There was no doubt in her mind and heart that she loved him.
Loved him so much that somehow, some way, she'd figure out how to endure his glittering celebrity world.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Charlie's scent filled the truck. Sebastian would never get enough of her. "I'm glad you could carve out some time away from your work to help out today."
Glad was the world's biggest understatement as they pulled into a San Jose neighborhood at seven o'clock on Wednesday morning. The community had planned the group home for teens transitioning out of the foster care system to provide a clean, safe, temporary environment while they looked for jobs and permanent housing. Unfortunately, the bond measure to raise the building funds hadn't passed, so Daniel had stepped in. Anyone working at his Bay Area stores was encouraged to lend a hand, and he'd volunteered the Mavericks too. He'd even flown Susan and Bob out from Chicago because they wanted to be involved. Their flight had been delayed, getting in extremely late last night, so they would arrive a little later.
Sebastian had looked forward to working on the community project. But it was all a million times better knowing that he could look up to fi
nd Charlie smiling across the room, that she was just a step away, a touch away.
It meant everything to him that she kept giving him the chance to get things right. Every stumble with her killed him--yet he'd done it again when he'd sounded as if he was questioning her judgment about her mother's new nursing home. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew Charlie needed him to believe in more than just her art. She needed him to trust both her choices and her financial independence. He didn't want to take over. He simply wanted the best for Francine. But wasn't he the one who preached to thousands of people that while it was important to support someone, it was equally important to know when to let them be free and be true to themselves? Which meant he had to stop circumventing her decisions when it came to her mother.
If he didn't want to lose Charlie, he had to let her be free to be herself.
And he wanted Charlie's love more than anything in his entire life. So he'd worked extra hard the past couple of weeks to let her do things her way and hadn't stepped in to fix everything for her the way he so badly wanted to.
"I'm excited about helping out." She squeezed his hand as he parked outside the big white shell of a house. The street was packed with work trucks and panel vans. "Even better," she added with a quirk of her lips, "working here today means we won't have time for another big party tonight." She climbed out, smiling as she closed the truck door.
She may have been teasing him, but he also heard the thread of truth in it. Since the benefit at the Opera House, they'd been to four galas in three evenings. Things with her career were progressing beyond his expectations--so well, in fact, that he'd started to worry Charlie was pushing herself too hard. He'd told her people would wait, but it was as if she feared the projects would dry up if she didn't complete them as quickly as possible.
But Charlie was as independent a spirit as he'd ever come across, and he'd sworn not to get in her way, letting her make her own choices. He would not screw up with her again.
Still, it was getting harder to keep his mouth shut, especially this morning, when he'd noticed the dark shadows beneath her eyes after they'd made love. Fear had hit him like a knife to the rib cage, fear that she was sick, that she was hurting, that she was burning herself out. He couldn't stand the thought of anything or anyone hurting Charlie. It was why he'd been hustling up so much business for her--if she wouldn't take his money, he had to do something to ease her financial concerns. But was he going about things the wrong way?
Could he be the one hurting her?
The thought that he might be toxic to Charlie had hit him harder than the mere slice of a knife. He felt completely gutted by the possibility.
For the past hour, he'd mulled over ways to broach his concerns without freaking her out--hell, he knew he had issues, and odds were his fears were nothing more than shadows popping up in the dark--but for a guy who talked for a living, it was pathetic to realize he had no clue how to phrase his thoughts. Just as his sketches were never quite right, now he couldn't find the perfect words to make sure his behavior didn't destroy the person he'd come to love most in the world.
"Sebastian?" Her hand on his arm, she'd moved closer, her expression clearly concerned. "Are you upset with me for saying I prefer this to the big parties?"
"No." He stroked her cheek. "Of course not." He was upset with himself for not paying attention to that fact. Every party they attended should have been balanced by a junkyard visit where she could discover magical pieces to perfect her sculptures. He would try to do that in the future, but it was so hard for Charlie to give up her workshop time during the day. Except for this day. He made himself smile as he added, "I like getting my hands dirty too."
She stared at him a moment longer, as though she thought something lurked beneath the surface of what he'd actually said. Finally she smiled back. "I understand Daniel knowing his way around a tool belt. But you, with your fancy suits--" He was beyond relieved to see the teasing glint in her eyes again. "Do you actually know how to do all this stuff?"
"When we were growing up, everyone had to pitch in at the Spencer household when something needed fixing. Daniel's not the only one who can build a cabin from scratch."
"That," she said as she pressed closer, lifting her mouth to his, "just might be the sexiest thing you've ever said to me. Say it again."
Her lips were only a breath away. "One day, I'll build you a cabin from the ground up with my own two hands."
"So hot." Her tongue licked out against his lips before she gave him a sizzling kiss right there on the sidewalk.
Her taste thoroughly fried his brain. He almost couldn't remember where he'd put his tool belt.
"It's in the back," she drawled, knowing exactly what she'd done to him.
He smacked one last kiss on her beautiful mouth, then grabbed his tool belt from the bed of the truck and called out to a couple of guys in the garage, who were checking off boxed materials on clipboards, "You know where Daniel is?"
An older man, his shirt sporting the Top-Notch DIY logo, hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Inside."
With Charlie's hand in his, they climbed the wooden crates that had been set up as temporary porch steps. Voices carried from the kitchen and they followed the noise into a room crowded with Mavericks, the contractors Daniel had brought in, and a group of teenage volunteers.
"Glad you could make it." Daniel high-fived Sebastian, then leaned down to give Charlie a hug. When surprise flickered on her face, Sebastian realized she still hadn't accepted the fact that she was now a Maverick.