“You make me feel good, mobster, and you can stop worrying. I’m not going to crack up on you. I promise.” Emma put her hand on Cain’s thigh and squeezed. “I’m a little off balance, but no postpartum depression. I just want to be with you as often as possible.”

“If that’s the case, we should talk about having a few more.” She was joking, but Emma glanced at her, looking hopeful.

“Do you mean that?”

The question surprised Cain, but not really. Emma loved children as much as she did.

“I keep telling you that I’ll gladly welcome all the children you’d like to have with me. You can’t ask me not to worry, though. That’s part of my job, and I can’t help it since you’ve gotten the worst part of these bruisers we end up with.” She didn’t care how crowded the restaurant was—she put her glass down and pressed her hand to the side of Emma’s cheek. The kiss was as passionate as she ever got in public, but she couldn’t hold it in. “You are the most important thing in my world, so take some time before we decide.”

“Let’s let Billy turn one, and then I’ll be ready again. I think the best sign that one more is a great idea came when your brother’s gift to us at the sperm bank was one of the things that survived that damn hurricane.” Emma slid her hand up a little, really close to her crotch. If she hadn’t promised Emma dinner, they’d be on their way back to the hotel by now.

“Excuse me, Ms. Casey,” their waiter said softly as if really loath to bother them. “There’s a diner who says she knows you and would like to come by and say hello if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” Emma said for them, but not moving her hand.

Cain was as surprised as Emma looked when Judice O’Brannigan came to their table looking hesitant. Their first conversation—when Judice had admitted she’d had Cain’s father’s child—hadn’t gone well. Fiona O’Brannigan was a New Orleans police detective, and Cain still didn’t know if there’d come a day when she’d accept Fiona as family. As a sister.

“I hate to intrude, but I didn’t want to be rude and not come to say hello.” Judice was a petite beautiful woman who’d spent most of her life in California being sheltered by Cain’s cousin Colin Mead.

“Judice, please sit and have a glass of wine with us,” Emma offered. “What brings you to Chicago?”