No one but Bob, Susan, and the other Mavericks ever talked this straight to him. And Charlie too, who never couched her thoughts in smoke and mirrors.

Still, it was reflex to say, “I don’t have walls.”

Susan had the grace not to laugh out loud at his lame protest. But she did shake her head. And perhaps give a small eyeroll.

“Okay,” he said in a grudging voice, “I might have a wall or two.”

This time she did laugh, but she also reached for his hand. “All of you have done a marvelous job of transcending your childhoods. But some things are hard to shake, Sebastian. You watched two people who loved each other destroy the very person they loved most.” Susan had spent twenty years trying to get him to accept that he couldn’t have fixed his parents, but now her mouth turned down at the corners. “Love doesn’t have to be like that.”

“I see you and Bob. Will and Harper. I get that love can work. But for me...” He looked into the garden, where Bob was still spraying the roses. “Charlie’s different. Special. I don’t want things to go wrong, to turn toxic. That’s why I’m being careful. Taking things slow.” And working like hell to try to figure her out through his sketches.

“The thing is, honey, you don’t always know when it’s safe to take a risk until you’ve already taken it. Until you’re already all in. Even if you haven’t figured everything out yet.” She paused as if to get the rest of her thoughts completely in order before she spoke. “It’s nice to think that we can control whether or not we fall in love with someone, but when love is big enough—when it’s truly meant to be—it happens whether you’re ready for it or not, even if you haven’t yet switched from red to green.”

He was trying to take in what Susan was saying, knew she and Bob and Will were the lucky ones and that he should listen to their advice. But he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “What about Evan and Whitney?” Now there was a marriage not made in heaven. Hell, if you looked up the term toxic relationship, you’d find a picture of Whitney right beside it. “Evan took a risk with her, but wouldn’t it have been better if he had taken things slow and looked at her personality and their relationship from every angle first before marrying her?”

“Honey,” Susan chided, “she’s had three miscarriages.”

Sebastian turned fully in his seat. “I feel sorry for her and Evan. Of course I do. But that doesn’t give her a license to be a horrible person the rest of the time. She’s a lost cause and Evan should get out. Now.”

“He’s caring for her for the sake of the baby that could be—and the mother that he believes she’ll turn into.”

He filled his lungs, then let the breath out on a deep sigh. “I just hope he can figure things out. And be happy. Because we all know she isn’t making him happy, no matter how hard he tries to make her happy.”

“It will work out for him. I know it will.” Susan gave him a big smile, which lit up her whole face. “And I can’t tell you how happy I am to know you’ve met someone special.”

He leaned over and was kissing her soft cheek, when Bob stepped back on the porch and asked, “What am I missing?”

“We’re talking about true love,” Susan told her husband.

“Don’t push,” Sebastian said in an undertone.

“I meant Will and Harper.”

“Liar.”

She laughed. “Now, how can you say that about an old lady?”

“Because you’re not old.”

“He’s right,” Bob said with a grin. “You’re my spring chicken.”

Bob and Susan were meant for each other. So were Will and Harper.

Was it possible that he and Charlie were too?

Or was he doomed to follow his parents’ and Evan and Whitney’s examples?

All Sebastian knew for sure was that he’d never felt like this about anyone or anything. Only Charlie. And that had to mean something.

Something big.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Sebastian.” Charlie hugged the cell phone to her ear and tried to pretend she was hugging him instead as she curled up on the sofa in the bungalow. “How are Bob and Susan?”

“They’re doing great and I’m glad I got a chance to visit.” Affection laced his voice. “But I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” She’d never played coy with him, and she wouldn’t start now. He’d been gone only three days, but it had felt like much longer. And even though they’d both been so busy this past week that they hadn’t actually managed to see much of each other, when they did, it was absolutely explosive. She definitely wouldn’t mind a little more exploding soon. “Was your business successful?”

“Yeah. A good deal all around. I’m heading out first thing tomorrow morning.”

She felt lightheaded with happiness at the prospect of his return. Sebastian was a different kind of man. She liked hot, fast, and all-consuming. But what he’d done to her was so much more—because he didn’t even need to take her clothes off or put his hands on her to make her feel that way. With Sebastian, she could want, need, and feel half crazy while they were simply hunkered on the floor sifting out the best bits of broken china and discussing their placement in the mosaic.

She’d always believed she worked better alone, but today she’d realized how much Sebastian had been feeding her creativity these past weeks. Between the zillion daily meetings that were an integral part of running his billion-dollar empire, he often called from the office to ask about her progress. Recently, she’d even punched his number on her cell a couple of times to bounce an idea off him. He always answered¸ no matter what he was doing—and his ideas were always so good that she’d continued to wonder if he had a secret background in art. In the evenings, he marveled at her day’s work. She’d come to crave his visits to her studio. Just as much as she’d come to crave his kisses, his touch. Him.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, as if she’d voiced her thoughts.

She gave a mock gasp. “Don’t tell me you want phone sex?”

His lascivious chuckle vibrated across the airwaves and started her engine revving. “It depends on what you’re wearing.”

“Well,” she drawled, “I’m getting into the hot tub soon. And I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Lord.” She loved the passionate growl in his voice. “I wish I were there.”

“I do too.” Last week, when they’d broken the dishes, then fallen together onto the workbench as he’d kissed her senseless, put his hand up her skirt, and made her scream with pleasure—it had been perfect. “Which is why you should go to bed now, so you can get up early to come home.”

“As soon as my meeting in San Jose is done, I’m coming straight to you, Charlie.”

“Good, because I’ve got so much to show you.”

“Don’t tempt me, or I’ll wake up my pilot right now and we’ll fly all night.”

“Not that.” She laughed, a throaty sound that spoke directly to how much she wanted him. “Okay, that and the mosaic.”

“I’ve been thinking—instead of waiting for the chariot and horses to be finished, I’d like to take pictures of the lion, the elephant, and all the works in your yard to see if we can find interested buyers.” He was matter-of-fact, as if it were going to be the easiest thing in the world to find other people who would love her work. “I know you’ve probably been looking for buyers for years, but I have a new pool of patrons you might not have met before.”

That was certainly true. He had a pool of billionaires. She had a pool of...no one. The idea of Sebastian thumbing through his list of high-powered contacts in search of buyers for her art shouldn’t make her frown.

After all, he was all she could ever hope for. A wealthy patron sweeping into her life to make her a big star. And he was right that it didn’t have to wait until the chariot’s unveiling. It could happen today. If she was lucky, she’d never again have to worry about where her mother was living. And she’d actually be able to make a full-time living from her art.