Chapter 10
Sebbie
Corbin was sitting in my living room with my feet in his lap.
Actually, he was gently rubbing my feet, which I really hoped weren’t stinky, and I had the urge to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t sleeping. Realizing I was in a house with a dead body and an unconscious man hadn’t been as surprising to me as this chain of events.
Did I mention Corbin was sitting in my living room? With my feet in his lap.
The man was gorgeous. There was absolutely no other word to describe him.
He had the most beautiful long, dark hair that made me want to run my fingers through it.
His features were so distinctive—his lips looked totally nibble worthy, and his scruff was sexy as hell.
He was wearing a fitted t-shirt, and his tattoos were visible on his arms and peaking out around the neckline.
The man gave a new meaning to “fit.” Then again, all the Smith brothers were ridiculously hot and muscly.
His thumb rubbed into the arch of my foot, and I barely managed to suppress a groan. The man was good with his hands, and if I didn’t stop thinking about that, then I was going to embarrass myself.
I tried to rein in my thoughts. We were talking about my weird-ass incident and people dying, and those were not sexy thoughts. (Although I didn’t blame myself for getting derailed. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had rubbed my feet.)
“So, um, are you comfortable with death because of the witch thing? Wiccan thing?” I corrected, hoping I wasn’t being offensive.
Corbin smiled. “Wicca is a relatively new term. My ancestors referred to themselves as healers or diviners. Witch is a term that came later and had a lot of negative associations, but in using it we choose to reclaim it. But yes, I suppose that’s part of why I’m comfortable with death.
There is a cycle to all life, and death isn’t an ending, it’s only a different beginning. ”
“I like that. I tell my patients that all the time. It’s the next great adventure.” I smiled, thinking about Mr. Russell.
For a moment, I considered telling Corbin about my dreams. I didn’t think he’d find me weird. Maybe he’d have some sort of insight or explanation or something.
“What does it mean? To be a witch? If you don’t mind talking about it,” I said.
“I don’t mind talking about anything with you, Sebbie.”
Talk about warm fuzzies. Gah, he was so freaking sweet.
“I guess a big part of it is being more in tune to the natural world,” Corbin continued. “The elements are an important part of my practice. I meditate, and I like to be in nature and work with my hands.”
His expertise with his hands was evident with my foot rub.
“What kind of work do you do?” I asked. I realized I actually didn’t know what most of the Smith brothers did. I knew Liam did computer stuff, but beyond that, I wasn’t really sure.
“I’ve done a lot of different things over the years.
I grow herbs and plants to make tonics, salves, and lotions.
I love working with stone and wood, and I’ve done carvings and made jewelry.
I’ve sold a fair number of pieces, and I enjoy the work.
I’ve worked with pottery as well, although I don’t have a kiln here yet. ”
“That’s awesome. I took a pottery class with Toby when he was thinking of putting it in a book, and it was a lot of fun.”
Corbin smiled fondly. “How did that go for Toby?”
I laughed. “About as good as you would expect. I made pottery, and Toby tried to make pottery, but he had a million questions, got distracted, and somehow cut himself.” I shook my head. I loved Toby, but only he could injure himself with wet clay.
“Sounds about right,” Corbin laughed. “What about you? I know you’re a nurse. Do you enjoy it?”
“I love my work. I work mostly in hospice right now, which I know sounds really depressing, but it’s nice to be able to be there for people, and I actually get to spend a fair amount of time with the patients, which I like. And it’s like you said—death isn’t an ending.” I shrugged my shoulders.
That made me think about what’d happened that day. Another dead body in my vicinity. Of course.
“What is it?” Corbin asked. “What’s worrying you? You can talk to me.”
I sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that it’s all kind of fuzzy.”
“That’s okay. Maybe talking it through will help. And I won’t judge, no matter what you say,” Corbin reassured me.
I closed my eyes, thinking back to what had happened. “I was in the shop with Dexter and Toby. I think that’s when I started feeling… I don’t know, a little odd? I was looking at the shelves, and there was this deck of cards. I picked it up, and the card I saw was called Death.”
I heard a deep inhale, and I looked over at him, but his face looked calm. He squeezed my foot.
I closed my eyes again, trying to remember how it had all happened. “It’s sort of like a dream. Isn’t that weird? Like something that happened but didn’t happen, and the further away from it I get, the hazier it seems.”
Corbin hummed in agreement, gently rubbing my lower legs.
“I was looking at the card, and I heard a noise, I think. I remember looking over to make sure that Dexter and Toby were okay, but they were fine. It sounded sort of like someone in pain, and I guess my nurse instinct just sort of kicked in?”
I tried to think back, but it was hazy. “I walked then, following the sound, and I ended up at that house.”
“Do you remember how long you walked for?”
“No? It didn’t feel like long at all, and since I heard the noise it had to have been close by, right?”
Corbin made a noncommittal noise. He probably wasn’t even sure where the shop was, so he wouldn’t know that.
“The door was unlocked. I remember that much. And then…”
I opened my eyes, looked at him, and shrugged my shoulders.
“Nothing?” Corbin asked. “Do you remember either of the men, or standing by either of them?”
“Nope. I just remember sitting on the couch and Toby talking to me. That’s weird, right?
How did I lose that time? I know that sometimes the brain protects itself from trauma by forgetting things, but I wasn’t injured, and I’ve seen a lot worse in my time as an EMT and nurse.
It was horrible and tragic that someone died and someone was injured, but it wasn’t traumatic for me.
I don’t mean to make light of what happened, but that definitely isn’t the worst I’ve seen. ”
Corbin squeezed my ankle. “I know, Sebbie. I understand what you’re saying.”
I let my eyes fall shut again. I was just so damn tired.
“It’s okay, Sebbie. Rest now. I’ll watch over you.”
I knew I should tell him he didn’t have to stay and I would be fine, but I could feel myself slipping into darkness. His hands on my legs felt so warm and comforting, and I didn’t even try to tell him to go.
Just for a minute. I’d just close my eyes for a minute.
I was dreaming of the river again.
I was on my boat, but it was already at the dock, and I didn’t see a throng of people waiting for a ride. The skies were overcast and dark, and there was a light mist of rain in the air.
“Sebbie?” a voice quietly asked.
I turned, and there was Corbin standing on the dock. Ohhh, this was fun! I smiled broadly, saying, “Corbin! Welcome to my boat!”
He was dressed just like he had been in real life.
I silently cursed my imagination for not making him shirtless or something.
But, as usual, my lucid dreaming didn’t really extend to controlling people (or apparently what they were wearing).
I had a random thought then, because the only people I tended to dream about were dead people.
“Oh my gosh, you aren’t dead, are you?” I asked, feeling panicky. I hopped off the boat (quite gracefully, thank you) and walked over, touching Corbin’s chest. He felt real, but then dead people always did in my dream. And my gosh, his chest was firm. Those muscles.
“No, I’m not dead. You just brought me here, I think,” Corbin answered.
He didn’t seem to mind the fact that I was sort of groping his chest at that point, and in fact, his eyes looked a little bit like they had some fire in them.
That was hot. In fact, I could feel the heat emanating off of him.
I hadn’t realized I was even chilly until I felt how incredibly warm he was.
Without thinking too much, I snuggled into that warm chest, cuddling my face in and pressing my body up against his.
“You’re so warm,” I muttered into his shirt. Ugh, how I wished I could lucid dream my way into snuggling against his bare chest.
“Sebbie, where are we?” Corbin asked.
He didn’t sound upset, exactly, and he put his arms around me, so I knew he didn’t mind the cuddling.
“I should have asked first about the cuddling. I’m sorry about that.
Even though this is a dream, I feel very strongly that my subconscious creations have autonomy.
I give lots of hugs, but that’s because a lot of people know me and want a hug,” I explained.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get consent before snuggling in. ”
“I like holding you,” he said, and his arms tightened for a second. “But I’d still like to know where we are, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, sure,” I said, backing up. His arms held on for a moment before dropping down, so I took his hand and used my other to wave out across the dock, my boat, and the river.
“This is the river. I dream about it all the time. And that’s my boat.
I give people a ride to the other side.” I turned and smiled up at him.
“What’s on the other side?” he asked, looking down at me. There were still flames dancing in his eyes, but they weren’t scary. He looked affectionate, and it made me blush a bit.
“Oh, umm… I’m not sure? A nice place. Usually there’s a bunch of people here waiting, and I cross them over, and their loved ones and stuff are on the other side.” I shrugged my shoulders. “And that’s it.”