Finally, I step outside, then close and lock the door behind me. I turn to find all three men waiting on the sidewalk. Immediately, I feel Arlo’s eyes on me, but not in the same way I usually do. Worry is etched in his expression for me. Boston leans over and says something to Arlo, then he gets into his car and leaves.
“Boston said he found nothing,” Sebastian tells me as he glances around. “Good to see you again, Arlo.” Then he goes to the car, climbs into the back seat, and shuts the door.
Arlo and I are now basically alone.
Setting his hands on my arms and then rubbing them up and down, he says, “Come home with me.”
“No.”
“I’ll find her,” he insists.
Meeting his gaze, I ask, “How?”
“I’ve already got others looking into things. I will find her.”
“Okay. When you do, I’m yours,” I tell him.
“That’s a large statement to make.”
“I’m telling you the truth. Find her for me.”
“And if you don’t like what I find?” he asks.
“What does that mean?” His phone beeps, and my stomach bottoms out, my heart racing as he ignores his phone. “What are you expecting?”
“What if she did run away? What if she ran away with him?” he questions.
“She would never have done that. Trust me.”
“You seem to be sure of that.”
“One day, Arlo, when you let someone in, you’ll be sure of their actions and motivations,” I tell him.
“I hope that day is soon.” As he pins me with his gaze, he leans in and kisses my cheek, his lips lingering there. And I let them. Because it feels good, and, believe it or not, he’s starting to become a comfort to me. I’m not even sure when that happened. “Good night, beautiful. Try to get some sleep,” he whispers near my ear before he straightens. I keep my gaze trained on him as he strides away until I can no longer see him.
“Woman, get in the car and stop dreaming about that man.” I turn to find Sebastian holding the car door open for me. I was so focused on Arlo that I never even saw him get back out of the car. “I think you should marry him,” he proclaims as I climb into the back seat.
“W-What?” I stammer.
“Marry him,” he states as if that’s the answer to everything.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? When was the last time you were with a man who was this obsessed with you? A man who shows up in the middle of the night because you asked him to. Kisses you good night even after he asked you to go home with him, and you turned him down?”
“Arlo doesn’t want marriage,” I tell him, to which he makes a screeching sound, making me jump.
“So, you’ve thought about marrying him.” His eyes spark with excitement.
I shut the car door, and we leave Delaney’s house.
“I know what you’re doing,” I say. “And, no, I have not thought about marrying Arlo. He simply isn’t that type.”
“So, why does he send your mother flowers every week?” The question hits like a slap, my mouth parting as I blink at him, struggling to form a single word. Did he also pay for her care? It had to be him. He is the only person I know with that much money at his disposal.
After blinking a few times, I say, “He what?”
“I found the florist and talked to them after you mentioned it. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was him.” He shrugs. “I confronted him about it while you and Boston were inside. His response was, and I quote, ‘Because I know she would never accept them.’” He then starts to fan himself. “That man has fallen hard. And I think you’re falling too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t agree to keep seeing him.”
