middle name starts with a K. Can you guess it?”
“Maybe. Give me a hint.”
“It’s a political name.”
“How old are you?” I asked, figuring that the year he was born would affect his parents’ choice.
“I’ll be twenty-eight on Valentine’s Day.”
“Really? My birthday is December 25.”
“So we were both born on holidays.”
“Your middle name is Kennedy, isn’t it?” I guessed.
He smiled and modestly shook his head. Boy, was he a cutie.
Our dinner reservation was at a cozy restaurant on Lake Lanier Island. Sebastian got us a table on the balcony overlooking the water. The sound of small waves hitting the shore, the smooth Ella Fitzgerald track, “Taking a Chance on Love,” playing in the background, and the dim lights made for a very romantic meal.
When the waiters served us, Sebastian asked me to bow my head for grace.
“Dear Lord, thank You for the food we are about to receive. May it nourish our bodies. Lord, this is a very difficult time for my family and me because of the threats we’ve had to endure. Please watch over us and keep us safe from harm. Thank You also for my newfound friendship with Christian. In Your name we pray, Amen.”
“You’re amazing on your job, do you know that?” he asked as he cut into his medium-rare sirloin.
Sipping my tea with one hand and bashfully holding my chest with the other, I asked, “What makes you say that?”
“You saved my dad’s life in Illinois.”
“No, I just got him out of the way.”
“Be modest, but my family watched it over and over on tape because we want to be aware of situations like that for ourselves.”
“Oh, so you all are doing self-training,” I teased.
“Yeah, because when you hear other agents joke that maybe he should have gotten blown up, it makes you want to take matters into your own hands,” he said, before looking away.
Again, I felt where he was coming from. Some things weren’t meant to be frivolous, so I touched his hand gently to assure him it was okay. He looked back at me and our eyes held a compelling gaze. We finished that course with lighter conversation.
During dessert, Sebastian reached across the table and placed his hand on mine. “Christian, are you in a relationship right now?”
“No,” I responded confidently.
“Can a man be interested?” He smiled, showing me that sexy dimple of his again.
“Yes,” I said.
That night, Sebastian checked us into a bed-and-breakfast in Macon—separate rooms, of course.
He went to his room and I went into mine. I took a hot shower and dressed for bed. All I could think about was the heat of his breath on my skin. I crawled into the full-sized bed, but knew I wasn’t going to sleep right away.
I gazed out the window and could see the outline of the mountains of Georgia. All I could think about was what he was thinking.
Eventually, sleep overtook me. I slept well.
The next day we visited Savannah and rode the ferryboat. We went to Albany, and I remember being impressed by the newly built additions to the college, Albany State University. Forty miles south in Valdosta, we saw the tree lighting ceremony at Wild Adventure amusement park. We had tea in Plains, where former president Jimmy Carter was raised.
On the third day, Sebastian took me to the Château Élan, a four-star hotel on the north side of Atlanta that stood out on a patch of land all by itself. My room contained a king-sized bed with an old-fashioned quilt. There was a fireplace in the large living room area and a Jacuzzi that could fit four people.
“This suite is amazing,” I said as Sebastian brought in my bag.
“So are you,” he said with a grin.
Sebastian Kennedy Stokes had me completely confused. I didn’t want our time together to end, but I didn’t want to fall for him too quickly. He could easily break my heart, and I didn’t want to give him the chance to do so.
We stood by the window, admiring the view of Stone Mountain. He grabbed my hands and held them tightly. “What are your goals? Are you planning to stay a federal agent forever, or would you like to have a family someday? I’ve heard it’s hard to do both.”
My heart froze. I’d forgotten all about the possibility that I might be pregnant with Troy’s baby. I quickly withdrew my hand from his and excused myself. Tears of fear ran down my face as I rushed into the bathroom.
“Chris, what’s wrong?” he asked, following me.
I stood there, staring at him, for several moments. Finally I said, “I’ve got to go,” and quickly left the room.
He followed me as I practically sprinted down the hall. “Please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded.
I turned to him, nearly hyperventilating. “I just need some time to think,” I said. I walked past the reception desk and out through the revolving glass doors. Breathing deeply of the cool, fresh air, I found a woodsy area with a stream. After spending about thirty minutes with nature, I finally felt a little more relaxed. I still didn’t know what to do about my situation, but at least I could return to my room.
When I got there, the room was empty. Sebastian had apparently returned to his own room. I sank onto the big couch. My body was scaring me. I was going into the second month of missing my cycle. I remembered the last time I missed a period…when I got pregnant in college.
My thoughts were interrupted by a loud rapping at the door.
“Christian,” Sebastian said through the door, “I want to talk to you.”
I let several moments pass without responding. I figured he would go away eventually. He didn’t.
“Please?” he begged.
“No, Sebastian. I want to be alone.”
“Let’s just talk about the problem. I’m concerned.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. You’ve got a state race to get ready for,” I said, and placed my head back against the door.
“Chris, trust me. If I didn’t want to be here, if I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t be here. But because I care about you and your well-being, I’m asking you to tell me what’s got you down.”
I didn’t respond. Maybe he was right. Part of me wanted to just release all of these issues into the open—mainly my potential pregnancy.
“Okay,” I said, unlatching the chain. “The
