10. Alex Sebring
Chapter 10
Alex Sebring
Pulling into the service entrance of the Harbourview Grand, I park in a discreet spot behind the building. Hidden from view, it’s the perfect place—no curious glances, no questions. Privacy, the way Charleston and I want it and need it to be.
The door opens, and she steps out, dressed head-to-toe in black—sleek, understated, and stunning. The crop top clings in all the right ways, while the wide-leg trousers flow with graceful movement. Draped over her arm, a leather jacket adding a bit of edge. There’s a cool, unbothered confidence about her that I love, like she isn’t trying to be beautiful or noticed.
Even in heels, she’s still a good bit shorter than me, which makes the size difference between us stand out even more. She’s petite but has this perfect mix of strength and softness––not the kind of woman you’d break if you held her too tight. Everything about her pulls me in, like she was meant to fit me every way that counts.
Bloody hell, it’s like she was made for me.
By the time I step out and circle around to greet her, her gaze is already fixed on the car, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “A blacked-out G-Wagon? Why am I not surprised?”
Holding the door open for her, I grin. “What else would I drive? I’m a big bloke. I can’t exactly squeeze into a Fiat.”
Her laughter spills out as she slides into the seat. “Fair enough.”
The late evening sun filters through the branches of a nearby tree, casting shifting patterns of light. One stray beam breaks through, landing perfectly on her face—and the mystery is solved.
Her eyes—hazel. Light brown interwoven with green, flecked with gold that shimmers near the center, like sunlight scattered across amber glass. Her hair also surprises me. It’s lighter than I’d realized, streaked with natural honey highlights that catch the sunlight, shimmering like glitter woven into silk.
I pause, my hand resting on the edge of the door, caught by her sheer beauty. For a moment, I forget to move, I forget everything but the woman sitting in front of me.
Her brow furrows slightly, a hint of curiosity softening her expression. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just looking at your eyes. This is the first time I’ve seen them in daylight. They’re beautiful.”
She blinks, and a soft smile graces her lips. “Thank you.”
I close the door and walk around to the driver’s side, sliding in and glancing her way. “I have something special planned tonight. We’re going to a restaurant owned by one of my closest friends. But don’t worry—it’s completely private. She’s reserved a dining room just for us, so there’s zero chance of anyone seeing us together. But the best part is she’s an excellent chef and she’ll be cooking the entire meal for us.” I throw in a wink, adding, “Only the freshest ingredients for you, of course.”
Her lips curve into a small, appreciative smile. “Oh wow. That sounds amazing.”
I’ve taken Laurelyn’s advice to heart, and it’s time to show Charleston that I appreciate her concerns. “I want you to know that I understand how important it is to keep this under wraps.”
Her nod is small but firm. “Thank you for acknowledging that.”
“I don’t want you to worry. I’ve got it handled.”
“I believe you.”
We pull away from the hotel, and I ease into some light conversation. “How was your day?”
“It started with brunch, then I spent the rest of the day holed up in my room. I’m still trying to shake off the time-zone adjustment.”
I nod, watching the road. “Yeah, it can feel like you’re living in two time zones for a while.”
She laughs softly. “Exactly. I feel like I could sleep for days. But I think the worst of it is finally behind me. What about you? How did you spend your day?”
“Spent the morning at church with my family. After that, we had lunch at my parents’. All my siblings were there, so it was the usual loud, chaotic mess.”
“Sounds like a beautiful, chaotic mess to me.”
I chuckle. “Chaos, definitely. Beautiful? Not so much.”
“To someone like me, it sounds wonderful.”
Her words stir something deep inside me, a quiet reminder of how lucky I am to have the kind of family she’s never had. Tonight, I appreciate them a little more than I did this morning.
I ease the G-Wagon into the narrow alley behind Chloe’s restaurant, killing the engine. The kitchen’s service entrance is ahead, tucked discreetly out of sight from the bustling main street. Stepping out, I make my way around to open Charleston’s door.
She raises a curious brow. “You must know the owner pretty well if we’re sneaking in through the back.”
I grin, holding out a hand to help her out of my vehicle. “You could say that. Chloe and I grew up together. She’s a close friend.”
Charleston’s heels click softly against the pavement as she steps out, smoothing her outfit. “A close friend who is a chef and happens to own a restaurant? Lucky you.”
“Lucky indeed. She’s an incredible chef. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.”
Chloe wouldn’t have had to work a day in her life if she’d chosen not to. Being a McLachlan comes with privileges, but it was her choice to work. She built this place from the ground up, pouring herself into every detail and earning every bit of her success on her own. Every plate served, every seat filled—it’s all her success built with her own determination.
The service door swings open as we approach, and there she is––all smiles while wearing her crisp white chef’s jacket. Her bright blue eyes light up when she spots us.
“Right on time,” she beams, pulling me into a quick, familiar hug.
I return the hug with a squeeze. “You’re a lifesaver, as always.”
When she steps back, her gaze shifts to Charleston, her friendly smile tinged with curiosity.
I gesture toward the woman by my side, feeling an awkwardness settle over me as I search for the right words. “Chloe, this is… uh.” I falter, my usual confidence momentarily escaping me. “This is my friend Charleston. Well, that’s what I call her—because that’s where she’s from.”
Chloe arches a brow, her words playful and carrying a hint of teasing. “Please tell me you aren’t up to some of that weird shit like Jack used to do.”
I chuckle, amused. “It might be something like that.”
Chloe’s lips twitch, amusement crossing her face as she holds back a full grin. Tilting her head slightly, her smile never falters. “Nice to meet you. Should I call you Charleston, too?”
Charleston nods, the corners of her lips curving enough to hint at a smile. “Sure, that works.”
Chloe’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she glances at me. “Charleston it is then.”
Chloe guides us through the kitchen, weaving past bustling chefs and simmering pots, the air heavy with the mouthwatering aroma of garlic, fresh herbs, and roasting vegetables. Beside me, Charleston takes it all in, her gaze drifting with quiet interest over the organized chaos as we make our way toward the private room tucked at the back of the restaurant.
When we step inside, Chloe gestures toward the intimate setup—soft, dim lighting, candles flickering gently on a small table for two, and a window offering a breathtaking view of the harbor. The room is quiet, a world away from the clatter of the kitchen and the hum of the dining room—exactly the atmosphere I’d hoped for.
“Do you have any allergies or dietary restrictions I should know about?”
Charleston shakes her head with an easy smile. “I don’t.”
“Perfect.” Chloe’s grin widens, her enthusiasm shining through. “Tonight’s menu is completely farm-to-table. I sourced everything locally—some of it straight from the markets this morning.” She ticks off the dishes with effortless precision: “Grilled lamb with rosemary, caramelized baby carrots, fingerling potatoes, and a beet and goat cheese salad to start. For dessert, a lemon tart with fresh berries. And to pair with the lamb, I’d suggest a bottle of Jack’s shiraz—bold, peppery, and just right for the flavors. How does that sound?”
I glance at Charleston, her eyes lighting up and her smile widening. “That sounds incredible.”
“Wonderful. I’ll send Frederick in to take care of you. Whatever you need, just ask. I’ll be in the kitchen making sure everything is perfect.”
Chloe gives me a quick, playful wink before slipping out, the door clicking shut behind her.
“Thank you for bringing me here. This is such a lovely surprise.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
The private dining room feels like a secret tucked away from the world, a perfect retreat for a night like this. Charleston glances around, her gaze sweeping over the intimate space. “This is beautiful.”
I nod, a small smile forming. “Chloe has a special talent for ambience, kind of like someone else I happen to know.”
A mix of amusement and curiosity cuts through her expression. “Is that so?”
Her fingers trail lightly over the edge of the tablecloth as her gaze sweeps the room again, her professional eye clearly at work. “Well-chosen elements. The textures—velvet against dark wood—are inviting and harmonious. And the low lighting creates intimacy without feeling oppressive. It’s perfectly balanced.”
She looks at me, and her eyes are alight with that spark of passion I noticed earlier. “This space works because it’s designed to make people feel connected and comfortable.”
I watch her as she speaks, her words flowing with confidence, the language of her world. “You really love what you do, don’t you?”
Her gaze shifts to mine, and for a moment, her expression softens—unguarded and open. “I really do.”
Frederick moves in and out of the room with practiced ease, setting down water glasses and pouring the first round of a rich shiraz. Charleston lifts her glass, cradling it delicately as she takes a sip. Her eyes close briefly, savoring the taste. “Mmm. This is delicious.”
I swirl the wine in my glass. “Chloe knows wine. She’s got a real knack for pairing it with food just right.”
Frederick returns with the first course, a beet and goat cheese salad drizzled with honey. Charleston takes a bite, her expression lighting up. “This is incredible. I didn’t think I cared for beets, but this changes my mind.”
I chuckle, cutting into mine. “That’s Chloe for you—she can win over anyone with her food.”
The main course arrives, and Charleston leans in with a contented sigh. “This is cooked to perfection. If all food in Australia is like this, I might never leave.”
Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself caught up in the simple joy of watching her savor the food.
Frederick tops off our wine and quietly slips out, leaving us alone again. I glance at Charleston, searching for the right way to ease into the things I need to say. But the words sit heavy in my chest, tangled with nerves. I’m not usually one to stumble over what to say, but with her, it’s different.
We keep the conversation light—travel, the quirks of Australian slang, and the best dance clubs in Sydney—even though my mind isn’t fully on it. Each time I try to steer things toward something more serious, the moment doesn’t feel quite right, and I back out at the last second.
I take another sip of wine, hoping it’ll settle the restless energy humming beneath my skin.
Frederick returns to clear the plates, leaving the soft glow of candlelight between us. Charleston leans back in her chair, letting out a contented sigh. “I’m stuffed, but I’ve never turned down a dessert in my life, and I don’t plan to start tonight.”
I like a girl who’ll eat and doesn’t pick at her plate or pretend she’s not hungry.
Charleston is about to have her mind blown. “Dessert is Chloe’s specialty. You’re in for a real treat.”
Frederick reappears with a delicate lemon tart, perfectly topped with fresh berries and a light dusting of powdered sugar. He sets it down with a quiet smile before slipping out, leaving us alone again.
Last course of the meal. The moment feels as close to right as it’s going to get. “Have you given much thought to what we talked about last night?”
Her fork pauses midair, and she looks up at me through thick, dark lashes. “I don’t think there’s been a single moment since last night that I haven’t thought about it.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it either.”
The sincerity in her eyes draws me in, but there’s also hesitation. “This is scary for me. Being in this private room eases my fear, but being in public with you is scary.”
Her words reveal a fear deeper than I’d realized, slicing through my confidence. “What can I do to take that fear away?”
Her expression softens, her eyes searching mine, but she shakes her head. “I don’t think you can.”
I nod slowly, letting her words settle. Laurelyn’s advice comes back to me, clear as day: She has to feel safe if this is going to work.
This isn’t about finding the perfect thing to say—it’s about proving it through actions. Trust isn’t something you promise; it’s something you build.
“We can avoid public places and stick to private settings where there’s zero chance of your coworkers seeing us. How does that sound?”
Charleston hesitates, then nods slightly. “Private places would work.”
Encouraged, I press on. “You wouldn’t be able to stay in the room next to them since there’s the possibility of them seeing your comings and goings. I would move you to one of the penthouses on the top floor which has its own private lift. That would eliminate running into them in the hotel.”
Her eyes widen, a flare of surprise breaking through her composure. “No, I can’t let you do that.”
I shake my head, brushing off her concern easily. “You need to be in a place where we can move freely without worrying about running into your coworkers. You’ll tell them there was an issue with your room, which isn’t a lie—being so close to them is an issue. And for the trouble of moving from a room you’ve already settled into, the hotel upgraded you at no expense. No fuss. It won’t raise suspicion—just a bit of envy.”
She says nothing, her eyes wide.
I chuckle softly, holding her gaze. “What do you think of that?”
Her lips curve into a small smile. “It would definitely make things easier if the chances of bumping into them in the hallway or the elevator are eliminated. I hate being put in a position where I have to explain where I’m going, where I’ve been, or why I’m dressed the way I am.”
It’s not a yes, but not a no either.
A wave of relief settles in me, a quiet hope that we might actually make this work. “Things will come up along the way, but we’ll handle them. We’ll make smart decisions to keep this quiet and protect our relationship from being discovered. I know I’m asking for a lot, and I don’t take the risk to your career or reputation lightly. I understand what’s at stake for you, and I will protect you.”
I hold her gaze, ensuring she feels the sincerity in my words. “You’d be the one in control every step of the way. If something doesn’t feel right, you say the word, and it stops.”
For a moment, she studies me, her anxieties and what-ifs visibly easing. The tension in her shoulders melts away, her face softening as the lines of worry fade. Watching her begin to relax stirs something deeper within me. This isn’t only about staying hidden—it’s about trust. And in this moment, I can see that a seed of trust has been planted, fragile but real, and I’m watching it start to take root.
For a moment, the quiet stretches between us, but it’s not awkward. She seems to be turning over what I’ve said, her gaze thoughtful as if weighing the possibilities against her reservations.
“You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into how to make this work around my situation. And while I appreciate the lengths you’re willing to go to keep this hidden from my coworkers, I’m still struggling with the fact that you’re looking for a wife, and I’m not looking for a husband.”
Her honesty stirs a surge of worry in me, but I push past it. I knew this was coming. “I understand that. I’m fully aware you’re not looking for marriage, and that’s okay. I’m not asking for any kind of commitment. I’m only asking for whatever time you’re willing to spend with me while you’re here.”
Her expression shifts to something almost apologetic. “But I’d be keeping you from finding what you’re truly looking for.”
“You wouldn’t be holding me back. This is my choice—to push my timeline back a few months. What’s three months in the grand scheme of things?”
Her lips twitch as if she’s fighting a smile. “You’re going to have a counter for every reason I come up with, aren’t you?”
“Abso- fucking -lutely.” I flash her a grin, enjoying the way her guard starts to slip.
There’s a spark of curiosity in her eyes now, a gleam that wasn’t there before. “You’ve really thought this through every step of the way, haven’t you?”
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. “I have. And I’ve got you, Charleston. If you’ll take a chance and trust me, I’ll keep you safe.”
I can feel it—she’s close to saying yes. Her hesitation is fading, her posture a little more relaxed.
It’s time to seal the deal.
Recalling Jack’s advice, I lean in slightly, a playful grin tugging at my lips. “And I’ll give you the time of your life. The best three months you’ve ever had.”
Charleston arches a brow, a smirk curving her lips as her eyes narrow slightly. “Cocky much?”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” My grin widens, meeting hers head-on. “You weren’t disappointed last night, were you?”
“Oh… you… orgasm… giving… devil… you.” Her cheeks flush a soft pink as she bites her lower lip, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I definitely wasn’t disappointed. Which, honestly, was a first for me. Men don’t usually get that so… right.”
I chuckle, her words lighting a fire of satisfaction inside me. “You deserve every orgasm I give you. And trust me, there will be plenty more.”
Her blush deepens as she laughs softly, shaking her head. “With promises like that, you’re making it damn near impossible to say no.”
“That’s the plan.”
There’s a playful spark in her eyes, edged with thoughtfulness. “I see that.”
I won’t back down—I never do. Giving up simply isn’t in my DNA. And it’s time to lay all my cards on the table. “I’m going to tell you the whole truth.”
Her confident gaze falters for a moment, a quake of nerves crossing her face. “I would have it no other way.”
I take a steadying breath, the truth pressing against my chest, demanding to be spoken. “I want you, Charleston. I’ve wanted you since the first time we spoke in the dating suite, straight away, before I even knew what you looked like. And then when I saw you… you took my breath away. But it’s more than the physical. It’s the way we connect, the way you make me feel when I’m with you… and even when I’m not with you. This is easy––like I’ve finally found someone I can be myself with.”
Her smile wavers slightly. For a moment, I question myself, wondering if I’ve taken it too far, if I’ve said more than she’s ready to hear. But even if I have, I don’t regret it. Not one word.
Charleston leans forward a little, her expression softening, a quiet smile playing on her lips. “You know what I like best about you?”
“My charm and dashing good looks?”
Her laughter bubbles up, light and easy. “While that’s all quite appealing… no.” She pauses, her gaze holding mine. “You make me feel seen and heard. And that makes me feel safe with you.”
Everything Laurelyn said about Charleston was spot-on, and I owe her a heartfelt big thank-you.
“You’re always safe with me.”
If we’re really going to do this, she needs to know the truth—at least some of it. I can’t lay it all out yet, but she deserves a warning.
I take a steadying breath, preparing myself. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She twists her mouth into an exaggerated grimace, her eyebrows shooting up. “Uh-oh.”
“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I just think it’s important to be upfront about some things.”
“Upfront—I like that.”
This feels like the right moment to offer her a sliver of truth. “It’s true that my family owns luxury hotels, and I’ve recently stepped into the family business. But before that, I had a different career—one that made me fairly well-known. Because of that, it’s in my best interest to stay out of the public eye as much as possible.”
“So privacy is something we both value.”
“Very much so.” The shadow of past experiences creeps in. “I don’t like my relationships to be publicized. In fact, I can’t stand it. My life—especially my personal life—should remain private.”
Her gaze softens with understanding. “It absolutely should be private if that’s what you want.” She pauses, studying my face with a quiet intensity before letting out a thoughtful hmm . “And now you’ve got me completely curious about who you are.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I will tell you if you want to know.” But I’d rather not.
A playful glint sparkles in her eyes as she considers it. “We don’t have to tell each other. It could be kind of fun if we didn’t, don’t you think?”
I’m pleased to see she’s open to the idea of anonymity. “Can I tell you a story?”
“Of course.” She leans in slightly, curiosity lighting her eyes.
“It’s about my best mate—the one who recommended Soul Sync to me.”
“Go on,” she prompts.
“He had… let’s just say, a complicated experience with a woman. It messed him up for a long time. He couldn’t bring himself to trust women after that.”
Sympathy softens her expression. “That sounds truly awful.”
I nod. “It was. For years, he couldn’t handle a traditional relationship. So instead, he started dating women through arranged agreements—set for a specific amount of time, no strings attached, no real names. Just two people, keeping it simple. That was his way of living for years.”
Charleston’s lips quirk up, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Much like what we’re talking about doing?”
“Similar, yes. His arrangement had their differences—more like role play, I suppose you could say.”
She props her chin on her hand, her fingers lightly curled against her cheek, curiosity dancing in her eyes. “What happened to your friend?”
I’m glad she asked. “He met the one. They’ve been married for ten years now. Got four kids. He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.”
Her brows lift, surprise lighting her features. “Four kids? That’s a lot.”
I chuckle, the sound coming easily. “Yes, four’s a lot, but it’s not six.”
A warm expression settles in her eyes. “Beautiful chaos.”
The words settle over me “Yeah, beautiful chaos.”
Charleston sits quietly, her expression thoughtful as she seems to weigh her options. After a moment, she gives a small nod. “Let’s do this.”
An explosion of satisfaction ignites in my chest. “Yeah?”
Her second nod is firmer, more certain. “Yeah, I want to do it.”
I exhale a quiet sigh of relief. “All right. First order of business—getting your things moved to the penthouse. I can call now and have someone handle it while we’re out unless you’d rather do it yourself.” I flash a teasing smile. “Don’t worry, nothing will go missing. You have my guarantee.”
“I’m not worried about that. Go ahead and arrange to have my things moved. I trust your people.”
A teasing grin tugs at my lips. “Should I warn them about dirty knickers on the floor?”
Her laughter lightens the moment. “I don’t leave dirty knickers on the floor.”
I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my contacts. “What room are you in?”
“Oh, 7714,” she says, her lips curving with a trace of amusement.
I tap the screen, dialing Gigi, the manager of the Harbourview Grand. The call barely rings once before she answers. “Good evening, Mr. Sebring.”
“Hello, Gigi. I need a favor. The guest in room 7714 needs to be moved to one of the penthouses for the remainder of her stay—around ninety days. A complimentary upgrade.”
There’s a brief pause before she responds. “Certainly. May I have the guest’s name?”
For a moment, I falter. “Her name is… you know what? It’s completely slipped my mind. But the room number should give you all the details you need.”
Gigi’s laugh is soft and professional. “Not a problem, sir. I’ll sort it out and handle the transfer.”
“The guest isn’t in the room at the moment, but she’s given her permission for her belongings to be moved now.”
“Understood, Mr. Sebring. We’ll take care of it.”
“She’s a special guest. Treat her as a VIP.”
“Of course, Mr. Sebring. Consider it done.”
I hang up and slide my phone back into my jacket pocket. Charleston’s gaze rests on me, her expression warm with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Chloe comes into the dining room, wiping her hands on a towel draped over her shoulder. “So, what did we think of dinner?”
“The meal was great.” I glance at our untouched desserts. “We’ve been so caught up talking we haven’t even made it to dessert yet.”
Charleston shakes her head. “It wasn’t great—it was extraordinary. I’ve never had anything like it.”
Chloe’s grin widens. “I like this one, Big Al. You should keep her around.”
Big Al. I cringe inwardly at Chloe using her pet name for me. It doesn’t reveal my real name, but it wouldn’t be hard for Charleston to figure out that Al is short for Alex.
“Thanks for coming in and doing this,” I say, steering the conversation back to safer ground.
Chloe plants her hands on her hips, shifting her weight to one side. She takes a deep breath, her gaze lifting to the ceiling like she’s trying to keep her emotions in check. “I had to do something to get my mind off Ben.”
Her breath hitches, and she quickly presses a hand to her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry, guys.” She sniffles, offering a weak smile as her gaze shifts from one of us to the other. “Charleston, you must think I’m a right drongo.”
Charleston shakes her head, her voice warm and reassuring. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I definitely don’t think you’re a drongo … whatever that is.”
I stand and wrap my arm around Chloe’s shoulders, pulling her into a firm hug. “Come here, Clover.” My words soften as I lean in. “I’m really sorry you’re going through this.”
Chloe exhales a shaky breath, melting into my embrace. “I’m sorry for ruining your date,” she mutters against my shoulder.
“You haven’t ruined a thing,” I say firmly, leaving no room for doubt.
“Nothing is ruined.” Charleston offers her a warm, reassuring smile. “Everything was perfect.”
Chloe pulls back slightly, her eyes red but filled with gratitude. She glances at Charleston, her lips quirking into a playful smile. “This big bloke here is one of the good ones, you know.”
Charleston’s gaze meets mine, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I’m starting to see that.”