Half Blind (The Technicians #13)

Chapter 13- Magnetism

H elen's mind, as well as her driving, remained focused and steady while she made the two-hour trek to Plainfield, Indiana to see the home purchased by her big hunk of a hero. She had no actual plans or expectations for the weekend other than sitting close to him, getting hugs and kisses and enjoying the warmth of waking up next to so much man. Mustang made her feel protected and safe. Everything inside of her was in turmoil, but on the outside, she'd learned through hardships to be the duck on the pond. To onlookers, the neatly dressed woman appeared calm and collected in the face of adversity. On the inside, she was still at times the terrified little girl, running faster than her legs could take her, but getting nowhere. This weekend, she hoped to make strides with her guy on their upcoming plans. True, they had spoken about sharing a life, but nearly a month had passed. This is where the turmoil rose its head and began to fester inside of her belly.

Mustang had time to change his mind, or perhaps in the moving of his entire life from the west coast to boring middle of America, her hunk had thought, “Hey, fuck this.”

“Or me,” she said, looking over at her purse where she stashed her new love potion. “Goodness, Helen, when did you suddenly learn to like sex so much? Like? Enjoy? Finally, get to understand pleasure? That man. That sexy ass man did this to me and my cooter. I don't know if I actually love him or my cooter does. Either way, we both are going to be happy as hell to see him in just a few minutes.”

The conversation with herself came to an end as the GPS announced the upcoming exit. She followed the instructions, which led her to the property she'd picked on the internet to be the new home for the man called Mustang. The wooden fence was most of the way up, and the wrought iron entry gates were being installed. Monday would be his first day on his new job, and it nearly broke her heart to not be at the house when he came home from his first day of work. It also made her climb into her feelings worrying that she wouldn't be at the house to make him breakfast or pack his lunch to send him off to the first day at the new job.

“Maybe,” she said, looking over at her purse.

She entered the yard, driving past the run-down buildings and the small homestead Helen suggested could be his new workshop. Her breath caught at the sight of an adorable avocado green home with a front porch. The immediate thought came to mind of have a few rocking chairs on the porch, along with a small table to hold her tea or maybe a porch swing.

Gravel lined the drive path where she pulled in next to the home and provided a path to her handsome hunk. She drove a bit further, almost coming around the rear to find a carport. Helen pulled in, put the vehicle in park, and exhaled slightly. Cutting the engine, she stepped out of the vehicle and looked over the land. A great deal of work was needed to make it feel like the people who crafted thoughtful pieces lived in this home.

Helen turned to look at the house. She jumped, startled at seeing her man on the porch. He had a wide smile, which also made her return the silent greeting. She maintained eye contact with him as she walked to the porch.

“Hey there, Trooper Neary. How are you doing?”

“Better now,” Mustang said. “Should I say welcome home?”

“A nice home it is,” Helen said. “This is pretty swanky in comparison to what I’ve got back in Kentucky. I got a double wide, and this is, wow, how many square feet is this and what’s the number of bedrooms?”

He watched her walk up the stairs. His mind thought of all kinds of things to say to get the sexy party started, but she deserved more from him. If it cost him the remainder of his sanity, she was going to get the best version of Jarius Neary, the man they called the Mustang. “Four bedrooms, three baths, at 3,160 square feet. Come on inside and see the place.”

Helen stood immobile. “No kiss? No sexy words to titillate my senses?”

“Well, I was going to call while you drove to talk about the kids...you know, tell Mamma how much they were missing you, and that left one, he kept trying to spit up each time I said your name,” he said, nearly chuckling.

“I shall get to the kids in a minute,” she told him. “I like the land. How do you feel about the house?”

“It has more features than I thought,” he said, leading her inside. “The finishes—I was surprised—are higher end. The bathroom is nice, and there is a formal dining room and eat-in kitchen, as you can see.”

“I like,” she told him, running her finger over the granite countertop on the kitchen island. “Lead on, Garcon.”

“Here, off the kitchen, is an office with the third bathroom, and a bedroom that would be great as your craft room,” he told her, still staring at the woman he wanted to lift onto the kitchen counter and do nasty things to with his mouth. Instead, he pointed. “The great room is here, and you can enter the master bedroom here, or if you walk this way, you come to the utility room. Here is the second bathroom and two guest rooms. We have to walk back this way to the master.”

Helen followed behind him, watching the tight buns. More than anything, she wanted him naked and sweaty, but there was a buildup she needed in order to make her idea work. She refused to make eye contact with the bed, but walked into the bathroom and gasped. “This tub and shower, like wow. I love this. It is large enough for both of us, plus this bench seat gives me ideas.”

“Hmm. Okay, but there is only one closet, it is a walk-in, and if you want, the closet in one of the other bedrooms can be yours,” he offered.

“I don't have that many clothes or handbags or shoes, for that matter,” she said. “A major concern would be the weapons cache. I mean, since this is off the ground, creating a storage space under the floor would be easy.”

“Okay, if that is where your mind went,” he said, the disappointment clear in his voice.

“No. Please don't sound like I'm avoiding getting there because I plan to. I plan to go big and break in this home. Jay, I have a surprise for you too,” she said, “I was trying to wait, but if you want it now. I will show it to you.”

“I want it now, Helen,” he whispered, his eyes saying what his mouth was not.

“Then come on,” she told him, pulling him by the hand to the living room. The leather couch from his house waited for them. Helen pushed him onto the seat. From her bag, she pulled out the glass bottle with a roller ball applicator. She smeared the oil on her inner wrists, the back of her thighs, and her throat at the pulse points.

“Helen, is that a new perfume? I've never known you to wear a scent outside of your lotion,” he said, curious about what she was doing. “I don't smell anything.”

“That's because I need to heat it up,” she told him. She used her phone to queue up a hip-hop song. The same dance moves she had highlighted in the lab with Lemon, Helen employed again. She wasn't much of a dancer, and currently she looked like an unemployed stripper past her prime trying to pay the rent.

Helen gyrated.

Helen did a jig and did a few dips.

She shook her slender groove thang. She twisted her lips, shimmied her shoulders, and pulsated her hips.

Mustang sat on the couch thinking the woman had lost her rabid damned mind. The dance moves reminded him of Halle Berry in the orange suit dance in BAPS . He did kind of enjoy the show and the look of sheer satisfaction on her face that the dance she performed would somehow turn him on. Just as he was about to stop her, a scent, so subtle, sultry and intoxicating, hit his nose. His pupils began to dilate. Blood started coursing through his body, going lower and all he wanted to do was mate with the cute lady.

“What in the hell?” he said, leaning forward, uncertain what was happening, but he needed it to stop. A dry mouth spoke husky words, “Helen, come over here.”

“No,” she said, continuing the dance.

“Helen, please get over here. What am I smelling? I know that scent. I almost know the taste of...what is that? Helen? Helen! Damn it, Helen come to me,” he demanded. “Stop wiggling around like that and come on over here.”

“No!” she told him and started to unbutton her sweater.

“Woman, if I get up from this couch.... I’m not going to stop until you're calling my name and scratching up my back,” he said, nearly growling at her. “Come here, Helen.”

She chuckled, tossing the sweater at him. Helen McDaniel actually giggled as she snatched off her bra, twirling it over her head. The skirt came off next and the hot red panties created a juxtaposition on the dark skin.

“Don't make me come over there. I'm trying to be a gentleman, Helen. Come to me,” he said, moving to the edge of the couch. The scent was driving him to distraction, and he wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman or a three-piece crispy fried chicken strips with hot fries, which were his go-to comfort foods.

“If you want me, catch me,” she told him, taking off running towards the bedroom.

She looked over her shoulder to see if he'd moved from the couch. Mustang was on his feet and right on her heels. In one swoop, he had Helen in his arms while continuing to run to the bedroom. They landed on the bed in a heap.

“Keep in mind, you started this, but I'm going to finish it,” Mustang promised and went to work.

Strong, capable hands roamed over her body. His hot mouth kissed, licked, and sucked on each of points where she placed the love potion oil. She didn't remember him getting undressed until the pressure from the rigidity of his planning penetrated the fog in her mind. Long, deep, thoughtful strokes brought her to the edge as he inhaled the scent on her neck, growling with satisfaction as he went deeper, picking up his pace, not slowing down. The interaction between them left no holds barred as he moved with precision, over and over again, with deep thrusts until she cried out. Her nails razed his back as her legs locked around his hips. Mustang left nothing to chance, bringing her to the edge, then forcing her to tumble over. He fell along with her, grunting in satisfaction as he emptied his reserves and collapsing on his side.

A weighty hand rested on her belly. Helen, her eyes heavily lidded with passion, looked at her man. To her surprise, he didn't seem at all pleased. If anything, her man appeared to be furious. His fury was now directed at her.

“Jay, are you okay?”

“No, I have a cramp in my butt cheek,” he said, grunting as he worked to pull them apart.

“I thought for a moment you were angry at me,” Helen said softly.

“I am,” he told her. “Helen, I don't know what that was or why you felt it was necessary unless I'm not satisfying you. If you want an approach to our lovemaking I'm not using, we can discuss it versus whatever in the hell just happened. Can you tell me what in the hell just happened?”

“A love potion,” she confessed. “I made it in Lemon's lab.”

Mustang closed his eyes for a moment to collect his thoughts. He wanted to address the matter head on and not feel like a simp. “Helen if I don't turn you on, I understand, but at least be kind and let me know, versus, hell, I'm still unclear what that smell is...I felt out of control. I know the scent. I know the taste. What is that?”

Her cheeks reddened. She didn't want to confess the true contents of the potion. Mustang saw it and turned away from her, his bare bottom facing her.

Helen didn't know what to make of his high-handed actions. “Oh, you're turning your back on me?”

“No, I'm turning the other cheek,” he said. “This is the cheek with the cramp. Plus, I nutted so hard, I need a nap. I'm taking a nap.”

“Jay, I'm sorry. I thought it would heighten the experience between us,” she said.

“It heightened it all fucking right! There are kids all over the comforter. I think my right nut has contracted into my body, and oh yeah, did I mention my butt cheek has a cramp?” he mumbled. “We don't need that kind of stuff, Helen. You turn me on. I was ready to make love to you the same day you called. Hell, I thought about driving to you and getting us a room for the night.”

“Okay, I'll throw it away,” she whispered.

He turned over in a hurry. “Don't throw it away. Put it in the nightstand for special evenings.”

She reached over him to pull out the pillow cramped under her arm. The scent on her wrist wafted under his nose, triggering an immediate response. Mustang grabbed her arm, sniffing the pulse point, then he licked it. He licked her wrist again, then made eye contact with her at the realization of what he was tasting and the scent which was familiar to him. A loud guffaw left his mouth.

“No, you didn't!!!”

“I know, and I did,” she said, pulling the covers up to her nose. “I almost got caught by Lemon while harvesting the nectar for my Love God.”

This confession only made him laugh harder. “You are bat shit insane and I am here for all of it after I take this nap.”

“So, you still want me, Jay? You still want us?”

“Yes, I want you, Helen. I want us and a life in this home or the home you want me to build next to this one,” he said, yawning.

That was it. He was out like a light. While he slumbered off the powerful lovemaking session, Helen dressed loosely in the shirt he'd removed and slowly explored the home where she and Mustang would live. Finally, a place where she could decorate and have her own family.

A buzzing sound broke up her journey through the fantasy she was building in her mind. The beautiful moment was interrupted by a phone call. It was her technician phone. She hadn't answered the line as a technician yet, and nerves struck her. Her finger slid across the screen.

“Go for Cranberry,” she said, feeling silly.

“This is the operator. We have a request for a connection from Mr. Yield,” the voice said. “Will you accept the call?”

“Is he calling collect?”

“No, it is a direct connection through The Company,” the voice stated. “Will you accept the call?”

“I guess; put him through,” Helen said, waiting to hear his growl in the line. She smiled as the guttural noise preceded his greeting. She asked, “Missing me already, Baby?”

“Funny,” he said. “I got four fingers in my account with a marker that said Cranberry. What is this for?”

“Bonus for closing down the Fields of Flowers. I didn't do it alone, so I decided to share,” she said. “If you don't want it, I'll take it back.”

“I'll keep it; thoughtful of you to share,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

She paused for a moment. “So much of my life, I've spoken and never was heard. I spoke, you listened, then we made some shit happen. I appreciate you and shared. Be good. Cranberry out.”

Helen ended the call and the line rang again. “What in the blue balls is happening?”

“Go for Cranberry,” she said, feeling more confident with the greeting.

“This is the operator. We have a request for a connection from The Bad Apple,” the voice said. “Will you accept the call?”

“Why the hell not,” Helen said, waiting on the phone. “Go for Cranberry. How may I be of assistance to The Bad Apple?”

“I have five fingers penetrating my life,” he said. “Ricky is upset that you sent a finger to him, and he doesn't know why.”

Helen paused. “When I came back from the initial shopping trip, he made sure that icky bathroom was fit for this Queen. I thank him, plus we didn't get to go shopping. He missed his day with me, so I wanted to give him some love.”

“Did I miss something about where these fingers came from?”

“Bonus on shutting down the Field of Flowers,” she said. “Since you sent me, I felt you deserved a slice of the pie. The others, I wanted the boys to have a starter gift from me, no matter what they decide to do in life.”

“Aren't you all kinds of thoughtful,” Apple said, pausing. “Oscar is missing you. He's asked to call you.”

“Not a good idea, but I will write and keep in touch,” she said. “You good?”

“Yep.”

“Talk soon. Cranberry out,” she said, ending the call.

Leaning against the kitchen island, instinct made her check the fridge. Nothing was taken down, which meant he planned to take her out for dinner. Mustang had food stores in the pantry for his lunch for next week. This gave Helen an idea.

She pressed 1 on her Technician phone. Patiently, she waited for her handler to answer.

“State your need, needy person,” the voice said.

“Requesting an additional day and evening, returning to the training assignment on Tuesday morning by ten a.m.,” Helen said.

“This is not Summer Camp, Cranberry,” the voice said.

“I know, but he's starting his new job on Monday. I want to be here to send him off, and I want to be here when he comes home from his first day to provide support and encouragement,” Helen said. “We all need that.”

She heard a loud sigh. “You're seriously asking me for an additional day off from your training to stay and play house with your man friend? Tell me, Oh Delusional One, why would I agree to that versus washing you out and giving you all the free time in the world to pack his lunch and ask about his day?”

Helen didn't miss a beat. “Because I know when you need a tracker, you're going to call him to ask for an assist. If I am here every day with nowhere to go or anything to do other than fondle my anger, when he says you asked a favor of him, I will kindly say, ‘Fuck that chick; she didn't do you any favors.’ Or you can give me an additional day from playing with poisonous plants to take care of this man, who will help you when and how he's able when you call for an assist because that is who he is.”

The voice replied, “I am starting to see who you are as well.”

“If you didn't know, you'd better ask somebody. Back in the saddle on Tuesday and thank you for this. This will mean a lot to him. Cranberry out,” she said, and hung up the phone. She exhaled softly, looking out the large paned window, “Yeah, this place needs some curtains.”

*****

T HE WEEKEND WENT FAR better than either of them anticipated. Helen was adamant on the curtains; privacy fence or not, the idea of no coverings on the windows creeped her out, the sheer idea of some weirdo out there peering in watching their sexy time made her skin crawl.She found drapes for the living, dining, and bedrooms and personally hung them using his power drill and leveler.

Saturday night, for the first time as a couple, they went on a date. Nothing fancy, but a simple dinner at a local eatery, a stop at a bookstore, and enjoyed pie and coffee at a diner. Much of the day, they ventured around Plainfield, receiving odd stares as they shopped for a few items.

“I don't want to furnish all the rooms just yet,” she told him.

“Okay.”

“Nothing else to say,” Helen commented.

“Usually, a blanket statement like that from you has deeper meaning; therefore, I won't push,” he said, noticing the echo in the home was no more. “The curtains are nice and you're good with that drill.”

An odd expression came to her face. “I was thinking, when Bad Apple first taught me to use a drill, that it would be used as some form of tool to extract information from a suspect. You know, all James Bond and shit, like 'Where are they hiding the children, you slimy caterpillar catcher' kind of thing?”

“Caterpillar catcher. Odd turn of phrase,” he said, arching his eyebrow.

“The entire life cycle of a chrysalis is a learning experience for me,” she told him.

Mustang stopped. He stared at her for the longest, seeing and slowly beginning to comprehend. “You know a lot of things, don't you?”

“I've either been ignored or fixated upon, both of which made me hypervigilant,” she said. “I don't know what to do with what I know, so I remain quiet, sharing when necessary, shutting the hell up when it's not.”

“Okay, then riddle me this: Do you believe I'm going to ask to marry you?”

Helen watched his face. She knew the answer he wanted; however, it wouldn't be the answer she'd give. Over the weekend, she’d watched him as he watched her. This house would be their home. Her intention was to make it a place where they both could recharge and be themselves, and she didn't plan to move too fast by nesting, and they had no baby birds to feed or tend.

“You already stated you would; therefore, you will,” she said softly. “However, what is driving you bat shit crazy is the concern that I might be bat shit crazy. This will either be the best decision of your life or the worst. I gave you sixteen reasons why I looked forward to sharing this journey through our old age with you. I am what you see. There's nothing hidden with me, no personal agendas or vendettas. You take care of me; I will take care of you. Colt gets handled on a regular basis and I get to enjoy it and not feel like a piss pot for an unappreciative man.”

“Wow,” he said, not knowing what to add after that.

“My turn, riddle me this,” Helen said. “Do I get a honeymoon or a vacation? I mean a real one? Oregon was the furthest West I've been in the U.S. I want to lounge on a white sandy beach, hell a black sandy beach, near a resort with tiny little umbrellas in my drink. Can I have that?”

“Of course. Do you want more, jewels, furs, expensive handbags?”

“If I do, I'll buy my own,” she said, winking at him. “However, if you want to give those things to me, and I don't need to accept three contracts to get us a little place in the Poconos, then have at it, but that stuff isn't important to me. I like things that are central to who I am. Those kinds of gifts mean you know who I am a person. A purse is nice, but it’s a purse. A concealed carry purse would be cool, but honestly, designer handbags are to impress other women and your friends. I don’t have many of those and the friends I am making, don’t give a shit about a named brand purse unless it’s carrying an arsenal.”

“Yep, bat shit crazy, and I'm here for it,” Mustang said, pulling her into an embrace. She was becoming more comfortable with him reaching for her, and he was becoming more comfortable waking up next to the woman called Cranberry. The lady was finding her way and her voice, and he would give her the space. When she was ready, she'd let him know.