Page 36 of Sterling Heat

Rena’s deep-green eyes snap up to mine. She chews at her lower lip but not a hint of remorse or apology comes from her. If I could read her mind, I bet she’s telling me we don’t need our hands for what she wants from me.

Fuck. I swipe a flour covered hand through my hair. I do not need these kinds of disturbing thoughts in my head. I don’t want any issue with my employee.

“I need a minute to clean up,” I mutter.

Rena doesn’t respond as I round the front counter and glare at the door Enya just exited, almost willing her to return.

Then, I remind myself the bakery is my only priority.

Along with keeping myself out of the kind of trouble that comes from having wishful thoughts about a woman and her kid.

Chapter 11

[Enya]

For days, Sebastian and I flow around each other. He’s up early. I rise shortly after him and ‘do what I need to do’ as he calls it. Then I shower, head down to the bakery for breakfast-on-the-go and leave for another day at the hospital. Sebastian often shows up in the late afternoons.

The hours are consumed with concerns about Adara. Her breathing tube has been removed but the feeding tube remains to assist her weight gain. The doctors would like her to be at least double her birth weight before she can be discharged. Either that, or Adara removes the feeding tube herself, which is a clear sign she’s ready to feed on her own. I still can’t nurse her; forced to bottle feed her instead. The nurses warn me not to be upset if Adara never takes to breastfeeding because of her current situation.

In most respects, I’m fortunate. My little cookie only needs to grow before she can leave the hospital. Some of the sorrowful tales I hear floating around me in the NICU remind me to be grateful. Be patient. My daughter will come home with me soon enough.

Guilt over leaving Adara hits me every time I exit the NICU, but the nurses and a social worker have told me I need the break. Time outside of the hospital. Outside of thoughts about Adara. I don’t have much else going for me, though, as I’m on twelve-weeks of maternity leave and without my new home.

When I checked in with my contractor earlier today, he told me he wanted an additional week, but I’m done waiting for my house.

“I needed to be in there, like a week ago,” I argued. Initially, I was promised the construction would be complete two months before Adara’s due date. When that didn’t happen, I still thought I’d have time to be settled before her arrival. Best laid plans and all. With her early birth, I’d given the contractor two weeks to finalize my house.

Strangely, I’ve become accustomed to calling Sebastian’s place home and I’m a little uneasy about leaving his apartment. There’s a subtle comfort being in his place. The way we move about, like we’re in tune with one another, like we’ve been together for a while.

He cooks. I do dishes.

He watches television. I read on the couch.

One night, Sebastian suggests we watch a movie together. I quickly warn him I can’t watch anything that involves rape or pillaging, or kidnapping.

We are flopped on his couch. He sits in the section that has an extension piece, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles. Opposite him, I curl against the thick and supportive armrest.

As the television warms up, Sebastian turns his head toward me. “I’d never let that happen.”

“What?” I say, craning my neck to look at him over my shoulder.

“Any of those things. I’ll always be here for you and Adara.”

“That’s so sweet, but you can’t protect us every second of every day.” Wouldn’t that be nice, but it’s just not humanly possible. Besides, Sebastian has a life outside of Adara and me. He isn’t beholden to us. We’re only temporary in his life, but I can’t help hoping he’ll permanently be in ours as the friend I need.

“Enya. I’d never let anything happen to either of you. Ever.” As he stares at me, I stare back, slowly accepting he means every word.

He’s so different from Lance. It’s been a while since I’ve thought of my ex. Being around Sebastian, who is truly giving of his time as well as open with his living space, I have a new impression of the ideal man compared to the man I once thought was infallible.

“I know,” I whisper, surprised by an overwhelming desire for him to be that person in my life. The person who wants to look out for me and my little girl. Love us. Protect us. I’d do the same for him.

However, we’re friends and I’m not in a position for more. For romance and rustling around a bed. I have Adara to think about and my own heart to consider. I’ve already taken the route of pretty words, which led to unfilled promises. I won’t be on that road trip again, nor will I bring my daughter along for such a ride.

Any man who wants into our lives must accept we are a package deal, and that deal demands loyalty and commitment. The desire for family and marriage. Love.

Sebastian has been abundantly clear on his stance. He doesn’t see himself ever being a father. Which is too bad because his acting skills—pretending he’s Adara’s dad—are even fooling me.

He’s so sweet with her. The way he speaks to her, calling her name with such tender emotion in his rugged voice. The way he holds her to his chest. Unfortunately, there are no longer displays of his naked skin and Adara swaddled against him. Not even in his apartment do I see him shirtless as he wakes early and leaves before me. I don’t need to see him without a shirt, though. It’s probably better that I don’t, but it’s still been a shame not to get an up close and in the flesh view of him.