Page 69 of Hate To Be Mine

He found his dream spot. I loved that I got to help him get that. It made me feel connected to him.

I was already making notes, my brain cataloguing everything we’d need for the environmental impact statement. I walked the perimeter, taking measurements with the app on my phone, noting landmarks and GPS coordinates. It would absolutely work.

When I looked up, Sebastian was watching me with a goofy smile on his face. It made him look less like a cocky model and more like a guy who was happy. Maybe even smitten?

For me? Couldn’t be.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing. Just watching you work. You get this little crease between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating.”

I touched my forehead self-consciously. “I do not.”

“You do. It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute. I’m professional.”

“You can be both.” He walked over, and for a second, I thought he might kiss me. Then I remembered we weren’t actually a couple. “You’re also smart. And thorough. And kind of sexy when you’re all serious.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But I’m also right.” He looked out at the water. “We’re going to make something beautiful here. Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to both of us,” I corrected. “It was your vision.”

“But you’re making it possible.” He turned back to me. “Most people in my life just tell me yes to everything. You tell me no when I need to hear it. But you also help me figure out how to make the impossible possible. I like that about you, Little Bee.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know how to handle Sebastian Blackwell looking at me like I was something special, something more than just the insurance rep or the pain-in-the-ass rule follower.

“We should get them to take some photos,” I said, because I needed to do something other than stare at Sebastian’s face and feel things I wasn’t ready to name. “For the environmental report.”

“Right. Yeah.” But he didn’t move. Just kept looking at me with that soft expression.

“Sebastian.” The word was a barely a whisper. It could have been a plea. It was all the things. I so wanted him to kiss me.

But Sebastian Blackwell didn’t randomly kiss women like me. He kissed women like Clarissa. I had to remind myself this wasn’t more than it was. I knew he was attracted to me, but we were literally on an island and the options were limited. Yes, there were models, but maybe he’d already been there and done that.

Or maybe he didn’t mix business with pleasure.

That left me.

Was I just a leftover?

I shook off the thought and reminded myself I was going to enjoy the fantasy. When we landed back in New York, it was back to the real world.

25

SEBASTIAN

She was the best distraction. I wanted to stand next to her and just be in her presence.

And I had no idea what that even meant. I had never wanted to just be in someone’s space before. But when it came to her, it was like a gravitational pull. She settled me. Like an anchor my soul didn’t know it was missing until I met her.

I forced myself to move away and let her work. I made my way over to where the photographers were standing with their hands on their hips as they evaluated the area.

“So we’d position the model here,” I said, pointing to the spot where the water met a shallow rocky outcrop. “She rises from the water, arms positioned like the Botticelli.”

“I don’t know, man,” Reese, one of my photographers, said with a shake of his head. He squinted at the location. “The light is good, the background’s good, but I need to see someone actually out there. See how the proportions work and where the water level hits. Without that, I can’t commit to saying this’ll work.”