“Almond milk and monk fruit.”
“The stevia and oat milk were better,” I grumble. “And my creamer would be best.”
“Your creamer is not good for you. The doctor said—”
“That being locked away in jail for murdering my ex-boss would not help me recover,” I mutter. But I take another sip. It’s not horrible now that I know what to expect. And a cup of coffee in hand is worth two in the bush.
Or whatever the saying is.
He grins and turns to my dresser, then opens the underwear drawer.
“What are you doing?” I squeak. I’m fully aware of just how many times I’ve said that to Sebastian in the last few days. And I’m not a fan of it either. “Close that and walk away,” I demand.
“Babe, I thought you’d want me to pack panties.” He pulls out a pink lace bikini brief. He dangles it from a finger. “I approve of your taste in lingerie, but if you prefer going commando, who am I to complain?”
With an exasperated huff, I jump out of bed to grasp my underwear back, then sway slightly from the too-swift movement.
“Hey, hey, hey.” His smile disappears, and he pulls me into his arms.
I shiver at the feel of his skin on mine.
He sets me back to sit on the bed, his touch so gentle and his face so concerned.
When he brushes my hair back from my face, I lean into his caress, like I’m a cat being petted.
“You okay?” he asks in a rough whisper.
I nod, unable to meet his concerned gaze. “I got up too quickly. I’m fine. Other than wondering why the hell you’re putting my underwear in my overnight bag.”
“Matt sorted out the RSVP to the Mancini house party. So I’m packing you for Napa.”
He turns to open my second drawer, inspecting a delicate black nightgown I spent way too much money on years ago. I bought it for a special night with a situationship. I ditched the guy. Kept the lingerie.
“Details, Sebastian,” I order.
He finally leaves my unmentionables and gives me the full force of his attention. I tremble inside, just a little, but hide it.
“We’re leaving this morning.”
He turns back around, opens the third drawer, and pulls out a pair of leggings.
I yank them out of his hand.
“Don’t you know me at all? I’d never pack leggings for a trip. And I’d never allow you to pack for me. I’d end up with nothing but thongs and crop tops.”
“You don’t own a crop top.” Then he pauses. “Do you?” he asks, almost hopefully.
CHAPTER 27
Sebastian
“You should knowme better than that, Sebastian. No crop tops. No crop anything. Ever.” She shakes her head, and I catch a slight wince.
That wince underscores why it’s so important that I take her to Napa. It’s not quite rational, but it is visceral. I know she’s going whether I like it or not. Because she’s stubborn and hell-bent on making this business of hers work. So I need to make sure this trip doesn’t cause a health setback.
And maybe, I also want to spend more time with her.
So I’ll say yes to the damn party at Mancini’s. It’s the last place I want to be. But for her, I’ll go.
