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Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Fortunately, Sebastian managed not to say any of that out loud. He was thirty years old, but it still seemed wrong to swear in front of his parents.
“Sorry, I have plans,” he said to his mom and dad. “I told you to call before you visit.”
“What is the point of living so close if we cannot stop in and see you?” Mom said.
“I don’t live all that close to Ashton Corners. It’s nearly an hour’s drive.”
And part of the reason for that was to avoid these situations.
But apparently he still lived too close to avoid the unexpected drop-in.
“You don’t have plans tonight,” Mom insisted. “It’s Valentine’s Day and you don’t have a girlfriend. Only couples have plans tonight.”
“I have plans,” Sebastian repeated. “So you have to go before my visitor arrives.”
“Who is your visitor?”
“It’s a secret.”
Bad call. Now his mother was even more intrigued.
“It must be a girl, don’t you think?” she said to his father. “He was lying to us about not having a girlfriend.”
Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was not lying to you.”
“Maybe you are having other single men over?” Mom suggested. “Like a Bro-entine’s Day? Let us see what you are preparing.”
She ducked under his arm and entered the house.
Sebastian sighed and followed her into the kitchen.
There was a bottle of white wine in an ice bucket. The table was set. There were even candles.
“Looks like a date to me,” Dad said. “Your date is a woman, yes?”
Sebastian nodded.
“Ha! You nodded. You agreed you have a date!”
“Yes, I have a date. She’s not technically my girlfriend, but we’ve been seeing each other for a little while. Now, can you please leave? Having my parents here when she arrives would spoil the mood.”
“We brought food.” Mom lifted up two plastic bags that Sebastian hadn’t noticed before. “I need to put it away.”
“I’ll deal with it,” Sebastian said.
“No, I can do it.” Mom was already opening up the fridge, and she noticed the box on the counter. “You bought donuts for her! You know, a good chocolate cake would be more romantic. Why donuts?”
Obviously Sebastian wasn’t going to mention his conversation with Amber.
He shrugged. “She really likes donuts.”
“Tell me more about her. What is her job? Where did she study? Where is she from?”
“She’ll be here any minute. Can you please leave?”
He’d been nervous before, and now he was very agitated.
Of course, if everything went well, he’d tell his parents about Amber eventually, but he wasn’t ready for that yet—not here, not like this—and without a doubt, she wasn’t, either. She’d made her thoughts on family interference clear.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Mom said as she put a bag of bok choy in the crisper. “I want to meet her. See if she is good enough for you.”
“Please, Mom. She’s shy. She won’t appreciate being ambushed like this. I’ll bring her over soon, okay?”
“Hmph.”
“Why do you have grapefruit?” Dad asked, holding up the two grapefruit from the fruit bowl on the counter. “I thought you hated grapefruit.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Or does she like grapefruit?” Mom asked. “Grapefruit is breakfast food. You are thinking she will stay overnight? She is not even your girlfriend.”
Once again, Sebastian hadn’t actually intended to use the grapefruit for any weird sex acts, just as a joke he shared with Amber, but his cheeks flamed.
“Mom.” He grasped her hand and started leading her to the front entrance.
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Ah, I am going to meet her!” Mom pulled her hand out of Sebastian’s grasp and hurried to the door. She wrenched it open. “Amber, what are you doing here?”
* * *
Sebastian’s mother was here.
Oh, God, no.
“Hi, Auntie Cecilia. Uncle Randall,” Amber said, out of instinct. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
She was certain Sebastian hadn’t invited his parents over, since he looked as desperate to get out of this situation as she was. His mom and dad must have turned up unexpectedly.
Cecilia glanced between Sebastian and Amber, and then her gaze lingered on Amber. Amber’s long coat was undone, and underneath, she was wearing a little black dress and high black boots.
She looked like a woman who planned to have sex tonight.
“What are you wearing, Amber?” Cecilia asked. “That barely counts as a dress. It is a shirt!” She turned to Sebastian. “Amber is your mystery woman. Amber?”
“Yes, Mom,” Sebastian said, pulling Amber inside. “Now can you please leave?”
“She is the one you are making a romantic dinner for?”
Amber’s head snapped toward Sebastian. “What are you talking about?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he muttered.
Well, this was certainly a big surprise for Valentine’s Day.
It was all wrong. A romantic dinner was the last thing she needed. She’d just wanted to order fast food and fuck one last time.
And now she had to deal with his parents. What terrible luck.
She wanted to sink into the floor.
“Mom, you’re making a mess of this,” Sebastian said. “Could you leave now so I can talk to Amber alone?”
Cecilia clucked her tongue. “I do not approve of you being with Amber.”
“Why not? You’re friends with her parents. I thought you’d be thrilled—a little too thrilled.”
“Look at her.” Cecilia gestured to Amber’s barely-there dress. “She is dressed like—”
“Don’t say it, Mom!”
It was the first time Amber had ever heard him raise his voice.
“She is not good enough for you,” Cecilia went on. “Rosemary and Stuart let her get away with too much. Yes, they are friends, but that doesn’t mean I approve of all their parenting methods. Did you know her grandmother caught her buying condoms when she was only seventeen? And she used to give Diana dirty books when they were teenagers.”
That had happened a grand total of once.
“You are a doctor,” his mother continued. “She went to Laurier.”
No surprise that Amber’s university hadn’t been prestigious enough for them.
Amber wanted to talk back, but she couldn’t manage it. Cecilia was a family friend, someone she’d been taught to respect.
Randall placed his hand on Cecilia’s shoulder. “You have made your point. Let them talk by themselves.”
He didn’t disagree with anything his wife had said, though.
“Mom.” Sebastian’s hands were clenched at his sides. “I don’t want you to ever, ever talk like that.” He reached for Amber. “I lo—”
“Nice to see you again!” Amber chirped, waving at his parents.
Sebastian had been about to declare his love for her, hadn’t he?
No, she couldn’t take it.
Cecilia sniffed, and then she and Randall headed outside. Finally.
Sebastian turned to Amber and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure she never says stuff like that again. I promise.”
“How would you manage that?”
“Threaten to stop talking to her.”
“And you would mean that.”
“Yes,” he said, “I would.”
Admittedly, a part of Amber was thrilled at the firmness in his voice. He was Mr. Perfect Son, but apparently he was willing to throw his parents’ approval away for her.
“I told you she didn’t like me,” Amber said.
“I never heard about the dirty books and the condoms.”
“You were away at university.”
“It was ten years ago. How can she...” He shook his head. “Listen to me, there is nothing wrong with any of the choices you made. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
He led her into the kitchen, where the table was set for a nice dinner. There was a vase of roses in the center. Even a tablecloth—she doubted any of her exes knew what a tablecloth was.
He took both her hands in his and looked her in the eye. “I mean it, Amber. When I met you at the grocery store, I thought we’d just have a bit of fun together. I didn’t expect to fall for you, but I did. I love your unabashed sexiness, the way you created the life you wanted for yourself, the way you’ve put yourself out there again and again. I love your cross-stitching and your crochet peacocks and...” He grabbed an envelope off the counter. “Here.”
She couldn’t stop herself from opening it.
He’d signed them up for the cake class she’d wanted to take in Waterloo.
Some people saw her as the flighty youngest child, but since they’d met again as adults, he’d seemed to appreciate everything about her. It wasn’t as if he only liked one part of her or wanted her to be someone other than who she was.
But though she had some rather tender feelings for Sebastian, they were all about friendship and sex. They weren’t romantic.
That’s a lie.
No, it wasn’t. She’d been a little worried before about her teeny-tiny feelings of romance, but Sebastian had been about to say he loved her, and she’d recoiled. She definitely didn’t love him. That wasn’t what she was looking for right now.
Even if she was, going out with him was a terrible idea. Look at what had happened today! His parents had barged their way into his house. What if she’d been eating a donut off his cock? It was fortunate they’d only caught her wearing a revealing dress.
His parents were probably going to have a fight with her parents now.
She wasn’t up for this drama. Not for a man she liked but was nowhere close to loving.
“I can’t do this,” she said to Sebastian, handing back the envelope. “I can’t cause problems between you and your parents.”
“Don’t worry about them. I’ll handle it.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t feel that way about you. I’m so sorry.” Tears came to her eyes. He was her friend; she felt badly for not being able to give him what he wanted.
But she couldn’t.
He raked a hand through his hair. “I understand. I suppose it’s best that we stop seeing each other now. Just take this before you go.” He handed her a box, emblazoned with the logo for Glazed, and she couldn’t help the unhinged laugh that came to her lips.
“You bought donuts. For...?”
“No, not for that. Though if you really wanted...” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “I got them to make you laugh, and because you said you like this donut shop.”
Oh, God.
No, this was all wrong.
She hurried to the door and laced up her impractical boots as quickly as she could.
* * *
Sebastian ate the salad by himself. He ate the mussels by himself.
He opened the bottle of wine and drank a large glass before he could even think about what he was doing.
He didn’t bother lighting the candles.
He’d told Amber how he felt, and it had been a disaster.
Even if his parents hadn’t come at such an awkward time, she said she didn’t have those feelings for him.
It wasn’t meant to be.
She’d told him she wasn’t interested in a relationship, but he’d thought—from the way she kissed him, the way she looked at him—that it had all meant something.
Apparently, he’d been wrong.
He poured himself another glass of wine and sank onto the couch.