Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series)

by Brannon, M. S.

  “The night you came into town. After we got home from the bar, we had a pretty incredible night and I made him… you know… without a condom.”

  And there it is. I recognize the look of terror in her eyes.

  When Marybeth had a pregnancy scare a few months ago, I saw that same look in her eyes. Marybeth and I were raised a certain way and having sex before you were married is the ultimate sin; well, in our mothers’ eyes it is. They are cut from the same cloth, being twins and all, but they are exactly the same; both married men our grandparents approved of, live the life of a rich doctor’s wife, and are very active in the charity world along with being uptight snobs. Although Marybeth is known to be a little loose, she is her mother’s daughter.

  Aunt Laura is worse than my own mother, which is hard to believe. She’ll treat anyone of a lower social status or different appearance like they’ve been diagnosed with the black plague. I, on the other hand, refuse to treat people unfairly because of what they look like or how much money they have in their pockets, but Marybeth, not so much.

  I volunteer to go to the drug store to get a pregnancy test, although I already know it’s going to be positive. I pull down the street as I think about how devastating this will be for Presley. She’s struggled her entire life with change and has a tendency to pull herself inward, battling her pain on her own. When it becomes too much, then she will collapse and I’m afraid one of these days no one will be there to help her back up. Drake is going to have to be her rock during her pregnancy and after the baby is born. I have no doubts in his devotion to Presley, I’m just scared she’s not going to let him in.

  After I purchase the test, I make my way back to the house and tuck the brown paper bag under my arm as I head up the stairs. Jake is coming up from the basement, looking a little ill himself. For a second, I think he may have the flu as horrible as he looks, though, when I get a whiff of whiskey coming off his skin, I can tell it’s responsible for his appearance this morning. I don’t bother saying anything to him; I learned that lesson the hard way.

  A few days ago, I commented on how much he drinks and he bit my head off, calling me every name in the book. I still don’t think I can have a conversation with him without wanting to smack him in the face, despite our J&D adventures. He can bring out the most villainous side of me and it’s scary. I do want to be his friend, and I am curious more than I should be about why he is the way he is, but he makes me so angry. Most times, I don’t bother asking.

  I pass him and head back down to the bedroom where I tell Presley what to do and she heads off to the bathroom to pee on the stick. Now we wait.

  Presley is pacing the room, biting her nails, desperately praying she’s not pregnant. I pick up the instructions and start reading aloud. All I want to do is try and distract her mind, but when the timer goes off, I have to tell her it will be okay. No matter what happens or what she decides, it will all be okay. I try so hard to keep my own tears from falling down my face as I grab her hands in mine and yank her trembling body into me.

  “Whatever it says, whatever you decide to do, I will support you, okay? You’re my best friend and I will be there for you no matter what.”

  Then, as I predicted, she collapses to the floor, devastated by the truth. All I can do is hold her as tightly as I can. The tears are soaking my shirt and the rumbling of her sobs are making my body shake. I hold her for several minutes then usher Presley into bed. I stay with her until her breaths are even and she’s in a deep sleep, then I fold my hands together and say a little prayer to protect my friend and help her find her way. Afterward, I leave her to sleep as the fear for my best friend’s life starts to weight on my conscience.

  ***

  Joanna finishes cleaning up the lunch tables in the room while I get the kids ready to lie down for nap. I’ve been working for a few weeks at the shelter and I absolutely love it. Maggie has been right from day one when she said all the kids want and need is love.

  From the moment I first sat on the carpet with them, I immediately started showing them what it was like to be loved. I gave the kids turns sitting in my lap while I read them stories, we made art activities and I made sure I tucked each one in at nap time before I left for the day.

  Per my internship guidelines, Maggie is only allowed to have me working five hours a day, and since she’s weak on staff in the mornings, I have to leave at naptime. If I could, I’d be here all day. I adore these kids very much. I love being here every day and will really miss the kids when I leave.

  I’ve also been taking turns helping in the infant rooms, getting some experience with the babies so I can help Presley, if that is her choice. She still hasn’t said anything to Drake, but what I don’t get is why. He will be a great dad and he loves Presley more than life itself, so why wouldn’t you want him to father your children? Granted, they are young, yet with the love and support of this family unit, I can’t help thinking everything will be fine. They will love the baby as much as they love the rest of the family.

  After I tuck the kids in and give them each a kiss on the top of their heads, I make my way out into the hot summer sun. The drive home is short and I am tired from the night before when Jake came home at three o’clock in the morning reeking of booze and perfume. I know this because he stumbled into my room and passed out.

  I was awoken out of sleep when my door creaked open and a body flopped down next to me. Startled, I popped up in bed, ready to slug this stranger in the face when I got a glimpse of his tattoos staring back at me. Half of Jake’s shirt was off, pants partially undone, and one sock was missing from his foot. It looked like he was trying to undress and got tired in the process. He was flopped lying on his back with his arms slung over his face.

  I was more than uncomfortable. I’d never lain in a bed with a guy, not even Emerson, and God knows I’d never done more than kiss a guy. It did give me a chance to study what he looked like under his tough, bad boy exterior, though.

  Although he’s nearly impossible to deal with, I can’t get him out of my head. He isn’t afraid to push my boundaries and is the only one who can understand the thoughts in my head.

  Looking down at his chest, it matched his arms painted in tattoos. Jake’s chest is broad, hard… flawless actually. Emerson is very lean and has muscle, but there is not definition; well, not like Jake’s anyway. His lips were full and looked inviting. I needed to get him out of there.

  I tried to wake him by poking him in the chest then tapping his face, but he just mumbled unrecognizable words. Then he did something so unexpected; he rolled over to his side, grabbing me in the process. I was wrapped up in his arms, my chest against his. I was alarmed and calm all at the same time. It was unnerving.

  After I arrive at the house, I shake my head of thoughts of last night and run into Presley. She looks nice and is wearing makeup, something she hasn’t done since finding out she’s pregnant. I stop in my tracks once I look into her eyes. I know where she is going.

  She hasn’t really talked to me since she found out she’s pregnant, therefore she hasn’t told me what she is going to do. I still don’t think she’s said anything to Drake, which is wrong. I practically beg her to not to go to the clinic. She is losing so much and doesn’t even realize how horrific her decision will be.

  Then she throws the you’re the only person I can count on card in my face and my hands are tied. I won’t betray her. I can’t because I am the only person she has now. If this is her choice, I have to respect it. I don’t have to agree with it, but I do have to respect it. That’s what best friends do, however I can’t shake the idea that she is making a terrible decision.

  My head is flooded with doubts and fears, coupled with the confusing night I spent wrapped in Jake’s drunken arms. Everything my mother has warned me about is flooding my rational thoughts and I’m feeling a little out of my element. I need to escape and take advantage of the hot summer sun.

  I walk back to my room and change into my white bikini, grab a to
wel, tanning oil and my iPod, then head toward the backyard.

  Jake

  When I wake up in the morning, I feel at peace for once in my miserable life. It’s short lived because I soon realize I’m tangled up with someone else. I crack open my eye, instantly regretting it when the sun slices up my retinas. Then I raise my head that is covered in long blonde hair. I don’t remember how the hell I got from the redhead’s house and I sure as hell don’t know where I’m at now.

  Lying my head back down on the pillow, I try to think and don’t recall ever picking up a blonde. This will be the first time I’ve slept in bed with another girl. This is not my style; I never bag them in a bed. It’s too intimate and romantic. I’d prefer to press them up against a wall or bend them over the arm of the couch. I must have been out of my mind wasted. How the hell am I going to get out of this one?

  I lift my head again and a slight moan comes from the girl sleeping next to me. Our arms and legs are tangled like pretzels. When I open both my eyes, I get a good look as to where I’m at and know immediately it’s Delilah attached to me. What the hell did I do last night?

  I look down at myself, half-dressed with only my jeans, one sock and my arm half way out of my shirt. I look over at Delilah and she’s dressed, as well, in pajama shorts and a tank top. Being the guy I am, I take a moment to stare at the bottom part of her ass peeking out of her shorts. God, she is so unbelievably hot. I can feel the monster stir in my pants, which is my invitation to get the fuck out before she wakes up.

  As swiftly as possible, I peel my arm out from under her head and flop onto the floor. The loud thud causes me to freeze and look up at Delilah, confirming she’s still asleep. I tip-toe over to the door before taking in another glance of Delilah’s fine body, then make my way down the hall.

  With each step, I find traces of my clothing; my boots and missing sock trail down the hallway. I must have been so drunk last night that I thought I was going to my room when actually I ended up in bed with Delilah.

  I snag a soda from the fridge and trudge downstairs then flop on my bed. I can’t think about last night right now, not with the killer pain throbbing in my skull. I shut my eyes and drift off into a deep sleep, smelling Delilah’s lavender scent all over me.

  ***

  A few hours later, Reggie’s phone call wakes me up. He basically insists that if I don’t go down to the bar and help hang up the new flat screens he will beat the fuck out of me. So I tell him I am on my way and make my way upstairs.

  I need to get some food into my dying stomach. It’s held nothing except whiskey for the last twelve hours. It’s become absolutely dire that I consume something of substance.

  When I arrive to the top of the stairs, Drake is making his usual sandwich and it makes my mouth water. I let out a giant yawn and ask, “Hey, man, what are you doing home so early?”

  That fucker works harder than anyone I’ve ever known. Even Reggie doesn’t work as hard as Drake does, pulling fourteen to sixteen hour days in a hot, glass box. I would kill myself if I ever had to work that hard.

  “There was a fire at the plant so they sent everyone home for the day.” The sandwich he’s making looks so fucking good, I want to rip it from his hands and devour it myself.

  “That’s cool. Do you want to go down to the bar with me? Reggie is installing new flat screens and wants some help.” I stop drooling long enough to make myself a turkey sandwich then take the biggest bite I can while Drake looks at me like I’m a pig. What else is new?

  “Nah. I’m going to spend some time with Presley this afternoon. It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out by ourselves, especially since Delilah moved in. She seems to spend a lot of time with her during the day.”

  “Okay, I didn’t really need to know you plan on banging your chick all day… seriously, bro. But I am sorry she’s holding out on you, man.” Right there is a prime example of why you don’t get in a committed relationship. Unlike my brother, whenever I’m dying to be with someone, I just walk into The Slab and pick one up; it’s as simple as that. God I love my life. I have no fucking drama when it comes to women and I can be with anyone that I want. It’s awesome.

  “When I’m home, I hardly see Delilah and Presley together. She always seems to be in your room listening to depressing fucking music.” I’m not sure what’s going on with Presley, but her music is enough to make me want to kill myself. Maybe she’s pissed about me hanging out with Delilah so much. Then again, Presley is never around Delilah. She’s always in her room. Don’t ask me, I don’t have a fucking clue.

  When Drake mentions Delilah’s name I think back to how hot she looked this morning in her little booty shorts. It just about killed me—dead. “Speaking of Delilah, where’s my little cupcake at? I’m in the mood to have a little fun.”

  “Man, why are you always trying to piss her off? She’s going to kick you square in the nuts one of these days.”

  Drake has no fucking clue what’s going on between Delilah and me. Granted, I told her I would lay off the flirty comments and I have, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop winning her over with my Jake Evans charm.

  “Because it’s fun, and besides, we don’t always fight. We’ve made a pact; she’s supposed to allow me to show her how fun Sulfur Heights is and I promised I would lay off on the flirting. As a matter of fact, we have rather normal conversations. Like the other night for example.”

  My stomach can no longer handle it; I tear into my sandwich and catch the Mountain Dew Drake flings at me. There’s something wonderful about chugging an ice cold soda first thing when you wake up. I love how the carbonation burns down my throat. Reggie drinks a pot of coffee in the morning and I guzzle down Mountain Dew.

  I slam almost all of it then let out a small burp. “She was talking about Memphis, her friends and parents, and I didn’t say one smart ass comment. I can’t tell you anything she said, really, because her tits were barely peeking out of her shirt and distracted me, but I kept my promise and didn’t do or say anything inappropriate.” That was a rather proud moment in my life. A hard-earned, proud moment.

  “She’s in the backyard sun tanning.”

  Did he just say what I think he said? Delilah has been bitching about getting pale and that she needed to tan. I assumed she would go to one of those fake tanning beds, but clearly that is not what she’s had in mind. “Holy. Shit! Is she wearing a bikini? So help me God, that woman is going to fucking kill me. She’s so fucking hot. It’s too bad she drives me so fucking insane every time she speaks.” Drake needs not to say another damn word. What is sexier than Delilah in a bikini? An angry Delilah wearing a wet bikini while trying to be pissed at me. Oh, yes, today is going to be a good day.

  I move to the cupboard and pull out the plastic pitcher located at the back and fill it with cold water. She’s going to flip her shit when I dump this on her and I can’t freaking wait.

  “You know you’re asking for it.”

  I shut the water off and make my way over to the back door as I say, “Yeah, that’s the point, brother.”

  It’s hot as fuck outside and this will piss her off. She will be shitting nails for a week.

  I lean over the deck and hold the pitcher of cold water over the rail. I need to get my aim just right so the majority of water hits her square in the chest and stomach. I take a moment to look at her lying there in a white bikini. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better swimsuit for her to wear, either. She looks like a goddess as her long, blonde hair lightly blows to the side. I tip the pitcher over.

  Bull’s eye!

  Then I watch as Delilah glares at me as she screams my name.

  “I’m going to kill you!” She’s screaming as she jumps from the lounger and starts flying up the back steps. I’ve changed my mind; what’s the hottest is an angry Delilah in a wet bikini running up stairs! It’s so funny and sexy that I can hardly breathe.

  She starts pelting me with her magazine, but there is nothing I can do to protect myself. I am laughing
so hard I’m practically dying of suffocation. “I just hate you, Jake Evans!”

  We manage to make it inside the kitchen where there is a look of wickedness in her eyes. If I know anything about this woman, it’s that she harbors a devilish side to her and I love it when I can bring it out.

  She starts stalking toward me with her body wet and so sexy that I’m thrown completely off guard when she looks at me like she’s ready to slam me into the cupboard. I lean back against the sink and watch this seductress walk my way. Delilah pushes her wet body against mine, her face is inches from mine. I start to get hard in my boxers and I can’t believe we are finally going to go there. I’ve been working on her for a long time, and I’m certain that as soon as I have sex with her, she will be out of my mind. For good.

  She brings her arm around, almost pinning me to the counter. “You like that, don’t you? When I’m close to you?”

  I nod, literally unable to form words, looking like a real chump right now.

  “Oh, well, let me help you with that.” Then the faucet comes on and she’s spraying my head with water. Her southern drawl sounds ridiculous as she laughs uncontrollably while my head and wife beater are getting soaked.

  So she wants to play hardball. I can definitely do hardball. I snatch the sprayer out of her hands, which prompts her to screech and bolt down the back steps. Damn, that ass looks magnificent in bikini bottoms. I’ve said it a hundred times and I will keep saying it; that woman is going to kill me.

  I fly down the back stairs behind her as she runs to the backyard, going right for the hose. I run over to her and grab onto the hose. She’s got a tight grip on the end, but I manage to snag it from her hands. Walking to the spicket, I attach the sprayer and turn the water on full-blast, making it shoot out in a jet stream.

  “Jake! Don’t you dare!”

  “What’s the matter, cupcake?” When I press against the nozzle and soak her in the stomach, she screams and starts to run, then I pursue. I’m not sure why she’s running. It’s not like she’s not already wet from me dumping water on her.