We. Our. He loved that, how even after he’d worked like hell to put the brakes on, she was not only in agreement, but wasn’t holding anything against him out of sheer frustration.

Oh yeah, every sign pointed to Charlie Ballard being special. Being the one. Soon he would know for sure—whether it was through his sketches or simply by spending more time with her. Once he was absolutely convinced they wouldn’t hurt each other the way his parents had, he’d make damn sure they got their fill of each other, morning, noon and night, with no brakes anywhere in sight.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A few days later, Sebastian needed to fly back East. He usually enjoyed his business trips, different sights, a change of pace—but this time, he didn’t want to leave Charlie. This meeting had been scheduled a month ago, before everything started changing inside him. He’d invited her to come, but just as he’d expected, she wouldn’t desert the chariot.

So he went alone to New York and had a good meeting with the TV network that wanted to carry his series of motivational programs on creating success in everyday life. Even better, over drinks he met with a friend who mentioned a new hotel back in Northern California where they were looking for a big, impressive garden centerpiece. In an instant, Sebastian knew that Charlie’s work was meant to be there. One quick phone call got Sebastian an appointment for the day he returned.

He would have headed home that night, but he’d promised Susan and Bob he’d stop in to see them in Chicago. If not for them, he’d never go back there. None of the Mavericks would. The bad memories of Chicago overshadowed the good, even though they’d long since moved Susan and Bob out of the seedy neighborhood and into a big house on a tree-lined street.

“Honey, we’re so glad you came.”

Susan had prepared his favorite dish, beef bourguignon, which had been simmering all day in the slow cooker despite the Illinois summer heat. The house smelled like ambrosia, and now they were sitting outside on the deck enjoying a slightly cooler evening. A light breeze washed over him, reminding him of Charlie’s fingers in his hair.

Susan looked younger every day, if that could be believed. Life was treating her well. She was slender and healthy, walking five miles every day, at least in summer. “You look great. Have you done something new with your hair?”

She patted her silver locks and smiled. “Just a different rinse.”

She was only fifty-five, but most of those years hadn’t been kind. She’d been a waitress at a diner, and Bob had been a baggage handler at O’Hare. They’d started their family young, Daniel coming along when they were only twenty, and their daughter Lyssa ten years later. Then there were the Mavericks, the rough-and-tumble teenage boys they’d taken in and raised. Bob and Susan were givers, even when they hadn’t had enough to give. Sebastian was inspired by them every day.

Bob pointed to the top of his bald head. “Hey, what about me?”

“Oh, honey, I love your bald head.” Susan reached over to stroke the shiny skin.

Sebastian loved the way they were with each other. He couldn’t remember them fighting, not like his parents. His parents had loved hard, drunk hard, fought hard. Whereas Susan had always told Sebastian that in any argument, you had to stop, think, and then speak. It was advice that had served him well in business negotiations over the years.

Bob rose from his chair. “I’m going to water the rose bushes. They look a little parched.”

“Thanks, honey.” She gave him an affectionate swat on the behind as he passed, then he practically jogged down the steps. “He’s got a whole new lease on life after his back surgery. I’m so glad you boys talked him into it.”

No matter how much money the Mavericks earned, Bob and Susan never took anything for granted. It was only when the pain from an old work injury had become debilitating that Bob allowed Daniel and the rest of them to pay for the surgery. Of course they’d gotten him the best, flying in a surgeon from London.

He could do the same for Charlie’s mom. She might not ever jog down a flight of stairs, but if she could live without pain, it would be worth it.

Susan put her hand over his on the arm of his chair. “You’ve got a different look about you too. Let me guess...you’ve found someone special, haven’t you?”

He didn’t even try to play it cool, not when Susan was the heart-and-soul guru for all the Mavericks. She saw all, knew all, understood all.

“Her name’s Charlie.”

“Charlie.” There was a smile in Susan’s voice. “I like her name.”

“It’s short for Charlotte. But Charlie suits her so much better.” Anticipating her next question, he said, “I hired her to create the sculpture for the lobby.” He didn’t have to explain which lobby. He talked with Susan at least once a week, but he hadn’t yet mentioned Charlie because he’d hoped to have her figured out before being peppered with questions.

“An artist. Like you. That’s wonderful.” Susan was always so generous with her praise, even though she knew he’d never think of himself as an artist. “She’s made her way into your sketchbook already, hasn’t she?”

“You always know way too much.”

She squeezed his hand. “You’re my boys.”

He’d always been amazed that Susan had never made a distinction between the children she’d given birth to and the rest of the Mavericks. She loved them all equally. In many ways, he believed the Mavericks had needed her more even than the children she had carried inside her.

Daniel and Lyssa understood from the beginning that they were loved. Whereas the rest of them had to learn to believe in it.

Sebastian knew his parents had loved each other—and him too, as much as they were able. But that love had destroyed them. And it might have destroyed him too, if he hadn’t found Susan and Bob and the Mavericks.

“I’ve filled a couple of pads so far.”

“That tells me she must be very special.” She pinned him with an undodgeable look. “And also that you’re still trying to figure out something about her.”

Yep, Susan knew him through and through. “She’s gorgeous, she’s talented, she’s smart. She teaches classes at the local college in addition to making her own art.”

“She sounds fascinating. So where’s the but?”

“She’s gotten nowhere with her career even though her work is amazing.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to get.”

He didn’t get that either. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe she’s already happy with her life.”

Susan said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world. But Sebastian had spent his life motivating people to embrace their greatness and fulfill their potential to the utmost, so he knew there had to be more going on for Charlie. “She’s certainly not unhappy, but she’s told me she’d love to see her pieces displayed for everyone to enjoy.”

“Still, I wonder if you should be careful how hard you push her.”

“Push?” He frowned. “I’m helping her.” Though he had to admit he was pushing about Francine. “Her mom’s got arthritis. Really bad stuff. Charlie’s letting me bring in a new doctor, but she won’t allow me to pay for a better home for her mother to live in.”

“Charlie sounds independent. That’s a big part of what you like about her, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He loved Charlie’s strength, her ability to take care of herself, her loyalty to her mother, and her passion for her art, for life itself. He also loved the femininity she usually hid under her face shield and safety apron, and couldn’t wait to keep drawing it out of her. “She’s starting to be okay with me helping her mother, which is great. But I’m still determined to work out what’s holding her back.”

“Her? Or you?” At his raised eyebrows, she said, “You’ve made your life about helping other people let go of their walls, their barriers. But what about your walls? Your barriers?”