10. Sebastian #2
“No. It’s okay. Let’s enjoy our dinner.” She opens the bottle of wine between us and fills our glasses with a generous pour. “Um, is the horse okay? The one you went to see today?”
“Yes, she’s fine. Pregnant, is all.”
“Oh, wow. Gotcha.”
“Tell me about it. The owner had no idea. Apparently, there was a stallion visit she’d forgotten about.
” I take another bite of chicken, surprised to find I’m already halfway through my plate.
It turns out Flick’s cooking tastes even better than it looks—the meat tender and flavorful, the vegetables perfectly roasted.
“How was your day?” I ask. “Besides cooking this amazing meal?”
“I just dyed some yarns here, then I had a doctor’s appointment, then after that I came back home and dyed more yarns before you got here.” She takes a long sip of wine.
“How was the appointment?” I put my fork down, giving her my full attention. surprised at how intensely I wish I could have been at that appointment with her.
Assuming she would even want that—and I know that I’m getting ahead of myself. Still, I don’t like thinking of her going to appointments all alone. It must get tiresome…and sometimes scary.
“It was fine. Just a routine check-in with my rheumatologist.”
Something about the way she says it—too quick, eyes not quite meeting mine—makes me think she might not be telling the whole truth. But I’ve learned that pushing doesn’t help with Flick. She shares when she’s ready.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
She nods. “Yes, I just?—”
She trails off at the sound of delicate crunching, and we look over to see Cat at her tiny bowl, eating some dry food with the dedication of someone who’s never been fed before.
“Look who made it,” I say.
“She probably worked up an appetite destroying half the place,” Flick says, although she’s not even done speaking before she’s checking the little drinking fountain to make sure there’s enough water for the kitten.
I chuckle.
“What?” She shoots me a look.
“Nothing.”
“Mm-hm.” She sits back down and I don’t say anything else, but we both know what’s up. She’s falling in love with this kitten.
Just like I’m falling for her.
“Would you like to see what I dyed today?” Flick’s voice pulls me out of my abrupt reverie.
“Of course.” I put my napkin on the table, already standing.
Leaving her own half-eaten dinner, Flick leads me into a room off from the kitchen. “This is my craft room. Studio. Office. All of the above.”
The amount of color in the room is mind-blowing. The yarns hanging from wooden racks are bright pink, soft lavender, baby blue. The late afternoon sun streams through the window, making the fibers glow like stained glass. The sharp scent of vinegar mingles with something sweeter—vanilla, maybe.
“It’s like we just walked into a real-life version of Candyland,” I say in awe.
She whirls around to face me. “Really? Because my collections are called Sweet Like Candy and Have Your Cake.”
I know that, of course. I’ve already thoroughly researched her online. “And they’re aptly named.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” She says, smiling quickly but avoiding eye contact.
Odd.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask again softly, tipping her chin up so her eyes meet mine.
She nods, but I can tell it’s a lie by the way she nervously twists the fabric of her dress in her hands.
“Flick,” I say gently, stepping closer to her. “Talk to me. I can tell something has been bothering you since we talked on the phone earlier. Was it your appointment? If something is wrong, you can tell me.”
She opens her mouth and then shuts it again as if she doesn’t know what to say. Her eyes look conflicted and uneasy. “I think...” her voice cracks and she swallows hard. “I think someone is watching me.”
My stomach drops. “Watching you?” I repeat, making sure I heard her correctly. “What do you mean?”
She takes a deep breath and tells me everything—the DMs, the increasingly personal comments, how they somehow knew details about her day that she hadn’t shared anywhere.
I listen without interrupting but by the time she’s done with her story, my pulse is racing and it’s taking every ounce of my control not to tear the entire island apart looking for whoever is behind scaring Flick.
“—at first, I thought I might be imagining things or blowing it out of proportion, but now I’m not so sure. The messages today really freaked me out.” She finishes with a shrug.
“Flick, you’re not imagining things or blowing anything out of proportion. This sounds serious.”
She looks relieved but still worried. “I didn’t want to bother you with it. It might just be an internet troll trying to scare me.”
“No,” I say firmly. “This isn’t something to brush off or ignore. You’ve got every right to be scared. I’m glad you told me.”
The vulnerability in her eyes tugs at my heart. “What should I do?” She whispers.
“First, we’re going to lock down your accounts—I can help you tighten up your security settings and block this person sending you messages tonight. Then we’ll look into security cameras for the doors.” I rub her cheek gently with my thumb. “You’re not alone in this.”
She leans into my touch, closing her eyes for a moment. “Do you think that will be enough?” She asks.
“If it’s not, we’ll do more. Anything it takes to keep you safe.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“Hey, I got your back,” I say, pulling her into a hug. “Always.”
Her arms hang loosely over my shoulders, and my hands find their way to her waist—their new favorite place to be. There’s an eyelash on her upper cheek, and when I softly brush it away, her breath hitches.
I catch her gaze, drinking in their myriad of colors. Brown gives way to gold, gives way to green, gives way to amber. It’s like watching the seasons unfold right in front of me.
Ducking my head, I brush my lips against hers. Gentle and slow as it is, there’s nothing tentative about the kiss. We’re taking our time, savoring the perfection of the moment.
The kiss deepens, and a primal hunger rolls through me. Framing Flick’s face with my hands, I explore her mouth with my tongue, savoring every millimeter I can find. She moans softly into the kiss and presses her body closer to mine.
She breaks off the kiss, her lips swollen and cheeks flushed.
“Now that you’ve seen the office...” Flick’s hands tighten on my shoulders. “How about the bedroom?”
My heart races at the mention of it. With my pulse roaring in my ears, my hands shaking from raw desire, I don’t even trust myself to speak. So I just nod and, once again, let her lead the way.