Good Karma

by Donya Lynne

  Mark seemed to have the same effect on men as he did on women, because both Daniel and Zach looked a little starstruck. They took turns shaking hands.

  “I’m glad to finally meet you, Daniel,” Mark said. “Karma’s told me a lot about you, and it seems I have you to thank for allowing me to meet her in the first place.”

  “Well, it wasn’t all my doing.” Daniel wrapped his arm around Zach’s waist. The gesture seemed as much a reassurance to Zach as it was a way of bringing him into the discussion. “If Zach hadn’t gotten sick, I never would have taken Karma to the benefit.”

  Mark bowed his head toward Zach. “Well, thank you for being sick…I guess.” He laughed and flashed Karma a glance before turning his attention back to Zach. “I hope it wasn’t too serious, though. You look fine now.”

  Zach practically swooned. “Oh yes, I’m fine. Thank you. It was just a touch of food poisoning.”

  Mark frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s never fun.”

  The three men talked among themselves a moment, and Lisa caught Karma’s eye with a smile so wide she was beaming. It was clear how much Lisa liked Mark.

  The five of them chatted a couple more minutes, and then Karma turned toward Mark and said playfully, “So, what are you doing here?”

  “Admiring the view.” He winked, and Karma’s face burned.

  The devil.

  “And that’s our cue to leave,” Lisa said, glancing between Daniel and Zach. “Now that we know Karma’s in good hands, our work here is done.” She patted Karma on the shoulder. “Go forth and have fun, my child.”

  “I’ll call you later,” Karma said.

  Lisa looked from Karma to Mark. “Make sure she does not call me later, okay? The girl needs to get her priorities straight.” She gave Karma a pointed look.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Mark met Karma’s gaze. “You heard the lady. No calling her tonight. You’re stuck with me all evening.”

  She liked how that sounded.

  “Care to take a walk with me to cool down?” he said once her friends were gone.

  “Sure.” She followed him out, dropped her bag in her car, and met him at the entrance to the trail that surrounded the property, which, at one time, had been a combination of farmland and wooded terrain. Now it served as a large recreational park.

  It was almost seven o’clock, but the sun was still hanging on, well above the horizon.

  A spring storm had rumbled through after lunch, leaving cool, crisp air in its wake, and now a breeze flowed out of the northwest as the remaining clouds cleared. Karma zipped up her hoodie against the slight chill in the air. Thin banks of high clouds striped the sky to the north and west, creating the start of what promised to be an impressive sunset, and moisture glistened the blades of fresh, young foliage that painted the landscape bright green. Puddles of water dotted the pavement.

  In spring, Clover lived up to its namesake. With its dense foliage and the conservation of green space, the city of Clover transformed into an emerald paradise every May.

  “I call this the perfect night,” she said. A gentle gust lifted the tendrils of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail.

  “What makes it perfect?”

  She held out her hands. “It’s the perfect temperature. Not too cold, not too hot. Cool enough for a jacket, but not cold. And there’s a nice breeze that makes everything feel alive. Makes me feel like I’m on the beach or something…just without the water, except after it rains, of course.” She gestured toward a puddle. “But that doesn’t count. And who doesn’t love a sky that gorgeous.” She pointed toward the peach-colored clouds that would eventually turn deep orange as the sun crept lower. “Perfect.” As if she had just described the definition of the word.

  “I see what you mean.” He walked alongside her, both of them silent for a bit, enjoying the evening. Then he said, “What happened to you today? At work? You disappeared for a while.”

  Karma’s gaze dropped to the pavement. She had hoped what had happened with Jolene wouldn’t come up tonight, but no such luck. “It was nothing.” She sighed. “I just had a little run-in with Jolene that upset me, but I’m better now.” She darted a cautious glance at him. “Jo and I go way back. I knew her in school, and we haven’t had the smoothest history.”

  Mark gave a slow, single nod. “I see. But everything got worked out?” He lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

  “I wouldn’t necessarily say that.” She smiled sheepishly. “But Lisa took me to lunch and helped give me some perspective.”

  “Well, I’m glad.” He slid his hand into hers, weaving their fingers around one another. The gesture made Karma’s heart do a little flip. “Lisa seems like a good friend.”

  “She is. The best.”

  About a quarter mile into their walk, they came to the ornate terra-cotta bridge that was the highlight of the trail around the property. It bowed above a gurgling creek, which had been fed by the earlier rain.

  Mark stopped and looked over the railing at the rushing water below. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since Tuesday. How have you been?”

  “Good.” She shyly averted her gaze, worried he would see in her eyes all the torrid thoughts she’d had about him the past few days, or that she had read every single Truth or Dare card from their game and pondered how she would have answered the questions that hadn’t been asked. Of course, the dares from the game had fed her fantasies. There were quite a few she hoped they could try someday.

  “I know I laid a lot on you,” he said, “and we haven’t seen each other for a couple of days. Do you have any more questions?”

  She looked at him and realized she did. “Just one.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why me?”

  They began walking again, leaving the romantic bridge behind.

  “Why not you?” His voice massaged the syllables the way his fingers took that moment to twine more securely between hers.

  She thought about that for a second then laughed when she couldn’t come up with an answer. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to attractive men asking me out. I’m more the girl guys like to hang out with, be friends with, but not date.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Being friends with a man is the perfect stepping-stone toward something more meaningful.”

  She laughed. “So far, that hasn’t happened.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  Mark seemed to like asking her questions that made her think, even when it sounded like he already knew the answer. She got the impression he would make an excellent teacher, because he had a way of making you figure things out without coming right out and telling you what the answers were.

  She considered his question then said, “Because until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t look or act like I wanted more?” She inflected as if asking a question instead of answering one. Just the way she’d done in school when she was called on in class. Maybe Mark really was a teacher.

  He smiled but didn’t speak.

  “I wasn’t putting out the right signals,” she said, elaborating. “I’ve enabled men to think that being friends was enough. That I would always be there…as a friend. I put my personal feelings aside to make them comfortable. Aaaannd...I didn’t take into consideration that men are visual creatures. I thought that if they really liked me I wouldn’t have to change my appearance. But…”

  “Yes?”

  “Men are visual. They see the wrapping paper before they see what’s in the package.”

  He barked out a laugh. “That’s a great analogy.”

  “Is it true?”

  After a short pause in which he seemed to think about it, he said, “More or less. You’re right. Men are very visual. Even I noticed your dress and how you looked before I noticed the little nuances of your character. And I like to think of myself as someone who looks past appearances at the person inside.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m not as unique as I’d like to think.”

  “Oh, you�
��re unique,” Karma said with a giggle.

  He glanced at her. “So are you.” He spoke with such conviction that she stopped laughing.

  She bit her bottom lip and averted her gaze. “I guess I’ve always just seen myself as average.” Lisa’s words at lunch still echoed in her thoughts, about how men saw her differently now. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea that maybe she wasn’t so average after all.

  “Average is underrated.”

  “Most men would disagree with you.”

  “I’m not like most men.” He squeezed her hand. “And I happen to think you’re not average at all. In fact, I think you’re pretty extraordinary.”

  The trail led them into a grove of tall, full trees.

  Karma gazed up at the bright-green canopy. “Before I met you, I would never have considered myself your type.”

  “And what do you think is ‘my type’?”

  “Oh, modelesque, tall, blond, beautiful—”

  Mark stopped so suddenly that what she was about to say caught in her throat. He backed her against the trunk of a silver maple hidden in the shadows and took her face in his hands, gazing intently into her eyes. “Karma, you are all those things…and more.”

  “But—”

  “Ssshh.” He let go of her face, took her hand, and settled it between his legs.

  Her eyes popped open and she sucked in her breath. He was hard. Not fully erect, but definitely hard. Because of her? Did simply being with her arouse him that much?

  “I can assure you, you are my type.” He held her hand against him for several seconds, revealing nothing in his expression except the gravitas of sincerity. Dignified and intense, his eyes searched hers for any doubt she didn’t believe him. His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You…are…my…type. Are we clear on that?” He arched one brow as the corner of his mouth lifted seductively.

  Awareness connected him to her like a tether. This was real. In that moment, all her doubts vanished. “Yes,” she said quietly.

  He gently pushed her hand away, curled his fingers around hers once more, cleared his throat, and moved as easily as the breeze as he pulled her back onto the trail.

  He seemed to know her scrambled mind needed a minute to collect itself, because they walked in silence for a while. His hand felt good around hers. His fingers were thick and strong, with smooth callouses at the bases. Probably from lifting weights. She liked his warm, firm hands. They made her feel secure.

  What kind of life had Mark led? What of his love life? He had hinted at his past, but they had never discussed it. At least not beyond the superficial, surface stuff.

  Mark’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he retrieved it with his free hand then smiled at the screen.

  “What?”

  He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Oh, just a little surprise.”

  The way he said it implied it was a surprise for her. “What kind of surprise?”

  He laughed. “One that will definitely turn your face red.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Which I love, by the way. You’re such an obedient blusher.” He tugged her toward the parking lot and picked up his pace. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  He paused, looking much too pleased with himself. “When you get home, you’re going to have a couple of packages waiting for you.”

  “Packages? For me?”

  He nodded. “Yes, but don’t open them until I get there. Promise?” The wicked glint in his eye made her wonder what exactly she had waiting on her doorstep.

  * * *

  After parking her car, Karma rushed inside and up the stairs to her apartment. Just as Mark had promised, two boxes sat outside her door. One from Amazon and one from a company called Cārvāka.

  Cārvāka? She had never heard of it.

  She unlocked her door, carried the boxes inside, and set them on the dining room table, where she studied them as if doing so would somehow reveal their contents.

  Amazon could be anything, but Cārvāka?

  She tugged her tablet from her bag and set out to see if she could get any hints from their website.

  A chill zipped down her spine and her eyes flew wide as soon as Cārvāka’s page loaded.

  Sex toys. Mostly glass dildos. But they sold other items, too.

  What the hell was inside that box? Being that she couldn’t open it until Mark arrived, all she could do was stare. And not just stare, but S-T-A-R-E. As if the top would fly open and an army of Chuckie dolls would burst out wielding tiny sex toys instead of knives.

  But then the fascination crept in, and she turned back to the website. She had never played with sex toys, never owned a vibrator or a dildo or…anal beads? She blinked at the strand of beads that popped up on the rotating window on the site’s home page.

  Did Mark use this stuff? Better yet, did he want her to use it?

  With a rushed check of the time, she realized she needed to get cleaned up. After taking a lightning-fast shower, she briskly dried her hair and pulled it into a damp ponytail before brushing on a bit of face powder and blush. She was just whipping on a touch of mascara when a knock came at her door. She shut off the bathroom light and dashed into the living room with a furtive glance toward the mystery boxes.

  “Hi,” she said, standing aside so he could come in.

  “Hi.” Mark kissed her cheek, catching her off guard, and carried in a bag from Café Nine. His dark hair was still damp, and he smelled faintly of Irish Spring, the same soap her dad used. “Ah, there they are.” He spied the boxes. “You didn’t peek?”

  “No.” Technically, she hadn’t peeked. Just investigated. But now she was more curious than ever about what he had bought her. “Can you give me a hint?”

  “Nope,” he said, sounding a little smug.

  “You’re evil.”

  “But it’s a good kind of evil, right?”

  “I’ll tell you after you show me what’s in the boxes.”

  “You say that as if you already have some idea.” He set the bag on the kitchen counter. Then he spied her tablet and grinned. “Have you been researching?”

  She picked at the groove in the molding surrounding the entrance to the kitchen. “Maybe a little.”

  “I’m not surprised. You’re resourceful. I’ve noticed that about you.” He began unloading the food. “So, what did you find out?”

  “Not much.” She busied herself grabbing glasses from the cabinet.

  “You visited Cārvāka’s website, didn’t you?” He laughed softly.

  “Maybe.” She shrugged and grabbed the iced tea from the fridge.

  “So you know what they sell.”

  “Maybe.”

  The empty bag crinkled as he set it aside. “Ah, but do you know what Cārvāka stands for?”

  Other than being the name for an online sex shop? “No.”

  “Cārvāka was an Indian hedonistic school of thought. According to the Cārvākas, there was nothing wrong with pleasure and sensual indulgence. They didn’t believe in an afterlife and believed that pleasure should be the aim of living.”

  Well, that explained it.

  “I see.” She poured their tea and avoided making eye contact as she set the glasses on the counter beside their food.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking his glass and sitting down before continuing. “Cārvāka is what I would refer to as a provider of classy, high-end intimate items created specifically for pleasure in all its pursuits. Some are even custom made to order.”

  She sat down next to him, her mind reeling. She’d seen a documentary once about the sex industry. There were companies that could mold a man’s erect penis and create a dildo that replicated his member. Was Cārvāka one of those companies? Was there a replica of Mark’s penis sitting on her dining room table right now? Was that what he meant by “custom made to order”?

  Not six feet away, God only knew what was inside that box, waiting for her, ready to give her Cārvākian pleasure. About a
dozen competing thoughts splintered inside her mind, making it hard to think and separate one from another.

  Then she noticed that he’d brought her a turkey artichoke panini and tomato bisque—her favorite—and all other thoughts ceased. “How did you know I like this?” She turned toward him as he was about to take a bite of his own sandwich.

  Pausing, he lowered his panini and looked at her. “I saw you eating it for lunch one day last week. Actually, I had to make my best guess about the sandwich, but the soup was pretty obvious.”

  “You noticed? And remembered?” Once more, he had surprised her. The men she knew didn’t notice such things, and if they did, they certainly didn’t remember them.

  “Of course I did.” He gave her one of his patented crooked smiles, one that showed his single dimple. “A man who is genuinely interested in a woman remembers what she likes. He notices what she eats, what she reads, how she wears her hair.” He smoothed his fingers over her hair. “He takes care of her. That’s his job. Well, maybe not his job, but certainly his responsibility.” He gestured toward her food. “Now eat.”

  He takes care of her. That’s his job. What an unusual yet refreshing perspective.

  “Yes, sir,” she said dramatically, digging in. “So bossy.”

  “Sir?” His browed twitched. “We’ll see if you’re still calling me that after you see what I got you.”

  The boxes on the table practically flashed like a beacon. Blink…blink…blink. It was a tad unnerving…and yet utterly, undeniably exhilarating.

  After eating, he helped her clean up then gestured for her to have a seat at the table. “Do you have a knife?”

  She pointed to a small drawer under the dish rack. “There’s a utility knife in there.”

  He retrieved it and joined her. “Are you ready?”

  Her wide-eyed gaze swept from his face to the boxes and back. With a nervous nod, she said, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  He sliced through the tape on both boxes and flipped open the flaps. From Karma’s vantage point, she couldn’t see the contents, and when she tried to sit up and peer inside, Mark slid the boxes farther away.