“Mrs. Worthington, I amsosorry I’mlate.” I rushed to explain, as I ran into the house with Sebastian on my heels,carrying the new chinchilla cage.
“Oh,Tabitha, where else would I be?” The old woman waved a dismissive hand, hersmile never fading. As her sparkling blue eyes lifted to the blonde hulk behindme, she beamed. “Is that Sandy’s new abode? Oh, thank you so much for pickingit up!”
“Ofcourse! I’m always happy to help, you know that,” I reminded her, ensuring myloyalty to the job, and to my friend.
“Willyou introduce me to your … companion?” she asked. I had wondered when shewould.
Witha strengthening breath, I turned to flash hardened eyes at Sebastian, hopinghe’d get the memo to behave himself. The sun did nothing to save us from theheat and after hoisting the cage into the trunk of his car, he had stripped theleather jacket off, showcasing the tattoos muraled over his arms. It wasdifficult not to be distracted by them—tattoos were always a weakness ofmine—but I forced myself to keep my gaze upward as I touched a light hand tohis arm.
“Thisis my friend Sebastian.” The wordfriendfelt wrong on my tongue. It wasa lie, but was the truth any better? “He came along to help with the new cage.”
“Oh,how nice. Thank you so much, Sebastian. Idolove that name, you know,”Mrs. Worthington replied, folding her hands against her middle. “Mr.Worthington always wanted a son named Sebastian.”
“Mr.Worthington has good taste,” Sebastian’s voice rumbled luxuriously from behindme, and I suppressed a groan.
“Hedid,” Mrs. Worthington nodded with a rueful little smile twitching at her lips.“Can I get either of you something to drink?”
Iopened my mouth to speak. “N—”
“Water,please, young lady,” Sebastian spoke up. “It’s as hot as Satan’s scrotum outthere.”
Atthe crude comment and his sickeningly charming arrogance, my lips pulledbetween my teeth, and I bit down with embarrassment, disgust, and anger. On theride over, I had warned him to behave and keep his mouth shut. I didn’t knowthe man very well, but I already knew him well enough to know he was incapableof following simple directions.
Butthen, Mrs. Worthington erupted with a bubbly chuckle, a sound I wasn’t sure I’dever heard from her in all the time I’d known her. My anger washed away as hercheeks tinted rose and knotted fingers pressed to her lips.
“Youremind me of my Thomas,” she sighed wistfully. “I’ll be right back.”
Iwatched her turn and move toward the kitchen, giggling all the way. Sebastianstepped around me into the entryway and placed the box onto the wooden floor.When he stood, he took a moment, sweeping his eyes around the wood-paneledwalls, the crown molding, and inlaid floors.
“Hotdamn,” he uttered breathlessly. “This place is a fucking masterpiece.”
Hisappreciation for the craftsmanship was evident in the way his hand gingerlylaid over the staircase’s newel post, tracing his fingertips over the carvedswirls and twirls.
“Yeah,it is,” I agreed solemnly. “Too bad nobody wants it.”
“Anybodywho can afford this house and doesn’t buy it, is an idiot,” he stated bluntly.
Hisdark blonde brows drew together and his eyes narrowed, peering up the openstairway and into the hallway above. Nodding slowly, he turned to me with anexpression I hadn’t yet seen.
“Didthe old guy die here?”
“Wow,you picked up on that.” I blinked away the evidence of my shock as I cleared mythroat. “Yeah, he did. Last year. Mrs. Worthington’s niece wants her to move inwith her family in Pittsburgh, but she needs to sell the house first. Apparentlyshe believes that her late-husband is scaring potential buyers away.”
Sebastian’smouth stretched with a slow grin. “A haunted house, huh? That’s fuckingbadass.”
“It’snot haunted,” I mumbled, shaking my head.
“Thenwhat do you call it?” He tipped his head with intrigue. I rolled my eyes, butmy lips remained sealed. “Yeah, just like I thought; you got nothin’.”
“I’mjust not convinced that the spirit of her dead husband is to blame for the lackof offers,” I whispered harshly.
Witha suspicious glance around the room, Sebastian bent to lower his eyes to mine.“Don’t say that so loud. You don’t wanna piss the old dude off,” he warned in ahusky voice that shouldn’t have sprouted goosebumps along the back of my neck,but it did.
“Oh,shut up.” I shoved against his chest, startled immediately by the ungiving,firm muscle under my palm.
Aheated shiver trickled over my spine and I urged myself to calm the hell down.Tensing the muscles of my face into an expression of indifference, I pointed tothe cage and then toward the back of the room.
“Sandyis right through that door, if you don’t mind taking that in there,” Iinstructed just as Mrs. Worthington returned with a tall glass of water, frostedwith condensation.
