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CHAPTER 13

T he warmth of The Red Lion’s main room felt almost shocking after the cellar’s bone-deep chill. Sebastian sat at a corner table, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea that Oliver had insisted on making. His body had warmed quickly enough once they’d escaped their underground prison, but something else—some lingering vulnerability from those moments in the darkness with Tessa—remained exposed and utterly unfamiliar.

He’d revealed more in that hidden chamber than he had to anyone in his entire adult life. Worse, he’d completely lost control—his carefully maintained professional composure crumbling under the combined weight of claustrophobia and unexpected emotional intimacy. The sort of weakness that would have horrified his father.

Yet Tessa hadn’t judged him. She’d simply taken his hand and breathed with him until the terror subsided, as if comforting frightened executives was perfectly normal.

“You should go home and get some proper rest,” Tessa said, approaching his table and pulling her cardigan tighter around herself—a habit she’d developed since Will had started making the pub feel like the Arctic whenever he got excited about their research. “It’s been quite an afternoon.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Sebastian assured her, though ‘fine’ hardly captured the complex emotions churning beneath his calm exterior. “Actually, I keep thinking about Will’s letter. About what he wrote to Rebecca.”

Tessa slid into the chair opposite him, close enough that he could catch that faint scent of lavender. “Which part?”

“All of it, really. But especially—“ Sebastian paused, remembering the desperate longing in Will’s words. “‘When next we meet, I’ll ask you properly, with a proper ring if I can manage to save enough.’ He was planning to propose.”

“And he never got the chance,” Tessa said softly.

The pub’s old radiator gave a sudden, loud clank, making them both glance toward it. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, though whether from the October night or something else entirely, Sebastian couldn’t say.

“I think Will approves of our detective work,” he said with dry humor. “Though I have to say, having a ghost invested in my love life wasn’t something I expected when I started this job.”

Tessa smiled. “Your love life?”

Heat crept up Sebastian’s neck. “Poor choice of words.”

“Was it, though?”

The question hung between them, charged with possibility. Sebastian found himself studying her face in the warm pub lighting—the way her dark hair caught hints of fire from the brass fixtures, the gold flecks in her eyes that he’d noticed during their trapped hours below.

“You know what’s strange?” he said, deflecting. “Six months ago, I would have seen Will’s story as nothing more than a minor historical curiosity. Something to catalog and file away.”

“And now?”

“Now I can’t stop thinking about how he never got to tell Rebecca how he really felt. Not properly, face to face.” Sebastian’s voice grew quieter. “The ultimate unfinished business.”

The lights flickered once, briefly, as if in agreement.

“That’s exactly why he’s still here,” Tessa said, glancing around. “Will? Is that you weighing in on the conversation?”

Another flicker, and Sebastian found himself shaking his head with rueful amusement. “I’m taking relationship advice from a ghost. My board would definitely stage an intervention.”

Before Tessa could respond, voices drifted in from the entrance where Oliver was saying goodbye to Alice.

“You should have told me about wanting to move sooner,” Oliver was saying. “We could have started looking at country properties months ago.”

“I didn’t want to uproot your carefully planned life,” Alice replied gently.

“Nothing matters more than what you need,” Oliver told her with fierce certainty. “Your happiness isn’t separate from mine—it’s the foundation of everything else.”

Sebastian watched this exchange with an unfamiliar ache in his chest. Oliver—his longtime rival—was prepared to completely restructure his existence simply because the woman he loved wanted something different.

“They seem genuinely happy together,” Tessa murmured.

“They do,” Sebastian agreed, surprised by the wistful note in his own voice.

After Oliver and Alice left, The Red Lion fell into comfortable quiet. Sebastian knew he should leave—return to his sterile penthouse, tackle his accumulating emails. But instead, he found himself lingering, his eyes drawn to Tessa as she moved around the ancient room.

“Will never got the chance to tell Rebecca how he really felt,” Sebastian said, breaking the silence. “The letter never reached her, so she never knew what he was offering.”

Tessa paused in her glass-polishing. “Is that what you think about? Missed opportunities?”

The directness of her question caught him off guard. “More lately than I used to.”

“What changed?”

Sebastian stood and crossed to where she remained behind the bar, his afternoon in the cellar having fundamentally altered something between them. All the careful professional roles had been stripped away in that hidden chamber.

“You did,” he said simply. “This place. Will’s story. All of it.”

The admission hung in the warm air between them. Sebastian found himself reaching out slowly, letting his fingers drift lightly over her hand where it rested on the polished bar. The touch was brief, but it carried the same electric weight as their hours in the darkness below.

“Sebastian,” Tessa began, her voice uncertain.

“I know this complicates everything,” he said quietly. “I know I’m supposed to be acquiring this building, not...” He gestured helplessly between them.

“Not what?”

“Not falling for its owner.”

The words were out before he could stop them, hanging in the space between confession and catastrophe. Tessa’s eyes widened, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

“That’s decidedly unprofessional of you, Mr. Westfield,” she said, though there was something soft in her voice.

“Completely inappropriate,” he agreed, stepping closer. “Probably a terrible strategic decision.”

“Probably,” she echoed, but she was smiling now.

The moment stretched between them, full of possibility and terrifying in its potential. Sebastian was acutely aware that he was standing at a crossroads—he could step back, retreat to safe professional ground, pretend this afternoon had never happened.

Or he could choose something else entirely.

“I should probably go,” he said, though every instinct told him to stay.

“You probably should,” Tessa agreed, but she didn’t move away.

The pub’s old clock ticked steadily in the background, marking moments that felt precious and weighted with change. Sebastian lifted his hand to her cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along her jaw.

“I meant everything I said earlier,” he told her, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. “About being unforgivably tempted by you.”

“I know,” she said softly.

They leaned toward each other, the space between them shrinking to nothing?—

The pub’s front door banged open, sending a gust of cold October air swirling through the room.

“Sorry!” Harry’s voice boomed across the space. “Forgot my bloody keys. Don’t mind me, just—“ He stopped short, taking in the scene. “Oh. Right. I’ll just...grab these and go.”

Sebastian and Tessa sprang apart, the spell thoroughly broken. Sebastian cleared his throat and straightened his jacket with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Evening, Harry,” he said, his voice only slightly strained.

“Evening,” Harry replied, grinning as he pocketed his keys. “Lovely night for...research.”

After Harry left with a knowing wink, Sebastian turned back to Tessa, who was fighting back laughter.

“Well,” she said. “That was perfectly timed.”

“Indeed.” Sebastian found himself smiling despite the interruption. “Though I should probably take it as a sign to actually leave this time.”

“Probably wise.”

He moved toward the door, then paused. “Tessa? What happens now?”

She met his eyes directly. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I’d like to find out.”

Sebastian nodded, something hopeful settling in his chest. “So would I.”

As he stepped into the misty London evening, Sebastian found himself thinking of Will’s words: Some moments stand out with perfect clarity that nothing can touch.

Walking away from Tessa Lawson with his heart completely exposed and his priorities fundamentally altered was undoubtedly one of those moments.

The fog swirled around him as he walked, and Sebastian smiled into the London night, feeling lighter than he had in years.