“Yes.” She dragged in a deep breath. “She couldn’t handle the whispers. The ‘bless her hearts’ whispered behind her back. More like knives than solace. She hit the restart button and moved upstate. But I... I couldn’t leave.” Holly looked up, her jaw aching as she clenched her teeth. “This is my home,” she said, filled with pride. “I love this town. I grew up in these marshes, fishing from the docks or further out in the ocean. I didn’t want to run away from a mess I had nothing to do with making. So, I stayed. And after college I came home and became the editor of theBugle, and I made sure that every story I wrote was built on facts. No secrets. No rumors or insinuation. Facts only.”
She let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I guess that’s why I’m so nosy. My professional goal is making sure no one else gets blindsided by a charming stranger with a secret agenda.”
It was a wonder Seb was still sitting here. She hadn’t meant to share so much. His tragedy was personal and hers… Well, it most likely ended any hope she had of an interview or a friendship. What business or tech icon would want to spend time with the daughter of a thief? She refused to acknowledge the tears welling, grateful her sunglasses hid her distress.
But Digby trotted closer, popping up on his hind legs in a clear invitation. She picked him up and cuddled him close. “I’ll tell Vince to give you a call so he can take over.”
“That wasn’t our agreement.”
She realized Seb hadn’t pulled away. His palm pressed close to her shoulder and then he tucked her closer to his side. His body was firm, the contact both exciting and comforting from her thigh to her shoulder. A grounding pressure that eased her worries instantly.
“The interview is yours,” he continued. “And if you’re intent on uncovering my secrets, let me ease your mind. There aren’tany, unless you count the occasional aggravated ex-girlfriend. I’m not a developer, I’m a strategist. My business revolves around computer languages and not much more.”
“I get that,” she murmured, stroking Digby’s silky ears. “But you’re also the man who bought the Marion estate. Around here, that gives you power. People will have opinions and concerns about what you’ll do with it.”
Starting with her. If he sold the lighthouse parcel to a developer—even an honest one—a piece of Brookwell history could be lost.
“Why is that relevant?” Seb asked. “I bought the estate for the view and the silence. I’m not focused on anything but minding my own business.”
“And yet you’re now part of a tight community with specific concerns and needs,” she reminded him. Looking up, she was caught in the heat of his gaze and words failed her. It felt as if electricity was arcing through her body. His mouth was right there, no more than a breath away.
Everything else faded away, disappeared, until the world was only about the two of them, and yet something sparkled like a galaxy of possibility inside her.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She dragged her gaze away from his lips and all the tempting questions they posed. “Super,” Holly said, clearing her throat and giving Digby her full attention. “At least now you have all my reasons and motivations behind my career.”
Seb nodded, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “Transparency. I get it.” He looked down at Digby, who was curled up tightly on her lap. “You’ve got a serious protective streak behind the reporter’s bravado.”
“Bravado?” She risked another glance at him. “I like that.”
“You embody it.” His smile sent a serious tingle through her. His gaze roamed the main street with all its shops. “I’mbeginning to get why you’re so fond of this place. Beyond the pastries.”
He winked and she was glad to be sitting down so her knees didn’t buckle. “It’s the community, Seb. You’ll see.” Determined to hold her composure, she leaned hard into the friendly tone she used for most interviews. “And as your official guide, I’m declaring this outing a success. You didn’t even need to smother a scowl with anyone.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Seb muttered, though the sparkle in his dark eyes told a different story.
They gathered up the last of their breakfast and were letting Digby sniff around when she caught sight of Scarlett, Grace, and Willow heading their way. Grace waved and Scarlett’s smile held a curious edge. There was no getting out of this.
“Oh, boy,” Holly whispered to Seb. “We’re on again. Try to look like you’re having fun.”
“I am,” Seb said, surprising her as he took Digby’s leash. “Mostly.”
She’d count that as a win. Holly beamed at her friends. “Good morning, y’all.”
“Hey,” Grace replied. “Breakfast al fresco?”
“Something like that.” Holly pointed to the dog. “We wanted to include Digby.”
Willow crouched down, holding her hand out for Digby to decide about greeting her.
“This is Sebastian Sterling,” Holly said. She indicated each woman in turn, “Grace Teague, owner of the Beach Belle. Willow soon-to-be Garrison, owner of the Palmetto Perk.”
“Excellent coffee,” Seb interjected.
“You’re welcome,” Willow laughed, taking a seat in the grass as Digby climbed all over her despite Seb’s best efforts.
“You must be carrying dog treats,” Seb observed.
