Authors: KC Wells
In that moment, all Paul wanted to do was hug Adam, and the desire took him by surprise. He wanted to stroke his back, to speak with words that soothed the ache inside him. But he could do none of those things, and he wasn’t sure of Adam’s reaction if he did.
“So you decided to come here.”
Adam nodded. “After a few weeks of locking myself away from the world in my flat, I was going crazy. I was in a cage, only able to go so far on my own, and that was my front door. There was one well-meaning but annoying neighbor who insisted on bringing me a cooked meal every night.” His brow cleared. “Now I think about it, I treated her abominably, and she really didn’t deserve it. Why she kept coming back after the way I spoke to her is beyond me.”
“Maybe she’d had experience of dealing with someone who’d lost their sight,” Paul suggested.
Adam stared at him. “You may be right. I’m sure she mentioned her father or uncle or some such relative at some point.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention at the time.”
“It might be a good idea to send her some flowers, as a thank you.”
Adam’s face relaxed into a smile. “That’s a lovely thought. I’ll let you organize it.” He finished his coffee. “But I digress. I decided to return to the island and shut out the world. My grandfather had left me this house, and it seemed the perfect solution. There was only one snag: Caroline and Dean were living here.”
“Oh?”
“Caroline’s husband, Terry, left her about fifteen years ago. From what I can recall about my brother-in-law, this was no great loss. The man never amounted to much. He didn’t work and did little to help around the house. It was Caroline’s tea shop business that bought their home.” He sighed. “She hates that house.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Paul wondered if that was why Caroline was so keen on visiting Adam. It made sense if she didn’t like her own home.
Adam chuckled. “Where do I start?” He counted off on his fingers. “She doesn’t like the area—they live in Ryde, by the way—but then she never did. It was all she could afford at the time. It’s too tiny for her liking. Her tea shop is in Ventnor, so she has to cross the island every day.”
Paul had to smile. There it was, that Island mentality he knew so well. He’d laugh when he heard his friends complaining about having to travel ‘all the way to Newport’, a journey that had to be all of fifteen to twenty minutes at most. “How long had she lived here?”
“Ever since the divorce. She’d asked me if I minded, and of course I hadn’t: I was living in London most of the time, when I wasn’t off sailing across the Atlantic with a crew. So she rented out her house, which then became another source of income, and she and Dean moved in here.”
“And then you wanted to move back.” Paul could see anyone being pissed off about that. To go from living by the sea in a beautiful house, to life in a tiny house in crowded Ryde….
Adam nodded. “Mind you, ever since I’ve come to live in the house, she keeps talking about finding me assisted accommodation, in a flat with a warden living close by. Plus, she wants me to meet other people who are vision-impaired. I still remember a visit from a member of the IOW Society for the Blind. She talked about their meetings every Thursday, where they play dominoes and drink tea.” He shuddered. “Can you see me playing dominoes? I mean, really?”
Paul couldn’t help his reaction. He burst out laughing. “God, no.”
It took Adam all of two seconds to join in with the laughter. “I know!” He sagged into his chair, smiling. “I was polite, though. I thanked her but declined.” He tilted his chin toward Paul. “Was there a purpose to your questions? Or was it just a ‘getting to know your employer better’ session?”
“I did have a purpose, yeah.” Paul’s heartbeat sped up. “I wanted to know more about your experiences since you lost your sight. I have a few ideas that might make things easier around here for you, but I’ll need to research them first.”
Adam sat up instantly, his back straight. “What do you need from me?” His voice was crisp, alert.
“Well, for one thing, I’ll need the password to use the PC in the office.”
Adam nodded. “All that information is written down somewhere. What else?”
“May I also have access to your laptop?”
Adam arched his eyebrows but nodded once more. “I’ll give you the password.” He cocked his head to one side. “Anything else?”
“Yes. What type of mobile phone do you have?”
“An iPhone, not that I’ve used it much during the last month or so.”
There was an ache in Paul’s chest at the implications of Adam’s remark. “Can I have it? I’ll need that, too.”
“Sure.” A brief pause. “Will you need funds if your research pays off?”
Paul let out a grateful sigh. “Yes. I was going to ask about that.”
“That’s not a problem. I’ll give you my credit card.”
Paul grinned. “Ooh. I like the sound of that,” he joked.
Adam snickered. “Before you decide to go on a spending spree, please remember my sister is in charge of my accounts. She gets to see all the statements. So unless you want to explain to her why I appear to have purchased the entire contents of an online sex shop, think again.” That grin was all kinds of sexy.
“Aw, damn it.” Paul feigned disappointment. “Seriously though, am I okay to make purchases?”
“Sure. Be aware that it has a limit of ten thousand pounds, and if I’m not happy with a purchase, you’re the one who’ll be paying it off.” Adam leaned forward. “You have an idea of what you’re looking for, don’t you?”
It was Paul’s turn to grin. “I have a list.”
Adam caught his breath, his lips parted. He held himself still. Finally he spoke. “Good luck.”
Paul hadn’t missed the air of hopefulness that clung to Adam. It was a feeling he understood all too well. There was a fluttering in Paul’s belly, too.
I hope this pays off.
* * * * * *
Adam opened the French doors that led from the library onto the veranda, drinking in the salty sea air. He recalled the railing that had run around it when he’d last seen the house, and edged his way forward. Sure enough, there was a wooden railing at waist height, its grain smooth and worn. He leaned onto it tentatively, testing to make sure it was safe. A slight creak, nothing more. Adam leaned more heavily, listening to the seagulls soaring above his head, their shrieks loud and raucous. Below him was the ever constant sound of the sea. Adam let it roll over him, filling his senses, comforting him, taking his attention away from whatever it was Paul was doing.
He fingered the face of his watch. Paul had been in the office for about two hours, and apart from emerging to make coffee, Adam hadn’t heard a peep out of him. Not that the house had been silent: in the last half hour Adam swore he’d heard another voice coming from the office, mechanical in nature.
He tapped his fingers on the railing, straining to hear any extraneous sounds, but there was nothing.
Damn it, how much longer is he going to be?
In spite of his mood of heightened anticipation, Adam had to smile. He’d always been an impatient bastard.
He held his breath when the door to the office opened.
Finally!
Adam came back into the library and closed the French doors behind him. “Well?”
Paul chuckled. “If you sit down, I’ll share my morning’s findings. But first, I need something to eat.”
“Then we’ll sit in the kitchen,” Adam groused. “You can talk and eat at the same time.” He walked through the room and into the kitchen, confident enough to do it without his cane. He sat at the table, hands clasped on it in front of him. “So, talk to me. How much money have you spent, for one thing?”
The fridge opened. “Cold meat and salad for lunch?”
Adam growled. “Never mind lunch. I want to know what you’ve discovered.” His stomach rumbled and Adam glanced downward. “And
you
can shut up for a start.”
Paul was laughing at him, the little shit. “Okay, I spent six hundred dollars on some software. That equates to about four hundred pounds.” There followed the sound of chopping, as if it was a perfectly reasonable amount.
“Bloody hell!” Adam exclaimed. “What does it do? For that price I’d expect it to make the dinner, do the dishes and send me off to bed with a mug of hot chocolate.”
Paul guffawed. “It’s amazing. I’ve downloaded it onto the PC and your laptop. It helps you browse the net, listen to music, print, read print books and e-books, reads aloud what’s on your computer screen, helps you do word processing… ” Paul came to a halt and resumed chopping.
“That sounds fantastic,” Adam admitted, a longing swelling inside him. The inability to access technology had been one of his chief regrets. His tutor at Torquay had wanted to guide him through what options were available, but Adam had shut him out.
Now he was ready to move on. Now he
wanted
to move on.
Motivation was everything.
“I’m not finished. I’ve gone into the settings on your laptop. Using the Ease of Accessibility option, you now have a Narrator. It reads out what appears in dialogue boxes, reads error messages… ” Another pause while Paul went back to the fridge. “So if you combine the software and the Narrator feature, you’ll be able to read books and browse online for your research. You can do anything you did before.”
It was slowly dawning on Adam: he could write his books again. “Oh wow.” For a man with an extensive vocabulary, it was failing him miserably.
“I’ve gone into the settings on your phone, too. You now have the option of hearing what’s on the screen. And instead of pressing down to open an app, you press anywhere on the screen and you’ll hear where your finger is. If it’s where you want to be, you double-tap to enter. If not, you flick to the right or left. I’ve also downloaded an app—HeyTell—that turns speech into texts. All you do is say your message aloud and it sends it as a text.”
Adam knew he had a huge grin on his face. He felt so light in his body. “This is incredible, Paul.”
“I’m still not finished.” Paul chuckled. “I’ve also downloaded an app called Trekker Breeze. You use it when you go out.”
Go out?
Adam stared in Paul’s direction, his mouth dry.
“It uses a GPS signal to tell you exactly where you are,” Paul continued. “It announces names of streets, junctions, landmarks, you name it.” Adam could hear the smile in Paul’s voice. “You’d be able to go out by yourself and find your way around.” A brief pause. “That’s the lot, except for a couple of things that I’ve ordered, but we’ll have to wait for those. I’ve paid for them, not you, however.” Paul moved to the table. “And there’s a ham and cheese salad sandwich in front of you.”
Adam ignored the food. How could Paul expect him to think about food? “I can’t believe how much you’ve accomplished in the space of a few hours.” He couldn’t wait to get started. He wanted to get on his laptop and get to grips with the software, the new settings, all of it.
Paul laughed. “It feels like Christmas, right?”
All Adam wanted to do was let out an almighty whoop of joy. “That’s exactly how it feels.” He had to swallow hard to suppress the shout of glee that was right there behind his lips.
“Now eat.”
Adam chuckled to hear the mock stern note in Paul’s voice. “Yes, sir,” he replied with a grin.
They ate in silence, Adam finding it difficult to focus on his food. He didn’t have the words to fully express his gratitude for what Paul had done. What struck him to the core was that Paul had done all this without being asked. He’d done it out of a desire to help Adam.
Then all such thoughts fled him.
Paul had accomplished all that within the space of a couple of hours. Adam had been back on the island since mid July, a period of three weeks or so.
Why hasn’t my sister offered to help me? She could have found exactly the same information.
In the time it took for that thought to flit through his brain, Adam already had the answer.
Why would she?
Adam had been brusque, downright rude on occasions, and had given her nothing but headaches with regards to the companions she’d hired for him. Why would she want to help him?
Because I’m her
brother
, damn it.
Adam swallowed the last mouthful of sandwich, his mind racing. He didn’t want to think about Caroline, not when there was something much more important to be done.
He had an assistant to thank, and he knew just how to do it.
Paul was moving about the kitchen, clearing up. Adam cleared his throat.
“You’ve done so much for me today, I’d like to do something for you.”
Paul halted. “You don’t have to do anything. This is my job, right? To be your assistant?”
Adam smiled. “My assistant deserves a reward for his efforts. No arguments, please.” His pulse quickened. “When you’re finished here, come into the library. I want you to pull out the three boxes from behind the couch.”
That hitch in Paul’s breathing was delicious.
Yeah, I have him pegged, all right. Paul is all about the kink.
It took mere seconds for the next thought to filter through his brain.
And if I want more than that? Where does that leave me?
Paul entered the library, his heartbeat racing.
What’s he gonna do?
There was only one way to find out.
Adam was on the couch, leaning back against the cushions, his lips twisted into a half-smile. “Put the boxes in the middle of the floor, in front of me.”
Paul went behind the couch to drag out the first box, pulse quickening at the thought of what delights lay hidden beneath the layer of cardboard. He repeated the process until all three boxes sat before Adam, their exteriors revealing nothing.
“Before we go any further,” Adam began, “there’s something I need to say. Somewhere in the house is a folder containing all my test results.”
Paul swallowed, Adam’s words a reminder of the realities they had to deal with.
Adam nodded, as though he’d seen Paul’s reaction. “I’m negative. It’s been five months since my last test and the only person I’ve had sex with in that time has been you.” He spoke crisply, his expression neutral, giving nothing away.