Page 62 of Worth the Heat
“I’ll have to remember that for the next time I tease you in public,” I say cheerfully as I skip past him, but he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against his chest.
“You should know that I’m fine with the teasing, as long as I get to tease you right back.”
Game fucking on.
CCC
When Isabella Santo began hosting her romance book club, many Eternity Springs residents were thrilled at another opportunity for an extracurricular activity. Now well into its second year, there is an ample waiting list to attend, as over half the membership consists of Santo family members. Recently, I became aware of the name of the book club, and suffice it to say, I was gobsmacked.
The second and third C’s stand for Cookie and Club. I’ll let you, dear reader, guess on the first C. At every event, Isabella excitedly shares a baked good or sugary treat. They all have a theme, and they’re all shaped a certain way.
I immediately put my name on the waiting list.
Me: How does this damn website get information so fast?
Arianna: No clue. I’m beginning to think it’s someone extremely close to our family.
Hannah: It really has to be. Who else would know the personal details about all of our relationships?
Kate: What if it’s someone IN the family?
Me: No. Right? It couldn’t be. Some of the things the articles have insinuated were pretty nasty. I can’t imagine anyone in our family doing this.
Arianna: I don’t know. My spidey senses are tingling.
Hannah: If that’s happening, you aren’t using the vibrator right. Jeez, Ari. Get it together.
Much to Sebastian’s dismay,Camila had a rough evening, meaning his hope of sex right away was dashed. Maybe it’s a woman’s intuition thing, but I quietly told Sebastian I thought she might be coming down with something. I remember Arianna when she wasso sick as a child, and there was always a way her eyes would look when she came down with a virus. I suggested popping Camila in a bath, which he did. She requested cuddles while reading some books, and when I checked on them an hour later, they were both asleep in Camila’s twin-size bed. I quietly took out my phone for a picture, then covered them both up. Tiptoeing out of the room, I decide to take a relaxing bath myself. I haven’t yet used the rose bubble bath Sebastian got me, and it’s calling my name.
As soon as he learned I love baths, tons of products arrived. Epsom salts in every scent imaginable, and gallons of bubble bath. Battery operated candles for ‘mood lighting,’ he explained, as well as a Bluetooth speaker so I can play calming music without having to keep my phone next to me. Is there a love language for taking care of a partner? Because Sebastian thrives when he’s taking care of someone, and I’m all too thrilled it’s currently me. I’ve never had a man devote this much time and energy in a relationship. He’s learned my favorite kind of coffee, how I make it at home, and how I like my eggs. He knows I sing Taylor Swift when I’m happy, but switch to Sara Bareilles when I’m in a more subdued or depressed mood. I’ve learned that I shouldn’t interrupt him on the rare visit from one of his MC guys, and that he can’t stand eggs by themselves.
This relationship is new, but it also feels like I’ve been dating him for an incredibly long time. Maybe it’s because I’ve known him for years, and we’ve always been destined to be together. Whatever the reason, I know I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
I undress as the tub fills up, and the scent of roses overtakes the bathroom air. I slip beneath the bubbles and let out a sigh of contentment. Baking every day is hard on a body, and this bath was desperately needed. It’s only a few minutes later before Sebastian shuffles into the bathroom, sleepy-eyed and adorable with his hair sticking up in every direction.
“I guess I’m more tired than I thought,” he murmurs, then yawns. “I really want to join you, though.”
“Baths are relaxing, but I know if you join me, you will not be relaxing,” I tell him with a soft smile. His gaze rakes down my body, as if he can see through the bubbles, and the bulge in his plaid pajama pants grows.
“It would be worth it.” He yawns again.
“Go get into bed, Seb. I’ll be in later.”
He nods absentmindedly as he turns back toward the bedroom, before he looks over his shoulder. “I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I like you calling me Seb.”
I smile tenderly. “I know.”
“You’ve always called me Sebastian, and it used to irritate me. It was like your way of letting me know you wanted nothing to do with me. But then I liked it because you’re basically the only person who calls me by my full name all the time, so it became special to me.”
Just when I think I have this man figured out, he throws a curveball at me. “Do you want me to stop calling you Seb? Since everyone else calls you that?”
He thinks for a moment, his eyes losing focus as he stares beyond me. “No, I like it too. But don’t stop calling me Sebastian. I’d be okay if you call me baby, too. No one has ever called me that. OrPapi.”
“Your mom calls you baby in Spanish,” I remind him.
“That’s different. I am literally her baby. Besides, it’s you, so it’s very different.”
“How so?”
