by J. S. Scott
I glanced at him through the mirror, thinking Sebastian would look gorgeous in anything…or nothing. He was currently dressed in a tan fisherman’s sweater and a pair of dark jeans, a casual outfit that made him look as hot as he appeared in one of his custom power suits. Maybe more so because he looked so carefree and happy.
Sebastian and I had spent almost every moment of our free time the last several days in each other’s company, and I cherished every moment. It wasn’t that what we were doing was all that exciting, but I’d discovered that the time I spent with him was a few of the happiest days I could remember.
Every day I looked forward to being with him.
And every night was an adventure. Okay. Yes. Those experiences usually required us both being naked. But even having dinner together, talking about our days was fun when I was with him. We shared pretty much the same interests when it came to television and movies, and we both loved the same food.
I’d discovered why Sebastian’s delicious scent always seemed to include a hint of butterscotch. Because he’d stopped smoking weed and cigarettes, he kept a bowl of candies on his desk at all times, gourmet butterscotch hard candy that he’d gotten me practically addicted to.
I turned around and looked over my shoulder to review my rear end. “I have to stop eating those candies. I can see them on my ass,” I grumbled.
“I’d be happy to lick them off for you,” Sebastian answered with an evil grin.
I glared at him, trying to keep a straight face when I wanted to smile. “My jeans are too tight.”
“They aren’t,” he contradicted. “And your ass is perfect. I have fantasies about it.”
“Wicked fantasies?” I asked hopefully.
He quirked his brow. “Very. Want me to tell you about them?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “We’ll end up late for dinner.”
I was already nervous enough about having dinner with his family. I didn’t want to be rude by being late.
Sebastian rose from the bed like a predator on the prowl. “Trace would understand,” he said persuasively as he wrapped his muscular arms around my waist.
He was insatiable, and I loved it, but I wasn’t giving in. “We just got out of bed.”
We’d spent the entire morning lazing around naked, one passionate session right after the one before.
“Yeah. And I resent it,” Sebastian answered, his voice amused.
“You do not.” I pushed him away firmly. “You haven’t seen Dane for a long time, and you already told me Eva’s an incredible chef.”
“I miss Dane,” he answered thoughtfully.
“I’m sure you do,” I said, giving him a sympathetic glance.
Sebastian had explained that Dane had been badly scarred in the plane crash which had taken away his father and his stepmother. So I knew why he was self-conscious about being in public.
“Ready?” he asked, pocketing his keys and his wallet.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I wasn’t going to get beautiful and thin before I got to Trace’s house, so I’d have to deal with how I looked.
“Don’t be nervous. You’ll like Trace and Eva, and Dane is a nice guy.”
I shot him a smile I wasn’t really feeling. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with his family. I wanted them to like me. “I’m just a little nervous. It’s a little intimidating to be eating Thanksgiving dinner with a bunch of powerful people.”
“We’re human,” Sebastian said as he took my hand to lead me downstairs. “We celebrate Thanksgiving just like everybody else.”
I doubted that. Sebastian was like no guy I’d ever known, but in a good way. Since we hadn’t been able to have sex every minute we were together, we’d gotten to know each other very well over the last few days. I’d come home with him every night, and I’d started leaving clothing and personal items at his house. I couldn’t say I hadn’t gotten lost a time or two in the massive residence, but I was gradually getting comfortable with his wealth and his home.
“I know,” I agreed as he led me down the stairs.
I understood that Sebastian wasn’t back at Walker for the money he could make. His love for alternative energy was clear in everything he did. He enjoyed his job, and he was passionate about solar technology. He was teaching me more and more about the science, and I was an enthusiastic listener.
I also was aware that Trace carried on his father’s company to keep his legacy going.
Dane pursued his art.
None of the Walkers were like any of the rich guys I’d known, and I knew I couldn’t put them all in the same mold.
I thought for a moment as Sebastian stopped near the kitchen to get the fruit salad and wine I’d gotten for Eva. Finally, I confessed, “Even if you weren’t rich, I’d still be nervous.”
He grabbed the bag from the fridge, sitting it on the counter while we both got into our coats. “Why?” he asked curiously.
“Because this is your family,” I answered simply. “I want them to like me.”
“Sweetheart, they’ll love you.”
I shrugged. “I hope so.”
“Trust me,” he said solemnly.
“I do.”
He hauled me out the garage door, then settled me into the car before getting into the driver’s seat.
After he buckled up, he reached into the console between the bucket seats and pulled out a handful of those lethal, butt-widening butterscotch sweets.
“Candy?” he offered mischievously, holding out his hand with the offering.
I was a stress eater, and Sebastian knew it. I glared at him, but snatched a few of the tempting, rich treats from his hand, then watched as he took one, unwrapped it, then popped it into his mouth.
“If I pop out of these jeans, it’s all your fault,” I grumbled as I unwrapped a butterscotch, the smell making my mouth water as it went from my hand to my mouth. As the taste exploded on my tongue, I asked curiously, “Where did you get these? They’re addictive.” I’d had plenty of this type of candy, but none had ever been this good.
He opened the garage door as he answered. “Imported. My assistant started me on them. I emptied the candy dish in the office in one day. Now I always have a full bowl every morning.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course he could eat a pound of candy a day and still have a perfectly sculpted body. “I’d be even chubbier than I am now.”
“You’re fucking perfect,” Sebastian answered as he maneuvered onto the street.
I both loved and hated it when he said things like that. It was disarming. “You know I’m not.” After all, he was feeling up my body on a nightly basis.
“To me you are,” he answered simply.
And…what in the hell could I say to that? Sebastian accepted me exactly the way I was, Italian curvy figure and all. “Thank you,” I answered softly, meaning so much more than just the words.
“I’m not sure why you’re worried. We work out every single night,” he answered in a naughty tone that sent shivers of desire up my spine.
I batted his arm playfully. “Pervert.”
“Guilty,” he said. “I’m horny every single moment you’re with me.”
I smiled as I crunched on the last of my butterscotch, totally unable to worry about how I looked when Sebastian acted like I was the most gorgeous woman on the planet.
“No wonder I adore you,” I teased.
“I hope you still do by the end of today,” he mumbled in a low, slightly-worried voice.
“I thought you said everything would be fine.”
“I hope it will be,” he answered mysteriously.
“What happened to your certainty that your family would love me?”
“Oh, they will,” he said confidently.
“Then what are you worried about?” His cryptic comments were starting to make me nervo
us.
“Paige, I…” his voice trailed off, his statement unfinished.
“What?” I looked at his profile, trying to figure out what was bothering him.
He shook his head. “Nothing. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Sebastian, you’re worrying me,” I warned him.
“Don’t,” he requested as he took my hand in his. “Everything will be fine.”
I savored the closeness as he entwined our fingers. I couldn’t see his eyes, so it was hard to understand if he was truly concerned about something. “Okay. I trust you.”
He groaned. “That’s why I’m a little concerned.”
“Why?”
“I sort of invited a few extra guests.”
“I thought it was just family.”
Trace and Sebastian lived within a few miles of each other, so we were already pulling into the parking lot of the high-rise building where Sebastian had said Trace had the penthouse.
“Technically, it is just family,” he answered vaguely.
“Tell me who else is coming. I hate surprises.”
“I know,” he answered, his voice sounding pained as he parked his vehicle and hopped out without answering the question.
He moved quickly, helping me out of the car, locking it up, then entwining our fingers again as we walked into the building and into the elevator that led to Trace’s penthouse.
I was tense, sensing Sebastian was hiding something. As the elevator went up, I started to feel extremely uneasy. “You invited your extended family? Am I going to get overwhelmed by billionaires?”
“No.” He pinned me against the elevator wall, a hand planted on each side of my body so I couldn’t escape. “Paige, I love you,” he said huskily, his eyes locking with mine. “Remember that.”
I fell into his dark gaze, my body trembling, my heart about to beat right out of my chest as I grasped the edges of the black jacket he was wearing. “What?”
He’d never said those words before, but as I searched his expression, I knew that he meant them.
“I fucking love you,” he rasped. “I think I have almost since the moment I met you. Maybe it’s not rational to believe in love-at-first-sight, but it was more than just the fact that I wanted to fuck you. I sensed you, and I was drawn to you like an obsession that would never go away. It’s just gotten stronger every day. I want you to be happy.”
Tears began to leak from my eyes, and my emotions were out of control.
I pulled his head down and kissed him, trying to convey how much his words meant to me without words. Because honestly, words couldn’t express how much Sebastian meant to me.
He kissed me back with a desperation that took my breath away, and we both emerged panting as the elevator came to a stop.
He rested his forehead against mine as he said, “Everything amazing happens in an elevator for us.”
I wanted to tell him that I loved him, too. That his support and unconditional love meant everything to me.
But I didn’t have the chance as we breathlessly exited the lift, and noticed the door to what had to be Trace’s penthouse was already open.
I stopped in my tracks, stunned as I realized exactly who else Sebastian had invited to Thanksgiving dinner, as they waited right outside the door.
Confused, I shook my head in denial. “Mom? Dad?”
My heart shattered into pieces as I confronted the two people that I’d loved the most in the world; wonderful parents who I thought I’d have for a lifetime, but who eventually left me to face the darkness alone.
Sebastian squeezed my hand, keeping a firm grip on me. I knew he was probably afraid I’d run. But my days of hiding were over.
I didn’t turn around and leave.
Instead, I felt the tears start to flow down my face like a warm river as I finally faced the excruciating pain of what I’d lost.
CHAPTER 20
Paige
“Why are you here?” I asked my parents in a tremulous voice as I seated myself in Trace’s den.
Sebastian had quickly ushered all of us into Trace’s home, and after a quick hello to our host and hostess, he’d hurried the four of us to the den.
I was still so astonished that I’d barely been able to mutter a hello to Trace and Eva.
I still didn’t understand why my parents were here in Trace’s home. We didn’t have any close family, so I was hoping it wasn’t some dire news that they felt they had to deliver in person.
“Sebastian invited us,” my dad answered quietly. “And your mom and I wanted to see you.”
I looked from one to parent to the other, noticing that Dennis and Maria Rutledge looked much the same as they had the last time I saw them. However, I couldn’t help but observe the fine lines on their faces, and their anxious expressions. They were seated directly across from me on a plush sofa, so it wasn’t difficult to see the subtle changes that had happened over the years.
I turned my head to the right, gaping at Sebastian, who was seated next to me on the loveseat. “Why? You knew we haven’t spoken to each other in years?” I felt slightly betrayed, and more than a little bewildered.
He shrugged. “That’s why. You miss them, Paige. You know you do. And I think you’re a little readier to listen to what they have to say. I knew you’d probably be pissed, and I could even understand why. But I want you to be happy.”
“He called us,” Maria said, nervously clasping her hands together on her lap. “Paige, I know you’re angry, but I’m not sure it’s for the right reasons. Sebastian said that you think we were worried about your dad losing his job.”
“Weren’t you?” I asked hesitantly. “You wanted me to keep my assault a dirty little secret.”
“I don’t work for Talmage anymore, honey,” my dad spoke up. “I haven’t since Justin assaulted you. Did you really think I could stay there after what happened?”
“He. Raped. Me.” I said each word clearly. I knew my parents didn’t like the word, but rape was exactly what happened.
My mom started to cry, tears trickling down her cheeks as she acknowledged, “I know, baby. I know. Do you know how hard it was to know that we couldn’t protect you from that, and that we couldn’t even help you find justice?”
My dad wrapped his arm around my mother’s shoulders as he spoke, “Maybe it wasn’t right, but you were our sweet girl, and we wanted to protect you. There was no evidence, and no apparent witnesses. It was your word against Justin’s. The Talmage family would have torn you apart, and stripped every bit of your dignity by trying to make you the guilty one. It wasn’t that we didn’t want Justin to pay, or that we gave a damn about what happened to us. We’re your parents, Paige. We just wanted you safe.”
I blinked, surprised I’d actually heard any kind of curse word from my dad. “Did you believe me?” I had to ask the question. I needed to know.
“Yes, of course we did,” my mother replied, looking like she’d never even doubted my account of the incident for an instant.
My father nodded. “You never lied to us, Paige. Why would we not believe you?”
Oh, God. Maybe they really had been trying to protect me.
Granted, I hadn’t understood their stance at the time, but Sebastian was right. I was older, wiser, and much less traumatized now. “I was angry,” I explained quietly. “All I wanted was for Justin to pay for all I suffered that night: the fear, the humiliation, the helplessness I felt when I couldn’t do anything but be at his mercy. And he had none. He hurt me physically and tormented me emotionally,” I said on a loud sob.
“We know, sweetheart, and your mom and I are both so sorry. We were both so upset that anybody had hurt our little girl that we didn’t handle it very well. We didn’t talk to you about it because we couldn’t handle it. That wasn’t fair to you.” My father’s voice was cracking with emotion.
> I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have run away. If I needed to talk, I should have told you.” I was beginning to realize my own mistakes. Maybe my parents hadn’t handled my rape very well, but our misunderstanding wasn’t all their fault. “I was angry, and not being able to go to the police made me feel helpless and terrified. I felt betrayed because you wanted to hush everything up, and that meant I had to hide all of my pain inside me.”
“We blamed ourselves because we had a hard time hearing about what happened,” my dad confessed.
I swiped at the still-falling tears on my cheeks as I asked, “You’re really not working for Talmage? Where did you go?”
My father shot me a sad smile. “To his biggest competitor. I’m actually a lot happier there.”
“So it worked out okay?” I asked anxiously.
“No, sweetheart, it didn’t. My baby girl was still hurting, and we didn’t know how to talk to you.”
I rose, stepping around the coffee table to kneel beside the couch. I clasped both of their hands as I said shakily, “I’m sorry. I thought the worst. I understand now that you were trying to protect me. You were both right. I would have never won the case, and I’m sure I would have been an object of ridicule.”
My mom stroked my hair as she looked at me with love in a pair of blue eyes so much like my own. “We’re sorry, too, baby. So very sorry. You should have never had to live through what Justin did to you.”
My dad squeezed my hand. “We missed you so much,” he said with regret in his voice.
“I missed you both, too,” I acknowledged with a sob of pain.
My mom stood up and urged me to my feet for a big, Italian hug. “Forgive us. And don’t go away again,” she whispered urgently in my ear once she’d wrapped me in her embrace.
Dad got up and pulled us both into his body for a group hug as we all cried. But, for me, it was a cleansing, emotionally charged moment that seemed to lift a weight off my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized I carried.
