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"Honey," Susan chided, "she's had three miscarriages."
Sebastian turned fully in his seat. "I feel sorry for her and Evan. Of course I do. But that doesn't give her a license to be a horrible person the rest of the time. She's a lost cause and Evan should get out. Now."
"He's caring for her for the sake of the baby that could be--and the mother that he believes she'll turn into."
He filled his lungs, then let the breath out on a deep sigh. "I just hope he can figure things out. And be happy. Because we all know she isn't making him happy, no matter how hard he tries to make her happy."
"It will work out for him. I know it will." Susan gave him a big smile, which lit up her whole face. "And I can't tell you how happy I am to know you've met someone special."
He leaned over and was kissing her soft cheek, when Bob stepped back on the porch and asked, "What am I missing?"
"We're talking about true love," Susan told her husband.
"Don't push," Sebastian said in an undertone.
"I meant Will and Harper."
"Liar."
She laughed. "Now, how can you say that about an old lady?"
"Because you're not old."
"He's right," Bob said with a grin. "You're my spring chicken."
Bob and Susan were meant for each other. So were Will and Harper.
Was it possible that he and Charlie were too?
Or was he doomed to follow his parents' and Evan and Whitney's examples?
All Sebastian knew for sure was that he'd never felt like this about anyone or anything. Only Charlie. And that had to mean something.
Something big.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Sebastian." Charlie hugged the cell phone to her ear and tried to pretend she was hugging him instead as she curled up on the sofa in the bungalow. "How are Bob and Susan?"
"They're doing great and I'm glad I got a chance to visit." Affection laced his voice. "But I miss you."
"I miss you too." She'd never played coy with him, and she wouldn't start now. He'd been gone only three days, but it had felt like much longer. And even though they'd both been so busy this past week that they hadn't actually managed to see much of each other, when they did, it was absolutely explosive. She definitely wouldn't mind a little more exploding soon. "Was your business successful?"
"Yeah. A good deal all around. I'm heading out first thing tomorrow morning."
She felt lightheaded with happiness at the prospect of his return. Sebastian was a different kind of man. She liked hot, fast, and all-consuming. But what he'd done to her was so much more--because he didn't even need to take her clothes off or put his hands on her to make her feel that way. With Sebastian, she could want, need, and feel half crazy while they were simply hunkered on the floor sifting out the best bits of broken china and discussing their placement in the mosaic.
She'd always believed she worked better alone, but today she'd realized how much Sebastian had been feeding her creativity these past weeks. Between the zillion daily meetings that were an integral part of running his billion-dollar empire, he often called from the office to ask about her progress. Recently, she'd even punched his number on her cell a couple of times to bounce an idea off him. He always answered, no matter what he was doing--and his ideas were always so good that she'd continued to wonder if he had a secret background in art. In the evenings, he marveled at her day's work. She'd come to crave his visits to her studio. Just as much as she'd come to crave his kisses, his touch. Him.
"What are you wearing?" he asked, as if she'd voiced her thoughts.
She gave a mock gasp. "Don't tell me you want phone sex?"
His lascivious chuckle vibrated across the airwaves and started her engine revving. "It depends on what you're wearing."
"Well," she drawled, "I'm getting into the hot tub soon. And I don't have a swimsuit."
"Lord." She loved the passionate growl in his voice. "I wish I were there."
