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He winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “My brothers are busy with their own lives, their own relationships. I’m going to tell them soon. It just seems so final, you know?” He lifts his hands and lets them drop on the legs of his jeans. “And I wanted to hit the list first.” He sighs. “That probably sounds crazy. But I feel like if I can hit the list, then I can breathe a little. Take some time. Like I’ll have the right to put down roots.”
“Everyone has that right, Sebastian.”
He lets out a slow breath. “Elianna, I know what you mean. But for someone like me, someone who’s built something huge from nothing, I don’t know. I guess it’s hard for me to admit this is home.”
Something in me softens. He holds so many burdens. No wonder he’s gruff. He probably thinks if he softens, all of those burdens will drop right out of his arms, uncontrolled. “You deserve a home. You deserve all of this. You’ve worked so hard for it.”
His bottom jaw grates over to one side, and he stares past me to the view below.
“Can I write my name in the concrete?” I ask. “Or draw a little daisy or something?”
He arches his brow. “And mess up my smooth-as-glass patio? No way.”
“I know.” I giggle. “I figured it was worth a try.”
He considers me, his gaze taking me in. “Come here.” He grabs my hand and guides me carefully to an exterior door down the hall. We step back outside and walk along boards and planks until we reach the patio.
“How about this?” He has a stick in his hand. “It might be too dry for this to work now, but we can try.” He gets on his hands and knees and reaches under the wooden stairs. When he pries part of the frame up with a big sludging sound, it comes loose from the block of cement. He carefully etches “Zeb” in the thick concrete, and then hands me the stick. I write “LeeLee” and he laughs.
That laugh. It’s my world.
The writing is small, and it will be under the stairs so probably not visible to anyone, but my heart hammers with the significance of this.
He stands and pulls me into a hug and I feel his skin against me. I slide my hands up his back, pressing them against him, relishing in the firm sculpt of his torso.
I sigh, willing myself to let go of all the reasons why this shouldn’t be happening. I want more with him, and I don’t care that he’s my blustery boss. I just care about him. Period.
His back stiffens, and he steps away from me, grasping my elbows before letting go.
His eyes hold an apology—a longing. “I better let you get home.”
I nod, blinking rapidly. He motions for me to go first along the boards back to the house. I do, aware of his every movement behind me. The scent of him is still in my nose, assaulting my senses, the feel of his skin still on my fingertips.
We step way up and into the house.
“Thanks for coming all the way up here.” Something like a smile curves the edges of his lips.
“You warned me this job would be a twenty-four-seven type of deal. I guess finally having to do this a few weeks into it isn’t so bad.”
He nods, a playfulness in his stance. “It could have been so much worse.”
“I know. I should count myself lucky,” I tease. I don’t know what else to do but to continue to turn the heavy desire into something lighter . . . something of no consequence.
He grasps my hand. “I’m the lucky one.” In the dark, with the moonlight and stars hitting us just right, his eyes search my own.
I shoot out a breath. “I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and I’ll call Home Away from Home as soon as I can to let them know you sent that paperwork back.”
“Be prepared for the onslaught of the legal team from Denver tomorrow. It will be a busy day.”
I nod and turn to leave.
“Wait. I’ll walk you out.” He takes the lamp of the hook by the front door and we step outside.
And all I can think of as he guides me back through the dark with the lamp and out the front steps, isI can be prepared for the legal team tomorrow. But am I prepared to say goodbye to him at my car door right now?
Chapter 18
Sebastian
