Corbin's Bend Homecoming

by Ruth Staunton

  He wasn’t going to hurt Jonathon or Norah either. This was okay.

  “You’re right,” he said. He took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Try again?”

  “Sure,” Jonathon agreed easily, climbing back over Caine’s lap.

  He took a deep breath, settled his arm across Jonathon’s lower back, and raised his hand high, bringing it down with considerably more force than he had previously. This time it landed with a resounding crack. Caine tensed, but Jonathon didn’t so much as move.

  “Better,” Ben commented, “but you’re still not quite there yet. You’re still nervous. You need to settle down and find your rhythm. Keep trying.”

  He swallowed hard and tried again. This time, he landed several swats in quick succession, layering them all one atop the other.

  “Ow!” Jonathon yelped.

  Caine froze.

  “Did he safeword?” Benjamin asked pointedly.

  Caine shook his head.

  “Then keep going. He needs to be able to wiggle and cry out and complain without you stopping. It’s part of the release.”

  Caine realized with a sudden bolt of insight just why the one time he had tried spanking Norah didn’t work. He’d been so nervous he hadn’t been able to keep going. He had stopped before she’d gotten what she needed. He had shortchanged her.

  With that in mind, he kept going, laying down spanks over and over again until Jonathon was squirming uncontrollably. He paused, glancing over at Ben. Ben simply nodded, encouraging him to go on. Caine dropped his hand lower, shifting a bit to get a better angle, and started again. Suddenly, something changed. The swats got smoother and easier, like finding a good balance with a hammer.

  “There you go,” Ben said. “Now you’ve found your rhythm.” He watched them a moment longer, letting Caine lay down perhaps five more swats before he said, “Okay, I think that’s enough for today.”

  Caine stilled immediately, instinctively beginning to rub soothing circles with the hand that had been draped over Jonathon’s back. He stopped when Jonathon started to shift, sitting up again. “Are you okay?” Caine asked him.

  “Absolutely, it stings now, but in a few minutes, I won’t even feel it. That was hardly more than a warm up. You have not hurt me.”

  Caine snorted disbelievingly. “You’re in better shape than me then. My hand hurts.”

  “And now you know why we use implements,” Benjamin told him, grinning. “It’s easier on the hand.” Ben opened his arms and Jonathon immediately moved into them, curling up into his lap.

  Implements were still a touchy subject for Caine. After today, he understood Benjamin’s point, but they still made him nervous. Even so, Ben had insisted he experiment with them at least enough to get familiar with them. Belts were, obviously, out of the question, but he had tried other ones on the dummy: the Corbin’s Bend Paddle, a ruler (his ruler to be exact, the heavy wooden one he used for work), a hairbrush, a wooden spatula. To tell the truth, he hadn't been particularly comfortable with any of them.

  He hadn’t told anyone yet, not even Benjamin, but he’d built his own—a small, lightweight paddle that was sturdy enough not to break but was thin and broad enough to spread out impact and minimize the chance of bruising. If he ever used an implement, it would be that one. He’d made it was his own hands. He knew the wood intimately so much so that he had even whacked it against his own thigh to test it. It wasn’t a heavy impact, but it stung.

  “What about you?” Benjamin asked, drawing him out of his thoughts. “How are you feeling about all this?”

  Caine grinned wryly. “I managed an actual spanking without having a panic attack.” The first time they had tried practicing with Jonathon, he’d broken down in complete panic after the first swat.

  “Yes, you did,” Ben acknowledged. “You’re doing well.”

  “It was a real spanking too,” Jonathon confirmed. “Not the hardest one I’ve ever had by any means, but I felt it. It wasn’t just a joke.”

  Bizarrely, Caine felt an odd sense of accomplishment at that. It was the one thing Norah needed that he hadn’t been able to give her. Now he could. If she would still have him.

  “So, do you feel like you’re ready to talk to Norah?” Benjamin wanted to know.

  Was he? He had actually already spoken to her once, but had purposely avoided talking about them or their relationship. It hadn’t been the time or the place.

  He’d gone to the grand opening celebration for her bookstore several weeks ago, just after Thanksgiving. As he had known it would be, the grand opening was a rousing success. The bookstore had been packed, and she seemed to have been doing a brisk business. There had been a steady line of people at the checkout counter, mostly women carrying stacks of paperbacks who were often also leading children clutching bright picture books with jaunty balloons tied to their wrists.

  He’d picked up a book of house plans, more because he wanted to contribute to her success than because he actually needed them, and slipped into the back of the line. Her eyes had gone wide when she’d seen him. For a moment, she’d seemed to stutter to a halt. He couldn’t blame her. His own heart was about to beat out of his chest.

  “It looks like it’s going well,” he’d said quietly.

  “Yes, it is,” she’d replied, soft and hesitant.

  “I’m glad,” he had told her, “but I’m not surprised. I knew you were going to do great.”

  She had blushed, dropping her eyes. “Thank you.”

  There was so much more he had wanted to say. She’d looked nervous and exhausted. He’d wanted to send her upstairs and tuck her into bed. Instead, he settled for saying, “Take care of yourself” as he paid for his book.

  “You too,” she’d said, and unless he was mistaken, she’d lingered a bit longer than necessary when she’d handed him his change and his book. It had only been the briefest of seconds and then she’d turned away, already moving on to the next customer. He’d left then, but it had given him hope. Whatever their problems, the feelings between them were still there, and maybe, just maybe, he could be the man she needed after all.

  “Maybe,” he said finally, turning back to Ben. He hesitated, looking back and forth between Jonathon and Benjamin.

  “What is it?” Benjamin asked bluntly.

  He should have known. Benjamin had never been one to mince words.

  “There’s just one more thing...” Caine trailed off, losing the nerve to continue.

  “Which is?” Benjamin prompted. Jonathon hadn’t spoken, but he too was waiting with interest.

  “I made a paddle,” he admitted, a little uncomfortably.

  Benjamin seemed surprised, but Jonathon’s eyes lit with interest. “Cool! Would you show us some time?”

  “I can show it to you now if you want,” he told Jonathon. “It’s in my truck.”

  “Well go get it then,” Jonathon said, shooing him toward the door.

  “You really want to see it?” Caine asked.

  “Caine, who do you think packs the paddles into all the welcome baskets? Of course I want to see it. Go!”

  Chuckling, Caine retrieved the paddle from where he’d hidden it behind the seat of his truck, bringing it inside and dropping it into Jonathon’s lap.

  Benjamin reached around Jonathon, who was still settled in his lap, and picked it up. “This is nice,” he said, looking it over appraisingly. “Perfect for a beginner.”

  “That’s what I had in mind,” Caine replied. “I was thinking about maybe trying it out before I used it for real.” He glanced apprehensively at Jonathon. “If you don’t mind, that is. It doesn’t have to be today.”

  “Actually,” Benjamin broke in before Jonathon could reply. “Today might be better. It’s best to do a warm-up with your hand if you’re using something like a paddle, and you’ve already done that earlier.”

  He glanced down at Jonathon. “What do you think, babe?”

  Caine bit his lip. “It’s fine if you want to wait.
I don’t want to—”

  Jonathon threw up a hand, cutting him off. “Don’t even say it. You’re not hurting me.” He paused for a moment, considering and then shrugged, “Sure, why not? How do you want to do this?”

  Caine looked to Benjamin, but Benjamin shrugged. “It’s your call. You decide how you think it will work best.”

  He studied the room, thinking about it. “Maybe over the arm of the sofa.”

  Jonathon unfolded himself from Benjamin’s lap and padded over to bend over the arm of the sofa.

  Caine followed, lining up carefully behind him and taking aim. The first swat landed with a dull pop. Cain knew immediately it was too soft. He took a firm grip on the handle of the paddle and tried again. This time it rang like a gunshot and Jonathon let out a surprised yelp. He paused and nearly stopped until he remembered what Ben had said earlier about safe words. Instead, he did it again, trying to match the same amount of force. He did it twice more. Jonathon was squirming by the end and making little noises, but neither he nor Benjamin made any move to stop him so Caine swung one more time.

  “Red!” Jonathon yelped.

  Caine stilled immediately. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  Jonathon shook his head, levering carefully to his feet. “No, I’m not hurt, but it was beginning to feel real. I don’t need to go there when I’m practicing with other people.” Benjamin got to his feet and crossed the room in an instant, pulling Jonathon into his chest and wrapping his arms around him. Neither moved for a long while. Eventually, Jonathon took a deep breath and turned back, eyeing the paddle Caine was holding by his side. “That thing packs a punch. It’s not heavy. It doesn’t thud. It just stings, and it’s so wide you’re covering a lot of area with every swat which means nearly every time it lands on already spanked skin.”

  “I think it’s safe to say you can now deliver a real spanking,” Benjamin said dryly. “You’ll be fine.”

  Now he just had to hope Norah felt the same.

  Norah had just settled down on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book when a sharp knock came on her front door. Her head jerked up, startled. She wasn’t expecting anyone and why were they knocking on her apartment door? Normally, anyone who came by outside of business hours had to ring the downstairs doorbell for her to come let them in. She set down her e-reader and crept cautiously to the door.

  Making her way across the room, it dawned on her that there were a limited number of people who would have the keys necessary to open the bookstore door and get to her apartment, and all of them lived in the community. It was probably Brent. Since the store opened, he’d been checking in with her periodically to see how things were going. He usually came by during business hours but maybe he was just running late tonight. She opened the door, fully expecting to see Brent standing in her small foyer.

  Nothing could’ve prepared her for the sight of Caine standing outside her door, one hand braced against the wall.

  “We need to talk,” he said before she could find the words to speak.

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted.

  “I told you. We need to talk.” He stepped inside without waiting for her to invite him, forcing her to take several steps back.

  “How did you get up here?” she asked. Of all the things that were swirling through her mind, why was the only thing she could get out of her mouth the most inane thing possible. She half expected him to make some sort of sarcastic remark like saying, “the stairs” or something equally obvious, but he answered the question she was trying to ask.

  “Jonathon loaned me his key,” Caine explained, holding out a single key on a plain orange keychain labeled with her house number. She recognized it as being from a set of master keys they kept in the office for emergencies. Brent and Jonathon had blanket permission to use them in case of emergency.

  “I hardly think this counts as an emergency,” she said acidly.

  “Trust me, sweetheart,” Caine countered. “You don’t want to have the conversation we need to have in public. Jonathon was trying to do us a favor.”

  “You couldn’t have just asked?” she snapped. “It’s not like I’ve ever refused to talk to you.”

  Caine at least had the grace to look abashed. “I couldn’t take a chance that now would be the first time. This is too important.”

  It had to be important for Jonathon to have loaned him a key. That wasn’t something Jonathon would have done lightly. He was scrupulous about privacy and confidentiality. He had to be, given the things that crossed his desk on a daily basis.

  “Just what could be so important?” Norah asked.

  Caine closed the door behind him. It seemed odd that Maverick wasn’t tagging at his heels. Norah found herself disappointed at his absence. She’d missed that goofy dog. She’d missed Caine too, desperately, bitingly so, but she couldn’t let herself think about that. If she did, she’d likely end up clinging to him like an anxious child and begging him not to go. Even now, the heat of his body close to her and the scent of him, that blend of coffee, sawdust, and underlying maleness that was uniquely Caine, pulled at her, threatening to shatter the meager protective walls she had managed to build up.

  “Us,” Caine replied. “We need to talk about us.” Without waiting to be invited, he crossed into her living room, shedding his heavy coat as he went and depositing it over the back of the sofa before taking a seat.

  Norah had a brief passing thought of simply refusing to engage in conversation. What would he do then? She wouldn’t put it past him to move her bodily into the living room with him, and part of her was tempted to make him do it. Another part of her was fighting against the urge to simply go curl up beside him as she had done so many times before. Her body wanted it, even if her mind knew it was a bad idea.

  She sighed and settled herself in the armchair instead. “There is no us, Caine. Not anymore. We tried. We had a good run, but it just didn’t work. I need more than you can give. You have good reasons for your limits, and I respect them, but I need more. I care about you, but it’s not fair to either of us to keep beating a dead horse.”

  She cared about him. Ha. Who was she kidding? She loved him, and she probably always would. He was destined to haunt her forever as the one she wanted but could never have. She had resigned herself to that over the past few weeks, but there was no reason for him to know how foolishly lovesick she was.

  “But what if the horse wasn’t dead,” Caine countered. “What if it didn’t have to be?”

  “You’ve tried, Caine. I know you have, and God knows I respect you for it,” Norah told him, “but there comes a time when you just have to admit defeat.”

  “And if I’m not prepared to do that?” he asked.

  Tears stung at her eyes. She closed them briefly and tried to swallow them down. Why did he have to make this so hard? Why did he have to come bringing this back up now? He had walked away. It was over. Maybe she hadn’t exactly moved on, but she had at least resigned herself to her fate. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone?

  “Caine, please,” she said finally, forcing the words out through a throat that fought the urge to give in to the tears. “Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You know the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  Yes, she did, and wasn’t that ironic. He was so afraid of hurting her physically, but by not being able to give her the kind of discipline she needed, he’d actually hurt her more than she could ever remember hurting since John died. Even now, the ache was as real as any injury she had ever had.

  “Just answer one question,” he went on, “and if the answer is no, I’ll never bother you again. If I could give you the kind of relationship you need with everything that entails, would you still want to be together?”

  What the hell kind of question was that? “Of course I would. I love you.” The moment the words were out Norah wished she could bring them back. She’d actually reached out as though she could dr
aw the words back in, but of course there was no turning back. Instead, she clasped her hand over her mouth and prayed that the floor would swallow her up.

  Caine’s eyes widened. “You mean that?”

  She thought about denying it but it was out there now. There was no point. Anything less than the truth would be a feeble excuse he would see right through. She nodded.

  “So do I,” he told her, “and I’ve spent the last few weeks working on becoming the kind of man you need. Ben insisted I see a counselor. I’ve been meeting with him and trying to deal with all the crap Ruben left me. I’ve also been taking lessons with Ben.”

  “Lessons?” Norah felt like a dozen ping-pong balls were careening off the inside of her brain. He loved her too? He hadn’t said the words, but that was what so do I meant, right? And he’d been going to counseling. That was a big step. And he seemed to be implying he was doing it for her. That wasn’t just big. That was gigantic.

  Caine ducked his head, shifting in his seat. “He’s been teaching me how to spank safely.”

  Norah stared at him, hardly believing her ears. “You’re serious?”

  Rather than replying, Caine reached into his jacket and pulled out a small piece of wood, laying it on the coffee table. To Norah’s utter shock, it was a paddle.

  “That’s mine,” Caine said. “I made it for us.”

  “And you can use it?” she blurted. This whole conversation had suddenly become completely overwhelming. Caine had never even considered spanking before. He hadn’t even really been willing to talk about it much, and now he had made them paddle.

  “I can,” he confirmed. “In fact, Jonathon seemed to be of the opinion I can use it pretty effectively.”