Andy paled. Sebastian eased off the wall and touched his earpiece.
“Get me a visual.”
A few seconds later, his phone chimed and he swiped his finger across the screen. His gaze flickered over the video feed, taking in the plain clapboard house and the little boy chasing a Labrador puppy. A slender blonde watched over the pair as she hung sheets outside on a line to dry. Tilting his head, he swung the phone around so Andy could see. He watched as the blood drained from the man’s face flushing it a ghastly white. Horror and pleading surged in the man’s eyes before dimming beneath a wave of resignation. Sebastian had seen it enough times to know it was the look of defeat. He smirked.
Perhaps the man understood the value of family after all.
Taylor grinned upon hearing the quiet whir of the garage door. Filled with renewed energy, she turned down the heat under the potatoes and double-checked to make sure she’d put everything away. The smell of seasoned pork wafted from the crockpot and a tangy apple crisp cooled on the counter beside it. All was good. Her heartbeat quickened with joyful excitement. It had been a long day without Sebastian’s company, and the security restrictions had made it feel even longer. She’d finished an entire book before noon, and then spent the rest of the day getting dinner started and cleaning the house. Everything from the stainless steel appliances to the hardwood floors sparkled with a glossy sheen.
She froze as Sebastian stepped into the hall. He hadn’t changed out of his work clothes. Her gaze darted to the tarnished silver skull and cross bone pin adorning his banded collar before roaming over the jet-black garments and military style boots. She hated that uniform and loved it all in the same breath. He looked so sleek and handsome, but the clothes only seemed to amplify the air of confidence and authority he carried. They turned his usually imposing presence into something menacing and lethal—something that made her heart stop and the air falter in her lungs. She swallowed and tamped down a shiver. His eyes were so cold.
He studied her, his head tilted slightly to the side, his expression unreadable. Taylor squirmed and took an involuntary step back toward the counter. “How was work?”
“Good,” Sebastian said quietly. He regarded her for a moment, his piercing stare pinning her in place. “Is something wrong, Taylor?”
“No,” she stammered the response, hating how it sounded far more like a question than an answer.
He nodded. “How long before dinner?”
“I just have to mash the potatoes. If you want, I can have them ready and on the table by the time you take a shower.” She winced at his frown.
“I called you so that you could have everything done by the time I got here.” He traced an idle pattern across the top of the granite island with his fingertip.
“I started boiling them as soon as you called. If you want to eat now, I’ll finish up. The table is set and everything else is ready to go.”
Taylor’s heart hammered as Sebastian glanced at the counter, assessing the crockpot and then the stove, before turning his attention to her. She didn’t miss the slight tensing of his jaw. Her stomach churned. She wanted to beg him to take a shower and change. Most of the time, that helped wash the day—and these moods away. She tried to swallow past the lump of fear in her throat.
“No vegetable tonight?” he asked, straightening.
She sank her teeth into her lower lip, wondering when, if, the interrogation was ever going to end. If he kept at it, she was going to slip up somewhere along the way. She could feel it, and it was only making her more nervous. Wringing her hands, she tried to still their tremble.
“There’s a green bean casserole warming in the oven.”
Sebastian nodded, but didn’t move. Uncertainty warred with panic until she couldn’t take it anymore. Her eyes swung up to his despite the cold glint still fueling them.
“Seb, please,” she whispered.
“Please what, Taylor?”
“Please tell me what to do. What can I do to make it…you better?”
He stared at her for a long minute. His mouth tightened with displeasure or hesitation. She couldn’t tell. Her breath came quicker and she started to feel dizzy. The quiet rasp of his voice was almost shattering.
“You could’ve started by greeting me like you meant it instead of shrinking away.” She took a step forward, but he halted her with a slow shake of his head. “No, Taylor. Not now. You have ten minutes. I expect to eat when I come down. Is that clear?”
Blowing out a shaky breath, she nodded. It was going to be a long night. “Yes, Sebastian.”
There was no nod of acceptance, no whispers of “good girl,” or anything else to ease the tension. Just a hard look on his way past as he turned and headed for the stairs.
Taylor got the last of the food to the table with seconds to spare. Setting down the serving platter of steaming pork roast, she glanced up as Sebastian strolled into the dining room. Her heart ached at the sight of him. Water had dampened his sandy curls to a dark, glistening auburn, and he looked soft enough to cuddle in a warm cotton shirt and khakis. The subtle hint of aftershave and cologne rolled off him as he circled the table to take his seat. Trying to calm her jittery nerves, she dished the food onto their plates while he poured himself a glass of Chardonnay. Their eyes met and she offered a tentative smile.
“Did you have a nice shower?”
He nodded. “I did. Dinner smells good.”
Feeling some of the dread lift, she clung to the fragile thread of hope the compliment offered. “You smell good,” she countered with a wink.
“Are we resorting to flattery now?” Sebastian lifted a tawny brow in question.
“That depends. Is it working?” Biting her lip, she made no effort to mask her hopeful expression or the pleading in her eyes.
One
corner of his mouth lifted with a reluctant smirk. “That remains to be seen.”
“I’ll try harder.”
He snorted beneath his breath. “Eat, Taylor.”
She kept the wine and food flowing at a steady pace. He rarely went back for more, but tonight he was working on his second plate. She frowned, wondering if he’d had the time to take a lunch. It bothered her to think of him going hungry. No wonder he’d been so touchy. Twirling a piece of meat around her fork, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. They needed to talk. As much as she hated to bother him, the way things were going tonight, it was pretty much now or never.
“Sebastian…I need to go to the doctor.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Worry branded his face as he dropped his fork and started to reach for her hand.
“I’m late getting my shot.”
His brow furrowed. Jerking back as if struck, he pinned her with a bewildered stare.
“It’s no big deal,” she soothed. “It’s only been a week, but I should probably get things taken care of, just to be safe. I wouldn’t even bring it up, but you don’t want me going anywhere without you until you catch this guy.”
Shoulders stiffening, he averted his attention back to his plate. “Yeah...no…it’s fine. Where do you need to go?”
“I usually just hit the clinic. It’s fast and cheap.”
“I’m not taking you to that place. It’s a cesspool. Call my sister tomorrow and find out where she goes. Make an appointment there. I’ll take you.”