Chapter 7 #2
Lucy gripped the worry stone in her fist and gave herself a minute to return to the present. To consider what her friend—or former friend, as the case might be—had said and whether it rang true even apart from Lucy’s own insecurities and doubts.
Deep breaths. In through the nostrils, out through the mouth.
After a few seconds, her pulse no longer thrummed in her ears. Her head cleared. She knew what to say.
“Allie.” She spoke quietly. “You’re a very good real estate agent, and I’m sorry I didn’t consider your position in all this.”
Allie dropped her arms to her sides. “Good. So can we just—”
This argument, her old friend’s anger, would have gutted Lucy a week ago. But something about the filming process, about these past three days, had allowed her to remember her own needs, to regain confidence in her own judgment.
She couldn’t let this conversation derail her now.
“I’m not done.” Lucy took another slow, deep breath. “Again, I should have understood your circumstances better, and I apologize. That said, you owe me an apology too.”
“What?” Allie’s brows drew together. “I—”
“The accusations you just made may or may not be true. Either way, they weren’t a kind thing to say to a client and a longtime friend.
Also, my supposed na?veté doesn’t change any of the crucial facts.
I’m not buying this house. I’m not buying any of the houses.
And I don’t plan to lie or mislead property owners on cable television.
If that’s what you wanted me to do, you should have told me so from the beginning—in clear language—and I’d have refused to apply for the show. ”
Allie shook her head, arms akimbo. “I thought you understood the situation, Lucy. Any normal person would have.”
Lucy wasn’t letting herself be sidetracked.
Not this time. “You should have let me know you hadn’t found workable tiny houses before filming began, but you didn’t.
Probably because you wanted to prevent me from backing out.
And you should have listened instead of ignoring me when I tried to talk to you two days ago.
We could have stopped filming then, before we were both put in this position. ”
Sebastián was standing near the door of the wagon, watching them both. Making sure she was okay. But she was. For the first time since she’d met Jarrod, she really was.
“I don’t think I’ve been unkind about the options you showed me.
” She refused to break eye contact with Allie, despite the other woman’s obvious anger.
“I’ve merely been honest. If you expected anything from me but honesty, you haven’t been paying much attention over the past thirty years of our friendship. ”
After she’d said her piece, she felt lightheaded and unsteady. But Sebastián was suddenly beside her, his hand on her elbow keeping her upright. And she didn’t regret anything she’d told Allie. She wouldn’t beg for forgiveness or flagellate herself for being who and what she was. Not anymore.
Allie released a breath through her nose. “This is ridiculous.”
“Maybe so,” Lucy said. “But if you ever speak to me in such an unprofessional way again, consider yourself my former real estate agent.”
Turning her head, she caught Jill’s eye. “Can we finish filming now?”
“Sure.” The woman offered her a thumbs-up from the wagon’s doorway. “You heard her, people. We’re in the home stretch!”
Allie brushed past Lucy, but Sebastián stayed put. In fact, he looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him, giving her a fierce squeeze.
“You okay?” His voice was low and concerned.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“That…” He shook his head a little. “That was magnificent.”
“That was long overdue.” She drummed up a small smile. “I’m not a huge fan of conflict, as you might have noticed.”
He kept looking at her, those dark eyes soft. And he wasn’t letting her go. In fact, he hitched her even closer, until they were pressed together front-to-front. Through the thin fabric of her tie-dyed tunic, the heat of his hands seared her back.
“The sparkle is back,” he said, confusingly.
She looked down at her top. “That’s my other tunic. This one doesn’t sparkle.”
“Yes, she does.” He lowered his mouth for the length of a breath, his lips gentle and warm and seeking against hers. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see it.”
She clung to him as he kissed her again.
His mouth courted hers, rubbing and nuzzling, until her lips parted beneath his.
Then his tongue touched hers for the first time, and in the space of a single moan, a single shudder, the embrace exploded into raw carnality.
He was squeezing her ass with one hot hand, cradling her skull with the other as his tongue dueled with hers, twisting and exploring and claiming.
He tasted like the tart apple he’d eaten for breakfast, and he smelled like sea salt and sage and damp skin.
Like her friend pushed to the edge of endurance, heated to the point of combustion.
She plunged her fingers into his hair, the inky strands a cool contrast to the furnace of his body, and he groaned at the touch of her fingers against his scalp.
Sucking her lower lip into his mouth, he nipped it, licked the spot with his tongue, and soothed the sting.
She whimpered, and he shook against her. One of his legs nudged between her thighs, and he bent her backwards, her weight supported by his strength alone.
His cock nudged against her hip, hard with urgent need, and she wanted her hands on it. Her mouth. She wanted to make him come and demand the same in return. Sebastián would make it good. He’d give her what she needed in bed. The time, the effort, the skill. The trust.
She was pressing against his leg, shameless in her desire. Growing swollen and slick and achy from the fierce display of possession and passion, totally unexpected from such a controlled, careful man.
Then he was levering her back to her feet, keeping his hands on her arms until she could stand unsupported. He stepped away, his lips swollen and damp from hers, a furrow between his brows.
She blinked at him, dazed.
Wow. Oh, wow. He’d reached for her. Kissed her. Slid his hand down to her ass and cupped it. Told her she sparkled.
She’d considered her hopes foolish, a product of wishful thinking. But maybe those erections of his hadn’t been generic, after all. Maybe they’d had a brand name on them. Her name, in huge, throbbing, tumescent letters.
And goddess knew, after everything that had happened the last few days, Lucy’s vagina might as well have Sebastián Castillo emblazoned on it.
She frowned. In it? Along it? Vaginal emblazoning was a linguistically confusing matter.
“You folks ready?” Jill called out from the wagon door.
“I am,” Lucy called back. “Ready and willing.”
From the heat that flared anew on Sebastián’s cheekbones, he knew exactly what she meant.