“
This is me turning my back on you and giving you
the cold shoulder.”
I couldn't help it, I laughed. “And, how is pouting
supposed to be effective when I can't see you doing it?”
“
Well, ask the Bas-hole. I'm sure he'll tell you
what I'm doing.”
At his quip, gentle amusement turned into full
hilarity; I could feel tears threatening. Oh. My. Gosh! Why have I
never thought of calling him Bas-Hole? It was classic, though
totally inappropriate for the moment since I was trying to make
nice. Still, I was positive future opportunities would present
themselves. “Remind me to get you an extra treat for that one.”
Bending over in a softer voice so our guest wouldn’t overhear, I
clarified, “I'm jealous I didn't think of Bas-hole first.”
Directing my attention to the couch area, “Well
Bastian, it appears Red wants to draw you into our squabble. Can
you confirm my dog is, indeed, giving me the cold shoulder?”
“I cannot confirm or deny what he's thinking, but he
is facing away from you. It does look like he's deliberately
ignoring you.” Bas drawled with a tinge of humor in his voice.
“And, he yawned.”
I got swatted in the ankle with a bushy tail. “Hey!
You bonehead,” I protested. Putting my hand out at Red's head
height, I requested, “Come on, get me to the couch then you can
continue to sulk if you want to.”
Red brushed his head against my hand and prompted me
closer to my coffee cup. Good dog. Once I was curled up on a corner
of the sofa,
“Your coffee is on the table,”
he directed. I
reached out and he clarified,
“No, the other way.”
His nose
pressed to my wrist to adjust my hand sweep, until I connected to
the ceramic mug, which was a little farther left then I
assumed.
Red lay down against the couch and placed his chin on
my ankles, I'm sure it was so he could stare up at me adoringly.
Pouting apparently forgotten, it struck me he probably still
remembered I was anxious about this visit. “Thanks Red.”
“Very strange.” Bas commented. “I have never seen an
animal do something so...” he searched for the right word,
“specific? It’s one thing to lead you to the couch, it’s a whole
new level when he moves your hand to locate something you didn't
tell him you wanted.”
Grinning, “Red knows by now, I always need coffee in
my hand,” I explained, taking a long sip.
“So, what was the not-argument about?” Bas asked in
an almost friendly manner.
I choked on the swallow of coffee I’d taken. Yeah, my
dog's laughter filled my head.
“I'll go get you a towel,”
he
offered, moving away from the couch and returning a moment later to
lay a dish towel on my leg.
Stalling maybe, but it took a moment to mop up the
coffee I’d spilled onto my hand and, under the direction of my
ever-helpful dog, the few spots which trickled onto my t-shirt.
Having decided, I turned to Bas and answered truthfully, “Red told
me when we were at the counter you smelled my hair. I was
disagreeing and calling him a trouble maker.”
“Well, I'll admit I caught a whiff of your shampoo
when I reached over for the cups. Something fruity, smelled
nice.”
“
See!”
Red crowed.
“I'm starting to believe you can really talk to your
dog, although it’s a leap to believe he talks back to you.”
“He can't read, color identification is a bit
inconsistent since dogs can't see red or green like we do, and we
have figured out he doesn't count accurately above four. But, he's
been exposed to quite a bit, and is good with items around the
house.” I paused to think for a moment. “He is very good at
describing things, but it has to be in the context of something he
has experienced or smelled. And, he's teaching me about body
language, not that it’s going to benefit me, since I can't see.
It’s interesting to experience the world the way he sees it. He has
some pretty strong opinions about people sniffing each other.
“Go ahead and point out something to him. Red can
tell me what it is.”
Bas was silent as he thought things through. “I'm
going to collect a few things from around the room and bring them
back to the coffee table,” he said. “Want a top-off on your mug
while I'm up?”
In answer, I held out my cup. I noticed he was
careful not to touch me as he lifted it out of my hand. Bas
wandered around the room, stopping often, presumably to examine or
pick up an item. Within a few minutes, I could hear him at the
coffeemaker before he wandered back to the couch. A soft multi
tap-thud indicated he had placed a number of items on the coffee
table.
Another, shorter interval, before he returned, “Hand
out,” he instructed, “I have your coffee.” He gently folded my
outstretched fingers around my mug, placing it in my hand the way I
usually held it, handle away from me.
“Okay,” he started, “I picked up a few things. Your
dog, Red, can tell you what they are when I point at them.” There
was a bit of scraping and tapping as he rearranged them on the
coffee table in front of me.
Bas must have pointed at something because Red told
me,
“It’s your fish.”
“Murphy, my betta.”
An acknowledging grunt was all Bastian offered.
“
I don't know what that's called,”
Red told me
as Bas indicated another item.
“It was on the kitchen
table.”
“Hold on a sec, Bas. Red doesn't know the name for
this. Let me ask him a few questions first.”
“Red, is it big or small?”
He considered this for a moment and asked,
“Compared to what?”
I chuckled, “I'll try to be more specific. Is it a
decoration?”
“
No.”
“Have you seen me or Ken use it before?”
“
Yes.”
“How did we use it?”
“
Ken made it in pieces and he put his glass on a
piece when he was in the chair by the window.”
I considered the possible items which would be on the
kitchen table. “Ah, it’s called a coaster. There are six pieces in
a holder. When we use coasters, we take a piece, a coaster, out of
the holder and put it under our cup or glass. It protects the
furniture. It’s like the mat we have on the floor under your food
and water dishes to protect the floor from drips.”
Bas' hand must have moved over something else.
“
It’s a picture of you and Janey. He took it out of his
wallet.”
It struck me as odd Bas had a picture of Janey and me
which he carried around with him, until I remembered him saying
something about all the pictures his sister sent had both of us in
them. “Red says you're pointing at a picture from your wallet,” I
said by way of identifying the object. “I'm surprised you didn't
chop off the half with me in it.”
Bas' voice was quiet, “You seem to have this
preconceived idea that I hate you, or something. It's a nice
picture. Of both of you,” he added. “Janey sent it a few years ago
when I was overseas.”
“
He's pointing at a box,”
Red told me, to let
me know the game continued.
“I don't know what it is, but it was
next to your purse on the kitchen counter.”
I ran the limited possibilities through my brain, “Oh
crap!” I said, “Please tell me I didn't leave what I think I did on
the counter.” Unfortunately, if it was next to my purse, there was
only one answer since I was at the store to buy a personal
lubricant. “I left the Astro-Glide next to my purse.” I muttered,
more to myself than in identification. “Really, Sebastian? Couldn't
you have grabbed a spoon or something instead?”
“Truthfully, I never thought you'd get this far into
the guessing game, and come on, it was right there.”
He was laughing at me. In good humor, and not
spitefully, which was a positive. I can't say I blamed him, I
handed him the ammunition. Speaking of which... I soooo did not
want to have a talk about the things I shared with Cat. This really
was the perfect opening though.
“Sebastian,” I started, “I need to talk with you
about the stuff I said when I was at Janey's on Tuesday.”
Aww man, how do you even begin a conversation like
this? Well, I always have been a “jump right in” kinda gal.
Cannonball!
“You do realize I didn't know there was anyone at
Janey's the other morning. Right?”
“Yeah,” he replied, sounding as uncomfortable as I
was, “it didn't take me long to catch on.” There was amusement in
his voice. “Is it a habit? I mean, the going to Janey's house so
you can talk to Cat? I think it was very nice of you to give her a
heads up she was in for a sleepless night.”
I made a quick replay of my Cat chat and felt mildly
relieved he apparently came into the conversation AFTER I cataloged
the nightstand drawer.
“I woke up a little before you got to that part.”
… orrrr not. I took a fortifying swallow of coffee
and swung my legs to the floor. Huh, I wonder where the dog went
to? Reaching forward, I placed the mug on the coffee table then put
my elbows on my knees and cradled my head in my hands. We were both
adults, right? Granted, Bas had a hell of a lot more experience,
and one would presume at this point he was pretty jaded. While I
was terribly embarrassed, he was probably mildly entertained by my
ignorance.
“You're hiding again,” Bas pointed out in amusement,
rather than annoyance this time.
“Yes, yes I am. And, blindness aside, I will probably
never look you in the face again as long as I live.” I inhaled a
large gulp of air, but the added oxygen to my brain did not help at
all.
“When I think of the stuff I said in those thirty
minutes, I am simply mortified, Bas. It was bad enough I babbled on
about my non-existent sex life, but, I also said some pretty
explicit and personal things about the time I caught you in the
kitchen with Sherry Dangerfield.”
“Yeah, well, about that—” he started.
I cut him off. “It’s not like I think about you and…
and,
that
time. But, Janey mentioned you were coming to
visit, so you were in the back of my mind already. When I was
telling Cat about Janey, Ken, and sex, everything kind of spilled
out of my mouth. Before I knew it, I was going on about how that
monster dick of yours scared me so bad I had to get drunk so I
could have sex my first time.”
A hand brushed back the hair covering my face, and
for the first time in memory, Bas touched me with deliberate
kindness. He grasped me firmly by the shoulders and pulled me
backward into his body as he relaxed against the couch cushions. He
was gentle, but persistent, as he maneuvered me into a curled
position with my legs over his lap and my face tucked into the
curve of his neck. And he held me.
Bas is a tall man, but his height isn't always the
first thing people remark on. Bastian has been a fitness fanatic
since he was in his teens. Janey tells me he is in the gym at least
four times a week, and leaning into his body, I could tell he was
as wide and ripped as I remembered. The chest under my cheek was
rock-hard and well-defined. The arms around me were large and
bulked with muscle. Add all this to his sun-streaked blond hair,
piercing blue eyes, and beautiful face, and you have a man who
women stop and stare at, simply for the pleasure of looking at
someone so gorgeous.
“Wow,” he remarked, “we are more fucked up than I
thought.”
“Don't swear in front of the dog,” I chided softly.
“He's a lot like a two-year old. He repeats everything."
“I will admit, I have to believe you about Red. He is
scary-smart. I've never seen anything like how he reacts with
you.”
Bas let out a breath and it ruffled through my hair.
“First,” he whispered against my ear, causing a slight shiver and a
very inappropriate pearling of my nipples, “I am sorry for my
behavior this morning.” Did he kiss my hair? I didn't dare ask; the
thought was too weird.
“Second, I promise, I will never hurt you in anger.”
His head tilted in a way which gave the impression he was looking
down, trying to see my face. “You DO know I would never hurt you or
anything, right? Except for a slap on the ass between consenting
adults, I've never struck a woman in my life.”
“Ah, TMI.” I gulped, trying to divert my imagination
from Bas in bed with a consenting adult sporting pink hand prints
all over her butt. The imp in me thought it would make a hysterical
pattern on a pair of pajama bottoms. On my imaginary PJ's, I would
add “Spank Me” in big letters over one cheek.
Setting aside my inner BDSM fashion designer, “I know
you wouldn't hit me. It never crossed my mind.”
“Then what's with the flinching? Geez, woman, do you
have any idea what was going through my mind when you reacted to my
touch like an abused wife? I'll admit I was hurt, and insulted you
kept cringing from me.”
“I am really out of my comfort zone here, Bastian; I
need to go back a ways to explain this properly.” Deep breath in.
Exhale. “How clear in your memory is the day I walked in on you
having sex in the kitchen?”