Page 26 of Christmas in Paradise

A hundred questions follow those.

The only one I don’t entertain for more than a few seconds is what if Seb hates me for what I did?

That one leaves me too worried to dwell on.

Chapter 7

Sebastian

The sky is already a dark blue sprinkled with the first visible stars when I pull into my driveway. I know this is the day Hope is supposed to arrive, but I’m still surprised when I see a familiar Honda with Kansas plates parked along the grassy curb in front of the house. Coming back to Paradise is one thing. Showing up at my house is another.

The fact she did might be a good sign. The hatchback is still stuffed with blankets and pillows, like she didn’t take time to unload before she came over. Maybe she couldn’t wait to see me.

Then I see the car seat and know that’s not why she’s here.

Mom starts taking care of Charly Monday.

So even though I’m not prepared to see Hope again,I grab my tool bag and walk to the side door—just like it’s any other day. I’m determined to act like I haven’t been counting down the days until she comes back or fighting the feelings I still have for her. Pretending I’m not still wrecked that she kept Charly from me or that I made her feel the way I did about being a single mom.

I drop my bag and coat, then call “Hey, Mamma! I’m home.” A little louder than usual because I don’t want to surprise Hope.

“Sebastian,” she calls back before opening the door into the mudroom. “Hope is here. Come meet Charly.”

As soon as Mom walks past me into the mudroom, I have a clear view of Hope and Stella, sitting at the kitchen table. And she has a clear view of me.

A slow smile creeps across her lips, then suddenly disappears. It’s replaced with a crease between her brows, and I follow her gaze to where Mom is hanging up my coat and putting away the boots I’ve slipped off. There’s confusion on her face when she looks back at me, but I’m not sure why.

I follow Mom into the kitchen where the smells of chicken parm—my favorite—fill the air.

“Stop spoiling him, Mom,” Stella says. She adds, “Put your own stuff away,” as I pass her.

I scowl at her, but my cheeks grow warm. I think I’ve cleared up what Hope’s confusion was about. Maybe her mom doesn’t wait on her the way Mom does me. It’s a bad habit I’ve slipped easily back into since moving home.

“Hi,” I say to Hope.

She lifts her hand in a wave, looking embarrassed, and I wonder if she’s thinking, like I am, about how she left.

“I’m feeding Hope and Charly. They’ve had nothing but junk food for two days,” Mom says and motions for me to sit.

I slide into a chair, planting myself between Hope and the little girl in the other chair. I may not be dad material, but I can at least meet the kid. I turn to introduce myself to her, but Mom stops me short.

“What are you doing there?” Mom says. “I’m sitting next to Charly. I have to help her eat.”

“Oh! Sorry!” I jump up and move to the seat next to Stella and across from Hope.

Which puts me at a safer distance from her, but also gives me a direct view of her blue eyes and soft waves falling over her shoulders. And already, all I want is to hold her in my arms again.

“I apologize for my son,” Mom says, shaking her head but smiling. “He doesn’t know anything about children.”

“That’s because he’s still a child himself,” Stella says, returning my glare.

“So, this is Charly?” I say to Hope and turn my back to Stella, like that might shut my sister up.

“This is Charly.” Hope turns her gaze away from me toward Charly, but not before her cheeks turn pink.

“Hi Charly.” I wave to the little girl but get a frown in return. She hates me already.

She turns to Hope, and in a little voice says something I can’t understand.

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