by Bella Andre
“You okay with this?” Sebastian asked Charlie softly.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because Susan clearly wants to grill you on everything we’ve said and done—and probably on when you’re going to commit to having my firstborn.”
“Trust me, I’m going to grill her right back about you.”
He looked a little shell-shocked at her return volley. She grabbed a slice of pizza and a soda, then took the seat Susan offered. Heck, she felt kind of shell-shocked herself. She hadn’t thought much about marriage or a family, but having kids with Sebastian sounded so good...as did everything that came with it, including his ring on her finger.
“Lord, that sun is bright,” Susan said from behind an oversized pair of sunglasses. “Daniel tells me he’s going to build a deck and lay in a drought-resistant garden, front and back, with drip watering.” She scuffed her shoe in the dirt and lowered her voice. “I know it’s impractical out here, but I do love a nice green lawn.”
Still stunned by the vision of herself in a long white dress, walking down a rose-strewn aisle toward Sebastian, the best response Charlie could come up with was, “Me too.”
Despite Sebastian’s threat, Susan didn’t pry at all. She simply asked about Charlie’s work and then talked about her boys. Her deep, abiding love for every one of them shone in her voice, her smile, and the softness of her gaze. They were all her sons, not just Daniel, and each of them had special qualities. She clearly loved her daughter no less.
“Lyssa is traveling through Europe on her own.” Susan said. “She’s so adventurous. I’m not sure I could have done anything like that when I was her age. And I certainly couldn’t do it now.”
“Of course you could. Just imagine.” Charlie closed her eyes dreamily. “You and Bob floating through Venice on a gondola.” It was so easy to picture the scene with Sebastian at her side.
Susan laughed. “Bob would get seasick.”
“How about drinking wine with fresh bread and cheese at a Tuscan villa?” She could easily while away the hours with that divine daydream.
“I’m lactose and gluten intolerant.”
Charlie stared at Susan’s straight face for three seconds, then said, “Maybe you shouldn’t eat the pizza.”
Susan laughed heartily, from deep in her belly all the way to her eyes. “I like you, Charlie—you let me joke around.”
“I like you too.” Especially because you took in Sebastian when he badly needed a family to love him. Thank you for being there for him, Susan.
Just then, little Noah let out a squeal of delight from across the yard. “Isn’t he a doll?” Susan’s face turned mushy with love.
Matt’s son was incredibly cute as he drove a toy dump truck through the dirt. With the help of Paige and Ariana, the young woman who worked for Daniel, Noah loaded his truck, though he appeared to be getting more dirt on himself than in the toy. “You go, Noah,” Sebastian called out. “Fill up that truck with all the rocks so your Uncle Daniel doesn’t have to move them later on. They’re too heavy for him.” He scooted quickly out of range of Daniel’s elbow.
“Sebastian’s going to make a wonderful father someday,” Susan said.
“Yes, he will.” Sebastian would love any kid he had with everything in him.
“Speaking of family, I’m sorry about your mother’s health. Sebastian has mentioned her more than once.” Susan’s gray eyes were misty with empathy. “Being in pain all the time must be terrible, and so hard for you to watch.”
“Thank you for your kindness.” Charlie smiled softly, though she stiffened slightly, nervous that Susan might add in her two cents about letting Sebastian do more. “It is hard, but Mom’s always upbeat.”
“Your mother’s new home sounds lovely. You’re Sebastian’s hero, with your dedication to caring for her. As busy as you are, I’m amazed you still manage to visit twice a week.”
Charlie shot a look at Sebastian. He’d told Susan all the good stuff and none of the bad. He hadn’t said that Charlie was hesitant about the doctors he’d found or that she wouldn’t take his money to help with Magnolia Gardens. Had he really called her his hero?
“Sebastian bought Mom a lovely china tea set,” Charlie wanted Susan to know. “Will and Harper picked it out. That’s become part of her ritual too.”
“He’s a good boy.” Susan was quiet a moment before looking straight at Charlie. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that he thrives on helping.”
Charlie nodded. “He’s amazing with the people at his seminars and he’s been so nice to the kids this morning too.” Even if he hadn’t always stopped to let them learn by doing the work themselves.
“His heart is in the right place. Always. But...” She paused, as if wondering how Charlie would take what she was about to say. “Sometimes he doesn’t know when to step back a bit and stop helping.”
“It’s only because he thinks everything needs to be perfect.” His need for perfection had driven him to hide his sketchbooks from the world. He wanted everything to be perfect for her mother, and for Charlie’s career. Somewhere along the way, he’d learned that perfection was crucial. Though as far as Charlie could see, Susan obviously wasn’t the person who’d taught him that lesson.
Susan’s eyes lit with hope. “You understand him, don’t you?”
“I’m trying to.” Charlie took a deep breath. “I love him.” Once the words spilled out, she couldn’t stop the rest. “I love him so much that all I want is to make him happy any way I can.”
“He wants the same for you, Charlie.” Susan took her hand and held it tightly. “Promise me you won’t give up on him.”
“He’s the most incredible man I’ve ever met. I’ll never give up on him.” Never.
“You’re a strong person. An independent woman who clearly knows her own mind. And Sebastian has never been as happy as he is now, just from being near you. Do you know what else I see, Charlie?” She paused, holding Charlie’s gaze. “That he loves you exactly the way you are.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Daniel broke the moment, clapping his hands and announcing that their break was over. Charlie and Susan only had time for a hug before heading back to their posts.
He loves you exactly the way you are.
Charlie still wasn’t completely sure about that. Yes, Sebastian loved her—she believed that with everything in her, with his every touch—but he also had a vision of the celebrated artist and socialite he wanted her to be. He’d never say it—maybe wasn’t even aware of it. But she didn’t know how long she could live up to that vision.
She still had so many more questions for Susan, so many important things she needed to know. What had Sebastian’s relationship with his parents been like, particularly with his father? How had he dealt with their passing, given that they hadn’t made the changes he’d so hoped for? What had Sebastian been like as a teenager? Had he always been so positive, so sure that everyone was capable of change? And why he was so intent on keeping his artistic talent a secret from everyone? Charlie was almost sure Susan had to know about his drawing.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t sneak away when she was in the middle of assembling drawers with Stacey. She would have asked Sebastian all her questions face to face if she could be certain they wouldn’t upset him. He’d been almost feral the night she’d found his sketches. She couldn’t do that to him again. All she wanted was to support him and his art, not tear him down by forcing him to face a painful past.
Charlie sighed, wishing, not for the first time, that there were easy solutions to everything—from how to move Sebastian past his block about his talent to keeping up her stamina during the endless stream of galas and new commissions. Long days full of hard work, evenings full of sequins and small talk, and moonlit nights wrapped in Sebastian’s arms tumbled into one another faster than she could believe. She’d found love, but that didn’t mean life suddenly became an effortless walk in the park.
Glorious. Breathtaking. Heart-raci
ng. Yet still completely confusing at times.
She watched him, brimming with all her emotions.
“We’ll apply the adhesive to the wall, then press on the tiles,” Sebastian explained, and like a typical teenage boy, EZ grunted in response. “We need to get the squares straight along the line I’ve drawn.” Instead of letting EZ try, Sebastian fit the next square, turning it a couple of times before finding the right position and pressing it into place. “We also want to make sure we don’t get any black ones side by side.” EZ nodded and handed Sebastian another tile set, then another.
Sebastian was doing it again, telling rather than letting EZ do the work.
Stacey was cooking along nicely with the drawers, so Charlie left her to it, sauntering close to lean against the doorjamb next to the empty spot the stove would fit into once the backsplash was done. “Looking good.” Before Sebastian could reach for another tile, she added, “Let’s see what you can do, EZ.”
“Me?” EZ put the fingertips of both hands to his chest, his brown eyes wide.
Charlie laughed. “Yeah, you. You’ve been watching Sebastian closely enough.”
Sebastian glanced at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. Then he nodded. “Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Good idea. Lay some in, EZ.”
The edge of tension thrumming through Sebastian’s voice was subtle enough that EZ wouldn’t notice. But Charlie heard. Still, Sebastian was as encouraging as ever, complimenting EZ’s technique as he worked.
Once Stacey finished the drawers, she joined them to watch EZ press the next pieces into place on the adhesive. Clearly distracted by the pretty girl, he pushed it a little higher than the straight line Sebastian had drawn.
“You’re doing great, especially considering it’s your first time,” Charlie said, feeling Sebastian tense beside her. She wanted to shake the person who’d taught him there were ugly consequences to imperfection. She not only learned from her mistakes, but sometimes they even led to her best accidental creations. “When you’re doing this kind of work, it’s good to pause and take the time to check things out,” she coached EZ.
“Cool, will do.” EZ backed up a couple of steps, then said, “That side’s a little high, isn’t it?”
“Good catch,” Sebastian said, smiling at the boy. “Why don’t you look at the info on the bucket of adhesive to see if it’s still okay for you to adjust them.” While EZ and Stacey both squatted down to read the fine print, he turned to Charlie. “Can I grab you for a second?”
* * *
Leaving EZ and Stacey to work on the tiles, Sebastian took Charlie’s hand, leading her outside to a semi-private spot beneath one of the backyard canopies. “Thank you.”
“Is that really what you want to say to me?”
He appreciated the fact that she didn’t pretend she had no idea what he was thanking her for. “At first,” he made himself admit, “I was annoyed when you stepped in. I know you teach, but I do too. I know what I’m doing...at least, I thought I did.”
“You’re great with the kids—”
“But I was still screwing up. I didn’t want the tiles to be laid in crooked so I stopped teaching and started doing it for them instead.” Through the window they could see how well the two teens worked together, figuring out a great tile pattern all on their own. “Now they’re doing better than I was.”
Charlie smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then she put her hand to his cheek. “Who ever made you feel you had to be perfect?”
He tensed. He didn’t want to get into it, not now, as if he were whining about his childhood again. “I don’t need to be perfect.”
She studied him. He thought she’d push, but her gaze roamed his face, then she looked down at his mouth as if suddenly making a decision. And she stepped into his arms.
Her mouth was soft and sweet against his. Yet again, he couldn’t believe his luck. From the Opera House last Saturday night to a young adult group home in San Jose was a major difference. He loved watching Charlie wend her way through a ballroom, wearing another of the sexy little numbers she and her mom were so good at putting together. But Charlie in jeans and a work shirt really got his engine going.
Every time he looked at her, every time their lips met, a wave of emotion rolled over him, swamping him. It was more than mere desire, more than need. He wanted her in every part of his life, not just his bed. She brought laughter and joy. She brought him meaning and new goals. He needed to help her take her career to the very top, to ease her mother’s suffering, even to be her family. While she had only her mother, he had the Mavericks. They weren’t his blood; they were so much more than blood. And he wanted to share his family with Charlie as well as her mother.
Susan was probably the only other person in the world who got away with stepping in to guide him when he needed it. Like Susan, Charlie was smart, and even more, she was diplomatic. No wonder she’d chosen to augment her art career by teaching. She was great with people, instinctively knowing when to offer a suggestion and when to back off, letting her students learn for themselves.
Yet he couldn’t help but worry how she’d do both once classes started again in the fall. She was already working on the chariot and her new commissions from six in the morning to six at night—not to mention the hours he kept her in his bed, loving every beautiful inch of her, never able to get enough. How much more could she possibly fit in? The number of galas and events would ease up a bit after the grand opening and the sculpture’s unveiling, but he couldn’t see how adding her teaching into the mix would be a good thing at this point.
“Have you made a decision about your classes yet?” He hadn’t pushed her since they’d talked about it with Francine.
“They don’t start until the end of September, so I still have a little time to decide.” She glanced back at the kitchen. “Now that they’ve got the tile covered, we should finish the cabinets.”
Clearly, she didn’t want to talk about it any more than he’d wanted to talk about his father or his past. Because it was in the past. But this was Charlie’s present, and he was too worried about her budding exhaustion to let it go. “You’ve got a lot of commissions. I can see what a great teacher you are, but you don’t have to go back, you know.”
“I know that.” She went quiet for a long moment. “Like I said, I’m not sure what I want to do yet.” Her voice squeezed with a note of frustration. As if she felt conflicted. As if he made her feel that way.
And yet it was his duty to watch out for her. He wasn’t pushing. He was simply offering. “Charlie.” He ran his hand down her back, her muscles stiff under his touch. “You can talk about it with me.”
She looked up, and for once, her beautiful eyes weren’t clear. She’d gone inward, shutting him out.
Damn it, no. He wouldn’t let her shut down, couldn’t bear the thought of it. He needed to keep their connection strong, no matter what it took.
“Come with me.” He wasn’t thinking straight, but he didn’t care as he led her to a shed by the back fence.
“Where are we going? We need to get back to the kids.”
No one had been in or out of the shed all day. The door wasn’t locked and he pulled her into the bare, clean space inside. The lone window was too high in the peak for anyone to see through.
“The drawers can wait.” He pushed the latch shut on the shed door. “This can’t.”
* * *
Charlie had loved everything about today. There’d been no need for all the schmoozing required by the crowded, impersonal galas Sebastian loved. If she fell asleep exhausted tonight, it would be due to a hard day’s work using her hands, not because she’d worn herself out with small talk. The Mavericks welcomed and accepted her. It didn’t matter that they were all wealthier than Saudi princes. She fit with them, like Susan and Bob or Harper and Jeremy, or even Paige.
If only Sebastian hadn’t asked her about her classes. But she’d started it by poking at his past, asking about why he had to make everything p
erfect. She shouldn’t have brought that up, because it had only led to his questions. And now her insides were all twisted up. There were all the letters from the college in the drawer at the bungalow. She had to make a decision. After Labor Day, the kids would start signing up for classes, and hers would either be in the catalog or they wouldn’t. She had to do something.
She knew what Sebastian wanted—he’d opened the doors to a bona fide art career and clearly thought she should step through, reaching for the success right at her fingertips. Charlie had never been foolish enough to think she could do everything. She understood you had to make choices about what you could and couldn’t do, and that if you took on more than you could handle, you’d fail. Yet her heart wrenched at the thought of telling her dean she wasn’t coming back. Lord knew she’d far rather give up all the parties, the endless schmoozing, being on, on, on all the time.
Any way she looked at it—and sometimes she felt that was all she did, examine the situation from every possible angle—she couldn’t do that to Sebastian. Not when it would be ungrateful, and worse, it would seem as though she’d chosen teaching over him.
Something had to give—either teaching or the parties. But there was one thing she absolutely would not give up. Not for anything in the world.
Sebastian.
She wanted him with a need that scared her sometimes. Her fear abated when he touched her, looked at her, when he loved her late at night in his big bed until she was boneless with pleasure. And she knew he was in as deep as she was.
But then a new day dawned, and alone in her workshop all those bigger, heavier storm clouds still gathered above her. If she couldn’t figure out how to survive in his world of important parties and even more important people, did she stand to lose everything? She honestly wasn’t sure how long she could keep on being that perfect celebrity. One day—and she could feel it coming soon—she’d slip up. She’d snarl instead of smile. She’d snap instead of laugh. She might even scream.
