Happily Letter After(24)
He tilted his head. “Why did they close?”
“Umm. I think because the rent is so high in the city.”
He squinted so tightly that I could barely see the whites of his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned his back to me and started to walk into the living room. “Follow me.”
Like a puppy, I trailed behind. Marmaduke had walked ahead and was busy doing something in the corner. Sebastian turned to me and pointed to the dog. “This is new. Perhaps we can start today’s session with you demonstrating how to stop my dog from doing that to my daughter’s stuffed animals.”
Leaning in for a closer look, I saw that the giant animal was humping a stuffed turtle. Ugh. His lipstick was out and everything. I scrunched up my nose. “He’s humping a turtle.”
“Is that what he’s doing? I wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps you get a lot more practice than I do.”
My eyes widened. Did he just call me a whore? I blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”
“Well, you told my daughter that you write about your dating life for a living. So naturally I assume that means you go out with a wide variety of men.”
I was getting more pissed off by the minute. I might be a liar, but I was certainly not promiscuous. My hands gripped my hips. “Just because I date a lot doesn’t mean I’m off humping anything I can get my hands on like your dog. Perhaps you should look inward—maybe your dog gets his hobbies from his master. What exactly is your dating life like?”
Sebastian practically snarled at me. Screw this. I snarled right back.
My attention was again distracted when Marmaduke started to really go to town. While before, he had been gently gyrating his hips in a haphazard motion, now he was pumping away like a man on a mission. Or a dog. A dog on a mission, I meant. I yelled at him. “Marmaduke. No!”
Shockingly, the big dog froze. He stood there midpump, looking like he hadn’t even realized anyone was watching, and now he’d been caught red-handed. While he was flustered, I marched over and slipped the stuffed turtle from beneath him. Ugh. It was . . . wet. I didn’t even want to know what type of canine bodily fluids I was touching. I held the tail between two fingers and looked at Sebastian. “Where is your washing machine?”
“The laundry room is off the kitchen.”
I knew which way that was, so I helped myself. I walked the offending turtle to the kitchen and opened a bunch of doors until I found the one that contained a small laundry room. Lifting the top of the washer, I tossed the plush toy inside and turned to Sebastian, who was watching from the doorway.
“What else is he humping?”
“A few of my daughter’s other stuffed animals.”
“Go get them.”
Sebastian disappeared and came back with three more small plush toys. He handed them to me, and I tossed them all into the washer. “Do you have any vinegar?”
His brows furrowed. “I think so.”
“Go get it.”
Once again, he surprised me by doing as I instructed without question. When he returned, I had the washing machine filling up with water, and I added two capfuls of the vinegar. “Puppies don’t reach puberty until six to eight months, so he isn’t humping for sexual pleasure. It’s usually just a playful game they find out is fun for them. Animals tend to pick things that smell good. A little vinegar in the wash might do the trick to stop him.”
Thankfully, I’d been reading a lot and stumbled on an article on humping. For a minute there, I almost sounded like I knew what the hell I was talking about.
Sebastian nodded, seemingly knocked down off whatever high horse he’d been on when I arrived. I brushed past him to exit the laundry room and went back to the living room to find Marmaduke sitting. It looked like he was waiting for me to return.
“You said you wanted to do some indoor training today. But I think it’s best if I take him for a walk before we attempt that. He has a lot of energy and follows commands best when he’s a bit tired.”
“Fine. I’ll join you.”
I held up a hand and showed him my palm. “I prefer to go alone.” Not wanting to tell him I needed a minute to gather my wits, I pulled yet another bullshit lie out of my ass. “It’s bonding time for me as Marmaduke’s trainer.”
Sebastian’s eyes roamed my face, as if he was debating what I’d said. Eventually, he gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll wait here.”
You know how you’re calm during the seconds of a narrowly averted disaster, only for your heart to start pumping like crazy after the situation is under control again? That’s exactly what I felt like as I walked down the front stairs of the Maxwell residence with Marmaduke. My legs shook with each step, and I had to gulp a few mouthfuls of air in order to catch my breath. What the hell had gone on in there? I replayed the last ten minutes over in my head—the mocking way Sebastian had spoken to me, how he’d seemed to challenge every word that came out of my mouth, the way he’d questioned my dating habits. But by the time I’d walked around the block a few times, I’d calmed down and convinced myself that my own guilt had me reading into things that hadn’t really been there. It was like the telltale heart beating under the floorboards—with every minute I was in Sebastian’s presence, I heard the thumping louder, and it had started to feel like the room was closing in on me. But really, there had been no beating heart under the floor. The entire crazy encounter had been a figment of my imagination.