Chapter 5
Five
“Shit.” Sebastian stared after Laurel, one hand still on Ginger’s flank, reeling as if she’d sucker punched him.
He’d thought he could just ignore the attraction, avoid acting on it, and things would be fine.
He hadn’t counted on her calling him out.
And he sure as hell hadn’t expected her to put it all back on him.
That was…uncomfortable. It made him realize his avoidance tactic depended upon her feeling like all this was her fault.
That made him a coward and an asshole. He’d spent too much of his life trying not to be those things to let this stand.
Turning Ginger out to pasture, he sucked it up and headed to the big house to find her and apologize.
The front door was, as usual, unlocked. He slipped inside, striding toward the kitchen in the back, where he heard the sound of water and low strains of music.
Her back was to him, her hands thrust into the sink of soapy water.
All that rich, brown hair was bundled into a messy knot, exposing the length of her slender neck.
For a moment he could only stare, imagining what it would be like to slip his arms around her and press a kiss to her nape, feel the length of her body pulled flush against him.
The image stirred him more than he wanted.
Adjusting his jeans, he stepped into the room. “Laurel.”
On a little shriek, she half turned and a plate slipped out of her soapy hand. As it shattered against the wood floor, she hopped back on bare feet, trying to get away from the shrapnel. “Ow!”
Sebastian leapt across the room to scoop her out of harm’s way.
He set her on a stretch of counter. Her hands, still soapy, clutched at his shoulders, and his fingers curled tighter around her hips.
He wanted to step into the V of her thighs and take that smart mouth.
To lose himself in the taste and feel of her.
And from the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed, she’d be on board.
She’d been clear enough, hadn’t she? This was why he’d avoided touching her again.
Because once he started, he didn’t want to stop.
But he didn’t have any business pursuing those things with her.
Forcing himself to release her, he made his voice light. “You okay?”
“Christ Almighty, do you always walk like a damned cat?”
His lips curved at her breathless indignation. “You’re a jumpy thing, aren’t you? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her brows drew down into an adorable scowl that did nothing to dim the frustrated lust simmering in his blood. “I’m going to put a bell on you.”
“There are probably some sleigh bells around here somewhere. Let’s see about this foot.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t step on anything. I just got caught in the crossfire.”
Examining the cut himself, he decided she was right. He handed her a paper towel to press to the wound. “Here. Put some pressure on it, and I’ll clean this up.”
Sebastian felt her eyes on him as he found the broom and dustpan and swept up the broken bits of pottery.
She knew he wanted her and clearly didn’t understand why he was fighting it.
With the low hum of arousal in his blood, he was trying to remember why himself.
She’d said her piece back in the barn and now it was his turn to say… something.
Dumping the last of the shards into the trash, he pulled out the first aid kit to tend her cuts. She jolted a little as he took one delicate foot into his hands. His gaze flicked up to hers before coming back to his work. “I’m sorry.”
He meant it as a blanket statement, but of course she didn’t let him off that easily.
“For what exactly?”
His hands were a lot more competent at first aid for her injured foot than his brain was at spitting out actual words. “For hurting your feelings.”
“My feelings aren’t hurt.” Despite her cool, matter-of-fact tone, he knew they were, at least a little.
Dousing a cotton ball in alcohol, he gently cleaned the wound. She hissed. He blew on the spot, trying to ease the sting, and Laurel went very still, her whole body tensing. But it wasn’t pain he saw when he glanced up at her face. Awareness sharpened those long-lashed hazel eyes.
The woman valued honesty. He’d give her what he could. “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you.”
“Yeah, I figured that out. So what’s the problem?”
Dabbing a bit of antibiotic cream on the cut, he fixed a bandaid over it. “It’s just…you’ve got a lot on your plate. A lot of decisions facing you. Big, life-changing ones. It’s not the right time to make that harder or muddle it with emotional complications.”
“Nice try, making it all about me. But that’s not why you pulled back.”
No, it wasn’t. He hadn’t expected her to pick up on that. “You sound awfully confident for someone who doesn’t know me.”
“I’d like to.”
Christ, don’t hand me that temptation. I’m only so strong. “Laurel…”
“No really. I don’t know what it is you think I’m looking for here. I do not have visions of forevers and white picket fences. It’ll be years before I can even entertain the idea of that.”
That had his head coming up to study her face. She believed it. Had clearly accepted this as her fate. But he could see the yearning underneath. She might not think she could have those forevers and white picket fences but, deep down, she wanted them.
“Why would it be years?”
“Freshly-graduated attorneys have no time for a life.” The stiffness came back to her shoulders. “In six months, I’ll be lucky to see the outside of my firm.” At the last, her breath shortened. He could all but see the panic stalking her.
Not on my watch.
When he scooped her off the counter, her arms twined around him and she tucked her face against his throat.
The show of vulnerability scraped away another layer of his defenses.
Tightening his hold, he carried her into the living room and sank down on the sofa, cuddling her close, ignoring how good she felt tucked up against his body.
“Breathe.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not doing this on purpose.”
“I know.” Sebastian stroked her back and murmured like he would to one of his horses, waiting until the tension bled out. “Why do you want to be an attorney?”
Settling her head against his shoulder, she sighed. “That’s not a simple question.”
“I’ve got time.” Even if he didn’t, he’d have made it for her.
“You know I’m a fair bit younger than Logan.
I was the surprise baby. My parents thought they’d gotten what they wanted on the first go—a son who’d carry on the family name and follow in our father’s footsteps.
They loved me, but I was often a little of an afterthought.
All the focus was on Logan. I adore my brother, but I was jealous, too.
I kept wondering what I’d have to do for them to see me. ”
“Did you act out? Rebel?”
Laurel snorted. “About as far from that as I could get. Has Logan ever told you about the whole debacle of grad school for him?”
“Just that he studied psychology and decided in the long run that being a therapist wasn’t a good fit for him.”
“He was supposed to go to law school. That was The Plan for as far back as I can remember. Dad is, as you know, a lawyer, and our grandfather—Mom’s dad—was a federal judge.
When Logan went into psychology instead, Dad was disappointed.
I think he’d always had visions of some kind of father-son firm.
I was a senior in high school at the time, and I saw my chance.
I was smart and competitive and I actually liked the law, so I decided I’d take a pre-law track and do everything he’d expected Logan to do.
I had the grades and the academic chops to pull it off, and I was determined to earn his attention. I know that sounds pitiful.”
If only she knew what he’d done in the name of earning attention. “No. I think it’s natural to want our parents to be proud of us. We’re wired to want that.”
“Well, Logan apparently short-circuited that wiring because he bailed on grad school entirely. He was done with his Master’s coursework and had been accepted to a PhD program.
All he had left was defending his thesis.
Our parents were furious. I think they’d have been furious either way because we were taught from a very early age that you finish what you start, and he walked away without ever defending.
But the fact that he chose to become a farmer—that just killed my Dad.
He came from humble beginnings, and he always wanted more.
He worked his ass off, and he got it. The idea that Logan would choose something he considers lesser is, as you’ve observed, a massive bone of contention. ”
It would probably be rude of him to point out that her dad sounded like a snobby, entitled douchebag. “Yeah, I got a sense of that.”
“So right in the middle of all that, I announced I intended to pursue the law. Part of it was hoping to take some of the heat off Logan and part was because…I wanted to be the golden child for once. And I was. Dad noticed, and he loved that I shared that interest with him. I loved the praise and attention. When I got into Vandy for law school, he was over-the-moon excited. So was I, to start. I loved the challenge. That sense of competition and drive took me a long way. But Vanderbilt is one of the best law schools in the country. I’ve had to push so fucking hard to keep in the top one percent of my class.
Which…really, was fine. I don’t mind hard work.
But as it’s getting closer and closer to the actual reality of getting out of law school and really being a lawyer, that’s when the anxiety started to take hold.
And it all came to a head when I got offered that position up in New York. ”
“Which is what, exactly?”