Sebastian held open a copy of 1776, but his eyes remained on me. “Why’d you break up?”
My weaknesses. I’d boiled it down to that through therapy, and Sebastian would eventually make the connection too. For now, it was too embarrassing to admit.
Sensing my hesitation, he added, “I’ll tell you why I broke up with my last girlfriend.”
My first reaction was to make a joke, but as soon as the temptation passed, curiosity took its place. “I’m not sure that’s a fair trade. Your last girlfriend was probably in and out in a week.”
“Believe me, it’s a fair trade.”
It was something I never would’ve shared with Sebastian before today. Maybe even before this moment, so I gave him the easy answer. “He left me for someone else.”
His eyebrows cinched as if I’d responded in Greek. “Did he cheat?”
“Not according to him.” I hoped I could blame my reddening cheeks on the sunny day. “She was his study partner. He fell for her ‘spirit.’ I think that just means she knew how to say no to him.”
Sebastian caught Opal gnawing on a bottom shelf book spine and tugged her away. “He might like that now, but he won’t forever.”
It gave me some comfort to have Sebastian side with me for once. “He didn’t. They weren’t even together two months. What was your reason for breaking up with . . . ?”
“Wendy,” he said as we continued walking. “My mom didn’t like her.”
I refrained from laughing. After the battle of the sexes we’d been through, I wouldn’t have pegged him as a mama’s boy. While it was noble, I wondered why her approval meant that much to him. “That was the only reason?”
“Nah, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“I had a feeling,” I said.
“I have a feeling there’s more to your story too.”
Tit for tat. I wouldn’t get an explanation if I didn’t give one. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about confessing how weak I’d been—all the reasons Neal hadn’t seemed to think I had spirit.
Ahead of us, a crowd cheered. Docked between piers, a boat with a yellow-and-white striped awning was full of people our age in coats and sunglasses, all holding cocktails. Some gathered at the bow, looking over the side, and others crowded around the bar in the center. “It’s a boat that’s a bar,” I said.
“Up for a drink?”
We headed for a grassy hill under a tree. “There’s no way they’ll allow dogs.”
“Then we’ll tie them up for a few minutes.”
I smiled. “Over my dead body. Bruno has separation anxiety.”
“Bruno? Or you?” Sebastian squatted to tie Opal’s leash around a trunk. “It’ll be good for Bruno,” he said. “It’s like that thing new moms do where they let the baby cry in their crib to toughen them up.”
“It’s nothing like that,” I said, “and that’s cruel.”
“My sister said the same thing until she had a newborn. Now she swears by it.”
“You guys are twins, right?”
“Yep.” Sebastian knotted the leash and stood. “So, what do you say?”
“I’m pretty sure the shelter would have your head if you left Opal unaccompanied,” I said.
“She’s not, though. She’s with Bruno.” He grinned. “Fine. How about if I bring the bar to you? What’s the maritime equivalent to a lemon drop?”
“I . . .” I cleared my throat. “I have a confession to make.”
He arched a dark brow. “You’re not really a baseball fan.”
“No—”
“You do shower with other women.”
I swatted his arm, and Opal whined. “No.”
“Hmm.” Sebastian pinched his chin, dropping only his eyes to me. “You hate lemon drops?”
“How’d you know?” I exclaimed.
“Call it an inkling. Why’d you order one at happy hour then?”
“The truth?” I nudged the toe of my boot into the grass. “Everyone was looking at me, and I blanked.”
“Who would’ve ever suspected George Keller might be susceptible to stage fright?” He laughed. “So what’s your poison?”
“Guinness,” I said, “but I don’t suppose they’ve got that on the boat.”
He looked impressed as he got out his wallet. “Nice poison. Is it the Irish in you?”
I nodded, going for my purse. “My dad’s side of the family.”
“How about your mom?”
“Italian. It can get heated in our house when both families visit for the holidays.”
“Sounds nice.” He smiled to himself as if lost in a memory. “I take it your parents are still together.”
“Twenty-seven years next spring.”
He closed one eye, pretending to count. “Either you’re younger than I thought, or . . .”
“They had me out of wedlock. Both sides of the family are Catholic, so their outrage united them against my parents.” I grinned. “It made everyone closer, so it worked out pretty well. Are your parents still married?”
“Never were in the first place,” he said, eyeing my wallet. “Put your money away.”
“I want to get the drinks,” I said, unzipping it. “You already picked up two of my coffees.”
“Don’t bother.” He covered my hand with his to stop me, and the suddenness of it made me freeze. I hoped he didn’t notice the way the hairs on my arm rose from his touch. “I took petty cash from the office since the date is research,” he said, taking his hand back to tug at his collar. “So, whatever I spend now comes out of your share of dinner.”
I couldn’t help a small laugh. “Won’t it be awkward for you to eat while your hungry date watches?”
“Good point.” He smirked. “Nothing worse than feeling awkward on the first date.”
“I think you’re lying about the petty cash.” At happy hour, Justin had claimed Sebastian had a tell. Thanks to the tip, I’d been watching closely and had figured out that when Sebastian wasn’t being forthcoming, he usually touched his neck or the knot of his tie. I held up a twenty. “So let me get this round.”
“Naw. I’ll cover it. I wouldn’t look good in the write-up otherwise.”
I rolled my eyes as he walked away. Of course, this was meant to be all about the magazine, even if it was starting to feel like more . . .
I stopped the thought in its tracks. Wondering if this could be something other than make-believe was just asking for trouble. And danger. And disappointment.
I refocused on the piece we were working on. No doubt Sebastian would make himself look like an angel. Should I have been taking notes? Using a rating system? Would he need pull-quotes for the piece? As I watched him walk away, I thought, Four out of five doctors recommend that ass.
Sebastian stopped to talk to the boat’s very pretty hostess.
And the one doctor thinks he is an ass.
I pretended not to watch Sebastian lay on the charm as I unfurled a linen throw onto a park bench and sat.
Opal sniffed the base of a tree trunk, then squatted and peed.
“Don’t worry,” I said, as Bruno lay at my feet. “I wouldn’t leave either of you alone for a cocktail.”
Bruno didn’t seem to care. He kept his eyes glued to Opal as she explored the immediate area, then finally settled a few feet from him.
Had Sebastian actually planned anything beyond a walk outdoors? What more could we do with dogs in tow?
If he really was keeping me out until dinner, then we still had plenty of time together—and topics to cover. I realized then how effectively he’d cut off our conversations once they turned to his family. Either he wasn’t ready or wasn’t willing to share that part of himself with me. If only he knew that the mystery around them made me even more curious about how he’d grown up. Because the more I uncovered about Sebastian Quinn, the less I believed what I’d read about him.
And the more I wanted the truth.