Page 73 of Sterling Heat

He claims he’s been mesmerized by me. He’s enthralled with me, but I’m the one trapped under Sebastian’s spell. I’m the one desperate to show him how good we could be . . . together.

I’ll never be the same. I’ll never want anyone like I want him.

“But I want to—” I tug at the waist band of his jeans.

Adara makes another squeak, the recognizable sound hints she’s winding up for a full-blown cry.

Sebastian softly chuckles and bows his head. “She needs you, baby.”

I need him.

Not just for sexual healing but for everything else I know he could offer me. Offer us. He’d be a wonderful life partner and a perfect father.

The thought has me loosening my hold on his pants and falling back on my heels. These aren’t new musings. Sebastian has been here for me, here for us.

I want him to know I’m here for him.

Leaning forward, his kiss is deep with a strong thrust of his tongue and a sharp nip of my lower lip before Adara’s cry steals the show.

Sebastian rests his forehead against mine. “You get her. I need a minute and then I’ll finish making dinner.”

Dinner. One more positive checkmark on the list of all things Sebastian. With my measly kitchen offerings, he’s making me a meal because I’d been hungry and crabby. And then he did this. He took care of me again, when I was afraid I might be broken.

When I thought I’d never feel desired again.

And I very much want to share my blooming desire with Sebastian Sylver.

I’d also like to steal a sliver of his heart.

Chapter 22

[Enya]

After taking care of Adara, I lead Sebastian to my bedroom where we’ll be a little more comfortable than pressed together on my couch. However, we curl around one another through hours of broken sleep, just breathing each other in, and remaining silent about the line we’ve breached.

He takes the three a.m. feeding like he’s done for the past few days and then slips out for the bakery.

His kiss was incredible. His touch out of this world. The unleashed attraction between us burned like wildfire, like I knew it would. But I still can’t get a few things out of my head, like how Sebastian thinks he doesn’t deserve love. He doesn’t want a family. And I shouldn’t push either on him.

Love and family are my dreams. Still, I can’t help wanting Sebastian to be part of my fantasy and that’s just stupid. He’s been very clear on his stance.

I’ve convinced myself he touched me because he felt sorry for me. He did what a friend might do, only the thought of being friends with benefits with Sebastian sours my stomach. I’m not cut out for casual relationships. Lance and I were together for eleven years because I’m a commitment kind of girl. I want forever, not just-for-tonight.

With these thoughts in mind, I need to get out of the house.

Vale is my savior today with her invitation to the women-only, bi-monthly book club. She told me no one would mind if I brought a baby, especially as little ears won’t understand naughty words. She also told me few people will have read the assigned book for this month’s meeting. With a wink, she said wine and womanhood would be the main topic. I’d feel guilty attending if I wasn’t so eager to be away from my house for a few hours.

Late afternoon, the summer sun is still high in the sky. I park in the public lot before moseying down Corner Street with Adara in her stroller. The streets of Corner and Main are no longer a driving thru-way, but a bricked passage intersecting the two roads. We wander into the clothing store, check out the furniture place, and step into a mercantile with local fare promoting Sterling Falls. I’ve yet to visit the famous waterfall but plan to make a trip when Adara is a bit older.

After exhausting all the stores, I second-guess myself before deciding a trip to the bakery is in order. I could use some lemon cake goodness after dinner. I’m treating myself to dinner at the diner before book club.

The soft jingle of the bell announces our arrival and I struggle with the door before someone seated near the front window jumps up to assist me.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I tease the rugged man who nearly fills the space. Our eyes catch for a second. With sandy brown hair and a thick beard, he’s strikingly handsome, but the polite smile he offers in return doesn’t reach his dark eyes, and a strange chill runs down my spine. I dismiss the tremor as a shift from the heated afternoon to the air-conditioned bakery.

Once inside, I press the stroller forward, watching Rena slam the cash drawer beneath the countertop shut. She quickly buries her hand in the pocket of her folded-over apron before smoothing down the pouch, as if securing something inside.

At my approach, her head snaps upward and a clenched-teeth grin hardens her expression. “Hey. Enya, right?”