Page 16 of Sterling Heat

“Yeah, but I still don’t remember her.”

“That’s really awful,” I scold at his indifference to the nurse and any memory of them together.

His gaze lifts, holding on my eyes. “I’m a bad man.”

Why would he say such a thing? It’s shitty that he doesn’t remember some woman he clearly shared a moment with, but he’s not a bad guy. Not at his core. I don’t believe he’s a terrible person, despite his defensive tone, like he wants me to think poorly of him when I can’t.

He clears his throat. “So, you really don’t have a name for the baby?”

“I was torn between Adara and Ember.”

He hums. “Do they mean something special?”

My head tilts, surprised by the question.

“My mother gave us all names that mean something. Stone. Clayton.” Sebastian watches me. “Those are my two oldest brothers, and the names are obvious. Stone and clay. Then Knox which means hill and Ford which means water.” His mouth curls slightly. “Only Judd and I have ambiguous names. We joke that Judd rhymes with mud.”

“And what does Sebastian mean?”

“Earth.” He shrugs. “So pretty much dirt as well.”

I smile, doubtful his mother considered him dirt.

“Then Vale, is short for Valentine, but fits the whole nature-scape thing.”

“Vale is your sister?” Slowly things click into place. Her whining at him. His insistent rejection. Their overall banter, like they were siblings, which they are.

“Didn’t we mention that yesterday?” He slips his hands in his back pockets.

“I was a little preoccupied.” I give him another soft smile.

“So, baby names? Ember seems obvious to me. But Adara?”

“My name means flame. Both baby names mean fire. She’s my candlelight in dark times.” I swallow and clear my throat as I’ve said too much. “Anyway, I’ve been calling her Cookie since I found out I was pregnant and it’s kind of sticking with me as well.”

“Why Cookie?” he chuckles, the sound rough as if from disuse.

“The first person I told I was pregnant was this guy in a bakery and the nickname came to me there.”

His shoulders relax and I hadn’t realized he’d been so tense. His expression shifts. The edginess softens to something smoother, something gentler. His mouth curls more than I’ve ever seen. Is that a smile? If he lets those lips curve to full wattage, he might blind me with a grin.

“Yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah.”

The door to my room opens with a rush and Sedona looks almost harried. “I’m back,” she announces breathlessly, holding up a green plastic container. Her gaze falls to the bouquet. “This is the best I could find for the flowers.”

“Thanks.” Sebastian rounds the bed and heads to the bathroom for water.

Sedona follows his retreat with longing in her eyes before turning back to me. Sheepishly, she lowers her voice and inquires. “So, is he the father?”

The question feels rather personal, intrusive even, however, I have already been asked about the father’s name for the birth certificate. I’ve been tight-lipped about the paternity of my baby and specifically stated to leave that line blank.

Before I answer with an irritated, “That’s none of your business,” Sebastian returns and rounds the bed again, peeling the plastic from the flowers and setting the arrangement in the container. He sets the collection on a ledge by the window.

“Sedona,” Sebastian announces her name like he’s calling roll in a classroom. “We have a name for the baby. Adara.” He glances at me for approval.

Adara it is, then.