After what she’d been through with Dylan, she had a soft spot for the kid Sebastian had been and the heartbreak he’d endured. Dr. Grant, a man who appeared to have everything, did not have everything.

“Did your foster parents ensure that you received counseling?”

“For years. I hated that, too. I mostly just sat there with my mouth shut and waited for it to be over.”

“You were a tough nut to crack.”

“Still am.”

Regret flashed within her because she wanted to be the person who cracked his hard shell.

Of all the disastrous, ill-conceived urges!

He lived like a bear in a cave, keeping those who did not have the last name of Coleman at arm’s length. He was a heart surgeon who did not understand the inner workings of his own heart. He’d determined that he didn’t want to love or be loved, and who was she to quibble with that?

She didn’t want romantic love, either. But even if she did want that from Sebastian, she was smart enough to know that the very worst thing a woman could do was invest herself in a man based on the fruitless hope that he would change.

It was crucial that they keep things just as they were.

Light and uncomplicated.

Trina and Jonathan Brookside unknowingly fulfilled Leah’s hopes by showing up for church the following morning.

Sebastian sat beside Leah in a pew one section over from the older couple and several rows back. From what Leah had told him, he knew that Sophie, Sophie’s husband, and Sophie’s younger sister had all attended the service the last time Leah had come here. Today, only Trina and Jonathan were present.

The congregation rose to sing. Instead of focusing on the lyrics, he assessed the couple. Leah had her mother’s build and hair color. Trina leaned close to her husband to say something near his ear. Jonathan responded by turning his head to hers. Trina and Leah’s profiles were alike, but Leah’s cheekbones and chin appeared to have come from her father.

How would Trina and Jonathan react if they knew the daughter that should have been theirs was just yards away? Singing the same praise song?

When the service ended, he caught Leah watching the Brooksides with a combination of interest, pain, and sweetness.

She wore high heels that buckled around her ankles. Her jean dress had a wide skirt and a belt made out of floral fabric that knotted at her waist. The charm dangling from the necklace he’d given her rested just below the hollow at the base of her throat. Her hair shone gold under the lights.

He swallowed against a groundswell of tenderness. The swell was so strong, it was a physical force. So strong, it stole his words.

“Are you going to tell them who you are?” he managed to ask.

“Not today.”

“Someday?”