Sebastian

by Megan McCoy

  She pulled into her driveway and headed up her stairs feeling defeated and depressed. Normal feeling after a crushing loss. She’d get over it, but tonight she needed to drown herself in ice cream.

  She got almost to her door when she saw a car pull up in front of her house. Cop car. She looked but didn’t recognize them. “Ms. Carpenter?” A young, sort of handsome police officer got out. She didn’t know him, but he seemed to recognize her.

  “Yes?” she asked warily, hoping that her family was all right. “Summons for court, ma’am,” he said, handing her an envelope then headed next door to Sebastian’s. She sat down on the porch swing and opened it.

  She was still sitting there twenty minutes later when Sebastian came over and sat down beside her on the swing. “How’s your day?” he asked, pushing off with one foot, rocking them gently.

  “Peachy, yours?” she said, not even bothering to look at him.

  Sebastian looked at her, while she very intently didn’t look at him. She was mad. Could he blame her? No, not really. He’d been a jerk. Not his fault. Sure, it was. Who else’s fault could it be? Not hers. It could not be her fault he was falling for her and made a choice to cut her out of his life. That wasn’t fair to her, but in his rationalization, he figured it was easier now than later. He didn’t want to be in love. It did not fit in his lifestyle. It wouldn’t be fair to her. She had a life here, and he would be moving on in a few years. Most women he could play with and leave behind without a worry.

  He liked his women disposable and for some reason, knew this one wouldn’t be.

  “Did you get the court summons, too?” he asked, seeing it there in her hand. “Apparently, he’s suing me for assault.”

  Maggie looked at him with those impossibly huge eyes. “He’s suing you for saving me?”

  Sebastian nodded. “Makes no sense, does it?”

  Her expressive eyes lit up and he could see the fury in them. “Well, he has no case, so there’s that.”

  He nodded. “I know. I’ll call the company lawyer in the morning and see who he suggests I get. He’s corporate law, but I’m sure he knows someone who does criminal law. This is an annoyance, nothing more.”

  He took hers and read it. “Material witness. My lawyer will take care of you, too,” he said as if it were decided.

  She looked at him, as if she didn’t care, and burst into tears. Okay, what caused that? Women.

  Picking her up, easily, he pulled her onto his lap and didn’t really seem to care what the neighbors might think of cute, little Ms. Carpenter sitting on his lap on her porch swing. They could mind their own business as far as he was concerned. He rubbed her back, and made comforting noises, knowing she would have to cry it out before she told him what was wrong. It wasn’t the stupid court paper, was it? He’d been to court a few times over work issues, mostly zoning things and noise complaints, and it had always been handled by the lawyers. This would be no different.

  Was there something else? She had on her ball uniform. Did she lose a game? She didn’t seem like this kind of sore loser, but maybe so. He hoped it had nothing to do with him.

  Finally, her sobs seemed to be slowing down. No one could cry forever. He’d read that somewhere and it seemed to be true. All he had to do was be patient. He could be a very patient man when it suited his purposes, today it did.

  “Want to talk to me?” he said finally, and she shook her head, so he settled her back in his arms and gave the porch swing a little push with his foot. A porch swing was a nice amenity, and he decided to get one on his still bare front porch. Why not? The next owners would enjoy it, even if he didn’t get much use out of it. Liking the way she felt in his arms and on his lap, he was really in no hurry to get up anyway. He could swing a while, everyone deserved a little down time now and then, and he was overdue.

  The night was a warm, sultry Illinois evening, and he could hear the birds settling down, and the bugs coming out. He saw the sunset behind the softly rolling hills outside of town and decided to settle back and enjoy it. How often did he get to see a sunset? He was usually still in the office or on his computer at home, so not often.

  Finally, she lifted her head and looked at him with tear filled eyes. “What did I do?” she asked him.

  Confusing question. “What did you do?” he repeated.

  She nodded which clarified nothing. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what, Maggie?” he asked her.

  “For whatever made you kiss me then ignore me.”

  Oh. Okay. She wanted to have a talk about feelings. Women liked those, or needed them or something every once in a while. Part of having them in your life. Or getting them out of your life. Here he was, after making the decision to cut her out of his life, holding her on his lap, patting her back and touching her soft hair and wanting to kiss her again. Should he lie? It would be very easy to say, I wasn’t ignoring you. But they both knew it wasn’t true and he’d be fooling no one.

  “Yes, that was cowardly of me,” he said, carefully holding her so she didn’t jump and run or something.

  “Nice of you to admit it.” Her head popped off his chest, but she made no effort to get up.

  “Yeah, I’m nice,” he said sarcastically. He was the furthest thing from nice and the sooner this sweet woman realized that, the better for her. He liked her brother and sister-in-law, but he did not need that kind of complication in his life. He had a family that he rarely saw. Why would he want to add more? He’d already called Ben, pleading work and canceled the dinner he’d invited him to while Maggie was in the hospital.

  He liked his work. It was all he needed in his life. So why didn’t he just tell her that, dump her off his lap and go home? Because he was selfish and liked the feel of her in his arms? What had happened to his idea of training her the way he wanted her? She wasn’t one of his disposables and he already knew it and wasn’t sure he liked it one bit. That was the reason.

  Maggie looked up at him, and knew she needed to blow her nose. How come heroines in romance novels never had to blow their noses or else had a delicate kerchief close by? When she cried her face got red, her eyes got swollen and she always needed to blow her nose. She sniffled and hoped that would help.

  “You were very nice to me after the accident,” she said. “Except for that once.” She stopped. She didn’t want to talk about that.

  “You mean the once I blistered your cute butt?” he suggested.

  She nodded, and felt her cheeks flame even more. “Well, you wanted and needed that, so technically while it might not have been too comfortable at the time, it still counts as nice.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to protest this, but shut it. Truthfully, she’d always been curious about a spanking. He was right about that. Also, truthfully, that sucker hurt, and it really wasn’t something she wanted to try again, except for the times she did. But the issue right now was not about that, but about why he was ignoring her. Suddenly, that seemed way more important to her than either losing the ball game or the court summons. Weird. She was turning into a simpering fool, she told herself, but that didn’t help.

  “You could have told me I wasn’t…” She wanted to say ‘what you want’ but substituted with, “Up to your standards.”

  “What does that mean?” His surprise was genuine.

  “It means you are a hot shot running a big company,” she said.

  He interrupted, “That would be my brother Henry. He’s the hot shot running the company. I’m the fireman.”

  “The fireman?” She almost giggled. “Never saw a fireman in shoes worth a few hundred bucks and tailored suits.” She leaned her head back against him, liking it there and enjoying the conversation, some.

  “I go around to stores that aren’t doing as well as we’d like and help turn them around. I also hire the management for any new store we open,” he explained and ran his fingers through her hair again.

  “So, you put out fires, that’s why you’re the fireman,” she guessed.
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br />   “See how smart you are?” he whispered in her hair.

  “Well, I do teach math.” Maggie wondered why she was sitting on his lap, flirting with him when she should be mad at him, and explaining the facts of life to him. “It's not a job for the fainthearted.”

  “There are a lot of things not for the fainthearted,” he said, before he kissed her.

  He kissed her! Why did he do that? He wasn’t her buddy anymore, he hadn’t spoken to her in over a week. Why was he holding her on his lap and kissing her? Why was she kissing him back and more importantly, why was she liking it?

  She let the kiss go on another minute, but knew she had to stop it before it went too far. Pushing him away, she tried not to sound breathless as she said, “You think you can ignore me for a week and then come over here and kiss me?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But I won’t do that again.”

  “Do what again?” she asked pertly. “Kiss me or ignore me?”

  “The latter,” he said and leaned down to kiss her again. Fine. Fine. But they needed to go in the house before the neighbors saw her throwing herself at him anymore than she already had. But she didn’t want to get off his lap.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said, breathing hard. She couldn’t help it.

  “You sure?” he said.

  Maggie wasn’t able to answer, but she nodded her head. He stood up with her in his arms, and they went inside.

  Glaring at the note on her bedside table, Maggie read it one more time. “I’ll be back.” Who did he think he was, The Terminator? He’d left her in the middle of the night. Of course, he had. He was a leaver and she couldn’t trust him. After that wonderful night, and he up and walked out and left her a note. A note. Well, at least he’d done that. Was he back to the silent treatment again? Now, that he got what he wanted. Men. They were all alike. No, they weren’t. He was special, and she wanted him, but apparently, he didn’t really want her, and it was time she realized that.

  Marching to the shower, she turned it on as hot as she could stand and stood under it, scrubbing every bit of him off her body. Wincing as she touched a few sore spots, she tried not to let it make her smile. There was no reason to smile. She had been used and dumped. Well, dang, he had been good at it. Or they had been good together. It had been magical, until she woke up and saw he’d done his disappearing act. Again. Fool me once, she told herself.

  How could he do that? He’d not only made love to her, he’d even shown her the good girl spanking technique. She remembered it quite clearly.

  “No!” She’d struggled to get up from over his lap.

  “Settle down.” He’d smacked her bare bottom fairly hard. “You aren’t in trouble.”

  Okay, she sort of already knew that. Then why was he spanking her? He gave her a few sharp smacks and before she could even yelp, began rubbing.

  “Oh!” she gasped. Now, that felt good.

  He repeated the pattern several times, a few sharp smacks then a gentle rub that made her want to melt, or something. She barely even noticed when the spanks got harder, until she started to wiggle. She did hear Mr. Silent’s voice though telling her to relax, and she tried hard to obey as he continued to pepper her bottom, until suddenly he turned her over and pulled her on top of him. “Use that bottom heat,” he’d told her. And once again, she’d done as she was told. A good girl spanking was every bit as great as she’d read about in books.

  That had not been their last session, and she’d fallen asleep exhausted in the very early morning hours. She knew she was working her way up to a good mad and stepping out of the shower, even barked at Simon, who was at the back door wanting out. Maggie pulled on a pair of soft, loose, cotton shorts, and buttoned up a blue oversized blouse, knowing she was too sore in many places for underwear or tight-fitting clothes. And she would have been happy about it, if he’d been here when she woke up. But nope, he’d trotted off, probably to go home and go into silent mode and not see her until he got horny again. Oh, yeah, that’s the kind of guy she wanted all right, yes, sir.

  She let Simon out and then put food in his bowl and gave him clean water. It wasn’t Simon’s fault she was pissed at the world and she needed to not take it out on him.

  Yesterday sucked. Lost the ball game. Got a court summons. Got seduced and left. What else could have gone wrong?

  Okay, try and put a good spin on it. There would be more ball games. The court summons was really nothing to do with her, but just an annoyance. Like they would really get Sebastian in trouble for saving her from a would-be rapist or whatever it was he was going to do besides bang her head against the wall. Maybe he should be paying for her hospital bill? Maybe she should sue him? Jerk.

  Loved and left? Well, she knew where he lived, and he wasn’t going to get away with it. See, she solved all her problems in one fell swoop. So, why didn’t she feel any better?

  Because she really needed to let Sebastian have it, that was why. Tell him how much he hurt her by his silent treatment.

  Leaving Simon in the safely fenced back yard, she marched over to his house. She didn’t see his car in the driveway but knocked on the door anyway.

  No answer so she went home, let Simon back in to happily chomp away on his breakfast, then grabbed his key and went back over, unlocked the door and let herself in. It still looked cold and sterile in here, but most of the boxes were gone, unpacked, she assumed. It had been over two weeks since she’d been here. Of course, he’d unpacked boxes in the interim. It wasn’t like he was all frozen and on hold while he was ignoring her. His life still went on. She knew that. He didn’t care.

  It broke her heart to think he could have made love to her the way he did last night, and then, just really not care. She knew many people were able to separate sex and real genuine feelings, but she was not one of them. To her it was a commitment, and a pledge of at least more feelings, more time together, serious emotions. To some it was fun and games. What was it to him? Since he’d left her with a very terse note, apparently, he’d be back at some point wanting more. For all his buttoned down and buttoned up exterior he was hell on wheels hot and knew just what to do in bed, but thought sex was just fun and games. Of course, he did. Tall, dark, handsome, rich and mysterious, she’d be stupid to think he was interested in her, a ball playing, junior high teacher. He had just been bored and decided to seduce the girl next door. She glared at the freckles on her nose in the bathroom mirror through her tear-filled eyes. She opened his medicine cabinet and left it open. That would drive his anal self crazy, she thought.

  That thought made her giggle, and she went to his bedroom and opened all those drawers too. She might have peeked in his underwear drawer, but she did not snoop she told herself self-righteously. Then, she went into the kitchen and opened all those cabinets, too. He would go insane when he saw it, and that thought made her laugh. She did snoop in the kitchen some, but didn’t disturb anything. He had a nice set up, quite a few fancy appliances and high-end, stainless steel cookware. She tried not to drool over it. He hadn’t let her in the kitchen while she’d stayed there, but had brought her food and it had been great. She’d assumed he’d ordered in, but maybe he cooked it? And here she’d brought him homemade blackberry sauce to go on bought ice cream. She blushed and got irritated at herself for feeling bad and opened his oven door, and his microwave just for good measure, too. She left the refrigerator door shut. She didn’t want to ruin anything, just get under his skin like he got under hers when he was nice and then left her.

  Yes, she was being childish, and she knew it. Did she care? Not really. She might feel bad at some point but right now, this felt good. She wasn’t damaging anything, but knew he’d be thinking about her when he went around and had to shut everything. Or he’d think he had a poltergeist. Wouldn’t it be amusing if the great Sebastian Jones believed in ghosts and got spooked? Somehow, she just didn’t think that was so, however.

  Carefully locking the door behind her, she went back to her house, and settled down on
her computer to browse her social media and see if she could find some cute kitten memes to take her mind off her cute, next-door neighbor. Kitten memes would never hurt you. Neither would lesson plans, she reminded herself, knowing there was only a month left before teacher break was over and she would be back in the classroom and getting ready for the new school year and the influx of students.

  She sat down, stopped once for a cheese sandwich, and then got back to work. She didn’t realize a few hours had passed until Simon begged to go out. “Me, too, buddy,” she told him. “Let me get my shoes and we’ll go for a walk.”

  Deliberately turning away from Sebastian’s house, she and Simon started off at a swift walk, but soon he had to stop and smell things and her feet slowed down while her mind raced. What had she been thinking? Opening his stuff like... a toddler. It was ridiculous. She needed to go back and fix things before he got home. What had she been thinking?

  She turned around and hurried back home with Simon, letting him trot to his favorite bed in the laundry room and walked over to Sebastian’s house. He still wasn’t home, and she let out a sigh of relief as she let herself into the house with her key. Methodically she shut everything in the kitchen and in the bathroom, and then went down the hall and did the same in his office. Finally, she got to the bedroom. Going into that bathroom, she shut the cabinets and drawers and came back out to do the bedroom, and, of course, he was standing there looking around his bedroom and at her. All his dresser drawers were open, and it sure looked bad, she thought. She had no clue what to even say to him. He, of course, said nothing, just stood there and looked at her.

  She put her hands on her hips, thinking fast and said, “I still can’t find the earrings I left here when I stayed. Do you have them?”

  “Your earrings,” he stated, looking around the room at all the open drawers.