1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Besides being handsome, Sebastian was a great listener and he made me laugh. I loved how open he’d been about his OCD, how honestly and self-deprecatingly he’d told me what it was like. My heart ached for him and how tough it must have been all those years before getting treatment, especially without the support of friends. And every time I thought about the beautiful, sad words he’d written about me, I got chills.

  He’d said he wasn’t easy to get to know, and I’d meant it when I said I was willing to try.

  Would he let me?

  While the primer dried, I decided to get started refinishing an old bookshelf I’d found in my parents’ attic. My mother helped me carry it out to the driveway, where I’d laid newspapers on the ground.

  She ran a hand over the top, which had several gouges. “Cripes, this thing’s pretty beat up. It was my grandfather’s. It’s called a lawyer’s bookcase.”

  “Really?” I said, my ears perking up at the word lawyer. “I’m going to take off the varnish and paint it white.”

  “That’ll be nice. He’d be pleased you’re going to use it.”

  “I won’t keep it. It's for a guest house.” I picked up the can of paint and varnish remover I’d purchased and began reading the directions on the back.

  “No, you should take it when you move out.”

  Was I imagining things, or did she emphasize the words move out? Was she dropping a hint? My eyes traveled over the words on the can but I didn’t process them.

  “Where are you thinking of going?” she went on breezily.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” I said, finally looking up. “I didn’t know I was being thrown out quite so soon.”

  “Honey, I’m not throwing you out.” Her tone was soothing but firm. “You know the guest houses are all rented come Memorial Weekend. That’s a week away.”

  “And?”

  “Well, don’t you think you should have a plan?”

  “I thought I could just move into the big house at that point. Just until I think of a plan.” I shook the can and pulled off the cap, hoping she’d leave me alone to work. When she didn’t, I began spraying.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother cross her arms. She was petite and curvy, like Natalie and me, albeit with a few extra rolls around the middle. Only Jillian got our dad’s long, lanky frame and dark eyes.

  “Are you going back to New York?”

  “I don’t know yet, Mom. I just said I don’t have a plan.” I tried not to sound as annoyed as I felt.

  “Well, do you have a deadline in mind? For having a plan, I mean?” she pressed.

  I stopped spraying and faced her. “Do I need one? If I’m not welcome at your house, just say it.”

  “Sky, don’t be silly. Of course you’re welcome. My children are always welcome. I’m only trying to help you think ahead. You don’t want to live with your parents forever.”

  I realized that she also meant I don’t want my adult daughter living at home with me forever. She and my dad were probably used to their privacy and routine by now. As if that wasn’t enough, she went on.

  “And what about a job? It’s nice you’re working with your sister, but is that really what you want to do, work at a coffee shop? If it is, that’s fine, but—”

  “I get it, Mom.” I turned back to the bookcase. “I’ll come up with a plan.”

  “Okay. Dinner at six thirty, don’t forget. I’m making fried chicken,” she said proudly. “Nat, Dan, and Jilly are coming too.” She patted my shoulder and headed back into the house.

  Great. Another family function where we can all compare the Nixon sisters. Which one of these is not like the others?

  Usually I looked forward to family dinners, but my mother’s words had cut deep. For the past couple weeks, I’d done a pretty good job avoiding the hard questions, but clearly I couldn’t go on like this forever. If only I had some kind of calling, like Jillian’s to be a doctor, or a dream that was achievable with hard work and dedication, like Natalie’s shop.

  As I scraped off the old varnish, I tried to think of jobs I’d enjoy going to every day, something I could get excited about, something that would make me happy. My mother was right in that coffee shop employee wasn’t really on the list. And as much as I loved the farm, agriculture wasn’t really my thing either. I’d enjoyed the job at Rivard, but there was no way I’d get that position back. I was too ashamed to even ask for it. But maybe something like that…something fun, something that allowed me to work with people, something that allowed for creativity and spontaneity.

  Christ. That is the vaguest fucking job description ever. You suck.

  I did. I did suck.

  By the time I’d taken off the varnish, eaten a quick lunch, and plugged my dad’s sander into the extension cord I’d run from the house, I was convinced I’d never be happy and I should just face the fact that I was a twenty-seven year old loser with a pretty face and not much else.

  And even that wasn’t going to last forever. Thirty was around the corner, and then forty, and then fifty, and then sixty…decades of wrinkling and sagging. But would there even be anyone who cared? My romantic history was as crappy as my job history—I wasn’t even sure I’d ever been in love.

  I was still brooding about it when Sebastian’s truck pulled into the driveway an hour later. Immediately my mood improved.

  “Hey,” I said, telling myself to walk, not run, toward him as he got out. “What are you doing here?”

  He shut the truck door and leaned back against it, hands in his pockets. The sunglasses on his face hid his eyes, but he was smiling. “I came to see you.”

  My insides danced a little. “How’d you find me?”

  “I went to the shop. Your sister told me it was your day off and said you might be here.” He glanced over to where I’d been working. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all. I need a distraction, actually.” The kind that happens without pants.

  “Want to show me what you’re working on?”

  “Sure.” Trying to keep my thoughts clean, I led him over to the bookcase and explained what I was doing. “It was my grandfather’s bookcase.”

  “Even better. You have a connection to it.”

  “Yes.” I clasped my hands together and rocked back on my heels. “What are you up to today?”

  He shrugged, dropping his eyes to the ground a moment. “I had to go into town for a few things, but it’s such a nice day, I thought maybe I’d put together those chairs I bought last night and sit on the patio this afternoon.”

  “Sounds nice. It is beautiful today, supposed to hit seventy-five.” Invite me. Invite me. Invite me.

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand over his short hair. “You mentioned wanting to see the cabin. I thought maybe—”

  “I’d love to! Just give me one minute, okay?” Turning around, I went to unplug the sander when I panicked. I faced him again, my lower lip caught between my teeth. “Wait. You were going to ask me to come over, right?”

  He laughed, his face lighting up. He looked so different when he smiled! “Yes. I was. You saved me the trouble.”

  “Whew. Okay, good.” I put away the tools, and Sebastian helped me move the bookcase into the guest house, where I snuck away to quickly run a brush through my hair and rinse with mouthwash.

  Not that I was planning on attackissing him again. But maybe he’d take the lead—I’d just do my best to let him know I was interested without being too forward.

  “I like your house,” he said when I came out of the bathroom.

  “Thanks. It’s my parents’ house, technically, but I’m living here for the time being.” Recalling the conversation with my mother, I frowned.

  “You don’t like living in it?”

  “No, it’s not that. I just don’t…you know what?” I sighed, shaking my head. “Let’s not talk about it.”

  His mouth fell open. “You don’t want to talk about something?”

  I slapped him lightly on the arm. “Haha
. No, I don’t. So let’s go, I’m dying to see your place.”

  “Yours is much fancier,” he said as we walked outside. “Mine’s going to look very bare to your eye.”

  I’d like your ass bare to my eye, I thought as I followed him to his truck. “Hey, do you want me to drive myself? That way you won’t have to bring me back.”

  He opened the passenger door for me. “I don’t mind bringing you back.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” I climbed into the truck, feeling his hand brush my lower back. My entire body jittered with excitement, and I felt like a kid who just learned school is canceled for the day. There was some kind of new current between us—I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly, but I thought it had to do with him…he was so much more relaxed than he’d been at the end of the date last night. Did this mean he was up for seeing where this might go?

  I told him to take the long, winding drive around the orchard before heading back out on to the highway, and I pointed out all my favorite spots on the farm—the best trees to climb, my favorite shady spot for reading, the perfect hiding places for hide and seek or ducking chores.

  “You must have missed all this when you moved away,” he said, turning onto the main road. “Sounds like you really love it.”

  “Yeah, I do. And I did miss it.”

  “Think you’ll stay here for good?”

  “Probably,” I said, staring out the window at the familiar landscape—the rolling hills, the orchards and vineyards, the old red barns with their peeling paint, the new faux chateaux of stone and brick. “What about you?”

  “I’m staying. At least, that’s the plan for now.”

  I asked him if he’d liked living in New York, and we both agreed it was great in some ways and difficult in others. He confided that the pace of big city life and the demands of his job probably contributed to his relapse. “I like the outdoors a lot,” he said wistfully. “Hiking, fishing, camping. And I didn’t get the chance to do those kinds of things very often. Plus my ex-girlfriend wasn’t into them.”

  I was surprised he mentioned her. “A city girl, huh?” I questioned, totally curious.

  “Yes. All the way.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him rub one finger along the stubble beneath his lower lip. After a moment, he went on. “Actually she was my fiancée.”

  I risked a sideways look at him. “Wow. It was pretty serious then, huh?

  “Felt like it. For a while.”

  “What happened?”

  He shrugged, his jaw stiffening. “I fucked up.”

  “How so?” I prodded. “Sorry, I’m being nosy. You don’t have to answer that.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I hoped he wasn’t mad. For fuck’s sake, Skylar, he just told you last night he didn’t want to talk about it. But then he spoke up.

  “I told her I wasn’t sure she was the one.”

  “Ouch.” But I stifled a smile. Why did I feel so pleased about that?

  “Actually, I said I wasn’t even sure I believed in the idea of the one, but even if I did, I wasn’t sure it was her.”

  “Wow. And the ring was on her finger at this point?”

  “Yeah. All two point five carats. Which she picked out and which I hated.”

  “Why?”

  “Because two point five is an annoying number. It seems like it should be even but it has a five in it.”

  I blinked at him.

  He glanced sideways at me. “I’m kidding, sort of. Like I said last night, I’m just not an easy person to be with. Sometimes I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did.”

  “Because of the OCD, you mean?”

  “Yeah.” His tone had gone darker. “Or maybe I’m just bad at relationships. I’ve been told I don’t communicate well. Also that I’m stubborn, unpredictable, and a real dick when I want to be.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s quite a list. And she still said yes when you proposed, huh?” Feeling this moment could use some levity, I leaned over and gave his leg a smack. “You must be dynamite in the sack.”

  He grinned, his shoulders relaxing. “That list wasn’t all from her,” he said, turning onto a gravel drive that led through the woods. “But come to think of it, I’ve never had any complaints about my sexual prowess.”

  “Good to know.” I wanted to keep flirting, but just then the cabin appeared through a clearing, and I gasped. “Sebastian, it’s beautiful!”

  “Thanks.” He parked on a gravel drive that looped in front of the house, and I got out of the truck and shut the door behind me. It was so quiet, all I heard were birds and the breeze rustling the leaves on the birch trees. I turned in a slow circle. The setting was gorgeous, but it was so remote—wasn’t he lonely all the way out here by himself?

  “Ooh!” I squealed. “Look at your cute front porch!” Two wooden rocking chairs sat facing the woods. Two, I thought. Was he eventually thinking he’d share the place with someone? Or did he really just hate the odd number one?

  “Yeah, I like to sit out there in the morning, watch the sun rise while I have coffee.” He went up the steps and unlocked the front door.

  “Sunrise?” I winced, following him inside. “I’m more of a sunset sort of girl. The sun rises too early for me.”

  He laughed. “Then you’ll like the patio in the back. You could watch the sun set over the bay.”

  “Perfect. Show me.”

  He took me through the cabin first, apologizing for its lack of furniture and decoration. True, it was a bit sparse, but it had a rustic, masculine beauty about it that just needed a little touch of feminine texture and color. I loved everything he’d done so far, from the floors to the counters to the bathroom tile, and it smelled amazing in there—like lemon and cedar. He probably cleaned it constantly because of his OCD. Was it wrong that it sort of turned me on?

  “You’ve done a great job, Sebastian. You should be really proud. What’s up there?” I gestured to the ladder leaning on the wall between the kitchen and bath. “Bedroom?”

  “Just a loft. But it’s nice. You’ve got to watch your head up there because of the sloping walls—well, I do,” he teased, looking down at me, “but one of them is almost all glass.”

  “Like to give the birds a good view?” I poked him on the chest.

  “Ha. Yeah.”

  I started to climb, looking over my shoulder. “Mind if I go up?”

  Chapter 13

  Sebastian

  Good fucking god.

  She was climbing the ladder to my bedroom and her ass was right in front of my face. My cock began to stiffen.

  Sweet Jesus, could I please go ten minutes without getting an erection around her?

  I’d woken up this morning (hard) thinking of her, and even though I’d told myself a million times not to go looking for her today, I hadn’t been able to resist. I just want to be around her, I told the doomsayer in me before he could go on the offensive. I won’t touch her. I just like seeing her smile, hearing her chattering bird voice, making her laugh.

  “Go ahead,” I told her. “I’ll wait down here.”

  She looked down at me, making my heart beat faster. “You can come up too, silly. I don’t think you’re going to try anything.”

  Oh no? You should feel my dick right now. “It’s pretty small up there.”

  “It’s not small, it’s cozy,” she said, reaching the top. “Get up here.” She moved deeper into the loft so I couldn’t see her anymore, and I quickly adjusted myself before climbing up after her.

  When I reached the top, she was standing in front of the huge, sloping window opposite my bed. “You have a family of cardinals,” she said.

  “I know. They’re noisy in the morning.” I stood next to her and looked out. Goddamn it, I could smell her. Mostly it was the varnish remover she’d been using, but there was a hint of something sweet and floral beneath it—I fucking loved that she was girlish and feminine but not afraid to work with her hands.

  “I thought you were u
p before the sun, mister coffee-on-the-porch-before-dawn.” She poked me in the ribs, sending a jolt through my veins that seemed to go straight to my cock, and that part of my anatomy didn’t need any more encouragement right now. I moved away from her a little, and she giggled. “What, are you ticklish? Huh? Huh?” She started poking me over and over again, in the ribs, on my stomach, on my chest.

  “Goddamit, Skylar, knock it off.” I tried to back away but she followed me, poking at me everywhere. “Quit touching me.”

  “I know, I’m too handsy.” She stopped and held up her palms toward me. “But they’re clean, I swear.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” I snapped. I knew she’d been joking but her comment was a good reminder that girls like her didn’t belong with creeps like me. I didn’t need the voice to tell me that.

  “Okay, okay. Relax.” She dropped her hands to her sides, the light leaving her eyes. “Sorry. I was just playing with you. Friends do that, you know.”

  “I know what friends do,” I said angrily. “I have had friends before, Skylar, I’m not a total fucking loser.” But my tone was anything but friendly, and I hated myself for it. It wasn’t her I was mad at.

  Shaking her head, she backed away from me. “Jeez, you can be an asshole out of nowhere.”

  “I’ll add that to the list.” Now I was a sarcastic, sneering asshole. Fucking hell.

  She climbed down the ladder without looking at me.

  I let her go, sinking onto my bed. Knees splayed, I propped my elbows on my legs and took my head in my hands. Fuck. I was an asshole out of nowhere. But she didn’t understand what it felt like to want someone so badly and be terrified to touch her.

  I heard the front door open and close and thought I wouldn’t blame her if she took off in the truck. Dragging my feet, I climbed down the ladder and went to find her.

  She wasn’t on the porch or in the truck, and I stood still for a second, rubbing my face with my hands, weighed down by guilt and regret. Where had she gone? Had it been the back door I heard? I walked around the side of the cabin and looked around. She wasn’t on the patio or back steps, and I didn’t see her on the dock either. Frowning, I turned and looked back at the driveway, which snaked through the woods. I hoped she hadn’t taken off on foot. I was just about to get in the truck and go find her when I heard her voice.