Free Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research by Anthology Page A

truly heartbreaking and something she saw way too much of.
    "I need to know where to place your fork." Julie figured he was right-handed, but waited for him to tell her.
    "I'd like to tell you where to place the fucking fork." His grin spread across his face in a nasty sneer.
    Julie actually grinned. "Noted, but I'm only trying to help you, so be nice." She grabbed his right hand and placed the fork in it.
    "I don't want or need your damn help." Bo gripped the fork in his fist and she wondered for a split second if he was getting ready to stab her with it. She was ready if he tried.
    "Too bad, because I have nothing better to do." Julie quickly moved his drink off the tray and put it on the table next to the bed. "Your roll is at twelve o'clock, potatoes are at three, and your chicken is at six o'clock. I have your drink on the table next to the bed. We'll work on that another day."
    "What in the hell are you taking about." Irritation trembled from his voice as well as a hint of fear that she didn't miss.
    "Do you know how to tell time?" Julie asked, her voice serious, and yet a grin still tipped her lips.
    "Of course I know how to tell time, I'm not stupid," Bo spat, then followed up with a snort.
    "Good to know."
    "What, that I can tell time?" He'd walked right into that one.
    "No, that you're not stupid. That would make my job so much harder." Julie cocked her eyebrow then gently touched his hand holding the fork, leading it to the plate. "Remember, your roll is at twelve o'clock." She guided his hand toward the buttered roll.
    "And let me guess, these are my potatoes at three fucking o'clock," he growled with disgust. "Listen, lady, this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I can eat just fine without your lame-ass lesson." With that he dropped the fork then grabbed a handful of potatoes and chicken in his fist and shoved it in his mouth. Half the food ended up in his mouth while the rest mashed in his beard and fell down his chest.
    "Nice." Julie sighed. "You know, being blind doesn't mean you have to act like a barbarian."
    Bo didn't say a word for a few seconds. He just stared at the wall. "You need to get out of here before I do something I've never done before." His tone was level and even.
    "Oh, and what would that be?" Julie knew what was coming and wanted it to come. She'd crossed his line and hoped to hell he'd cross hers so they could get it over with and get on with what really mattered: getting him back to where he needed to be.
    "Hit a woman, but lady, you are about to be the first." The words and the way he spoke them would have scared many, but not her. It was his determination that she heard, and she was going to push that determination just a little bit further before she was finished for the day.
    She glanced over to give Clay, whose angry pose indicated he was ready to stop his brother, a warning look before turning her attention back to Bo. "Don't forget, you're blind," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "That would be impossible."
    "Nothing is impossible if you want it bad enough." He sneered her way.
    Those words were music to her ears, and she wanted to jump up with a fist pump of triumph, but kept calm and cool. "I'm glad to hear you say that."
    "Just get out of here." Bo laid his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes as if in defeat.
    Julie picked up the tray, but left a napkin on his lap. "Your drink is still on the table if you want it." She walked toward the door Clay had opened, but stopped and turned. "Be ready for round two, because I'll be back bright and early in the morning."
    "God help me," Bo moaned, still keeping his eyes closed.
    "He's on my side in this, so save your breath," Julie replied before walking out the door.
     

 
    Chapter Three
     
     
     
    Clay found himself looking out his office window for the hundredth time, searching for Julie Daniels's car coming up the drive. Slamming his pen down, he stood. He was behind on paperwork, but his concentration was