LITMIR.BIZ

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with them. I took the rabbits out on the deck. I never neglect my animals! And if you think I do, then you can—”

      Sebastian raised his hands, palms out. “So, fine, you do take care of them, I didn’t know. You weren’t here. At least you’re not here whenever I’ve been here. Which must take quite a lot of effort on your part.” He paused and then repeated, “You aren’t here. I wonder why….” He let his voice trail off.

      Their gazes met and she knew Sebastian knew exactly why she wasn’t here.

      She waited for him to suggest, as Max had, that she was running scared, but he just said gruffly, “Anyway, I took him for a run.”

      “Thank you.” Her tone was stiff. And she turned away to clip Harm’s leash on his collar anyway.

      “I’m leaving in the morning,” he said to her back. “Back to Reno. So I won’t be here to walk your dog. “

      “I’m sure we’ll manage,” she said, still not looking at him, heading toward the door.

      “Or kiss you senseless.”

      She spun around and stared at him.

      He smiled. “Only saying.”

      It was far better that Sebastian was gone.

      Really, it was. She didn’t have to keep bumping into him in the hallway or on the stairs. There was no T-shirt hanging on the hook in the bathroom tempting her to pluck it off and breathe in the subtle scent of him. There was also no coffee container sitting on the countertop because he’d forgotten to put it away, and no running shoes by the door to trip over, and no pair of smoky-green eyes watching her every time she looked up.

      It was a relief all the way around.

      So why did the place seem so empty?

      It wasn’t empty, of course. Harm was here. The kittens were here. And the rabbits and the guinea pig.

      It was exactly the way it would have been after Frank left.

      Exactly the way it was when Seb had gone to Reno after the very first weekend he’d bought the houseboat. It hadn’t been lonely then, had it?

      Well, actually, now that you mentioned it…

      No! Forget it. And it was true that she did breathe easier while he was gone—though she still felt his presence everywhere.

      But she had to admit she was surprised and a little disconcerted when Friday came and Sebastian didn’t.

      She didn’t go out on Friday night, actually sat home and worked and played with the kittens and, heaven help her, played the violin that Sebastian had brought with him.

      Why not? She thought crossly. He never played it.

      She was always careful to put it back where she found it. She didn’t think he ever knew she’d touched it.

      She shouldn’t touch it. And yet she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off.

      She’d missed not playing, but she hadn’t realized how much until she began again. It had nothing at all to do with it being Sebastian’s violin.

      Nothing!

      Saturday her mother arrived and there was barely time to think about Sebastian, except to be grateful he wasn’t there. Her mother wasn’t going to stay with her; she’d arranged to stay with a friend on Vashon Island. But of course Neely was picking her up at the airport and would take her back to see the houseboat.

      Still she hoped he hadn’t come back while she was at the airport. She didn’t think Sebastian needed to meet her mother, and she was quite sure Lara didn’t need to meet Sebastian.

      She hadn’t seen her mother since going back to Wisconsin at Christmas, but Lara was the same as ever, rather like the weather—mostly sunny and with scattered clouds and the occasional rain shower whenever she teared up remembering “the good old days” with John.

      “It’s so empty without him,” she told Neely in the car on their way from the airport to Lake Union. “Even after all this time.”

      “I know,” Neely agreed, because it was—and because knocking around the houseboat the past two days had given her a glimmer of how empty life could seem—and how aware she was of a man who wasn’t there.

      “But he’d be glad I’m out visiting you instead of staying home,” Lara went on as they drove north from the airport. “I can hardly wait to see your houseboat.”

      “Oh, er, about the houseboat…” Neely hadn’t told her mother about what happened. Now she did, and watched Lara’s consternation grow.

      “You’re sharing a houseboat with a man?”

      “I’ve always been sharing a houseboat with a man. This is just a different man.”

      “What sort of man?”

      “He’s like Dad. A workaholic architect. Totally consumed by his job.” Well, almost.

      Lara looked appalled. “Like your father? You’re not sleeping with him!”

      “What?” Neely almost drove into the side of a fish seller’s van.

      “Of course you’re not. You’re far more sensible than I ever was.” Lara shook her head at the memory. “But if he’s really like your father you have to be careful.”

      Tell me something I don’t know, Neely thought. “I am being careful, Mom,” she said with more assurance than she felt. “You don’t need to worry. We have an understanding.”

      Lara muffled a snort. “You might. Does he?” she asked sceptically.

      “Of course he does.”

      “Mmm.” Lara’s doubts were evident. “If he’s like your father he can be very persuasive.”

      “Mom!”

      “I’m only saying,” Lara said defensively. “Max was very determined.”

      Thank you for sharing, Neely thought, reasonably certain she could have done without the knowledge. “Speaking of whom, are you planning on seeing him while you’re here?”

      “Not likely,” Lara said. “He wasn’t pleased that I took you and scarpered.”

      Neely blinked. “You did?”

      Lara made a noise that might have been agreement. “He was very bossy. And he expected me to just fall in with whatever he thought we should do. Or not do. And then, he worked all the time and I was just supposed to get the leftovers—a few minutes here and there, which there were damn few of,” she said darkly. “He didn’t even have time to get married.” She shrugged. “So I left.”

      “Really?” The details had never been forthcoming before. It must have been coming back to Seattle that coaxed them out of her mother.

      “Yes, really. What was I supposed to do? Just sit around and wait for him to come to his senses? Hardly likely. Max wasn’t the type. So I thought I’d do something dramatic, like leave. And he’d wake up.” She laughed a little bitterly. “The more fool I. He hated all that commune stuff so when I took off for the place near Berkeley, I was sure he’d come and grab us both back. But—” she shrugged “—he didn’t. So it’s good I left. He had a lousy sense of priorities.”

      Neely had been barely four at the time they’d decamped for the commune. She had few memories of her father from those days. Mostly she remembered waiting and waiting for him to come and pick her up—and then her mother saying, “I guess something really important happened. Let’s you and I go to the park.”

      Now she gave her mother credit for not bad-mouthing her father when she easily could have.

      “I think he might have changed a little,” she said now. “He does go sailing with

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