Page 13 of His

He takes a long, deep sip.

Suddenly, the lights flicker on and off, and Josh claps his hands, startling me.

“Alright everyone! Listen up! We’re closing early tonight. Everyone out.” He gestures to the crowd like cattle. “Come on, right now. Get up, get out. Your tabs have been covered, just get the hell out.”

Frowning, I begin to stand. Josh looks at me, winks. “Not you.”

It takes under ten seconds to clear the room once the promise of paid tabs has been made. Josh locks the door, turns off the “Open” sign, and returns to the bar.

“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Stone.”

Mr. Stone?

“No thanks, Josh. How’s Katie?”

With a spark of father’s pride, Josh smiles. “She’s doing good. Thank you.” He swallows deeply and I squint at the hint of tears in the tattooed barman’s eyes.

What is going on?

“Thank you, again, for everything.” Josh clears this throat. “Okay. I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll be in the office, if you need anything. Help yourself to whatever you want behind the bar and don’t hesitate to come get me.” He lingers on Astor, then raps his knuckles on the bar, and disappears.

I look at Astor, the strong lines of his gorgeous face, the fire and determination in his expression.

“You paid him to watch me, didn’t you?” I ask in barely a whisper because I’m still struggling to find my voice.

“I paid him to look after you as you wouldn't allow me to. I did what I had to do.”

“No. You did what you wanted to do. I can take care of myself, Astor.”

He leans in, his dark eyes twinkling under the dim bar lights. “I know you can, Sabine. And you’re stronger than I am because I can’t seem to take care of a single thing in my life without you being in it.”

Nine

Astor

I’m trying to be calm and collected, but inside I’m dancing.

This is joy.

Sabine. Is. Joy.

Just being in close proximity to this woman is like taking a shot of the most addictive drug. She’s intoxicating. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, with no makeup, a head of messy, curly hair, and shorts that make me want to bend her over the barstool. She looks magnificent.

She looks like mine.

Mine.

The fact that Sabine hasn’t slapped me across the face or ordered me to leave is a good start. She’s trying to hide her emotions, but I can read my baby like a book. Sabine is equally flustered and curious, but trying to be mad.

She takes a deep breath, still processing my impromptu arrival.

I’m still processing, too. What happened between Valerie and me in the bathroom was one of my darkest moments, but with it came a clarity like nothing else. I am taking care of the wrong person. I never want to touch that woman again. Regardless of my obligations to Valerie, which I know I somehow need to uphold, I am spending my time with the wrong woman. At that moment, I decided that I would not live another day without Sabine in my life. The next afternoon I was in my jet, on my way to Louisiana, on a Friday.

“Astor,” Sabine says on a deep inhale. “There are one million things I could say right now. One million questions that I have. But I am . . .” she shakes her head. “I am overwhelmed and?—”

“May I touch you?”

“Yes.”

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