Sosie sat in her chair sipping Chardonnay and listening to the surrounding conversations. If she could see, she would have sworn the light changed and a dark cloud hovered over their table.
“Care to introduce me to your girl?” A deep voice sounded from her left.
She had no idea what her facial expression implied, but hoped it was shock and surprise.
“His girl?” She laughed. “First of all, I’m thirty, so I’m a woman. Second, I belong to no one.” She picked up her glass of wine and emptied it, then moved to the second glass. “Who are you?”
The air shifted around her, and the scent of spicy cologne burned her nostrils. The seat to her right scraped against the floor when someone pulled it out, and whoever stood to her left, now sat on her right.
“I’m Merrick Buchanan. I’m new in town.”
She twisted in her seat to follow his voice. “Hello, Merrick. I’m Sosie Grant, and I’m not interested.”
He chuckled. “I can see that. Just wanted to stop by and say hello.” There was a lull in the conversation. “You’re right, man, she’s not for me. I prefer my women to be kind of heart and spirit, but hey, if you like them prickly, good on you.”
Her jaw dropped open, but no words came out. After the grinding of chair legs against the floor, the air shifted again, and she knew he had left.
“Did you tell him I was your girlfriend?”
“Hell no. I have no use for a girlfriend.”
The strain caused by the narrowed eye expression made her forehead ache. “No use? What an asshole.”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that. You’re entitled to your opinion, but you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone else in town to call me that. I have three rules in my life.”
She held up her hand to interrupt him. “Let me guess. Don’t shop when you’re hungry, don’t date when you’re horny, and don’t update your status when you’re drunk?”
“You are prickly, but you’re wrong. My rules are, be kind to others, keep your promises, and speak the truth.”
“Okay, let’s test your rules. Are you angry because you’re forced to take me in?”
“No,” he said far too fast. “Not angry. I’m inconvenienced, annoyed, maybe even a bit put out, but anger isn’t an emotion I waste a lot of time on. It’s useless to be mad.”
“Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep, my bullshit meter is going off.”
“Then it’s defective because my thoughts on anger are this. It solves nothing, builds nothing, and destroys everything. Anger is one letter away from danger.”
“Oh, he spells,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
“He sits and dances too. He also needs to get up early for work, so drink up, it’s time to go if you want me to take you to the apartment.”
She felt bad for being flippant with him. She wasn’t normally so insolent, but losing her eyesight made her a lot more than blind. She was lost and sad and scared, and yes ... angry.
She drank the second glass of wine and stood. The room seemed to sway with the music playing on the jukebox. “Uh oh,” she gripped the table and held on. “I only had two glasses of wine, but I think I’m drunk.”
He moved toward her to steady her with his hands on her shoulders. “You had two with me, but how many did you have before I showed up?”
“Oh, right.” She raised her hand and lifted one finger and then two. “I’m definitely drunk.”
He groaned. “I don’t know how this works. Can you walk? Do I need to carry you?”
She gripped his arm and moved her hand up to touch his bicep. “With these muscles, you probably could carry me.”
“I know I could. You don’t weigh more than a bag of cement.”
She stepped back but lost her balance and fell forward into his arms. “How much does a bag of cement weigh?”
“Ninety-four pounds.”
“Well, I weigh more, but I’m probably easier to handle.”
“I doubt that. Shall we go?”
She lifted her purse to her shoulder and gripped his arm above his elbow. “Take me to bed or lose me forever,” she said.
“Top Gun fan, huh?”
“Loved that movie.”
He moved her through the crowd and out the door.
“Let’s get you into the apartment and into bed by yourself.”
They walked down the street to the end of the block, turned right twice, and stopped. She could feel the uneven asphalt beneath her feet. The gravelly edges poked into the bottom of the soft soles of her tennis shoes.
“The door to the building is the first one on your right. Unlock it and head straight upstairs where there’s a second door at the top landing. That’s the apartment door.”
She leaned into him. “Thanks for being my wingman.”
“You got it, Goose.” He counted the steps out loud as they walked up them. “Looks like fourteen.”
“I can do fourteen.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She heard the key slip into the lock, and the hinges squeak as the door swung open. He guided her inside and closed the door.
She breathed deeply. “What’s that smell?”
His body stiffened under her touch. “What smell?”
“It’s like heaven. There’s something sweet in the air like cinnamon and sugar.”
The tenseness disappeared. “We’re above the bakery. Just wait until morning when they bake the first batch of muffins. It’s almost torturous.”
Her stomach growled loudly, and she dropped her hands to her belly. “Shhh,” she said.
“Are you hungry?”
Her head nodded, even though she said, “No, I’m fine.” Her lie was drowned out by another loud grumble.
“Liar.”
She hung her head and frowned. “I don’t normally lie, but I also don’t want to be a problem.”
He put her hand back on his arm. Her fingers skated across a plush surface as they moved forward. When she turned to look at what she was touching, she swore the color blue danced past her eyes.
“You’re not a problem, just an—”
“Inconvenience. I know, and I’m sorry. I’m in a bit of a pickle.” She giggled.
He pulled out a chair and helped her into it. “I haven’t heard that saying in a while.”
“It’s stupid, right? I mean, who says things like that?”
“Apparently, you do.”
She heard him moving around the room, opening and closing cupboards.
“You have a few choices. I’ve got peanut butter and jelly, or I can make you toast and eggs, or there’s Cap'n Crunch cereal.”
She considered her options. “Peanut butter and jelly, please. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had that?” She bounced up and down in her chair like a kid.
“No idea, but by your exuberance, I’d say it’s been a while. Do you want strawberry or grape jelly?”
She licked her lips like she was tasting both. “Can I have half and half?”
He let out a huff, but she could tell he wasn’t all that put out. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“Just wait until tomorrow when I have a headache, and I’m crabby.”
“I won’t be here to notice.”
Her reality hit her like a brick to the head. “Right.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “Does anyone drive for Uber or Lyft here?”
“Nope.”
“If I had a car, that would be a great side job.”
He set the plate down in front of her with a thunk. “I’d say it would be a tough sell for you.”
“Haha, blind jokes. You’re a real comedian.”
“No, you are if you think anyone would get in a car with a blind driver.” He moved away, and the cold air whooshed past her when he opened the refrigerator. “How about a glass of milk?”
“I’d love one.”
“Milk at three o’clock.” He put a glass to the right of her plate and sat across from her. She didn’t know if he had a sandwi
ch, too, because the room was silent.
“How do you do it?” he asked.
“Do what?” She took a bite of her sandwich and hummed. It might have been the best thing she’d eaten in all her life.
“Be blind?”
She swallowed and took a drink. “It’s not like I had a choice.”
“Was it all at once or gradual?”
She considered the question. “I’d like to say it happened all at once, but there were signs I ignored. My vision got blurry, but I was working night and day on a project, and I put it off as fatigue. It was a perfect storm.”
He cleared his throat. “I heard you talking to your agent.”
“You mean you listened, as in eavesdropped?” Talk of her condition had a way of sobering her up fast.
“I did. Not much happens around town that’s all that exciting, and your story intrigues me.”
“There isn’t really a story. I was painting in the woods and got a tick bite. Turns out, the beast had Lyme disease. I got sick and tired, and the rest is history. I ended up with optic neuritis, which should have been temporary, but even with steroids and antibiotics, nothing returned to normal. After four months, the doctors said it was probably permanent.”
“Probably? That means there’s a chance it’s not, right?”
She shrugged. “I held on to hope, but it seems like the world is fresh out of miracles for me.” Her stomach twisted, and she was no longer hungry, but she ate the sandwich, anyway. Since Baxter had reluctantly helped her, she wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize her current reprieve.
“I heard Theresa say you were in the hospital or a facility of some type.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not crazy. I was hospitalized for the Lyme disease, and then when it was obvious I would stay blind, I went to San Francisco to LightHouse. It’s a program that helps with O and M or orientation and mobility. They taught me how to walk with a cane and use my other senses to compensate for the loss.”
“You seem to do okay.”
“I suck at it, but I’m sure as time passes, I’ll get better. I’m behind the curve because I was in denial but being left behind to figure it out is an eye-opener.”
“Looks like you figured it out.”
She shook her head. She had figured nothing out. “No, I just got lucky that Maisey took pity on me and found me a place to stay.”
“She’s a good woman. She’s my aunt, and she’s had a tough life too, so when she can make someone else’s easier, she does.”
Sosie hadn’t put it all together, but it made sense. Dalton was Maisey’s son, and his last name was Black. Baxter and Riley were Blacks.
“I don’t know why I didn’t put the pieces together.”
“It’s not like you don’t have anything else on your mind.”
She covered her mouth and yawned. “I should get to bed. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me, and it’s full of uncertainty.” She picked up her empty plate and glass. “Just guide me in the sink’s direction, and I’ll wash my dishes.”
He took them from her hands. “I’ve got these. There’s an entire sink filled with other dishes.” She heard him set the dishes down as he said, “Let me show you to your room.”
He placed her hand on his arm and walked her out of the kitchen and down what she thought was a hall. “This first room on the right is yours.” He walked forward a few more feet. “The bathroom sits between our bedrooms. I’m at the end of the hallway.”
She reached out and touched the doorframe leading into the bathroom. “Do you happen to have a T-shirt I can borrow to sleep in?” She stared down at her clothes out of habit. She couldn’t see anything, but it didn’t stop her from looking. “This is all I’ve got. I clearly didn’t think this was how my day would turn out. We were supposed to pack up the canvases and leave, but as you know, that didn’t quite happen.”
“Stay here for a minute.” Baxter left and was back before she could wonder where he’d gone. “Here’s a T-shirt and a pair of clean boxers if you want them. My sister used to steal my clothes to sleep in and said they were comfy.” He pressed them into her free hand. “Do you want to change in the bathroom, and I’ll wait here to guide you to your bed?”
It almost seemed comical. She’d thought about the last time she spent the night with a man. She wasn’t sure it would ever happen again, but even in her dreams, it didn’t start with a "hell no" and end with his T-shirt and underwear tucked under her arm.
“If you don’t mind, that would be good.”
“Sink is about six feet ahead and to your right. The shower is directly across from it.” He brushed past her, and she heard the toilet seat closing. “If you need to use the toilet, it’s in the alcove next to the shower. I’ve put the seat down, so you won’t fall in.”
He walked beside her, and she grabbed his arm, stopping him mid retreat.
“Thank you so much for being kind.”
“It costs nothing to be nice.” He touched her arm. “Oh, there’s toothpaste in the right-hand drawer. We can get a toothbrush tomorrow from the corner store, but for now, you’ll have to be creative.”
He walked out and shut the door behind him. She stood in the center of the bathroom for several seconds before she moved to the sink. Everything was exactly where he said. She did her best to brush her teeth with her finger and toothpaste. She washed her face and changed into his clothes. She swam in the shirt and had to roll the waistband of the boxers several times so they wouldn’t fall to the floor. Once she folded her clothes, she opened the door and waited.
“Are you here?”
“I am.” He stepped forward. “Is it okay that I place your arm on mine? I think I saw it in a movie once, and so I just assumed, but I shouldn’t have.”
She smelled his cologne. It was a heady mix of citrus and amber—a scent she always loved.
“That’s perfect. It puts me in control. To grab me and pull me is not good.”
“Okay.” He once again placed her hand on his arm and led her to the spare room. “This is yours. There’s a queen bed in the center of the room. It has nightstands on each side. Off to the right is a dresser, but I don’t know if there’s anything in there.” He moved her to the bed.
When she felt the mattress hit her knees, she turned and sat down, and then stood up. “I need my purse so I can plug in my phone.”
“Got it.” He left the room and returned with her bag. When she pulled out her phone and charger, he plugged it in and set it on the nightstand. “Okay, is there anything else I can get you?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” She was anything but fine. Her life was caught in a cyclone of despair, and she couldn’t escape the spin.
His lips touched the top of her head. The kind gesture almost undid her.
“Good night, Sosie. I hope tomorrow is better for you than today.” His footsteps echoed in the room, and the last thing she heard was the click of the light switch.
She was back in the dark. It was silly, but knowing the light was on comforted her.
Any relief she had was now gone. She was alone in a stranger’s house with little to no options. The reality of her dire situation brought tears to her eyes, and she pulled back the covers, climbed between the sheets, and cried.
Chapter Six
Baxter woke with a start, knowing something wasn’t right. It could have been that he didn’t get much sleep because he listened to Sosie whimper all night, and his nerves were on edge.
He flew out of bed at the scent of bacon. He didn’t bother to pull on pants, just rushed to the kitchen to make sure she wasn’t burning the house down.
“What the hell?”
She spun around, holding a spatula in her hand. He took her in from the top of her messy hair to the tips of her pink toenails.
“Good morning, Baxter.” She moved her hand along the counter until she stood in front of the coffeepot. Two cups sat in front. “Would you like coffee?”
He stared at her for
a minute, wondering if he hadn’t woken up, and this was part of a dream. When the grease popped in the pan, and she jumped back, he knew he was awake.
“Give me that before you hurt yourself.” He reached for the spatula. As his fingers touched the handle, she pulled it away. “I’m perfectly capable of cooking breakfast. There is no guarantee it’s edible, but I’m trying.” She wrapped her hand around one coffee mug and poured. Just as it neared the top, she stopped and did the same for the other cup.
“How are you doing that?”
She giggled. “I’d like to say it was practice that let me perfect my cooking, but I’ve only done this once before as a blind person. I’m hoping my success rate improves, given that I started the kitchen on fire the last time.” She turned her head toward him and smiled. “Just kidding.” She moved to the pan and flipped the bacon. “No, I’m not. I did start a fire, but it was because I let my shirt get too close to the flame.”
“Did you get hurt?”
“Just my pride, but if you listen to my agent, she’d tell you I have plenty to spare. Don’t let her fool you, though. I’m more of a fake it until you make it kind of girl.” She pointed to the table. “Have a seat.”
“I’ll be right back. I need to get dressed. Promise you won’t burn the place down while I’m gone?”
“Are you naked?” Her eyes opened wide.
“Umm, back in a second.” As he turned around, he heard her say something about him being a sight to see.
Once he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, he moved back toward the kitchen. When he got to the table, his breakfast was sitting there waiting. He had to give her credit because it looked damn good.
“Thank you, Sosie. You didn’t have to make me breakfast.”
She felt her way to the other side of the small table. “I know, but it would have been rude for me to cook for myself and not feed you. Especially since you made me a sandwich last night, and it’s your food.”
He was reticent to bring it up, but he had to make sure she was okay. “I heard you crying last night. I didn’t want to intrude, but are you okay?”
Her cheeks pinked. “I’m sorry. It’s silly really but,”—she rolled her beautiful eyes,—”believe it or not, I’m afraid of the dark.”
One Hundred Glances (An Aspen Cove Small Town Romance Book 14) Page 4