Blind Love

by Kishan Paul

  The attacker planted a knee on either side of her hips.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she mumbled through the thick downy layers.

  A maniacal laugh answered. Seconds later, hands grabbed and pulled at the duvet. Adrenaline surged through her veins, fueling her anger. Lauren tugged back and tried to stay in control, but was outmatched.

  When cold air hit her warm skin, she screamed, “So help me if you don’t get the hell out of here I’m going to kill you!”

  Jack’s paws pattered against the carpeted floor while he paced, barking relentlessly.

  “Jack, attack!” she yelled.

  The mattress shifted when he joined the battle. Their bodies dipped and rose, making her extra-firm pillow top feel more like a waterbed. Legs and arms flailed. Screams pierced the air. Wet smacking sounds and heavy breathing preceded more screams and giggles. Lauren reached for the blanket and cocooned herself in its warmth while the two fought for control.

  “Get off me, you big cow,” Sunny squealed. “Jack. Down!”

  Seconds later, his paws landed with a thud on the carpeted floor.

  Goose bumps created mountain ranges across Lauren’s body when the warmth was stripped away a second time.

  “Now get your lazy ass out of bed,” the obnoxious intruder ordered.

  “No.” She pouted and curled up in a ball, hugging her pillow. “There is nothing sunny and bright about you, Sunshine Daye.”

  “All true, but you still missed me,” she sang and bounced on the bed.

  She couldn’t argue that point. As much as she complained about Sunny most of the time, she was Lauren’s rock. After Ben left her for another woman, Sunny helped glue the pieces back together again. The two typically spent five out of seven days a week together. Sunny took care of her billing, transcribed her taped notes, picked out her clothes, drove her wherever she needed to go, and every time her ego got a little too big, the succubus happily stomped on it.

  Lauren mumbled profanities and climbed out of bed before she got seasick.

  Although he kept his promise to stay silent during her sessions, Gabe had worked late into the night. Which meant Lauren stayed up cursing his hammer, drill and all sorts of other power tools.

  Jack rubbed his head against her stomach for his good morning kiss. Lauren leaned over and was letting him lick her face clean when the office line rang. “What time is it?”

  “Six thirty,” Sunny said.

  Ignoring the call, she turned to Sunny. “Why are you here so early?”

  “You told me to come and drag your butt out of bed so we can work on your notes, remember?”

  “Oh right, sorry, last night was bad.” Lauren made her way to the adjoining bathroom. “How was your writing day?”

  “Perfect, I’ve figured out what my next story line’s going to be and my agent loves the concept.”

  “Ohh, tell me.” She squeezed some toothpaste into her mouth and brushed.

  “It’s going to be an erotic historical romance.”

  Lauren paused from her brushing for a moment to consider all the reasons why Sunny’s voice sounded strained. “And?” she asked through a mouthful of foam.

  “It’s about you.”

  The image of beefy men ripping off her bodice and sheathing their shafts into her wet folds had her giggling. “What?”

  “It’s about a blind princess finding love in the most ordinary of places.” Sunny’s excitement was infectious.

  “Aww, how sweet. You’re going to write about me?”

  “Yup. You’re my inspiration. I have the whole story laid out. I just need to find the right man for you.”

  “Maybe my fictional self’ll have better luck,” Lauren said.

  “Of course she will. She’ll be a kinder, gentler version of you.”

  She pulled out her toothbrush and spit in the sink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Meaning she won’t cut his balls off the minute she gets scared.”

  Lauren gasped at Sunny’s description. “You think I emasculate men?”

  “Emasculate. Intimidate. Shall I go on?”

  “No,” she whispered and splashed cold water on her face. That woman really needs to work on keeping her opinions to herself, even if they are right. Lauren never set out to hurt men, but each time things went well for her, she managed to ruin it. Considering she got paid to help people figure out why they did the things they did, she knew what her issues were. Knowing and working on them, though, were two very different things.

  The toilet seat slammed shut. Sunny seated herself on the lid and changed the subject while Lauren brushed her hair. “Enough about me, how was yesterday for you?”

  “Fine, got my work done. Met the neighbor.”

  “Ohh?”

  “No, not ooh. More like nooo. I had to have a talk with him about using his tools during my phone sessions.” Back in the bedroom, Lauren grabbed Jack’s harness hung on the wall and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Ohh, power tools?”

  “Shut up and let me finish, please.” Jack rested his chin on her lap while she looped the belt around his neck and chest and buckled him in. “He’s pushy. I think he’s been spying on me and for some reason he thinks I’m going out to dinner with him tonight.”

  Sunny took in a dramatic breath. “Oh. My. God. You have a date?”

  Lauren immediately regretted telling her and tried to stop her friend’s romantic and often erotic imagination from racing. “No, I don’t have a date. The man’s most likely a psychopath.” Together, the three made their way to the office.

  “What did Jack think of him?”

  Hmm, good question. “Polite indifference.”

  “Mystery solved. Definitely not a psychopath. You will go to dinner with him. What the hell happened to your diploma?”

  “The psychopath happened. And no, I will not. I’m not desperate.”

  “It’s been what, a year, since you’ve gone out with anyone besides me and your parents? This is huge.”

  Lauren plopped into her seat and grabbed the tapes Sunny needed to transcribe. “It’s not happening.”

  “Does he sound cute?”

  Omitting the images she had of him as a shirtless cowboy, Lauren decided to go for the least-appealing description she’d been able to think of. “Overweight. The wall creaked when he leaned against it. He sounded Southern but he could be missing his front teeth and the lisp it created could be why he sounded like that. Anyway, the dinner invite’s to apologize for banging against the wall while I was in session.”

  “He was having sex against the wall?” The pieces of glass fragments that once framed a diploma clinked in the trash can as Sunny cleaned up the mess.

  “No, banging doesn’t usually mean sex. It means hammer and nails and pounding said hammer and nails into a wall until my diploma falls down.”

  “Banging, pounding, nailing, oh my.”

  “Sunny.”

  “Yes, Cat.”

  “You have a sex addiction.”

  She snorted. “Which makes me a damn good writer. Anyway, I see it as having a very healthy sexual appetite. Now, what do you want me to do with this mess?”

  “Can we get it reframed?”

  “I’ll drop it off today on my way home.”

  Before she could respond, Jack barked and ran out of the room. Seconds later, someone knocked at the back door.

  “What time is it?”

  “Six forty,” Sunny answered.

  The banging and Jack’s barking grew louder. Lauren ran her hands through her hair and made her way down the stairs with Sunny close behind.

  At the door, her best friend leaned over her and peeked through the blinds.

  “Oh Sweet Baby Jesus, who’s that?” she whispered.

  Lauren pushed he
r away and blocked the entrance with her body. “If I could see, I’d tell you.”

  “It’s a man. Open the door,” she ordered and tried to pull Lauren’s hand from the knob.

  “No! We don’t know who he is,” she hissed.

  “Lauren, it’s Gabe.” The way her name sounded in the baritone voice of his had her stomach doing the funny flipping thing again like it did yesterday in the backyard.

  “Yes, Lauren, it’s Gabe,” Sunny imitated. “Now open the fucking door.”

  “Hi, Gabe. Everything okay?” she asked, her voice huskier than she’d like.

  “I heard screams. I tried calling a couple times and when you didn’t answer, thought I’d come over and check things out.”

  “The neighbor with the power tools?” Sunny hissed. “The man is eye candy beautiful.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s not a rapist or serial killer,” Lauren hissed back.

  Boney arms wrapped tight around her waist, lifting her off the ground and planting her a few feet away from the entrance. Disoriented, Lauren was still figuring out which direction she was facing when the door rattled and opened.

  “Hey,” Sunny said in her most seductive tone. After rolling her eyes, Lauren walked toward her friend’s voice.

  “Hi,” Gabe cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I was looking for Lauren.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “Sorry to bother you two. Like I said, I heard screaming…”

  “So sorry; we were having a disagreement,” she answered before Sunny got a chance to give her interpretation of events.

  “I’m Sunny.” Her voice sounded deep and breathy. Lauren cringed and resisted the urge to hit her.

  “Hi, Sunny, I’m Gabe.”

  “Nice to meet you, neighbor with the power tools.”

  “Anyway, we’re fine. Thanks for checking.” Lauren reached over to shut the door but Sunny wouldn’t let it go.

  “How sweet. Did you hear, Cat? He came here to see if you needed to be saved.” Since when did she start speaking with a Southern accent?

  “I don’t need to be saved,” she muttered.

  “That’s all relative now isn’t it, sweetheart? Why don’t you come in, Gabe? I just made some fresh coffee.”

  “I’d love some. But if you don’t mind, let me go put some clothes on and I’ll be right back.”

  A few seconds after he disappeared, Sunny blew out a breath and closed the door. “Honey, I do mind if you put on more clothes.”

  “What’s wrong with you? You can’t let strangers into my home,” Lauren growled.

  “Rule number one: When a man who looks like him walks up in nothing but hard muscles and a thin pair of boxers, you invite him in. Rule number two: Keep rocking those low-cut tank tops and short biker shorts, ’cause he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

  “Oh God,” Lauren pulled up the neck of her tank and rushed upstairs.

  “Overweight and missing his front teeth,” Sunny muttered as she followed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Grabbing a pair of jeans and a shirt from the drawer, Lauren pulled them on over her sleepwear. “Not important. He was pushy and like I said, he’s been watching me.”

  “No. Not true. He’s not watching you, he’s lusting after you. Here, let me paint him for you.”

  Sunny had a knack for description. She’d taken on the responsibility of being Lauren’s eyes when she lost her vision and made it a point to reference people and movies they both remembered.

  “About six feet two, a mouth full of perfect white teeth, and ripped.” A lovely image of Gabe took shape. “If I didn’t have Scott, I’d have run my fingers down those hills and valleys right to the elastic band of his sweet black shorts and…”

  “No sex fantasies, please, only facts.”

  “Okay, fine. A mix of Matt Damon’s face from Goodwill Hunting, but better looking, and Tom Cruise’s body from Mission Impossible Two when he hung from the cliff, remember?”

  Lauren bit her lip and nodded.

  “But bulkier and much, much taller. He has this tribal tattoo around his right biceps. It’s a bunch of shapes, but looks hot. Dark hair buzzed short, strong jaw line, deep blue eyes, full lips I’m sure are capable of making some lucky woman, more specifically you, scream…”

  She shook her head and pushed her sex-addicted friend aside while she made her way downstairs.

  “And you have a date with him tonight.”

  “I’m not going.” In the kitchen, she opened the second cabinet to the left and grabbed some coffee mugs.

  Sunny poured water into the coffee maker. “It’s been a long time since you’ve gone out with a man.”

  From the drawer to the right of the dishwasher, Lauren grabbed some coffee pods and tossed them by the brewer. “That doesn’t mean I jump the first man who comes along. Anyway, he didn’t ask me out, he told me he’d pick me up tonight at seven. Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I’m submissive and desperate.”

  “Honey, he thinks you’re hot and you are—Jessica Alba from Dark Angel hot.”

  “It doesn’t matter, I told him I’m dating someone.” She made her way to the refrigerator and pulled out some bagels.

  “Then why’s he taking you out?”

  “He says it’s to make up for disturbing my work with his hammering.”

  Sunny snorted and went into her sleazy Betty Boop voice, “I bet he hammers exceptionally well and can go all night.”

  “This is not one of your erotica novels, and again, the guy is probably crazy. When I told him I had a boyfriend, he said he hadn’t seen anyone come by. Who says that? It’s weird—spy-stalker weird.”

  “Or very interested. You’ve diagnosed every man who’s ever been attracted to you. Stop it. You’re going to go out with him tonight. And I think I’ve discovered your man for my story…”

  Chapter Three

  Complicating Uncomplicated Lives

  “What the hell’s wrong with me?” Gabe asked while tucking his boxers into his jeans. When he heard all the screaming next door, he’d jumped out of his sleeping bag thinking she was in trouble. The fact that she didn’t answer her phone fed his fears and sent him running, ready to take on whatever danger lurked. Now, fifteen minutes later, he was home and his palms were still sweaty and adrenaline pumping but for an entirely different reason—going back over there to have coffee with his neighbor. He hadn’t been this nervous around a woman since he was fifteen. He picked the least-wrinkled shirt from the pile in his duffel bag, sniffed it and pulled it over his head.

  In the bathroom, he checked his teeth before turning off the light and heading down the stairs.

  I’ve lost my mind.

  First of all, the woman’s blind and wouldn’t notice if I walked in there naked. Second, her boyfriend’s going to kick my ass once he realizes I’m flirting with her.

  Now he needed to stop staring at her. Tall and muscular, with curves in all the right places, and with that ass…

  I’m fucked.

  With a deep breath, he opened the front door and made his way across the lawn. Unless they were of the one-night-stand persuasion, Gabe didn’t have time for women. And nothing about the woman who had taken the leading role in his nightly erotic dreams indicated she leaned the way he’d like. Which was exactly why he tried his best to stay away, but something about her kept pulling at him, invading his attention, his thoughts.

  Every evening at six thirty, when she and her horse of a dog ventured out for their jog, Gabe found himself outdoors for one reason or another to watch. It took him a few Lauren sightings to realize she was blind. The harness on the dog should have been clue enough, but he had been too busy admiring other things to notice. Her short jogging shorts, form-fitting shirts, and the way her thighs and glutes flexed when she walked were way too important to ignore. Las
t week, when he waved and she walked past, oblivious to him, the faulty light switch in his head finally turned on. Stunned, Gabe dropped his electric drill, barely missing his foot in the process.

  To the unsuspecting eye, her walks seemed casual, uncalculated. In reality, every move she made was precise, deliberate. Twenty-seven steps straight down her lawn, a graceful right turn, eighty-two paces down the street before she turned and disappeared. Paced. Measured. Fascinating.

  He had been in complete control of his senses until he found her standing outside his back door yesterday. The big fake smile on her face. Those little dimples that formed in her cheeks. The way her green eyes crinkled at the corners. His ability for logical thought ceased and another part of him took over—the part hungry to strip her naked and find out if her other cheeks were dimpled too.

  Arms crossed and chin tilted, she kept her bogus grin plastered on her face. The woman wanted a fight and damned if he wasn’t ready to give her one, but not the kind her pretty little brain expected. The more Gabe flirted, the deeper she blushed. By the time he shut the door, he knew he’d need to investigate how many of her delicious parts turned the rosy hue.

  Now, in front of Lauren’s house, he considered turning back but didn’t. After yesterday, walking away from this one was no longer an option. Her dog barked, alerting everyone to his arrival. Gabe shook off his not-so-pure thoughts and knocked.

  The deadbolt turned and when the door opened, her friend Sunny appeared. Lauren’s dog pushed past the pretty blonde’s leg, wagging his tail. After a thorough smell down of Gabe’s hands, feet and crotch, he barked and walked back inside.

  Sunny stepped aside and waved Gabe in. “It seems, you’ve passed the security check.”

  He let out the breath he had been holding. “I was a little worried for a second.”

  The door led into an open living room, connected to the kitchen where Lauren stood. Expensive, dark hardwood covered the floor, and the walls were painted a pale brown. Furnished with light-colored sofas and armchairs, the place was bright and clean. Like he had imagined, their houses were set up exactly the same but flipped.