Page 85 of Sterling Heat

I glance up to see Sebastian’s brother in full military dress looking miserable as he walks down the street, subtly waving at people who all stand and applaud him.

“Such a hero,” Emory Milton sighs. “Just like his daddy once was.”

A disagreeing hum from Trudy accompanies Sebastian’s sudden choking fit.

“Well, we need to be on our way.” Emory’s voice is too high as she snaps out of some memory triggered by watching Knox march down the street. “Nice to finally meet you, Enya.”

“You, too.”

Emory moves along but Trudy lingers a second, timidly grinning before addressing Adara with a final shake of her leg. “We don’t pay that woman any mind in this town.” She straightens and looks directly at Sebastian. “And you know better than to pay any attention to her either.”

Trudy’s words are a combination of tough love and gentle reminder. The look she gives Sebastian isn’t pity but compassion, like she’s familiar with him and his family. She knows his past.

“You need anything, you still have my number, right?” Trudy says to me.

“Yes, ma’am.” I can’t imagine what I’d need from her, but you never know. As Trudy catches up to her friend, I realize I never introduced myself to Emory, and yet she knew my name. She really does make it her business to know who lives here.

When they are out of earshot, I turn to Sebastian who keeps his gaze on the parade. However, his eyes look distant, haunted even. “How do you know Trudy?”

“Small town.” He answers in a snap, thick with snark. Then he squints, still avoiding a glance at me. “She was my mother’s best friend, from what I’m told. My dad didn’t let her come around once our mother was gone.”

There’s a story there but I don’t press. Instead, I ask a different question. “Why did you do that? Why did you play into them thinking you were Adara’s dad?”

Sebastian glances down at Adara, studying her face near his shoulder. “Didn’t even think twice, I guess. Plus, our story . . . or your story isn’t any of their business. Emory Milton is just a nosy, bitter bitch, and she’s been trying to ship Stone and Emerson for years. It’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because Stone isn’t into town politics, even if he sleeps with the mayor on the regular.” Sebastian speaks toward Adara, like he’s imparting wisdom to her. “There’s a reason my daddy didn’t end up with her mama when they were young.”

Definitely a story for another day.

“Still . . . Back to you claiming we made Adara. You don’t need to do that. I can fight my own battles. I’ll right the rumors.”

“And tell people what?” Sebastian glares at me. “Half this town thinks she’s mine, and that half doesn’t even matter. As for the other half, I don’t care what those people think either.” He pauses, watching me. “Unless you do. Unless you’d rather people didn’t think I was her dad.”

The whiplash happening with this man sometimes is worse than being in a car crash. He doesn’t want to be a dad but he’s willing to pretend he’s one. It’s too confusing, and dangerous, for both Adara and me.

“Don’t be silly. If you were Adara’s father, I’d be very proud of that fact.” Prouder than the truth, which my parents found unforgivable.

Sebastian gazes down at Adara, who is scooting against him, making her way into a particular position she likes to be held against him, which involves dangling her head and an arm over the crook of his elbow. She’s settling in for a nap when it’s almost feeding time.

“I just thought maybe you wouldn’t like to be called her father. It cramps your—”

Sebastian glares so hard at me, I stop short of accusing his style of being cramped by the daddy rumors.

“Let’s get something straight. The only style I have . . . the only one I want . . . is this.” He jostles Adara in his arms, emphasizing his stance.

For a man who doesn’t want to be a father, he’s fallen for my baby.

But has he fallen for me?

+ + +

Once the parade is over, people filter into a green space near the downtown area with their foldable chairs and large blankets. Food trucks line the street along one edge of the square and the community gathers for a giant, public picnic.

I hadn’t planned ahead, but Sebastian has us covered with a bag of fresh bread, cheese and cold meats, plus fruit and a lemon cake with frosting that’s melting in the heat.

He fights a smile every time people come up to him, making faces at Adara and saying how cute she is. No one questions if Sebastian is the father. Gossip is accepted as gospel, I guess, and I only worry for when the truth comes out. That truth being that Sebastian isn’t Adara’s dad.