Blind Seduction (8 page)

Red had a hard time understanding why the drunk
considered me inferior when he was obviously not worthy of me (I
love my dog). I smelled good and healthy; by Red’s standards, this
meant I would be potential mate material. Well, if I was a dog.

Completely unaware of how much I needed the emotional
lift, Red reminded me Alpha, at the restaurant, had found me
attractive. I had to explain to Red, once Alpha had gotten as close
as the drunk and saw I was flawed, he might have had the same
reaction. The key difference was, being more self-assured and
respectful, he possibly would have hidden it better.

“
He had a good look at you, Teresa. He was staring
right into your face the whole time he was checking me over. The
more he looked, the stronger the signals,”
Red insisted.
“His body language, words, posture, and scent said the same
thing. He found you worthy.”

I was happier as we rode the bus home and felt better
prepared to face post-date Ken and Janey.

Ohh gawd. I returned to not only post-date Ken and
Janey; but more accurately post-
coital
-date Ken and Janey.
It was painfully pathetic to watch the two of them hang all over
each other... well, “watch them” metaphorically speaking, of
course.

It was lust spiraled terribly out of control. Sad
really. My best friend and her un-gay boy toy were as smoochy, and
as all over each other, as I warned Cat they would be. I was still
having a rough time getting over the concept of Ken being straight,
and plotting my revenge. Now I needed to get comfortable with him
having carnal knowledge of my best friend. They probably thought
they were being subtle with all their lovey-doveyness; they
seriously underestimated how great my hearing was after the eight
months of sensory shift from visual to audio.

The two of them surfaced long enough to comment about
my new shorter haircut. I ended up chopping off almost two feet of
hair (which I felt wonderful about donating toward wigs for cancer
patients). So, it now swung in a loose curtain around my face.
Cyndi assured me the long bangs and chin-length cut swung forward,
concealing my face when I tilted my head down a touch. Hiding, I
know; after last night, I needed the camouflage and a big floppy
hat wasn't gonna happen.

Ken said it looked great. Of course he did, he was
not only my friend, but a paid employee. Janey, on the other hand,
was practically in tears. “Janey, it’s only hair for goodness
sakes. It will grow back.”

“But it’s so short! And it covers your face. I can't
see anything but your sunglasses anymore!”

Obviously my goal had been reached. I gave myself a
mental pat on the back for a job well done. “It’s easier to take
care of now,” I soothed. “What’s the use of long hair when I always
kept it pulled back or pinned up?”

“Oh my god! You cut off your nails, too?” Janey
wailed. The way she was carrying on, you’d think I hacked the heads
off the pirate bears collection.

I couldn’t resist teasing her. “It’s a good thing you
can't see the skull and crossbones tattoo over my right ass cheek.
I thought I might as well go all out on the make-over.”

Ken snorted his coffee. At least, that's my best
guess at what the muffled sound was. Janey was silent. It started
as a soft giggle, then Janey laughed, and the stress of the room
dropped dramatically.

In a quieter, but determined voice, she asked, “What
happened? You love your nails. You love your long hair.”

Ah, the downside of a long-lasting friendship is
eventually your friends know you exceptionally well. I gave an
edited version of last night's disturbance, and I told Janey I
didn't feel comfortable with my face exposed. Janey started to cry
and got all clingy. Silly limpet.

Eventually, Janey sniffled herself into a relative
calm and told me the cut looked very nice and she was sorry she'd
gotten all upset. Uh huh... I amended her description to silly
lying limpet, but let it go. She was trying to be supportive.

Ken made a nice meal of spaghetti and French bread,
and we broached the subject of newly revised assistant hours. Ken
agreed I didn't need him at the house twenty-four hours a day
anymore. I was comfortable getting around, and I now had Red for
company and support. Over dinner, we devised a new schedule,
reducing his availability: nine in the morning to six at night,
five nights a week. He still had a room at the house, but now had
weekends off to correspond with Janey's schedule. It was agreed
they would play (aka: have crazy monkey sex) at Janey's place where
they would have privacy and I wouldn't be subjected to Janey's
tears if he were having problems performing his studly duties. That
earned a threat to have my bed short-sheeted next laundry day.
Yeah, whatever.

Feeling overfull with pasta and garlic bread, we all
sat on the couch for movie night. Movie night at my house was a
random evening where the sound is turned off on the TV. Janey and
Ken take turns making up dialog and strange voices to describe the
action. Tonight was a B-Movie spaghetti western (not an accidental
choice considering dinner). Ken was cracking us all up by trying to
find different lines to describe every time Clint Eastwood squinted
into the camera. Eye actions ranged from a fierce “I wanna kill
something” squint, to an evil “I'm gonna bust yer ass” squint, to a
“Hey baby, yer kinda sexy—wanna screw up against a water tower?”
squint.

After dinner, I sat at the table with a slice of
cheesecake and a mug of Seattle's Best coffee. Red had fallen
asleep during the movie but was awake now, and chewing on a furry
bone. The toy box he pulled it from was Janey's idea; teach a dog
these are the things you can play with.

I was contemplating if I wanted to try taking dance
lessons at one of the studios in the area in an effort to ignore
the activity on the couch. My patience finally ran out after about
thirty minutes of whispered innuendos and stolen, lingering kisses.
Yep, I was jealous, but sheesh, I was trying to drink my coffee and
carry on a conversation with myself.

“Ken, can you drag my friend out of here? By the hair
if necessary. You two are not as quiet as you think you are,” I
informed them. “I heard a zipper being lowered, and I don't want
you two fooling around on my couch.”

After much good-natured ribbing, and thankfully, the
sound of a zipper being reversed, my two friends left me in blessed
peace.

** Morning, Friday – July 11
^th
**

I rolled over in bed, groping wildly for my phone,
which insisted
Girls Just Wanna Have Fu-uuunn
... “Arrgg,
what time is it? The only acceptable way to wake me is with
coffee.”

“No problem! I can arrange coffee,” Janey chirped,
clearly having already had some herself. “And it is seven-sixteen
a.m., lazy bones. Happy Friday! Rise and shine!”

“What are you so perky about this morning?”

“Bas is here. We are going to breakfast and swinging
by to pick you up on the way. Be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, you are
so
not dragging me out anywhere
with your brother,” I protested. “Red and I had a nice mellow day
yesterday. I am not going to let those two hours relaxing in a hot
tub be wasted.” A leisurely yawn escaped before I snuggled back
down under the covers. “You guys have fun. I am sleeping... ” I let
loose with a loud, very fake, snore. “I'm going back to bed now.
Bye.”

“Don't you dare hang up! We will be there in a
quarter-hour, whether you are dressed or not,” Janey threatened.
“It’s time you two tried to make nice.”

Without another word, she hung up. Glaring toward the
phone in my hand, I was stunned
she
hung up on me, after
specifically telling
me
not to hang up. Crap! I did not want
to go anywhere near Bas the Ass.

With a sigh, I reluctantly swung my legs over the
side of the bed. It appears I was going to have to get dressed and
let my friend, no… no… definitely fiend today, take me to
breakfast.

“Red, come on downstairs so you can go outside. We
have company coming over.” I let him out into the backyard while I
returned to my room upstairs. Dressing was easy: appropriate
underwear, jeans, random t-shirt, and sneakers. I ran a quick brush
through my hair and used some of the product Cyndi gave me to keep
my new-do under control and smoothed down. Teeth cleaned and I was
ready to go.

I was on the stairs when the front door opened and
Ken announced himself. “I've been elected to come get you. There
are five of us, so we don't have room for Red. I'll be your guide
dog for the morning. Woof woof!”

“Oh joy,” I told him. “I’d better put a couple
biscuits for you in my coat pocket. Speaking of coats, how is the
weather?”

“Typical July. Sunny; a lot like your disposition
this morning.”

“Ha ha,” I replied wittily. “Let me check with Red.
I'll see if he wants to stay outside or come in.”

Red decided to stay out and enjoy the morning. As Ken
led me to the car, I promised myself this fiasco would all be over
in a couple hours. I could go back to avoiding Bas the Ass for
another decade. At the curb, Ken told me we were taking Janey’s
SUV, and I was to slide into the center of her backseat.

“Holy shit!” Bas' voice near my ear let me know he
was standing outside the car, likely in order to facilitate my
sliding in. “You cut your hair off!”

“Hey Bas, nice to see you too.” Ignoring the comment
about my hair, I ducked past Bas, with Ken's assistance, and slid
quickly into the back seat.

I was completely unprepared when my hand connected
with a rock hard thigh. Startled, I lost my balance and would have
fallen forward except for the hand reaching out to steady me. “Oh
gosh, I'm so sorry, I hadn't realized there was someone else here—I
mean Ken said there were five of us, but—“

“No problem,” the unidentified male chuckled with
smooth masculine confidence, politely interrupting my rambling
apology. Unbidden, my conversation with Red came to mind, and I
fought the urge to take a deep sniff. “Although, a woman has
usually bought me a drink, and asked my name, before she’s
comfortable enough to feel me up.”

Thoroughly embarrassed, I sat down and faced the
front seat, bowing my head so my hair could swing forward to cover
my face. I liked this hair cut more and more. Screwing my eyes
tightly closed, I took a breath, through my mouth, before asking in
a low voice, “Could you please tell me if my seatbelt is to the
right or left of me? I'm sure Bas will get impatient if he has to
wait.”

Bas' voice was close to my right ear. “I'm in no
rush. More than happy to wait on a woman.” He touched my hand, and
I'll admit I flinched away from him. My dislike was more deeply
ingrained than I remembered. “I was going to put your hand on the
buckle,” he growled. His voice was a mixture of sex and menace.
God, I needed to grow a backbone.

“Is it beside my leg?” I asked quietly, tentatively
laying my hand on the seat beside me. I was pretty sure I hadn't
felt his body move fully into the vehicle, so I wasn't worried
about groping him like I had his friend. He didn't bother answering
when he saw I found the belt and carried it over my lap.

My hand stopped mid-movement, unsure of how I would
get it buckled without inappropriately brushing my hand against the
other passenger's hip. In the same quiet voice I'd used with Bas, I
said with at attempt at teasing humor, “May I ask for your
assistance in buckling the clasp? I feel I have already gotten too
familiar considering I haven't even learned your name yet.”

“I'm David,” came an answering chuckle, “and happy to
help.” The buckle was removed from my fingers, and with a light
tug, clipped into place beside me.

“Saint Teresa, you're still so goddamned courteous,”
Bas mocked as he slid in and rudely bumped my leg. He had no
problem touching me as he secured his seat belt. I don't think I
imagined the extra little caress against my hip. The Ass.

I felt stiff and uncomfortable sandwiched between the
two large men. I already knew Bas was a tall guy, and it felt as if
his friend David was also big and imposing (especially if his hard
thigh was any indication). I kicked myself when I reflexively
tucked my arms across my body; a futile attempt to avoid touching
either of them.

Bastian, not known for subtlety, “So what's with the
hair? It’s always been long. Why’d you hack it off?” His voice was
combative, like I'd done something wrong and he was planning on
arguing about it.

From the front seat, Janey intervened. “She cut it a
couple days ago. Some asshole the other night made a
comment...”

“Janey!” I snapped, sharply.

“But...” she tried to continue.

“Janey! Just drop it. Please,” I added in
afterthought. I knew I was being rude. I couldn't help it. This was
Bas the Ass, and I was NOT going to give him ammunition to torment
me. “I wanted it short. I cut it. End of story.” My words were
crisp and I expected no more comments on my hair.

“And what's with your nails?” he continued, gruffly.
“You've always had those claw things done in funky colors.”