Page 102 of Sterling Heat

I don’t believe buried treasure exists in my house. I don’t see how it’s possible. “How much money could we even be talking about?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Who knows? A small drug deal could make a couple hundred, maybe a few thousand. Over time, it could lead to a lot. Or maybe someone had a big payout and stashed it there for a while. It’s hard to know.”

“A few thousand?” I don’t see the value in seeking out money from over a decade ago in a house newly rebuilt without much trace of the original footprint.

Sebastian watches me, eyes intense. “To a small-time dealer or an addict, a couple thousand is like millions. Every penny counts to make a dollar.”

While Seamus was the bad boy in our family, I worked hard to remain the good girl. I hadn’t considered how deeply troubled, or deeply in trouble, he might have been until years later, when we were older. He’d come to me for money. Lance was furious when I gave it to him, arguing I was enabling my brother and his habit. I might have been, but I also wanted my brother to eat, which was often his excuse. I fell for his lies out of guilt. Guilt that I was who I was—educated, successful, goal-driven—while he was who he’d been. A drug addict. Probably homeless. Eventually, my brother was estranged from the family. The authorities finding my parents upon his passing is a wonder. Sebastian and I remain quiet as Adara nurses. When she finishes, I place her between us on the bed. Sebastian rolls to his side to give her more room and I slip down to my side mirroring his position. For a few minutes, we breathe in her sleeping form. Her tiny body. The subtle beat of her heart. Her entire life is ahead of us. Or at least for me, but I so want Sebastian to be part of the journey.

“When you look at her, I don’t know how you couldn’t be awed, excited even, for all the stages of her future.”

Sebastian snorts. “My life was so fucked up as a kid, I can’t even imagine what those stages should look like.”

“What was messed up?” I already know most of his story, but I still want him to tell me more specifics.

His forehead furrows, like he’s thinking. He doesn’t look at me but stares at Adara. “My mom died when I was too little to remember her. But there were moments as I grew up that I missed her. The idea of her.” He doesn’t blink while watching Adara sleep. “I told you how Clint’s mom taught me how to bake. She was the only mother figure I’d known. When my dad found out, and I tried to explain how I missed my mother, I cried. He told me I wasn’t allowed to cry for her because I didn’t know her. He also said I was a pussy for being so weak and learning a girly skill. That’s when the first smack happened.” He swallows. “After the next few, I toughened up. Knox often intervened.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Sebastian closes his eyes.

“Losing your mother. Losing your friend’s mother. Even losing your father, long before he died. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”

I want to cry on Sebastian’s behalf. It isn’t fair to ask a child not to mourn his mother, whether he knew her or not. The idea of her must have been confusing and disheartening because he hadn’t known her. He had no memory of her. And when he’d received the kindness of a friend’s mother, he’d been cut off from her kindness. Belittled for it, punished for it.

No child should be smacked. Period.

“You never told me what happened to your father.” I keep my voice low, sensing the topic of his dad is very sensitive.

“He killed himself.” Anger and spite fill Sebastian’s voice. Not a trace of regret, or ounce of sorrow comes with the memory of his father’s death. He exhales deeply, watching Adara again. “I’m worried I’ll be like him.”

“Never.” Shock fills my throat, choking me. There is no doubt in my mind. “You’ll never be like him, Sebastian. You’re the most caring, considerate, patient man I’ve ever known.”

He finally looks up at me, ready to refute my compliments.

“And this right here.” I point at Adara. “She is love. And you are meant to be a father, if for no other reason than to prove he didn’t break you.”

Sebastian stares at me and I want to say more. I want to tell him how my decision to become a mother came about. How I was hurt by Lance and tired of the pity. She was with a man for eleven years, but they never got married. Not even a proposal. Screw everyone else. I didn’t need a man to have a child. I could parent on my own. I would be a great mother. A supportive, loving, present parent.

Sebastian’s phone rings, like the crackling of glass, breaking the serious moment. He shifts to reach for it on his nightstand. “Hello.”

Adara stirs and I place a hand on her belly, feeling her little heart beneath my palm. She’s my reason for everything.

“I’ll be right down.” Sebastian hangs up and tosses the blanket off him. He stands, wearing a fresh pair of boxer briefs and turns to me. He’s a work of art. A true masterpiece of muscle and skin and tattoos. He’s opposite everything I thought I’d be attracted to and yet I’ve never felt the pull so strongly to another human being.

“I got a delivery. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I nod, unable to find my voice as I drink in his body. Watching him dress is almost as sexy as watching him undress. He comes to my side of his bed and presses a quick kiss to my lips then lays his hand on Adara’s head a second. When he’s out the door, I take a minute to collect my thoughts.

And still my heart.

Because I’m in love with a man who doesn’t want what I have.

+ + +

After I’ve used the bathroom and tugged my hair into a messy bun, I dress and bring Adara into the living room. The door to the bedroom where Knox slept is ajar giving me a view of the rumbled bed.

Within seconds, the door at the bottom of the stairs opens and I hear two male voices.