Some Sort of Happy (Skylar and Sebastian): A Happy Crazy Love Novel (15 page)

I woke up leisurely, completely comfortable. Next to me, Sebastian’s breathing was slow and steady, so I figured he’d fallen asleep too. There was something so nice about falling asleep next to someone you liked—it was intimate without being sexual, which was exactly what we needed.

Well, it’s what
he
needed. I was up for letting things get sexy right here in this hammock. My insides warmed when I thought of the way he’d said he wanted to let me in, and they went molten when I recalled him saying he’d thought about fucking me all night. He could go from one extreme to the other so quickly. What would he be like as a lover? Sweet and tender? Rough and demanding?

And that body. My God.

My belly flipped as I let my eyes sweep over his abs and crotch and legs, and heat tingled between my thighs.
I could stretch and brush my hand right there…

Stop it. You just agreed to give him time, and it’s probably been about twenty minutes.

Right. He probably meant more time than that.

Just then his hand twitched on my leg, and his breathing altered. “Mmm. Did I fall asleep?”

“Yes. But I don’t blame you. It’s so quiet and peaceful here, I fell asleep too. In fact, I could go back to sleep.” I closed my eyes, not wanting him to move yet. He trailed one finger up my thigh, sending gooseflesh rippling across my skin. God, I wanted his hands on me so badly. How long would I have to wait?

He patted my knee and got up. “I’m going to put those chairs together.”

Sighing, I watched him walk over to the two big boxes on the patio. Then I stretched out on my side in the hammock, tucking my hands beneath my face. Guess I’d have to wait a little longer, although I could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than watching Sebastian perform manual labor outside in the heat, arm muscles flexing. I was dreamily watching him finish up the first chair when he asked if I was awake.

“Yes, just enjoying the view.”

He flashed a quick grin at me as he set the drill aside. “You said something last night I’m curious about.”

“What was it?”

“You mentioned how the voice in your head tells you you’re a failure.”

“Oh, that.” I frowned. “Yeah, it does. All the time.”

He started working on the second chair. “Why?”

Between short bursts of noise from the drill, I opened up about how I felt kind of lost at this point in my life, about how ashamed I was that I’d failed to make it as an actress, and about how my sisters’ success only served to make me feel worse. “I feel horrible saying that,” I admitted. “I’m so proud of them and I’m happy they’re so good at what they do. It’s not like I begrudge them their success. I just feel bad about my lack of it.”

“But if Natalie’s business hadn’t done well, would you have called
her
a failure?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, then?”

I frowned. “That’s different. That was a business. My failure feels more personal. And yet it was totally public. Add to that I got fired from the only job I’ve ever really liked and the fact that my mother told me to get a fucking life this morning!” Frustration tightened my throat, and I willed myself not to cry and spoil this nice afternoon.

“Your mother said that to you?” Sebastian stood up and looked at me with concern.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears. “She didn’t say it like that. She just pressured me about getting a real job. She knows working for Natalie is only a short-term thing. But I’m not good enough at anything to make finding a new job easy, and I have no college degree and nothing interesting or unique to put on a resume.”

“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “You could be good at anything. You just have to decide what you want.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” I blustered, sitting up swiftly and nearly toppling backward out of the hammock. “I feel like I’ve been impersonating some version of myself for so long, I don’t even know who I am anymore!” To my dismay, I burst into tears, and I was so embarrassed I jumped out of the hammock and ran down toward the dock, where I put my face into my hands and sobbed.

I heard footsteps behind me, and then felt Sebastian’s hand on my shoulder as he turned me into his arms. “Hey, you. Come here.”

His chest was warm and solid, and I collapsed against him, crying into my palms. He rubbed my back and trembling shoulders, shushing me gently.

“Here I thought it was
my
anxiety I’d struggle with today,” he said after a few minutes. “But you’re a mess.”

I half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Thanks.”

“How much of this is because of that stupid reunion on Saturday?”

“I don’t know. Some of it, I guess.” I took a few hitching breaths, trying to calm down.

“You should blow it off. I think it’s making you feel worse.”

“I know it is. But I have to go. I said I’d help with decorations.” I looked up at him with tearful eyes. “Would you come with me? Please? Just as friends,” I said quickly. “I won’t try anything.”

He smiled but shook his head. “I really can’t, Skylar. It would serve no purpose and just dredge up painful memories. Nothing about high school was good for me.”

Nodding sadly, I wiped my eyes and sniffed. “I understand.”

“Need a tissue?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on. Let’s go find some in the house, and then after I finish the chairs, we’ll go do something fun. How does that sound?”

“Good.” I sniffed again, wondering what his idea of fun was. Algebra? Sudoku? “What’ll we do?”

“I don’t know. Want to go buy a canoe?

I couldn’t help smiling a little, it was so random. “A canoe?”

“Yeah, I’ve been wanting one. Or maybe a rowboat. You can help me decide.”

“All right.”

“Then we’ll bring it back here and take it out on the water if it’s calm enough. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

“Can you paddle a canoe?”

I nodded. “I’m good at it, actually.”

He elbowed me as we walked toward the cabin. “And you said you’ve got nothing for your resume.”

I laughed, my spirits lifting.

• • •

We compared prices of canoes and rowboats at the sporting goods store, but Sebastian seemed less worried about price than he was about buying the perfect boat. He ended up buying a beautiful wooden rowboat plus some oars and an anchor, and the total cost was so high it made me wonder where his money came from. He’d said he worked part-time for his dad, but was that enough to live on, build and furnish that cabin,
and
have money for luxuries like a boat? Once everything was loaded in the truck and we were on our way back to the cabin, I had to ask.

“So this might be none of my business, and you can tell me to piss off, but without a full-time job, how do you live?” I asked, sucking on the honey stick he’d bought me at the counter. I never could resist those things.

“I have some investment income.” He ran a hand over the scruff on his jaw before going on. “My mother’s family had money. Old money. My father had no interest in it, so after she died, he and her parents set aside an inheritance for each of her children. I used some for law school and some to rebuild the cabin, but the rest is invested. I don’t like to touch it, but I
have
used some of the interest to live on over the last year.”

“Oh.” I wondered if his mother’s death was too painful to talk about. “Were you close to your mom?”

He nodded before taking a deep breath. “I was only eight when she died. As painful as the last year of my life has been, it doesn’t come close to that loss. Nothing ever will.” His voice broke a little, and my heart did too.

“It’s a good thing we’re driving because I really want to hug you right now and I can’t.”

He gave me a threatening look. “You stay in that seatbelt.”

I winked at him. “For now.”

We drove in silence for a few minutes, and when we passed Chateau Rivard I couldn’t resist flipping Miranda Rivard the bird again, even though she couldn’t see it. Sebastian laughed.

“Sorry,” I said, although I wasn’t really.

“That’s OK. I did a lot worse after I got fired.”

“The worst thing was that I actually liked that job. Doing tastings, giving tours of the chateau and vineyard, talking to people about the wines and the area. I had some ideas for the place too.”

He glanced at me. “What kind of ideas?”

“Design ideas. I wanted to modernize the place a little, but there was resistance, and I wasn’t there long enough to convince them.”

“Maybe you’d like something in marketing or PR, then.”

“Maybe.” A little hope bubbled up inside of me, although marketing and PR sounded like something I’d need a degree for. “But I don’t have any real experience or skills. I just know what looks nice. Or at least what I think looks nice.”

“Skylar, anyone who meets you knows you have good taste. I think you’d be great at a job like that. You just need to market yourself confidently and find the right one.”

Pleasure swelled inside me at his compliments, at his confidence in me. I wished I had it in myself. “Thanks. I’ll give it some thought.”

When we reached the cabin, we hauled the boat down to the dock and put it in the water. It was late afternoon but the sun was still high in the sky, and air was hot and still, just a slight breeze off the bay. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my arm while Sebastian tied the boat to the dock.

“I wish I’d have grabbed my bathing suit. The water looks good.”

He looked up at me with a doubtful smile. “You’d swim? It’s a warm day, but the water’s still pretty cold.”

I lifted my chin. “I’m a brave little toaster. Hey, do you have any sunscreen?”

He straightened up. “Yes. Bathroom drawer on the bottom right.”

“Thanks.” Inside, I fought the urge to rifle through Sebastian’s entire bathroom cabinet to learn more about him. I opened only the bottom right drawer, which was very neat and contained sunscreen, shaving cream, razors, and bar soap. Using the mirror over the sink, I applied some SPF 30 to my face, arms, and legs, and brought it outside with me to offer some to Sebastian.

Oh fuck. He took off his shirt.

My belly backhandspringed repeatedly as I approached the dock, where he was loading the paddles into the boat. Natalie hadn’t exaggerated; Sebastian
was
ripped. He was tall and slender, so it wasn’t an obnoxious sort of ripped, but the curves and lines on his body made my breath come faster. His skin was as beautiful as his bone structure—golden and smooth.

“Want some of this?” I asked, holding up the sunscreen.
Or some of this?
I thought, refraining from patting my ass.

“Nah. I don’t mind the sun.”

“Sebastian! You have great skin. You should be nicer to it. Here, let me.” Hahaha, fucking genius! Hiding a smile, I flipped the lid and squirted some into my hand. “Turn around.”

He sighed, but did as I requested, and I put my hands on his upper back. Biting my lip, I slowly rubbed the sunscreen into his skin, sliding my palms across his broad shoulders and along the back of his neck. I stayed well away from the waistband of his faded red shorts, but I did notice his blue plaid boxers peeking out above it. My stomach contracted.

“OK. Front.”

Slowly, he turned to face me, and I swear I was just going to offer him the tube to do it himself, but the combination of his face and those glasses and the stubbled jaw and the sculpted chest and the abs—THE ABS—overpowered me. I nearly moaned aloud, imagining how those muscles would flex as he moved above me.

Gahhhhhh, don’t touch him, Skylar. He doesn’t want it.

But…but
abs
.

Right. If he said no, he said no.

“Want me to do it?” I asked brightly.

He hesitated. “OK.”

FAHK.

Trying to control my racing pulse, I squirted some more sunscreen into my palms and rubbed them together. Then I put them on his chest.

And left them there.

Awestruck, I stared at my hands on his sun-warmed chest. Bits and pieces of me tightened and tingled.

“I think you’re supposed to rub it in.” His tone was amused.

Honey, I’ll rub anything you want me to.

Slowly I began to move my hands in lazy circles on his pectacular chest. When it was absorbed, I slid my hands lower without bothering to put more sunscreen on them. The hard ridges of his abdominal muscles rippled beneath my fingers, and I slid them back and forth along the furrows.

Yes. I fingered his furrows.

“Wow.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed. “You must do a lot of crunches.”

He chuckled, and the muscles twitched beneath my palms, shooting pure lust through my veins.

Oh, God. If it was any other guy, I’d have slipped a hand between his legs right then and there. But Sebastian was different, and I didn’t want to ruin this by moving too fast. Last time I’d gotten touchy-feely with him, he’d panicked.