“The van’s coming.” Morrigan's ears twitched before I heard its tires crunch over the gravel. “Wait, though. Will you tell me what upset you so badly today?”
“Nothing.” Sebastian picked up his glass. “I’m fine now.”
“You know…” He resisted any attempt on my part to get him to meet my gaze. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“Really. I’m fine.” His lips curved upward in the first fake smile I’d seen on Sebastian’s face.
It was an insult—graffiti on a sacred work of art.
I knew I shouldn’t press the issue. Not then, anyway. Not with Molly bearing down on us with meatloaf and mashed potatoes and her arsenal of wine.
But maybe we could spend some time alone later.
The situation was foreign to me. I’d never wanted to share quiet confidences in the darkness with anyone but Serena. But I sensed nothing about Sebastian was what it seemed, and I was worried about him.
If I didn’t get the chance that night, I’d make it happen sometime because I had to know what had upset Sebastian so badly it had knocked his legs from underneath him.
It wasn’t idle curiosity on my part.
It was more like the compulsion Molly talked about. The desire to be in the presence of a wild thing. To understand it, deep down where it was different from me, an untamed piece of divine creation.
How could I help the man who had become so important to me—who made me see things I didn’t know were there and want things I didn’t understand—if I didn’t know what was bothering him?
Chapter Ten
Bast
Dinner that night was meatloaf and mashed potatoes with broccoli au gratin. Delicious and hearty. We ate under the awning as a thick mist crept ashore from the sea. After dessert, Molly was ready to go back, and I wasn’t tired. Stone offered to walk Molly home with Morrigan. I would be glad for the time alone with Stone’s menagerie before he came back.
Though I’d tried explaining that I didn’t get any kind of sexy vibe from Stone, Molly still wanted to matchmake. She was just tipsy enough to give me a few exaggerated winks before heading out.
I couldn’t fault her for it. She knew people. She could see Stone and I lived lonely lives, and that we got along great. It was just like her to try to give us a little push.
If I thought he wanted me, even a little, I’d have worked harder, but I believed what Stone wanted was to take me under his wing, punch out guys who messed with me, and change the oil in my car.
Molly said, “Oh, ye of little faith,” and flipped me off with both hands before leaving with him.
While they were gone, I did the dishes, except our wine glasses, which were still half-full. I hoped Molly wasn’t making some sort of sales pitch about me. Sometimes she was a great PA, and sometimes she wanted to play wing man. She had a good heart.
Four padded feet thumped up the stairs and Morrigan came around the corner before I heard Stone’s heavy treads. As she brushed in behind me, I saw a cloud of dog hair attach itself to my jeans and laughed.
“What?”
“Don’t ever try to commit a crime. Morrigan’s a DNA dispensing machine. I took home a whole dog’s worth of fur on my clothes last night.”
“Yeah, she sheds some.”
“Understatement of the century.”
“I see you couldn’t help yourself.” He acknowledged my hard work as he sat on the couch. I dried my hands before folding the towel over the handle on the oven door.
“It’s a sickness. I can’t go to anyone’s house without washing their dishes.”
“Your mother raised you right.”
I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped me.
“What?” His look of confusion made me laugh harder.
“I’ve never seen my mother so much as rinse a glass.”
His bright-blue eye focused on my hands. “So how’d you get so well mannered?”
“Because…” I spent a few seconds deciding how truthful to be. “Because the world was alien, and I wanted to blend in. I love parties, so I picked someone I thought was good at them and learned to do the things he did.”
Stone stared at me, unblinking.
“What?” I folded my hands. “Is that too weird?”
“No. I just never heard anyone admit that.” He frowned. “A lot of people feel alienated. It’s a natural thing, choosing a mentor and emulating them when you feel out of your depth.”
“It seemed like a good way to go about things at the time.”
There was very little left in our second bottle of wine, so I poured the rest between our glasses and joined him on the couch.
“What about your mom?” He took the wine I offered and gazed at it thoughtfully.
“What about her?” I picked a wad of fur from my trousers and let it fall to the floor.
“Was your mother a role model in any way?”
I swallowed a laugh. “You could say Mom’s more of an object lesson.”
He chuckled. “So who is this person who taught you to do the dishes at other people’s homes?”
“My friend Enzo.” The memory of a couple shows on the catwalk with Enzo Giancarlo made me smile. “Everyone adores him. He knows wine, always brings treats to a party, and never leaves without helping the hostess tidy up. Even if it’s just to take things into the kitchen for the maid, he insists. His hosts enjoy doing the dishes with him more than their parties. He sings while he works. I thought, that’s who I want to be.”
“He sounds like a good person.”
“Comme si, comme ça.” I grimaced. “Fun people aren’t always good people. But he is, mostly.”
Knees bracketing Morrigan’s big body, Stone played with her soft ears. Her expression was pure rapture. She leaned her head against his thigh while he stroked the fur on her neck.
Abruptly, he said, “Can I ask you something, Sebastian?”
“Sure.”
“What triggered you today?”
I sighed and put my glass down. “Dang it, Molly.”
“She wouldn’t tell me anything.” He flushed. “I asked, and she said to ask you.”
“I can’t talk about it.”
“I understand.” He tilted his wineglass toward the light and looked through it. “I have a hard time talking about what happened to me.”
“It’s not that. I’ve made my peace with the past.” I really couldn’t talk about what happened because it related to part of a lawsuit that ended with a very specific NDA.
“Have you?” He gave a light laugh. “I wish I could do that. It’s different when you have to look at the result of your trauma every day in the mirror.”
“There’s no comparing one person’s trauma to another’s. Things affect people differently.”
“Agreed.” He put his glass down and studied his hands. “I’m sorry I brought it up. When I saw how upset you were, I wanted to help is all.”
“That’s kind of you. And likewise, I’d do anything I could to help you out. But it isn’t clear what you need.”