Page 19 of Changing Tides

“No, don’t. I’ll get it. I don’t want you to cut yourself,” he says as he shoos me away from the mess.

“I’ll get a trash bag,” I say as the other man approaches.

I turn and run back to the steps leading into the house. Mortified.

Once I’m in the safety of the kitchen, I lean my hands against the cool granite of the island and take a few calming breaths.

Sebastian.

It couldn’t be. My imagination just got away from me. There’s no way the man I spent an incredible night with in Hawaii all those years ago is standing in the garden of my rental in North Carolina.

He has the same hair. That’s all.

I scold myself for being so silly and grab two more glasses. This time, strong mason jars, and I fill them with lemonade. I plate a few more cookies and tuck a trash bag into the pocket of my shorts before heading back out to the scene of the accident.

Sebby is still picking shards from the blades of grass and tossing them into an empty cardboard box, held by his grandson.

“Whoa, let me take those,” a deep voice says as he sets the box down on the ground and makes his way to me.

“Thank you,” I say as he grabs the jars.

I look up and smile, and then I go still. His bright blue eyes dance with amusement, but not recognition. The same blue eyes that I’ve seen in my dreams a hundred times. There’s no doubt that the man standing before me is Sebastian.

My hot, unforgettable vacation fling.

“My pleasure,” he utters.

I swallow hard as I stare up at him.

He grins from ear to ear.

“Are those for us too?” he asks, gesturing to the plate of cookies.

“Oh, yes. I baked a batch for my little girl and thought you guys might enjoy them,” I babble.

“Who doesn’t like a homemade cookie?” he says as he tucks one of the mason jars under his arm and takes the plate.

He carries it all over to the small green metal table in the garden and sets it down.

Sebby finishes his cleanup efforts, and I take the cardboard box and drop it inside the outdoor waste can on the side of the house.

I spend the rest of the afternoon peering out of the window, watching the two of them work in the garden, like some stalker. My eyes still not believing what they are seeing.

Sebastian is Sabel and Sebby’s grandson.

What are the fucking odds?

Sebastian

“So, that’s the girl you and Nana rented to for the summer?” I ask as I watch her disappear into the cottage.

“Longer,” Gramps answers as he takes a seat across from me at the table.

He grabs a cookie and pops it into his mouth and washes it down with a gulp of lemonade.

“What about her husband? Will he be joining them soon?” I ask as I casually sip from the jar.

Gramps’s eyes cut to me. “Nope.”

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