Page 85 of Mine Again
“And now I do.”
For a moment, my chest tightens. The way he looks at me, like I’m not just a woman on a horse beside him but something more.
Like I’m someone he chose. Someone who matters. And it terrifies me how much I want to believe it.
I blink, trying to shake off the weight of it, and focus on Sebastian’s voice as he explains the basics before we set out.
He shows me how to hold the reins, how to sit, how to signal the horse to move. Strangely I seem to have a knack for this… or Luna is just good with a novice.
Now we ride side by side, the horses settling into a slow, steady rhythm as we follow a trail lined with olive trees.
The air smells of warm earth and faint citrus, and I find myself starting to relax. The sway of the horse beneath me isn’t as terrifying as I expected. It’s almost soothing.
For a while, neither of us speaks. The silence is comfortable, like we’re sharing something without needing words.
Thunder, Sebastian’s horse, edges close enough that my knee brushes the leather of his saddle again, and the heat of him seems closer than it should.
Sebastian glances over at me, his expression thoughtful.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about your family.”
Oh. My stomach drops, and I shift uneasily in my saddle.
Let’s hope he doesn’t want to dive deeper into my family dynamics. I’m not sure how I would even begin to explain the whole Mafia thing.Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about it for long.
“My family’s old-school too,” he says, his tone softer now.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“In what way?” I ask, genuinely curious.
He hesitates for a beat, as if weighing how much to share. Then he smiles, but there’s a hint of something heavier beneath it.
“They believe in tradition. Legacy. They want me settled, married, grounded. Preferably sooner rather than later.”
My ears prick up at ‘married’.
“That sounds like a lot to carry,” I say, watching the way his posture straightens as he speaks, like the weight of those expectations is always there.
“It is. But that’s how it works when you’re born into a family business. I don’t have to marry someone they choose, but I do have to prove I’m ready. That I’m serious. If I don’t by the end of next year, someone else will be handed the reins.”
There’s no bitterness in his voice, only a quiet acceptance that somehow makes it feel heavier. But something flickers in his expression, the smallest shadow, gone before I can name it.
“That’s a lot of pressure,” I murmur.
“It is,” he agrees. He glances at me again, his gaze steady, the playfulness from earlier gone. “So yeah. I’m not looking for a fling either.”
The way he says it seems to electrify the air. Not uncomfortable. Just… loaded. Like he’s telling me more than the words alone convey.
I remind myself I’ve done my homework. After our first date, I ran a background check on Sebastian Moretti.
Everything came up clean. A few speeding tickets, but nothing else.
No scandals. No whispers of trouble.
And if he’s a playboy, he’s very discreet. The only photos I found of him with women were at charity galas or fundraisers, and at all of them he was with his sisters. He sounds too good to be true. Or maybe I hit the jackpot.
This admission of his deepens things. At least for me.
