Chapter 24
BERNADETTE
Iwoke up slowly, awareness creeping in piece by piece. There was something solid beneath me that was definitely not a mattress.
And it was so warm. And moving.
I opened my eyes and realized I was draped across Sebastian’s chest, my head tucked under his chin, one arm thrown over his torso, our legs tangled together.
Oh.
Oh no.
This was not maintaining professional distance. This was the opposite of professional distance.
I should move. Should scoot back to my side of the bed and pretend I didn’t climb on top of him in what was probably an erotic dream I couldn’t remember.
Dammit.
I should definitely not be noticing how good it felt to be draped on him like I was the blanket.
I could feel the heat of him through the fabric of his cotton tee.
And clearly I wasn’t the only one seeking the connection because his arm was wrapped around me.
He was holding me in place. Maybe he pulled me on top of him.
I liked that idea better. I didn’t want to have to admit I was the one to initiate the contact.
I couldn’t resist taking a little peek. I wanted to know what a sleeping Sebastian looked like.
I wanted to see him when he wasn’t trying to be the guy he presented to the world.
And I knew he wore a mask every waking minute.
I understood it. Especially after his little outburst in the pool.
He pretended not to care about anything.
Pretended he was some vapid, hard body with no cares in the world.
I knew better.
I ever so slowly pulled my head back and turned with my chin resting on his chest. His face was relaxed, peaceful, looking younger without the cocky smile or the careful charm. Just Sebastian, unconscious and vulnerable and holding me like I was his favorite snuggly.
I let myself have the moment. Just for a few minutes.
I let myself pretend he was mine and I had every right to stare at him and think about waking him up with my mouth on him.
I inhaled the scent of him. I allowed myself a precious few moments to appreciate what it felt like to wake up in someone’s arms instead of alone in my sterile apartment.
It felt good. Too good. Which was terrifying.
Because I knew it wasn’t real. We’d known each other less than a week.
We’d slept together once and then immediately agreed it was a mistake.
We were from completely different worlds.
This was just, what? A vacation fling? A moment of insanity on a tropical island that I’d look back on with embarrassment once I was back in my real life?
Except it didn’t feel like a fling. It felt like something that could matter. Something that could hurt when it ended.
And it would end. That was inevitable.
But he called me Little Bee.
Why did that matter?
It was silly and probably a bit of insult, but it felt good. I was going to ask him why he called me that later, but it didn’t hurt to pretend it was a term of endearment for a little while.
Sebastian stirred beneath me, his arm tightening around me slightly before he started to wake. I quickly scooted away, rolling to my side of the bed and making a show of rubbing my eyes like I’d just woken up.
“Oh man,” I said, stretching. “I can’t believe we fell asleep like that.”
He blinked at me, still half-asleep, his hair adorably mussed. “Mmm. What time is it?”
I checked my phone. “Six-thirty.”
“Shit.” He sat up, running his hands through his hair. “We should get moving if we want to scout that location before the regular shoot starts.”
Part of me had been hoping he’d roll over and kiss me.
Pull me back against him. Turn this into the kind of morning that involved significantly less clothing and a lot more touching.
I wanted him. Yep. There it was. The cold, ugly truth.
I wanted him to climb on top of me and have his way with me.
I wanted a screaming orgasm, and not the alcoholic drink of the same name.
I wanted sex on the beach. Damn. Did I want to get laid or drunk?
But there would be no morning delight. He was already getting out of bed, talking about the schedule for the day.
It wasn’t as good as sex with him would have been. But I was excited anyway. I was looking forward to spending the morning exploring different parts of the island together. We wouldn’t be alone, but still, it felt like a date. And I would take whatever I could get.
“I’ll go change,” I said, sliding out of bed. “Meet you in twenty minutes?”
“Perfect.”
I went back to my bungalow, trying to ignore Annika’s knowing look when I walked in.
I changed into practical clothes for exploring.
Some cute shorts, one of the Blackwell Couture tank tops because apparently even tanks could be couture.
My sturdy sandals weren’t sexy, but breaking an ankle was even less sexy.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail and put on a little moisturizer.
When I met Sebastian, he was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt with a backpack slung over one shoulder and his phone in hand, already pulling up maps.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
“Morning,” one of the photographers greeted cheerfully. “Sebastian says we’re on a location scout. Birth of Venus, right? That’s ambitious.”
“That’s the idea,” Sebastian confirmed.
We climbed into one of the vans and headed out.
The drive took us along coastal roads winding through areas that were even more remote than where we’d been shooting. The ocean sparkled to our left, endless and blue. And so damn beautiful.
We stopped at the first potential location, a small beach tucked between rocky outcroppings. The water was calm, protected by natural barriers. It could work.
Sebastian and I walked along the sand while the photographers hung back, taking test shots of the light and angles. The wind played with my ponytail, and I could taste salt in the air.
“Here,” Sebastian said, gesturing to a spot where the water met the sand. “This could work. The model could stand right there, water around her ankles.”
“The sand slopes too steeply,” I interrupted, making notes on my tablet. “See how it drops off? She’d have maybe two feet of safe space before the depth becomes dangerous.”
“Okay, but what if we moved over there?”
“No.”
He sighed but didn’t argue. We kept walking, his arm occasionally brushing mine, both of us wanting to touch but aware of the guys behind us.
At the next location we both stopped and surveyed it. He focused on the beauty and I was absorbed by all the danger. It was a cove with interesting rock formations, and while I could see how pretty it was, the rocks made me nervous.
“Look at this,” Sebastian said. “The rocks create a natural frame. We could have her emerging from between them.”
He stepped closer to the water’s edge, and I saw it—the slick rock shelf hidden just beneath the surface. My brain went into full-on alert mode with all the red flashing lights and sirens blaring.
“Sebastian!” I grabbed his arm and yanked him back just as his foot started to slip.
He stumbled into me, catching his balance, his hands going to my shoulders to steady himself. “Whoa.”
“Dammit, Sebastian. Are you trying to void your own insurance policy? That rock shelf is slippery as hell. You could have cracked your head open.”
“My hero,” he said, and before I could process what was happening, he pulled me into a hug.
It wasn’t a friend hug. Friend hugs were brief, platonic with a quick squeeze and release.
Maybe a couple of pats. Sebastian wrapped his arms around me, holding me close, our chests pushing against each other with his face buried in my hair.
I was melting into him. I had my hands flat against his back.
I inhaled, taking in that masculine, slightly musky scent and completely forgetting we were in public.
I ignored that little voice trying to remind me there was supposedly nothing going on between us.
“Thank you,” he murmured against my hair.
“You’re welcome. Now be more careful.”
He pulled back but kept one hand on my waist.
One of the guys cleared his throat behind us. “Should we keep looking?”
Sebastian’s hand dropped from my waist. “Yeah. Let’s keep going.”
We visited two more locations, but neither was quite right. Too rocky. Too exposed. Wrong angle for the light.
Then we found it. The cove was perfect. It was tucked away from tourist areas, protected by a natural breakwater that kept the surf calm.
The water was crystal clear, shallow enough that I could see the sandy bottom, gradually deepening in a safe, predictable pattern.
No rocks. No coral. Just pristine sand and gentle waves.
“This is it,” Sebastian breathed. “This is perfect.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the wonder in his voice. I was not a creative. I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body. But I understood passion. I knew what it felt like to find exactly what you were looking for.
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.