15. Meghan #2
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, he knee-walks forward and wraps his arms around me. He’s so tall that even kneeling, his face is level with my chest. With his cheek pressed against my boobs, his arms tighten around my waist, pulling me in for a hug.
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out. This man is not what I expected.
My honey badger is standing on two legs clapping her paws. The dirty bitch likes this show of submission.
Tugging at his shirt I whisper-shout at him, “Get up!” His response is too mumbled for me to understand. “Get your face out of my tits. I can’t hear you.” I grab a handful of hair and tug until his head is tilted back. The smile on his face is entirely wicked.
“I like having my face in your tits.” I use my free hand to flick his forehead. He just laughs. “Plus, I’m not getting up until you agree to call me Sebastian again.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You can call me Ash when you want to, but not out of spite. I just can’t have that," he frowns.
“Okay, Sebastian - ” I hiss out his name. “You’re forgiven. I’ll call you whatever you want. Just get the fuck up!”
Pulling against the grip I still have on his hair, he tilts his head back down so he’s looking right at my chest. “What can I say, I’ve been dying to bury my face in your Bundt.”
An extra-loud gasp stops me from reaching out and slapping Sebastian.
We both turn our heads to see that the old hag is back and glaring at us.
Before I can say anything, Sebastian turns back and starts to nuzzle his face into my cleavage.
The old woman is saying something as she storms away, but I can’t hear her over my own laughter.
“Seriously, get up you maniac!” I choke out. “If you get me kicked out, I’m going to take back my forgiveness. I need to buy food!”
Releasing his grip on me, Sebastian rises to his full height, looking smug and sexy. I refuse to acknowledge how wildly my body reacted to his attention. I’ve tried to forget our make-out session in the corn maze, but my body didn’t forget. It didn’t forget at all.
“Okay. Let’s go shopping," he says, putting his basket on the bottom rack of my cart.
“Umm, what?” I ask.
“Shop-ping...” he drags the word out.
“I’m familiar with the term, thanks. But what do you mean let’s ? We aren’t grocery shopping together.”
“Why not?” Sebastian asks, like I’m the crazy one.
“Well…” I don’t actually have a good reason. “I have a lot, like a lot a lot, on my list. It’s going to take me a while.”
“I got time," he shrugs.
I toss my hands up. “Alright, weirdo, let’s shop together.”
Grabbing my cart, I look through the grate at his basket and see that it’s empty. “Where’s your list?” I ask.
“Huh?”
“Do you have a list of what you need?”
“Uh, no. I’m just here to get lunch. I’ve never been to this location before, but I figured it’d have a good deli, like the other ones I’ve been to.”
“Hmm.” Guess that explains why I’ve never seen him in here before. “Why are you here if this isn’t your usual store?”
“I had a sleepover in the neighborhood.”
And just like that, my heart drops. This guy really is a player. He spent last night in bed with some woman, and the next morning he’s on his knees in a grocery store motorboating my tits.
“ Ah ," is all I can manage. We’re not dating. We’re nothing. I have no right to feel upset.
I take my phone out, and once again check what I need.
“Did you need anything from this aisle?” Sebastian asks.
I finally take note of where we are standing, and I have to stop myself from doing a literal face-palm. We are in a sea of adult diapers, pads, organic tampons, a large selection of vegan lube, and of course, pregnancy tests.
“No.” I go back to pushing the cart .
“Are you sure?” Sebastian easily keeps stride with me. “I did find you, talking to yourself, before you had a chance to grab anything.”
I glance up and see that he’s smirking down at me.
“I was trying to get away from you. And talking myself down from my plan to murder you via an eggplant shoved down your throat. It seemed like a good idea.”
Sebastian laughs. He’s smart enough not to comment on the fact that I’m leading us back to the produce section. I wasn’t done when I rushed away from him earlier.
Opening a bag of red grapes, I gently squeeze a few.
“What are you checking for?” He opens his own bag.
“Just to see how firm they are. I like the crunchy ones. Squishy grapes creep me out.”
“Huh.” He watches as I go through and select the perfect bag. When I pick one, he reaches over and plucks one of the grapes off the bunch and pops it in his mouth. I watch him chew. His jaw flexing, his throat working with a swallow. It’s disturbingly attractive.
We wander through the stands silently for a few minutes. I can feel Sebastian’s eyes on me as I sniff through a pile of peaches, selecting the ones that are just a day or two shy of perfectly ripe.
I’m digging through a pile of garlic bulbs when Ash startles me by saying, “My brother.”
“What?” I turn to look at him.
“My brother, Curtis, lives over here. I stayed at his house last night.”
“Oh. Okay.” I try to keep the relief off my face. “I didn’t ask.”
“Uh huh, you were not asking... very loudly.”
I make a noncommittal sound. “You guys must be close.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Sebastian says as I move on to the bananas.
“He has the cutest little twins. They’re…
I dunno, like eight months old now. Curtis’s wife left last night for a much-deserved girls' retreat, and he was freaking out a little about being home alone with little Anna and Raymond. But - of course - he couldn’t tell the Mrs. that he was losing his shit, so I offered to stay the night. ”
“That was awfully nice of you.” My honey badger is swooning against my ribs and her eyes are little cartoon hearts, imaging Sebastian with an armful of babies.
“Nah, not that nice. I pawned him off on my parents for the rest of the weekend. It was nice hanging with my brother for a night, but I’m not looking for a whole weekend of parental duty. Plus, I have today off, but it’s back to the grind tomorrow.”
“That’s right. You guys have a home game.”
“Sure do. You comin'?”
“No. I have a birthday party. Or, well, a foundation’s birthday party.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
I chuckle. “It’s for work. I’m an event planner, so I have to be there to make sure all the details run smoothly.”
“Event planner.” He gives me a slow once over. “I can see it.”
“Oh shut up,” I smack his chest. “I can be professional. This is my weekend no-one-I-know-is-meant-to-see-me look.”
Sebastian smiles. “I like it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I roll my eyes.
“What? I do - it's fun. Just like you.”
I’m glad he’s walking behind me as I finally lead us away from the produce. I’m pretty sure my cheeks are pink, and my smile could be described as dopey.
I snag some bacon on the way to the baking section because every home needs a proper bacon stash.
Pausing in front of the flour, I take a deep breath. This is my mecca. I start piling items in my cart. I’m low on just about everything, and I need to make more of my coffee cakes.
“Don’t you have a co-worker you could switch shifts with?”
With a bag of pecans in each hand, I face Sebastian.
“Switch shifts?”
“For tomorrow. So you could come to the game.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s being a little bashful.
“Oh, right -” I smile proudly. “It’s just me, there are no co-workers. I run my own business.”
“No shit? That’s cool. Color me impressed.” His words seem genuine .
“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking impressive,” I laugh, tossing the nuts in the cart.
“How long have you had your company?”
“A few years now.”
He nods approvingly. “Is owning your own business what you always wanted to do?”
“I started it not too long after I finished college. I got my degree in business management, because I had no idea what I wanted to do. Then the first office job I got, I ended up being tasked with planning their annual sales meeting. Then their Christmas party. Then the summer picnic. And it just kinda became my thing. I was good at it, if I dare say so myself, and it got my gears turning. I ended up leaving that job for a low-level position at an event planning company. Spent a year there learning as much as I could, then went out on my own. I bartended to pay the bills until Meghan’s Moments became big enough to sustain me on its own.
Which actually didn’t take as long as I thought it would.
So, I’ve been working full-time for myself for about four years now. ”
“Congratulations.”
I shrug, pawing through the sugar selection.
“I mean it. That’s really awesome. You had a goal. Set a path. And succeeded. Not many people can claim such a thing.”
“Thanks.” I turn to face him. “I’ve always been a bit…”
“Stubborn.”
I glare at Sebastian.
“Hard-headed?” he suggests.
“Not what I was going to say,” I respond. “Maybe annoyingly persisten t? Oh, wait, no. That’s you.”
He just smirks.
I move to the flours, and I can hear him digging around in my cart.
“Who needs this much sugar? What do you do with it all?”
I spin around and swat at his hands. “Keep your grubby man paws off my stuff.”
“Alright, alright - ” Sebastian puts his hands up like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Seriously, though. What do you do with all this stuff? ”
“Uh, bake things. Duh. ”
“But why do you have so many types?” He looks honestly perplexed, pointing to the bags.
“Have you never seen brown sugar before?”
“You have three! And they’re all different!”
I laugh. “What’d you do, grow up under a rock? I have light and dark brown sugar. The third is Turbinado.” He gives me a blank stare, so I continue. “I’m getting more powdered sugar, too.”
He holds up the large bag of granulated sugar. I find myself rolling my eyes again. “Okay, and that too.”
“Seriously. What do you do with this?” Sebastian’s starting to look concerned.
“I repackage it and sell it at the farmers market.” I deadpan.
“Really?”