Page 30 of The Sebastian Guarantee
Good riddance!
He tapped his foot twice and mumbled under his breath. “Butthole.” But he didn’t have time to worry about some wanker. Putting the guy out of his head, he attended to the matter at hand: a basically naked-in-public Phoebe. The situation’s only saving grace was that the sun had set. He looked her over. In the glow of the streetlamp, she was utterly luminous.
“Seb, it’s a little chilly out here,” she said, rubbing her arms.
He snapped out of his staring stupor. “Late September isn’t outdoor lingerie weather in Colorado.” He wrapped the coat around her shoulders like he was dressing a doll. She may be hammered, but he needed to lay down some ground rules. “You can’t keep running off. Did you forget what you were wearing?”
She slipped her arms into the sleeves. “Oops, I did,” she cooed and bit her lip, and dammit, there she was again, acting ridiculously adorable. She held on to him for balance. “Have you ever tried walking in heels this high? It’s like wearing ice picks while tiptoeing across a tightrope. As much as I like the sex-kitten vibe, they can’t hold a candle to sneakers and fuzzy socks.”
He double-knotted the belt. “I couldn’t agree more. Fuzzy socks are bloody comfortable.”
She grinned mischievously. “You did it.”
“Did what?”
“Fuzzy socks arebloodycomfortable,” she slurred back in a God-awful British accent.
“It slips out when I’m feeling strong emotions.” Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the crown of her head. For a sweet slip of time, his worries melted away. That is, until something whizzed by his head.
Phoebe hummed a sweet little sound. “I had a dream about this.”
Was that a drunk confession? Could she have feelings for him that went beyond friendship?
“Me too,” he replied, tightening his hold on her, but before he could fully comprehend what he’d copped to, another object flew by.
Phoebe pulled back a fraction and pointed upward. “You had a dream about cookies raining from the sky, too?” she asked in a wispy, singsong voice.
Cookies raining from the sky?She hadn’t dreamed of him holding her?
And then he put it together—just as something small yet solid struck the nape of his neck.Pop!It didn’t hurt, but it certainly didn’t feel good. Confused, he looked over his shoulder.
“That’s him! Get him,” came a little girl’s squeak of a voice.
Dammit!How could he have forgotten the cookie-peddling Tech Tweens? And it appeared that they weren’t only good with computers. With military precision, the girls got into position. Two launched cookies from behind a trash can while another pair pelted him from behind a mailbox.
“Seb, this is amazing!” Phoebe cried, oblivious that they were under heavy cookie assault. A cookie hit his temple, then dropped into her waiting hands. She took a bite. “Anddelicious.”
What the hell was he supposed to do? Of course, he wanted to apologize to the kids. He owed it to them. Now, however, didn’t appear to be the right time to wave the white flag. He dodged a chocolate-chip-laden treat and cupped Phoebe’s face in his hands. “Phoebe, we need to run.”
She shrugged, then caught another cookie. “That’s not gonna happen in these.” Like they weren’t under attack, and she had all the time in the world, she took a bite and kicked up her foot.
A bead of sweat trickled down his back as cookies bounced off his pack and shattered on the ground in a smattering of cookie carnage. Then it stopped. Was it over? The scrape of cardboard being ripped cut through the brisk air. He knew what that meant. The girls were tearing into a new box and loading up on more cookie ammo. He quickly checked and confirmed his suspicion when two empty boxes dropped to the ground. He and Phoebe didn’t have another second to lose.
He eyed his friend, who’d amassed quite a haul. “Hold on to your cookies, and don’t lose your cookies.”
Confusion marred Phoebe’s expression. “Why?”
“Commence the second wave,” a girl called.
He tensed as the cookie barrage resumed.Pop, pop, pop, pop!Golden-brown crumbs and tiny chocolate chips littered the ground. He hoisted Phoebe into his arms. “Because we’re making a break for your place.”
Phoebe shoved the cookies into the trench’s pockets and wrapped her arms around his neck. She looked over his shoulder and pursed her lips. “Wait a second. It’s not raining cookies. Those sweet little girls are throwing them at us. It’s like dodgeball—the cookie version. And from the look on their faces, they are in it to win it. Do you think that’s what’s going on? Is this some new trend?”
He didn’t have time to explain. “Something like that. Now hold on.” With the crack of cookies striking the pavement, he broke out into a sprint.
“It’s amazing! People are just drawn to you, Seb,” Phoebe remarked, munching away as he hightailed it down the sidewalk.
He looked over his shoulder. Mercifully, the girls hadn’t followed them. He slowed to a walk as the scent of hot dogs drifted in the air.
