Page 5 of Best Kept Vows (Savannah’s Best #6)

Sebastian

A s we drove back to Savannah after finishing our meeting at the factory, I wondered why Jane had called me Seb.

Everyone knew I preferred to be called Sebastian and not Seb or Bastien or some other variation.

Only Lia called Seb—when we made love. I grimaced.

It had been months since I’d touched her.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to—I did, but I was always so tired that I just wanted to sleep.

Lia had tried; I had to give her that, but I’d given her the male version of I have a headache , and now she didn’t even try.

Jane prattled on about supply chain logistics while my head was with my family. The scene at the restaurant this afternoon had been brutal . I knew I had to do damage control, not just with Lia but with Ada and Tristan.

I hated being the bad guy, frustrated that they couldn’t see how hard I was working to save the family business. Sacrifices had to be made; that was how this worked. Lia understood, so why didn’t my kids?

The way Ada had looked at me still rattled me. There had been no trace of Daddy’s baby girl, who looked at me with adoration. Hell, no! And then called Jane my mistress ? What the fuck?

“Jane,” I interrupted her, not particularly paying attention to what she was saying. “You called me Seb at the restaurant.”

I glanced at her as I changed lanes to get ahead of a Toyota Corolla doing forty in a sixty-five zone. She frowned. “I did?”

“Yes.”

She shrugged. “Probably. I call you Seb all the time.”

No, she didn’t. But I also didn’t make a big deal out of it; I’d sound like an idiot.

“But I know you prefer Sebastian.” She chuckled. “Why is this a priority?”

Because I remember the hurt in my wife’s eyes, and it doesn’t sit well with me.

“It’s not. Just thought about it and wondered.”

I heard her release a long breath. “You’re still upset about what happened at the restaurant?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “Lia thought I’d come there for her, and…she was hurt.”

“Come on, Seb…astian.” Jane put a hand on mine, which was on the gearshift. “Not the first time you’ve missed so mething.”

I’m missing something else . Why the fuck is Jane touching me?

I quickly removed my hand from the gearshift. She noticed and pulled hers away, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face. Silence filled the car, heavy and fucking uncomfortable.

By the time we reached Jane’s place, the quiet was so loud that my eardrums hurt. I pulled up into her driveway and waited for her to get the hell out.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Have a good?—”

“Do you want to come inside for a drink?” She sounded like she’d just run a mile, which she hadn’t since she’d had her ass in my fucking car.

When I didn’t say anything, mostly because I was tongue-fucking-tied because I was just getting the memo that Jane Gipson, my Chief Operating Officer, was blatantly hitting on me, a married man.

“We can talk about the contract with Harley,” she blurted out.

Jesus!

“Thanks for the offer, Jane, but I need to get home to my wife.” I hoped she got the message because I did have a wife, and there wasn’t a universe in which I’d cheat on her. I’d rather be celibate for the rest of my life and fuck my right hand than sleep with a woman who wasn’t Lia.

Speaking of which, I needed to get home and make things right with her, and fuck her hard like I used to so we both could get on the same page .

I hated the feeling that a rift had formed between us.

Lia was not one for histrionics or drama—she was the model of equanimity, even with my mother and Coco, both of whom could drive a man, woman, and/or child to drink.

Case in point: Coco’s daughter Birdie, who was twenty-two and still lived with Coco and Bryce because they were worried about her.

And with good reason, as she’d been arrested six months ago at a nightclub in Savannah for possession of drugs.

Birdie did the mandatory twenty-eight-day rehab, and thanks to a judge who knew the family, she wouldn’t have a criminal record.

Considering that shitshow, the fact that Ada and Tristan never got into trouble and were freaking amazing, was all because of Lia—I knew that. I wasn’t at home much, raising the kids. She was. When I had my own business, I worked hard and traveled a lot. But I’d never worked as long as I was now.

“Are you sure, Seb?” Jane asked softly, her voice intimate.

I recognized the invitation clearly—I wasn’t na?ve. I’d been propositioned before, both before and after I got married. Before Lia, I’d accepted offers like Jane’s without hesitation. After her, absolutely not .

She looked at me with her blue eyes—so different from Lia’s deep brown ones.

Jane was blonde, tall, undeniably gorgeous.

But she did nothing for me. Not like Lia.

Why the hell had we stopped having sex? That was on me.

I’d been an ass. I should’ve made time for us —for Lia and me.

The lack of connection between us was what left me feeling adrift. Alone.

“It’s Sebastian , Jane,” I stated firmly. Enough was fucking enough . “And, yes, I’m sure. Goodnight. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Could I fire her? I couldn’t. I needed her.

She was damn good at her job, and right now, with the crises we were facing, I needed someone who was damn good at their job because I had too many people who weren’t.

My father, bless his heart, hired friends who made him feel good but did nothing for Boone Metals.

He hired family, like Bryce, who was worse than incompetent because he was dangerous in how he fucked up things by being an arrogant asshat.

Jane pressed her lips together but nodded, sliding out of the car without another word. I waited until she disappeared inside her house, gripping the steering wheel as frustration surged through me. Jane pulling this stunt was literally the last complication I needed.

As I drove home, the day all but made me want to pull over and sleep for a day or two in my car, sitting up.

The truth? I was afraid of going home because I had to deal with Lia and figure out how to fix things with Ada and Tristan. I was hoping that after Lia and I made up, though we hadn’t fought, she’d help with that.

I was drowning in problems, and I really needed my family not to be one of them. They needed to get with the program, understand the pressure I was under, and support me, not add to my burden .

When I parked alongside Lia’s car in the garage, I saw it was charging.

She hadn’t driven it today, I knew because Ada had picked her up and taken her to her graduation ceremony. I laid my forehead on the steering wheel. I should have moved the quarterly finance meeting and been with my family. Even Tristan showed up, albeit via FaceTime.

I just wish I had more time. More hours in the day. Less crap at work. The last three years, I felt like I was in a prison, and there was no parole, no furlough, no nothing—just the daily grind.

When was the last time I took a weekend off? I couldn’t remember.

I wearily got out of the car and went into the house. I noticed immediately that it was dark. That wasn’t how it usually was. A sense of dread twisted in my gut as I moved through the house, the silence unnerving.

I turned on the lights as I walked to our bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, and the hallway.

“Lia?” I called softly, stepping into our bedroom.

Empty . My heart thudded unevenly. I checked Ada’s old room and then Tristan’s. Empty .

Finally, I found her in the guest room, curled up and asleep. My gut clenched, anger replacing the earlier dread. Lia was sleeping in another room, deliberately avoiding me. It felt like an accusation, a punishment, and Goddamn , it infuriated me.

But deep down, beneath my anger, fear tightened its grip. How had we gotten here, and could I fix it?