by Megan McCoy
“A ladder, Mom, seriously?” She grabbed her hand that wasn’t strapped to a board, and held it up to her cheek while her mom smiled.
“I’ve been climbing ladders since before you were born, and I’ll keep climbing them. One little accident won’t stop me. Bryant?” She looked for her husband and Maggie stepped back. A nurse came in and they all looked at her expectantly.
“Hi, Cambry, hi, Ellen. I’m Laine.” She looked at everyone else and gave a small wave. “We’re keeping you for a while, Ellen. They want the swelling to go down on your hand some before surgery, so you will stay here tonight. You had a bad concussion and we want to make sure things are fine. Dr. Carpenter said Mr. Carpenter wanted to stay here tonight, so we will fix him up a spot here next to you.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Maggie asked, needing to be sure.
“With some rest. The rest of you can clear out, visiting hours start about nine in the morning, you don’t need to be here for the surgery, but we will call you after. Depending, on how she handles the surgery, which is minor, she will probably be going home before noon tomorrow. We’ll see what the doctor says in the morning. I’ll be on duty all night, so call if you get concerned. I’ll be doing some tests here in a bit and we’re going to let her get some rest, so say goodnight.” She left the room.
“Well, that was subtle,” Maggie said wanting to stay with her mom, too, but knowing she was only a few blocks away and rest for her mom was the most important thing.
“Sure was,” agreed Cambry. “Mom, Laine knows my number and Ben will check on you before he leaves for home tonight. Ben will call me after you get your wrist set and I’ll call Maggie. You and Dad sleep good, I love you.”
“Glad you’re okay, Grammy,” Ryan kissed her cheek.
“I love you, Mom, glad you are okay. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?” Maggie said. Then looked at Sebastian. “Mom, this is my next-door neighbor, Sebastian, he drove me here.”
“Thank you, Sebastian,” she said softly, then turned to her family. “Love you all. Will talk tomorrow. My head is pounding though.”
“We’re leaving,” Maggie said. “Let me know if you need me.”
“I will.” She shut her eyes and Maggie felt a bit of the helplessness slide back over her. Sebastian took her by the arm and they left the room. She threw a glance back over her shoulder at her dad sitting next to her mom and holding her hand. Everyone needed a hand to hold tonight, apparently.
Cambry hugged her in the hall. “Ryan and I are going to have dinner with Ben in the cafeteria, do you want to come?”
Maggie shook her head. “I’ve kept Sebastian long enough. We’ll just go home, but thanks. Will you call me as soon as you hear anything?”
Cambry nodded and Ryan waved at her as they went down the hall the other way, and she and Sebastian headed to the elevator.
“You okay?” he asked on the way down.
“Yeah, a little shaky, though. My mom is tough. She runs marathons. It was so weird to see her in the hospital bed or thinking she was hurt. I don’t even remember her ever being sick,” she said, and followed him out into the parking lot.
He opened the door for her when they reached the car, and she slid in, still chattering away, from nerves and relief. “She grows her own garden and she and I do some canning every year together, but she does a lot more on her own. She still works in the doctor’s office where she’s worked all my life, and she’s been taking online French classes for a few years.” Her mom was wonderful and would be okay.
They pulled out of the parking lot and he said, “Home,” to the car. The map instantly changed as they headed toward their neighborhood. She’d all but forgotten he had just moved in and didn’t know his way around yet.
She turned to him, in her seat and looked at his calm demeanor, and classically handsome features. Muscles flexed in his arms as he turned the steering wheel, and Maggie wondered again what he did for a living. Well, she’d find out sooner or later.
Gasping in horror, she saw the time. They had been there over three hours. “My pie!” she wailed. “The house is probably burned down! Simon!”
“I shut the oven off,” he said, glancing at her. “Your dog is fine.”
She stared at him again, meeting his eyes briefly, and then said, “You hit me!”
“I smacked your bottom to get your attention. It worked.” She didn’t know what to say to that. At least he hadn’t slapped her across the face like people did in movies, she guessed. “Are you always this dramatic?” he continued.
Now, she was the one without words. He hadn’t seen her at her best at all today, had he? First the window, then her mom, and then she accused him of hitting her, not to mention leaving the pie on. Hopefully it would be decent anyway but felt she owed him more than a pie now. He pulled into her driveway instead of his.
“Still got those screwdrivers?” he asked.
Oh, yeah. That was why he came over in the first place, and he was still unpacking. She’d taken most of his evening with her crisis. “Sure do, come on in.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.
“Hang on,” she said, as she rushed to the kitchen to check her pie. Still barely warm and looking perfect. She cut two big slices, topped them with a scoop of ice cream and carried them back into the living room.
“Here you are, a small thank you.” She handed him his plate and motioned to the couch.
“This looks worth an extra ten minutes,” he said, accepting it from her. Well, she knew where she stood. Second in line to apple pie, apparently. They ate in silence for a few minutes and she noticed he ate quickly and appreciatively. Poor guy probably hadn’t had any supper, she realized.
“Thank you for taking me,” she blurted out, licking a bit of gooey apple from her spoon. Yum. “I’m not sure I could have managed.”
“If you had to, you could have,” he said calmly.
“Probably true,” Maggie admitted. “But I wouldn’t have thought to turn the oven off.”
“That would have been a waste,” he said. “If I can borrow those screwdrivers, I’ll leave you alone.”
She grabbed his plate and put them both in the sink, then took the case of screwdrivers into the living room where he stood by the door. “I’ll return them soon,” he said, then, “Call me if you need me, Maggie.”
“I will, thank you, Sebastian.” She shut and locked the door behind him, watching his long, lean body walk down the sidewalk.
Tonight, could have been a disaster. But then, along came Sebastian Jones and it wasn’t.
Chapter 2
Maggie stared at the ceiling a few hours later after calling to make sure her mom was sleeping, then shut her eyes and rolled over on her stomach, punching up her pillow. She needed a new pillow. She needed to stop thinking about Sebastian Jones. Her brain was having nothing of that, though. He was all it wanted to think about and she couldn’t figure out how to stop it. Of course, she’d dated some, but had never had a live in and never met anyone who stayed around longer than a handful of dates. They just didn’t strike her fancy or her fantasy.
Yes, she had one of those fantasy things all right, had since she was young, but no man had ever been, well, either in tune to it or interested in it if she worked up the nerve to confess. This man had fulfilled two of them in just a couple of hours after recently meeting her.
“Actions have consequences,” he’d said. Yes, she remembered and hoped he meant that.
Then he’d smacked her butt, low, hard and precisely. She figured he did everything precisely, unlike her who even cooked by doing what her mom called eyeballing which meant she guessed a lot. But a man who told her that her actions would have consequences, and followed through with a spanking? Not that one smack a spanking made of course, but it was a start. It let her know he meant what he said.
She shivered all over and pulled her light comforter up higher.
What was she going to do? She had no idea. Well, not true. She was going to ca
ll Keith and tell him to not bother calling her anymore, then fix Sebastian’s window, and then do... something else to say thank you for driving her last night, and just maybe earn herself a real spanking instead of a simple butt swat.
She would fix his window, because that was technically Ryan’s issue and she wouldn’t take the chance Sebastian would call Ben over it. So, window fixed, then what could she do to help him out or help her achieve her goal? Unpack some of his boxes? That was kind of presumptuous and interfering, right? Sign him up for a cable package? Cook in his kitchen? Dang it, she needed to learn to brat better. She obviously had no clue. Well, she’d go to his house tomorrow to wait for the window people and figure out something. Maybe she would take Simon over and let him poop on the floor! No, he wouldn’t do that. Unless it was raining really hard or snowing, anyway. He was a dachshund, after all. The weather tomorrow was supposed to be a perfect late June day. All warm, sunny and great.
She’d call as soon as she got up and check on her mom, then see where she would be, at home or still in the hospital, after the window guys came. That’s what she needed to be thinking about. Not about having her bottom perched over Sebastian’s lap while he spanked her. Yes, that was the last thing she needed to think about, and it was as she drifted off to sleep.
Sebastian stared at the ceiling as he thought about his day. It was not how he had planned it. He planned his day every morning over his first cup of coffee. Wrote a detailed list and followed that list. He liked routine and having a plan always made the day go better.
Once again, he’d come into a new town to rescue a failing store. This time, though, there were three stores he needed to supervise, and once again, as he usually did, he’d bought a house that he would renovate while he was here.
When he moved, he’d flip it or rent it out, but around this area houses were cheap, and he liked the area. It had excellent schools and very low crime and he knew that his new store would bring in more jobs and his house would be worth much more when he was ready to move on. He would be here about two years, probably, so it made sense. The new store here in Fenway was within fifteen minutes of this house, and he was upgrading two other stores, all within an hour’s drive of each other, from mediocre to amazing. It was what he did. He was very good at it. His methodical and unemotional ways and his do what needed done methods, made him a star in the company. He should be good at it. He was the third generation of Jones men who owned and worked for a farm equipment company. Jones’ Farm Equipment.
There were thousands of acres of prime farmland in lush southern Illinois and many farmers who needed equipment. He was excited, in his way, about the challenge, and he was also excited, in his way, about the new neighbor.
From the time she bopped over, obviously nervous, but bravely owning up to her mistake, and then helping make amends, he’d been enchanted. He liked that, made him admire her. He also admired her adorable, bobbly ass she’d clad in those tiny denim shorts. Add in a bouncy, curly ponytail and freckles over her nose, and he was done for. It would be as much fun to play with her as with his new house.
After she left, he wracked his brain trying to think of an excuse to go over and see if she was as cute and available as he thought. He hoped there wasn’t a husband or a live in hanging around, who was too cheap to buy her a ring, because she’d worn none. Tools were a good thing. He wasn’t going to go over and borrow sugar after all. Oddly, they were thrown together for hours, and he was able to put his hand on her butt, and give her a few orders that she seemed to obey without question. “Change your clothes.” “I’ll drive.” She also panicked easily, but calmed down under a firm hand. It boded well for the future, and since he was to be here a while, a sweet, biddable, next door neighbor would not be a bad thing. Oh, and she cooked and quite well. He’d find out tomorrow if she fixed his window and see how things went from there. He smiled and flipped off the TV. Bedtime. He liked order and rules. He would see how adorable little Maggie liked them in the next few weeks.
Maggie stretched under the covers and reached for the phone next to her bed. No calls or messages while she slept. A good thing. No news was good news. She’d call the hospital before shift change and talk to Laine and see how her mom’s night went. Hopefully peacefully and she’d be going home after they set her wrist this morning. If so, she’d make some food and run it out to the farm later, and see if they needed anything else. This morning, though, she was getting that window fixed for her tall taciturn neighbor. Maybe see what else she could do for him. She did have ball practice later but that wasn’t until closer to evening. She should have plenty of time to snoop through his house, get his window fixed, go see her mom, and be back in time for practice. “Full day, Simon,” she said. “You ready to go outside?” The fat little thing looked at her and flopped his head back on his pillow. Yeah, he’d stay in bed a while longer.
She got up and slipped into the shower while he got a few more minutes of beauty sleep. Wandering over to her computer, a few minutes later, coffee mug in hand, she opened her computer to find the local glass company’s number. One of her student’s parents worked there and she knew she’d get good treatment. They didn’t open until seven thirty, so she had another few minutes. Why was she up so early? Oh, yeah, she wanted to watch Mr. Jones drive away. But first she’d call the hospital and check on her mom and see how her night went. Connected to the fourth-floor nurses’ station, she was reassured that her mom and dad both slept fairly well, she was already down having her wrist set, and they would know more after the doctor made his rounds later. Good news.
Maggie refilled her coffee and walked to the front room and perched on her window seat by the window closest to his house. Did this make her a stalker? Nope, just an early bird looking out her window and enjoying the sounds of the birds and the sight of the flowers across the way, and if she happened to see a cute guy walking to his car, well, that was just a perk, wasn’t it? And she had just missed him, she could see his car backing out of the driveway. Darn it anyway. Oh well. At least she saw his car? Now, that was silly. At least she knew the coast was clear and she was free to go over, as soon as the window people agreed to meet her there. Oh! She needed to go measure the window, didn’t she? So, she could give them the right size. They probably needed to know that. It would be the wise thing to do. Nothing to do with the fact she couldn’t wait to get back in his house.
“Come on, Simon, let's go for a walk,” she said, putting her still half-full cup of coffee down, fishing her tape measure from her small tool kit, and grabbing the leash and her poop bags. He finally decided to get out of bed, doing that adorable stretch thing he did, and waddled over to her, while she fished Sebastian’s key out of her shorts still on the floor. “One of us needs to go on a diet,” she told him. Well, at eight years old, he was just putting on a little middle-aged spread. It happened to everyone, she often consoled him. He didn’t seem to care. He did care about his food bowl and his naps, and loved his walks. “Let’s go,” she said.
She went out the door and went the other way, away from Sebastian’s house, and down the block. Simon needed to take his time, and despite her having this lovely fantasy of being over Sebastian’s knee and getting a real spanking, she wasn’t going to have Simon poop in his house. That was just going too far, though it made her lips twitch just a little as she cleaned up his mess on the second street on their trek around the block.
They finished up and walked up the stairs to his house, while Simon looked at her questioningly. “I know, it's not our house, is it?” She told him, “Yet, I have a key and we’re going in. Be on your best behavior, okay?”
Dropping the poop bag on the porch, to pick up on her way out, she and Simon went inside. Unhooking the leash, Maggie looked around. It felt very sterile in here. He’d just moved in, and it looked it. There were boxes stacked against the walls neatly, and nothing on any of the walls. She hadn’t seen his kitchen yet, she thought and wandered back toward it. None of the houses in her little nei
ghborhood were McMansions, they were smaller, older and full of what the people on the TV shows called character and very few were open concept. She never understood the appeal of that. Was she the only person in the world who often left dirty dishes in the sink? If so, that was very sad, life was too short to always have a clean kitchen. If not, then why did they want those dishes staring at them and making them feel guilty while they watched TV?
She’d bought her house because it was a fifteen-minute walk on nice days, or a three-minute drive in bad weather, to her school. Her ball field wasn’t far either. She knew most of her neighbors to wave at and speak to, and loved the peaceful serenity of the older trees and lush lawns. Wondering if he bought his house for the same reasons, she peeked into the kitchen. It was as sterile and empty as the rest of the house. She could smell the faint scent of coffee, but didn’t see a pot anywhere, though there was a clean cup in the small dish drainer. Was he a non-breakfast eater too? She thought of her half empty coffee cup somewhere in her living room and wondered what he would think of that? Probably nothing. Reading way too much into a few small incidents would be her downfall, she warned herself.
Where had Simon gone, she wondered, and went to measure the window, then called the glass company who told her they would be there in an hour or so. That would give her time to go home, do some laundry and other things and then she’d come back to supervise the window replacement, and pay them when they finished. That would also give her some time to snoop through the house while she ‘supervised’ the window replacement, she thought.
“Come on, Simon,” she called and heard his nails clicking on the hardwood floors. She needed to take him in to get them cut again. He hated that. She didn’t know why. She enjoyed a pedicure now and again. “We’ll come back later,” she said, and turned to lock the door after them. Just then the leash slipped her hand, and he took off, barking at a squirrel across the road. “No! Simon, get back here!” she called, and took off running down the porch steps and sidewalk after him. Luckily there were no cars and he made it to the bottom of the tree across the yard before stopping to bark at the chittering squirrel who teased from a branch.
