Chapter One
Coffee. Sebastián needed coffee. Preferably in IV form, administered stat.
An entire week loomed ahead of him, full of cameras and microphones and intrusive questions and strangers and too-tight spaces. Full of Lucy and the prospect of her imminent departure.
Not since high school had he confronted such an exciting array of horrors, and he hadn’t missed that tug of dread deep in his gut. It was a familiar but unwelcome companion, dragging him by the hand into shadows.
So yeah, if he didn’t plan to break his promise to his best friend—and he wouldn’t, although he knew she would react to his about-face with her usual easygoing acceptance—he could at least ensure he remained adequately caffeinated, despite his pre-dawn awakening and early arrival at work.
Despite the entire day of—God help him—filming that awaited him.
His fellow early-bird coworkers had gathered around the employer-provided gourmet coffee machine, their version of an old-school water cooler. But he didn’t have any choice in the matter. He couldn’t wait them out, not this morning.
They moved aside so he could reach the machine, and their conversation—something about sacks and yardage—continued while he filled his stainless-steel mug.
Only Deirdre greeted him with a nod, her silver-streaked ponytail swinging. “Morning.”
She still hadn’t given up on him, even after a year. Nice lady, but entirely too persistent.
“Morning.” He nodded to her and swiveled toward the mini-refrigerator. Just a splash of milk, and he’d be—
“We were just talking about the game last night. Are you a football fan, Sebastián?”
At her question, all the other engineers turned to him, and he paused.
Football didn’t interest him. Fútbol was more his speed. But they didn’t need to know that. If he told them, maybe they’d make a snide comment about how much “foreigners” loved soccer, and maybe they wouldn’t.
To be fair, they probably wouldn’t.
He still wasn’t willing to risk it.
“Sure,” he said, pouring the milk carefully into his mug.
Bill, the resident expert on all things sports-related, brightened. “Any particular team? The Rams? The Raiders?”
Sebastián never should have told them he’d moved from California, but how could he avoid a direct question without damaging his already-tenuous relationships with his colleagues? And how could he get out of this conversation with speed but without outright rudeness?
“They’re all great.” A quick sip from his mug established that he’d added enough milk. “Listen, I need to get going. I’m leaving work early today, and I have a few projects to complete before then. Have a good day, everyone.”
A forced smile, this one directed at the whole group, before he made his escape.
One obstacle down. But compared to what lay ahead of him, an entire day of public exposure and claustrophobic rooms and Lucy, the conversation at the water cooler was nothing. He’d need to keep a tight lid on himself. More so than usual, even.
At his desk, he put in his earbuds and started a MATLAB simulation running. And when Deirdre called across the room and asked him where he was going later that day, he pretended not to hear.
* * *
“This cozy cabin is one hundred and twenty square feet, has one sleeping loft, and comes in ten thousand dollars below the top end of your budget.” Allie gestured toward the dilapidated wooden shack nestled among the trees. “I think it’s a great option for you.”
Lucy pursed her lips, attempting not to laugh on camera. Cozy was clearly real-estate-agent code for ridiculously small.
Sebastián said nothing, just studied the structure in silence. Then again, Lucy hadn’t expected him to express his opinion without prompting. After all these years, he was unlikely to change his communication style, whether or not cameras and a boom mic hovered nearby.
“What are your first impressions?” Allie asked.
Lucy searched for a diplomatic answer. “I love the setting. Very tranquil.”
Sure, she wouldn’t actually live in this area much longer, and the house didn’t come with the property. But maybe viewers wouldn’t remember that.
“You won’t leave much of a carbon footprint with this option.” Allie’s smile seemed brighter than normal. Wider too. “And what an opportunity to make this place your own with a few minor updates!”
More code. By a few minor updates, Lucy assumed Allie meant extensive renovations to keep your flimsy new home from collapsing under the weight of an errant chipmunk.
Allie rapped on a piece of dry, cracked siding with her knuckles. Then, when it creaked ominously at the contact, she snatched her hand away. “Just look at the lovely natural patina of this wood.”
Ah, yes. Patina. Also known as dry rot.
Ostensibly, Allie was talking to her, but Lucy’s friend and real estate agent kept both eyes on the camera at all times.
And during each break in filming, she didn’t hang out with Lucy and Sebastián.
Not even to tell them one of her notoriously dirty jokes or share recent pictures of her kids.
Instead, she kept company with the crew, asking them questions and dropping tidbits from her own résumé.
For years, Allie had talked about leaving what she considered the stifling confines of Marysburg, not to mention the orbit of her feckless ex-husband.
Lucy just hadn’t realized the search for a tiny house was meant to serve as her friend’s exit plan.
She should have, though, when Allie had pushed her to apply for Tiny House Trackers.
And really, Allie should grasp this opportunity.
Her friend deserved the future of her dreams. If Lucy had hoped for a bit more support during this process, that was a problem with her, not Allie.
This was, it seemed, yet another occasion in which Jarrod’s complaints about Lucy’s na?veté had proven correct.
Even two months after their breakup, she could still hear his voice. His disdain.
She slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirt. Her worry stone—amethyst for calm—slid into her palm, a welcome and familiar weight. She rubbed her thumb against the smooth, cool surface as she contemplated her first tiny house possibility.
She turned to Sebastián. “What do you think?”
“What I think isn’t important.” He stepped closer to her, his black hair shining almost blue in the dappled forest sunlight. “This experience is all about you. So what are your initial thoughts?”
She bit her lip. “I’d hoped it would be a bit bigger.”
At least two hundred square feet, as she’d told Allie. Big enough for Hairy Garcia, her energetic golden retriever. Big enough to have room for her massage table.
“Well, you wanted a tiny house!” Allie laughed, but her eyes narrowed in warning. “You need to be realistic, Lucy.”
A comment she’d heard before, too many times. Lucy studied the leaves underfoot, her thumb circling and circling.
“I believe she asked for at least two hundred square feet.” Sebastián widened his stance, his right eyebrow cocked. “This is significantly smaller than that.”
Her shoulders unknotted, and she let out a slow breath of relief. Yes. Yes, that was exactly what she’d have said to Allie, if only she’d had enough confidence in her own position.
Typical Sebastián: always on her side, always her champion. From the very beginning.
Ever since he’d transferred to Marysburg High as a junior, he’d defended her from anything that might hurt her, even while he’d fended off countless bullies of his own.
Too many of their classmates had proven eager to hassle the new kid in school, a Guatemalan-American boy who hadn’t grown tall or strong until well after graduation.
A boy who refused to cower or back down no matter what was said or done to him.
A boy who gradually shut off all visible emotional reactions to make himself an unsatisfying target for his persecutors.
A boy who became her best and most faithful friend.
Her battles, her wounds, had not been nearly as vicious or bloody as his.
Still, he’d tried to protect her to the best of his ability.
He might not have ever expressed his affection for her in words—she suspected he might not even be able to do so—but he’d demonstrated that affection so many times she couldn’t doubt it.
Behind a fold of her skirts, where the camera couldn’t see the gesture, she took his hand in hers.
It was broad and warm and strong now, vital and electric.
A man’s hand, not a boy’s. But it was still the hand of the best champion an easily hurt teenage girl could have had.
She gave his fingers a squeeze of gratitude, and then let him go, before someone could draw the wrong conclusion about them.
Someone like her, for example.
She’d always thought that someday, maybe…
But it wasn’t going to happen. Not now, as she prepared to move halfway across the country.
No matter how enticing he appeared in that formfitting Henley and those well-worn jeans.
No matter how soft and warm his eyes became when he looked at her.
No matter how her fingers tingled when they touched.
The camerawoman moved closer to Allie, capturing her tight smile in response to Sebastián’s matter-of-fact challenge.
“Yes, Lucy wanted a slightly bigger house. But the supply of tiny houses in this area of Virginia is limited, as you know. That said, I’m sure we’ll find a great option among the choices I’ve located.
Lucy just needs to be flexible.” Allie headed for the door, which rose high above the forest floor because of the trailer beneath the house. “Let’s go inside.”
Lucy let Allie and the crew precede her. Sebastián stayed by her side, as she’d anticipated.