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 call 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 neighborhood 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.

“Bad dog,” she scolded, grabbing his leash and then picking him up. “Hush! You aren’t catching that squirrel and you aren’t going on anymore field trips today. House and backyard for you, buddy. You know better than that.” Her tone softened as her heart slowed to a regular rate. “Crossing the street alone, what’s wrong with you?”

She got to her house, that she’d left unlocked, and went in, unsnapping his leash and putting him on the floor where he trotted over to check out his food bowl as if he’d done nothing wrong. He gave her a pathetic look, so she got his ‘diet’ food and put it in his bowl. “There. I hope you’re happy,” she said. “I’m not.”

Gathering her laundry from the bedroom, she took it to the laundry room off the kitchen, double checking she still had Sebastian’s key. Yup. Thank goodness. Last thing she needed to do was lose that. She pulled some chicken from the fridge and decided to make a lemon chicken pasta bake. Her dad loved it, and she would take it to them this afternoon when she went to visit. Getting her pots and crock pot out, she thought about her neighbor and appreciated that thinking of Sebastian kept her from worrying about her mom. She didn’t want to worry about her mom. Her mom was supermom and it would be years before she needed to worry about her, she hoped. Not wanting to think of either of her parents getting older or frail, she pushed it from her mind, and thought of Sebastian while she cooked.

What were the odds a strong alpha male would move in next door to her? He apparently wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean he was available, she reminded herself. Just because he helped her out last night also didn’t mean he was interested in her. It meant he was a decent guy. On the upside, he’d already met all her family, so if they did date, that wouldn’t be an obstacle for him.

Her brain skipped and hopped around while she put the casserole together in her crockpot, then put her wet, clean, laundry in the dryer. Not long after she saw the window truck pull up next door, and hurried over to unlock the door for them.

“Hey, Ms. Carpenter,” one of the men said. Oh, yeah, Toby’s dad. It was nice to know people. “This your house?” he asked.

“No, my neighbor’s. He’s at work and gave me the key,” she said, not adding the part where she, with a little help, had broken the window. Who needed to know that but Sebastian?

“Show me on the outside of the house where the window is, would you?” They walked around the back of the house to the other side. “Can we get in that door?” he asked, pointing to the back door that led to the back hall and basement, she assumed.

“I only have one key,” she said. “I’ll try it and if it doesn’t work, I’ll go around front and open it that way.” Like many older homes, it worked just fine and unlocked with a satisfying click. “Here you are,” she said. “Do what needs done. I’ll be in the front of the house, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Should take us about two hours at the most, depending.”

“No hurry,” she said and headed to the front room. After all, Sebastian wouldn’t want her leaving strange workmen in the house alone, now would he? Plus, she needed to lock up after them, and well, she’d sweep the floor and things because that’s what a good neighbor would do. Right now, she was going to look around a little more, because that’s what a nosy female would do, plus she needed to find the bathroom. Legitimate concern! She’d be here for hours, after all! It was probably close to the bedroom, at least it was in her house. She walked down a short hall off the living room, away from the kitchen, toward where she knew the spare room was, and opened that door. She saw a man on a ladder on the outside of the window, and waved. “Just yell if you need anything,” she said. He nodded back, obviously concentrating, so leaving the door open, she left the room, and went to the next door. The bathroom. Well, that took a load off her mind. There was another small room next to it, with only boxes and a desk with a very large computer and monitor on it. Had he never heard of a laptop?

Then the last one had to be his bedroom. Should she? Why not? Since she couldn’t think of a single reason, she opened the door, feeling slightly guilty and a little devious. Why? He wasn’t home, and it wasn’t like she was going to do anything like rummage through his drawers or anything, now was it? Nope. Just being curious. She’d babysat a lot while she was in high school and had peeked in lots of rooms, and a few drawers. Mostly they were boring. Just clothes. Some neatly folded, some tossed in haphazardly, but the same kinds of things. Seen one pair of panties, seen most of them. Boxers. Ugh. Ugly things. Why weren’t men’s underwear cute? She had no idea. She’d never made any really shocking discoveries like they did in the movies. There was no reason to think this would be any different. So, she’d just look a bit. She opened the door, and peeked in. This room was much bigger than her bedroom and she felt a little envious. But really, what did she do in her bedroom? Sleep and get dressed. That was it.

There was a huge king-sized bed with a dark blue comforter, and the bed was neatly made, of course. There was a nightstand on one side with a phone charger and a clock with huge numbers that seemed to shine off the ceiling. That would be handy when you woke up at night, she thought. No book, no water glass, no lotion, all things on her nightstand. She looked over, and there above the dresser across the room from the bed was a big, flat screen TV. Did he watch TV at night in bed? She did sometimes. He didn’t look the type though. It was probably set on an all-night news channel. Maggie grinned thinking of him watching one of her favorite reality shows.

She peeked in the closet. He hung up his t shirts? Who did that? His jeans, too. Weird. But to each their own, she figured, and looked down. About four pairs of shoes. Enough, not overly extravagant but adequate. Very neat, but of course, he’d just moved in. Room darkening curtains, and a few comfortable throw rugs. It, too, looked cold and sterile. Maggie wondered if he had any personal pictures to hang on the wall, or any landscapes or, what would a man like him hang on his walls? Maybe the answer was in one of the boxes?

Grabbing the phone vibrating in her pocket, she picked it up. “Cambry! What have you heard?” she asked, and wandered into the living room, settling down on the couch to chat.

“I’m picking them up in about an hour. Mom got the go ahead to come home,” she said.

“Oh, good. I started a casserole I’ll run out there later and make sure things are going fine,” Maggie sighed in relief. “So glad it was nothing more serious.”

They chatted about family for a while, until a man came down the hall, calling, “Ms. Carpenter?”

“Gotta go, Cambry. I’ll call you after my visit later,” she said.

“We’re done, ma’am,” he said. “Want to come see?”

“Sure,” she pocketed the phone and walked back with him. “That was fast.” She must have been talking to Cambry much longer than she thought.

“Despite this being an older house, we did the double paned thermal glass windows,” he said, “The rest of the house has those, so we just matched. You won’t beat those for keeping in the heat in the winter.”

Yeah, that sounded expensive, she thought. “Got the bill?”

“No, ma’am. We’re just the labor. The office staff handles the paperwork, they will mail you a bill.”

“Just make sure that you send it to me and not here,” she reminded him.

He saluted and grinned at her. “Will do.”

“Thanks for everything,” she said.

“If everything is fine, we’ll head out.”

He left by way of the back door, carrying his handful of tools, and she looked around a bit more, and decided they cleaned up pretty well, but she’d sweep the floor again and maybe wipe down the sills.

She watched them go out the back door, and then went to the kitchen to find a broom, and get a cloth. Gathering her supplies, she headed to the back room to clean up something that really didn’t need cleaned. It took her just a few minutes when her curiosity got the better of her. What was on his big computer? Dare she fire it up and take a peek before she left? Why not? She hadn’t checked her email today after all. Who would mind if you checked your email? No one, it was practically like a given. Right?

She leaned the broom against the hall door and went to the office room. Finding the power button, she turned it on and sat down in the surprisingly comfortable office chair. He didn’t skimp on the nice stuff, did he? While the computer was powering on, she looked around the room again. Yes, boxes, all neatly taped and labeled. Had he hired a moving crew? Must be nice. She’d moved into her house with a stock trailer her dad had borrowed, and with some family friends helping. Opening the drawer of the desk, she peeked in. Papers! Just as she started snooping through the papers, she heard the front door open and close. Panic surged through her, and she scrambled to power down the computer, and shut the desk drawer. Hurrying out to the hall, she saw Sebastian standing at the room with the now fixed window, as if looking for her. Her heart pounded wildly, and she felt as if she were a little girl who got caught doing something wrong.

Oddly he had one shoe in his hand, why?

Might as well bite the bullet and admit to being there, still. It wasn’t like she was going to hide in the closet after all, was it? Oh, now she thought of that. Next time. She grabbed the broom and said cheerfully, “Hi! I didn’t expect you. Window guys just left, and I was doing a little bit of sweeping up before I left.”

He turned slowly to look at her and said, “The window is fixed.”

Hadn’t she just said that? “Yes?” She’d looked at it. They’d done a good job.

“Did they bring a dog?”

She cocked her head. “No?” Why was she answering his questions with questions?

“I stepped in something on my way in.” He held up his shoe with the remnants of Simon’s poop bag that she’d tossed on the porch earlier and forgotten about. Oh man.

“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m sorry, can I help you clean it up?” Did he even know she had a dog? Yeah, he did, he’d been over last night. She was a pro at cleaning up dog poop off shoes or anything else. She’d always had a dog and quite literally, crap happened.

He just stood there and stared at her, so taking yet another deep breath, she walked over and took the shoe from him, deliberately not touching his hand, and headed to the kitchen to get paper towels.

Walking over to the trash can, she started scraping his shoe, and tried to act as if she didn’t notice him behind her.

“Why were you in my office?” he asked very quietly.

“Being nosy,” she said flippantly, heart pounding. “Just wondering what the rest of the house looked like.” She glanced over at him. “I’m sorry.”

“How’s your mom?” he asked.

Okay, we’re changing the subject and that’s just fine, Maggie thought, going to wet a clean paper towel. “Should be going home today,” she said. “I’m going out to take her and Dad a casserole later, see if they need anything.”

She turned and handed him his well cleaned shoe. “There you go, all better!” Fishing in her shorts pocket, she pulled out his key. “Here’s your key back.”

He waved her off. “I don’t know anyone else in town yet. Why don’t you keep it in case something comes up?”

Maggie smiled at him. He must not be mad about her snoopy ways, after all. She stuck it back in her pocket. “I won’t use it without permission or an emergency,” she promised.

“I’d appreciate that,” he said in his usual dry tone. “You done here?”

“Sure am,” she said, turning to wash her hands.

“Good. I have to get back to work,” he said.

“Oh, I need to make sure the guys locked the back door,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said. Then he walked out the front door, both shoes on his feet, and got in his car. She shook her head, made sure the front door was locked and then scurried out the back door, flipping lights off as she went. He was an odd one, but she didn’t want to get caught in his house, in case he just drove around the block and came back. Would he? She was actually a bit disappointed he didn’t get more stern with her.

She locked the back door behind her, and skipped a little, thinking at some point she would have to confess about Simon and her poop bag. Surely, he would realize her actions needed consequences then? Maybe? Giggling, Maggie wondered what she was thinking? It was almost as if she wanted her suit and tie and fancy dress shoed next-door neighbor to spank her! Well, in her fantasies, she sort of did. But she would only admit that to herself. Never out loud and never to him, or anyone else. It was like a married guy looking. It was okay to look at a pretty girl walking by, but you never told your wife how pretty you thought she was. She could dream about a strong dominant man putting her over his knee and making her bare bottom a bright rosy red, but, in reality, it probably would hurt, would be awkward and she’d feel silly, and who would do that? Men of his generation, unless they were psychos, didn’t hit women. It had been drilled into them since they were toddlers. They probably couldn’t. If they did, it would probably short wire their brains. Although, he had swatted her bottom. That was probably an exception.

Maggie sighed and slowed as she neared her house. Well, she got his window fixed and still owed him a casserole or something to say thank you for taking her to the hospital last night. She needed to pack up her casserole she’d already made, the leftover pie and her dog and head out to her mom’s for the afternoon and be home in time for ball practice.

* * *

Sebastian allowed his lips to twitch as he drove back to work, not even sure what gave him the impulse to swing by home earlier. Sure, he was within a few miles of there after a business meeting with the Chamber of Commerce president that morning, confirming a promotion his company was doing this afternoon, but still, it wasn’t needed, and it wasn’t on his list.

He’d come home and caught his nosy little neighbor in his office, probably sneaking on his computer or going through his desk drawers. He also knew she had a dog, and though he hadn’t seen it this morning, it must have been there at some point. He’d heard it barking at birds, or squirrels, or air, or whatever dogs barked at, in her backyard a few times and saw it in her house last night. He’d never had a dog and had no idea what they barked at, or why one would have its poop on his porch, all neatly bagged up. People used bags to pick up dog poop? Whatever works.

Why would she confess to the window and the snooping but not the dog bag? It made no sense to him, and he rather liked a challenge. She wasn’t quite the angelic, sweet little thing he thought she was yesterday, but she was the most interesting woman he’d met in a while, and if he was very patient, perhaps she could be trained. That would be very enjoyable. It had been a while since he’d trained himself a girlfriend, and since he seemed to be attracted to her, and she was convenient, and adorable, why not?

A few hours later, he headed to his last appointment of the day and wished he was going home. Tired, worn out and frustrated with the manager at the last store, who thought because he’d been doing things the same way for twenty years he was doing things right, and wanted no part of change for the better. At some point he was probably going to have to be replaced, and already had his first warning, but really Sebastian just wanted to go home, have a beer and watch a game on TV.

But he had to go make an appearance at a park, announce the groundbreaking of the new store on the outskirts of town, plug the other two stores, and hand out T-shirts to the athletic team the company was sponsoring. Tony, his PR guy had arranged for the local TV station to cover it. It was good PR to have his name all over the backs of kids, and shirts were cheap. Kids made good TV. He’d done this before in other towns, the new shirts had arrived a few days ago, and this should take less than an hour. Then home, cold beer and a ball game that was more exciting than a kids’ game.

The lovely lady inside his car’s computer announced he was almost to the ball park and he saw the TV truck and crew over in one corner. Grabbing the box from the trunk he headed over that way. The ball field was full, but of grown women, not kids. Were the kids next or was he sponsoring a women's team? That thought hadn’t occurred to him, but he had no concerns about the sizes of the shirts. Tony, the man in charge of all things detail, and who had set this up, would know and have done everything right. He always did. Tony was almost as anal as he was, and that was very much needed in his line of work.

He walked up to the truck, focusing on the man the young blonde with the mic in her hand was speaking to. Probably the producer and the person in charge and the man he needed to speak to. “Hi, I’m Sebastian Jones,” he said walking up to the group.

“Mr. Jones, great! We’re going live in about twenty minutes, have you been on TV before?” The blonde with the mic asked him professionally. Okay, maybe she was in charge. He needed to not jump to conclusions. Turning his attention to her, he smiled and nodded, then waited for her to tell him what they would be doing and showing him where they would be standing.

About five minutes later, a coach blew a whistle and the team came off the field toward her, then after a few minutes, they all came trooping over so they could be arranged behind them facing the camera. There she was. His window breaking, snooping, brunette, adorable neighbor. They locked eyes, and she looked surprised, but smiled and gave a half wave, while taking her place in line with the other players.

Their segment was over in less than five minutes, and he felt pleased with how it went. He got his advertising plugs in, the coach held up the shirts with the Jones’ Farm Equipment logo over the front. Good publicity, and he wasn’t even a bit disappointed that these weren’t adorable little kids, but fully-grown women, especially when the coach said they were on track for state finals in a few weeks, and were very excited about both the sponsorship and the new shirts. They could wear his shirts to state, that would be more than fine.

After the TV people started packing up, he took the rest of the shirts out and started passing them out. He could have let the coach do it, sure, but suddenly going home didn’t seem as attractive.

Maggie said, as he started down the line, “Hey, everyone, this is my neighbor, and he’s new in town. Think we should invite him to pizza with us after practice?” A chorus of wolf whistles and cheers followed, and he half smiled, forgetting at times how rowdy a group of women could be. His work was male dominated and he was rarely around many women. It was hard to think of many things he wanted to do less than hang out with a bunch of women in a pizza joint. One on one women were fine. A group of them who wolf whistled, not so much.

“I’m sorry, I’d love to, but I have another appointment,” he said, causing a chorus of groans, as he gave out the last shirt to Maggie and smiled down at her. “How’s your mom?” he asked softly.

“Home and resting, thank you for asking,” she said, smiling up at him, looking adorably cute in her red T-shirt and long tanned legs under those tiny denim shorts.

“What position do you play?” he asked, not wanting the conversation to end for some reason.

“First base,” she said, taking the shirt.

“Maggie is our best hitter,” the tall redhead next to her said. “The main reason we’re going to make state.”

“We have a few more games yet,” Maggie laughed. “But yeah, we’re going to make it.”

“Best hitter, huh?” he said and then turned to face her. “See you later.”

Why had he said that? He never said things he didn’t mean, so apparently, he meant it. He picked up the empty box, half waved at the coach and headed back to his car.

He did have an appointment. An appointment with a beer and a game, then to unpack and take a look at his office and see if he could find anything to prove she’d been snooping. Not that it really mattered, there was nothing but business papers in there, and none of them were secret. He just felt curious and wanted to know. Wondering if she’d gone in his bedroom, too, he told the car he wanted to go home. The map and her voice led him down the side streets. He needed to take some time to look around the town more. So far, he hadn’t had any time to do that. Unpacking and working were his two main priorities. He liked his house comfortable and welcoming when he came home at night. He’d be there a few months, then make some decisions and start renovating. Allowing himself a small flight of fantasy, he wondered what it would be like to come home to a warm, comfortable and welcoming woman? His brain flashed an image of huge hazel brown eyes with thick lashes, looking up at him with guilt, with panic, with submission. He smiled, while pulling onto his street. He liked that vision very much and what Sebastian Jones liked, he generally got.