Page 17 of Sterling Heat

“Violet will be her middle name,” I add because I want to honor this man in some way. He helped bring my little candlelight into the world.

His brows lift at the mention of his mother before he rolls his lips and turns his head to the side. He blinks once. Twice.

I’m stunned by the effect such a simple gesture has on him. Then again, giving Adara such a name makes a statement. My little girl will always be a reminder of the miracle that happened in a bakery.

“Okay. Adara Violet,” Sedona repeats.

“Oh, and Sedona? Can you get me one of those hospital bands?” He points to the one around my wrist. “I’m the father. I want to visit my daughter.”

My jaw drops. What is he doing? But Sebastian isn’t looking at me. His smile is aimed at Sedona, using his charm to get what he wants from her.

Crestfallen, she glances from me to him and back. “Of course. You’re a lucky woman.” A congratulatory note is missing in her tone, though.

“I’m a lucky man,” Sebastian states, drawing her attention back to him. Then he taps his wrist as awkwardness fills the room. “The band?”

“Right. I’ll be back again. And it will be time for another blood pressure check.” Sedona scampers from the room, definitively less energetic than her previous movements.

Once the door closes, I turn to Sebastian. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t like Adara alone in there and you’re not able to go to her. Give me your phone number. I’ll go in, and Facetime you so you can see her.”

Instantly, my eyes fill with tears again. “You’d do that?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, casual and nonchalant like he didn’t just offer me a gift through a phone camera lens.

I’m going to get to see my little girl while Sebastian pretends to be her dad.

Chapter 6

[Sebastian]

What the hell was I thinking?

Enya had looked so sad when I walked into her room. Those quiet tears rolling over her cheeks had my chest cracking open a bit, wanting to do anything to make her smile.

And fuck, that was embarrassing with Sedona. After seven years in the slammer, I went a little wild when I was first released. I’ve slowed down quite a bit since that time.

My brother Knox would joke that the reckless encounters have diminished because there wasn’t anyone left for me to sleep with in this small town. He wasn’t exactly wrong, but I also no longer like sleeping with women who only want a brief walk on the wild side with the town troublemaker.

Then again, I am the least likely to be tied down to any woman for more than a night. Building a relationship involves commitment and I lack dedication. Or maybe it’s that I don’t trust anyone anymore. Either way, I can’t imagine a woman wanting to be saddled long-term to me with my past.

On that note, I have no idea why I’m in Milton County General in the next town over from Sterling Falls which only has a medical center. Or standing outside the neo-natal intensive care unit, waiting to be buzzed in by the receptionist who directed me to pod four.

As the doors close behind me, I count each room number as I pass.

What am I doing? Four words. Every step seems to further emphasize the question. What. Am. I. Doing?

When I near room four, I finally understand the pod thing. A large room, containing six baby beds, curtained off individually for privacy, surrounds a nurses’ station. The soft sound of monitors beeping echoes in the space. The nurses speak in hushed tones.

A blond-haired woman stands. “Sebastian Sylver?”

I blink as I try to recognize her. Fuck, please don’t be another woman I can’t remember.

“Trinity Haven.” She flattens a hand on her chest, reminding me who she is.

I’m slightly relieved as I slowly recognize her. A little older. A little bolder in her professional uniform.

Between the Sylvers and the Havens, our families have quite a history. Now, an unspoken vow hangs between the families, one that involves us never speaking to them and them equally ignoring us. Trinity falls somewhere around Judd-Knox-Ford’s age. I can’t remember exactly who. The youngest Haven, Clint, had once been my best friend. His mom was the one who taught me to bake. Telling me I’d stay out of trouble if I could keep my hands busy. Too bad it hadn’t worked out that way for me when I was younger.