s ears. “We were just passing out congratulations. Da and Johnno won Song of the Year.”
“No, we were just leaving.” Bev was already picking up her wrap. If ever she’d seen a man who wanted to be alone with a woman, it was Michael. “There’s a pot of tea in the kitchen,” she added, flicking a glance over her shoulder to get the others moving. Before Emma could protest, she pulled her close. “Time’s too precious to waste,” she murmured. “Michael.” She put her arms around him. “Thank you,” she said quietly. And pulling back, smiled. “Welcome to chaos.”
They made their way out, one at a time, while a disinterested Conroy sniffed around, then went to sleep in the corner.
“They’re quite a group,” Michael stated when the door finally closed. “No pun intended.”
“Yes, they are. You’re not going to mind having dinner with the lot of them tomorrow, are you?”
“No.” He didn’t give a hang about tomorrow. Only tonight. The way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she smiled at him. “Come here.” He held out his arms. When she was in them, he found he couldn’t let go. In the hours that had passed, he’d thought he’d calmed himself. But now, holding her, it all crashed down on him.
He’d almost lost her.
She could feel his rage building, degree by degree. “Don’t,” she murmured. “It’s over. It’s really over this time.”
“Just shut up a minute.” He brought his mouth to hers, hard, as if to convince himself she was whole, and safe, and his. “If he had—”
“He didn’t.” She lifted both hands to his face. “You saved my life.”
“Yeah.” He backed away, digging his hands into his pockets. “If you have to be grateful, could you get it over with fast?”
She tilted her head. “We haven’t had much of a chance to talk.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come back with you.”
“I understand. Maybe it worked out for the best, gave us both a chance to settle.”
“I haven’t been able to pull that off yet.” He could still see her, teetering on the edge of the roof. Wanting to block the image, he turned to pace the room. “So, how was your day?”
She grinned. It was going to be all right. It was going to be just fine. “Dandy. Yours?”
He shrugged, kept moving, picking up little odds and ends and setting them down again. “Emma, I know you’re probably tired.”
“No, I’m not.”
“And the timing sucks.”
“No.” She smiled again. “It doesn’t.”
He turned back. She looked so beautiful, the dress shimmering down, the light from the fire catching in her hair, glowing on her skin. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. We haven’t had a lot of time to let things just happen. I’d like to say that I’m ready to give you that time.” He picked up a crystal butterfly, then set it down. “I’m not.”
“Michael, if I wanted time, I’d take it.” She stepped toward him. “What I want is you.”
After a long breath he took a small box out of his pocket. “I bought this months ago. I’d wanted to give it to you for Christmas, but I didn’t think you’d take it then. I’d figured on being traditional, having a candlelight dinner, music, the works.” With a half-laugh, he turned the box over in his hand. “I guess it’s a little