“You and Hairy shouldn’t stay in a hotel and live out of a suitcase for weeks,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. Hoarse, as if he’d had to wrest the words from his throat by force.
She slowly swiveled to face him, stunned into silence. The Sebastián she knew didn’t tell her what she should and shouldn’t do. He didn’t contradict her decisions. Not ever.
“Seb…” What did he want from her? She didn’t have any other good options. “It’s fine. The hotel is decent, and everything we need is in my suitcase.”
He shook his head, mouth tight. “I’m sure you picked a good place, but it’s not as safe as a home, it’s expensive, andit’s not as comfortable for either of you. Stay with me instead.”
Oh, he was such a good man. But for so many reasons, staying with him was a terrible idea. She’d managed to conjure a near-kiss from a friendly gesture today. Goddess only knew what sort of foolish conclusions she’d reach if they spent night after night in the same house.
“I can’t impose on you or Kitty Hendrix like that. But I appreciate the offer.” On impulse, she got up on tiptoe and kissed his smooth cheek. “The hotel will be fine. Don’t worry about us.”
He’d closed his eyes at the contact. “I…”
He struggled for words as she waited. Opened his eyes again. Curled his fingers into his palms, brow pinched.
“I want you to,” he finally said. “I want you to stay with me. Otherwise, I’ll worry.”
Flabbergasted, she stared at him.
“Please.” A vein in his temple throbbed, a telltale sign of his agitation. “Please, Lucy.”
He’d never pleaded with her before. Not for anything. Not for comfort, or assistance, or even the television remote. So what, really, could she say to the man who’d been her faithful friend for over fifteen years?
“Okay.” She swallowed hard. “Okay. If you’re sure, we’ll stay with you.”
He let out a slow breath. “Good. Go get Hairy, and we’ll meet at my house.”
When he sprinted down the steps and out toward their cars, she was too confused to follow.
Self-contained, stoic Sebastián Castillo had just expressed what he wanted in words. Revealed a vulnerability. Admitted an emotion. What in the world was happening?
And did it mean she hadn’t misinterpreted their encounter in the loft after all?
Hairy boundedthrough Sebastián’s house the moment she let him off his leash, tail wagging as he barked with wholehearted enthusiasm. No doubt he’d detected the wonderful smells wafting from the kitchen. But Lucy knew her dog, and not even amazing food—had Seb made that delicious Guatemalan stew for her again?—could elicit this particular brand of fevered intensity.
No, Hairy had realized that Kitty Hendrix, his favorite friend in the whole wide world, was a mere room away, and he wanted to play with her. Now. Also for the rest of his life and well into any sort of doggie afterlife that might exist.
As she and Sebastián had discovered over the past year, that misguided enthusiasm wouldn’t die, no matter how many times Kitty either regarded Hairy with bored, unmoving contempt or swiped at his nose with a disdainful paw.
Poor Kitty Hendrix was going to have a very exhausting couple of weeks. True, she was kind of an asshole. But Lucy still had a sneaking fondness for the cranky feline, probably because Sebastián had let her choose Kitty’s name. He’d regretted that decision, of course, as soon as Lucy announced her pick, but by then it was too late. He was a man of his word.
A faint, surprised yelp echoed from one of the back rooms, and Lucy winced. Poor Hairy never seemed to remember how Kitty rewarded his fervent, lick-intensive greetings.
Sebastián wheeled Lucy’s suitcase inside his house and locked the door behind them. “You’ll stay in the master bedroom. I’ll make some room for you in the closet and dresser, and there should be plenty of space to spread out inthe bathroom. I’ve already changed the sheets and put out food and water for Hairy in the kitchen. Started some pepián for us too, since you must be tired of eating out.”
So bossy. She couldn’t get used to it, not after years of noncommittal responses and a seeming determination to let her guide the relationship at all times.
He wasn’t using that bossiness against her or eyeing her with disdain, though. Wasn’t telling her she’d made a foolish, unrealistic decision, or she expected too much, or apologized too often, or overtipped at dinner. Wasn’t letting her know she was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. Always.
Goddess help her, Jarrod had started out so sweet. So supportive. At first, his corrections had seemed so minor, born out of his concern for her well-being. Over time, though, he’d become more critical, and she’d become less confident, and she’d nearly lost herself.
But Sebastián hadn’t changed, not like Jarrod had. Her best friend didn’t want to undermine her. He just wanted to protect and care for her, as he so often did. Only this time, he was willing to express that desire in words and take immediate action. All to meet her needs.
He didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. He just wanted to cosset her. Feed her.
This type of bossiness didn’t make her feel small. Instead, she felt…cherished.
It was delicious. She wanted more of it.
