“Are you okay?”
Joseph nodded, coughing. “You deserve no less.”
“What?”
Joseph coughed again, sagging into her a little. “Someone should look out for you, even from me.”
Mary shook her head. “I can look out for myself.”
Joseph nodded, cupping her cheek and drifting his thumb along the plump swell of it. “Consider us your backups, then.”
Her eyes flicked over Joseph’s shoulder to Deon. He looked utterly bewildered, primed and poised to throw down should Joseph say or do something he didn’t like. Easing out of Joseph’s hold, she approached her brother with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re really trying to send someone to the hospital on Christmas morning over a hookup?” A strangled sound wafted from behind her, but Mary didn’t turn her head to investigate. “I’m a grown woman. Why do you care who I let in my bed?”
“It’s Joseph!”
“I thought that was your grand scheme, wasn’t it? First at your wedding, then on the flight down. Are you surprised he could still want me without him being able to ‘blame it on the alcohol?’”
He jerked as if she’d slapped him “Mary—”
“Is it really so crazy that someone could want me?” she interrupted, uninterested in whatever excuse he concocted. “Care about me? I know you don’t but—”
“Hold the entire fuck up! Where’d you get an idea like that?”
Mary pursed her lips together, hating that tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t speak for sudden emotions clogged her throat. All she could see was Deon shying away from her whenever she tried to hug him; Deon snapping at her when she offered to help him with his homework; Deon skipping her graduations because he’d rather spend time with his blood cousins instead of the daughter of his father’s girlfriend; Deon letting her know about Layla through an Instagram post like she were “general population” instead of the woman who’d effectively been his sister for most of his life; Deon making it very clear that “family photos” commemorating his accomplishments would never include her. Every attempt she’d made to be close to him, he’d rebuffed or ignored; and if not for Layla and now Gwen and the new little one, Mary wondered if she’d even have a family with whom to spend the holidays. Her Petri dishes and pipettes, most likely.
She ignored Deon’s question and turned to Joseph instead. “Look, your relationship with Deon predates me by, like, eons. I’m not gonna come between you guys.”
But then she did, slipping through the space they created to go into the guest room in which she was staying to pack her bags. Mary only got as far as placing the bag on the foot of the bed before the door burst open with Deon and Joseph glaring at her with irritation and a little something like panic.
“At least you told us you were leaving this time.”
Deon’s shade had Mary whirling around to him. “I’m sorry?”
Her brother’s face turned as hard as stone, and he crossed his arms at his chest again. He looked so much like an overgrown version of the six-year-old he used to be that Mary couldn’t help her giggle.
His eyes widened at her. “You laughin’!”
“You look like Gwen on the verge of throwing a tantrum.”
Deon’s own lips quirked and Joseph flat-out snorted his mirth. “Man, whatever!”
“She’s your clone. I told Joseph that, didn’t I?”
“Something to that effect.”
“And you don’t think your leaving would upset her? It’s Christmas!”
Mary’s humor shriveled up at Deon’s mention of her current actions. Gwen deserved a happy Christmas full of cheer, not one full of tension and strife featuring two adults she barely knew.
“I don’t know what else to do, Deon,” Mary admitted. “I know I’m only here because Layla made you invite me, and I’d rather not be where I’m not truly wanted.”
“I invite you here all the time. It’s you who never comes.”
“Layla invites me.”
“I thought you’d rather hear it from Layla than from me.”
“I love Layla, but she’s not my brother.”
She looked at him baldly, waiting for his typical refrain that he technically wasn’t her brother, either, but it never came. Instead, he looked down in something like shame, then gave a sad little nod, followed by an even sadder chuckle.
“Layla was right.”
“Right?”
“I’ve been fucking this all up for five years.”
“What?”
Deon sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”
Mary looked to Joseph for help, but he just shrugged. “For?”
“Making you think I don’t care about you. That I don’t love you.”
Mary shook her head, the tears she’d managed to shove down popping up to the surface like a submerged buoy. She turned her back to the men, thinking of how she’d given them labels she’d assumed they hadn’t wanted. Brother. Lover. Now she didn’t know what was true.
Or, more accurately, wasn’t sure she could trust her hopes.
“Joseph cussed me out and I didn’t like that. Didn’t like he’d been better about protecting you than I’ve been. Dad would be so disappointed in me. Your mom too.”
“Protecting me?” Mary asked, her tears making the words sound viscous with her confusion.
“I know you’re the older one, but Dad told me to. I didn’t. I didn’t want to be disloyal to my mom. But that’s not how families work. There should be space for everyone, especially for those who’re only trying to love you.”
She felt someone coming behind her, and because the person didn’t smell more like wood and tobacco, Mary knew it was Deon and not Joseph.
“I was hoping this Christmas we could try to start fresh, without all the bullshit and drama our parents were trying to feed us.”
Mary closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay.”
“Forreal?”
The hesitant excitement in Deon’s voice made Mary smile and she turned to face him. They just looked at each other for a beat before Mary wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t shy away, holding her as tight as he’d ever held her before. They still had a lot to work through and much to discuss, but they could worry about that later. This was another long-secret Christmas wish coming true.
Deon pressed a long kiss to her temple before pulling back and looking over his shoulder. “Now, about my boy back there.”
Mary pursed her lips. “Don’t.”
“I’m just sayin’,” Deon said, squeezing her shoulders. “I wouldn’t call it a hookup.”
With that, Deon left the room, though not without staring down Joseph as he did. When she was finally alone with the pilot, Mary sat on the edge of the bed beside her still-empty suitcase. She looked at Joseph for a long moment before speaking.
“What should I call this, then?”
He walked silently toward her until she could feel the heat of him against her skin. Then he sank to his knees and Mary spread hers to give him room to fit between her legs. He looked up at her, his expression open and bare.
“How about a beginning?”
Mary smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his lips.
“I think I can do that.”
Epilogue
Two years later
Joseph refused to be jealous of a twenty-month-old. Or at least, admit to being jealous of a twenty-month-old. But his godson was ensconced in his favorite aunt’s bosom, and it was a bosom Joseph wanted to be ensconced in his damn self.
“Could you please stop mean-mugging the baby?”
Joseph now glowered at his girlfriend of two years. “DJ is verbal and ambulatory. He’s no longer a baby!”
Mary cut her eyes at him and rocked Deon Jr. even more. The “baby,” blissfully asleep and unaware of the strife rising between his godparents, burrowed his soft, little brown cheek into softer and much larger dark-brown swells hidden by a cream cashmere sweater. If his girlfriend
looked incredibly adorable in a ruby Santa’s helper hat and silver garland draped around her shoulders, that was entirely DJ and Gwen’s fault, so maybe he shouldn’t be too upset with DJ for basking in the fruits of his labor. And, truth be told, the sight made him wish, wish, wish.
“That’s better.”
Joseph’s smile matched her dewy one, and he sat down carefully next to Mary. Her brown eyes watched his movement, sparkling and bright like the lights shining on the Christmas tree in Deon and Layla’s living room. It was the second week in December, but his flight schedule forced them to celebrate Christmas early this year.
“So,” Joseph began, touching one of DJ’s tiny fingers and marveling how someone so small could fill them all with such love. “Just got confirmation I will have an extended layover in Boston on the 25th.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “Really!”
Though they had been together for years, his base was still in Fort Lauderdale. Then again, she spent as much time as she could in Florida as he could in Boston. She’d traveled to him the last time they’d spent time together. This time, it was his turn.
“Yes. So, wanna hang out in the airport hotel and get doted on for Christmas proper?”
She smoothed a hand along DJ’s back, rocking him. “Hmm, so romantic.”
“It will be,” Joseph said, scooting closer to kiss her cheek. “Especially if I’m able to call you my fiancée while you are.”
She froze, her breath stopping in her chest so baby DJ no longer rose and fell in a gentle rhythm. This pause made him fussy, and Joseph cooed at him as he plucked the toddler from Mary’s chest to place him on his own.
“Joseph.”
“Hmm?” he asked, kissing the crown of DJ’s head before looking at Mary. She was breathing again, her eyes wide and jaw ajar.
“Did you just ask me to marry you?”
“Yes,” Joseph said, smiling slightly. “I knew the only way to surprise you was to spring it on you without a big hoopla. That and something about seeing you with a baby makes me want to give you one of your own. With my name attached to it.”
“Joseph Jefferson is too much alliteration for my taste.”
He snorted.
“And I thought DJ wasn’t a baby.”
“Eh,” Joseph said, his smile widening when dark-brown eyes looked upon him and a drooly, chubby smile appeared seconds later. “Who needs to bother with semantics?”
Mary scooted closer until her soft body was pressed against his. She propped her chin on his shoulder to tweak DJ’s cheeks, making the little boy laugh. Joseph watched her, his heart swelling with love and yearning to be sitting on their couch with their baby a few years from now.
“You did surprise me,” Mary admitted, “but my ‘yes’ shouldn’t surprise you.” Her tone was as casual and lazy as a summer Sunday amid DJ’s squeals of delight. Joseph barely contained his own.
He kissed her softly, chuckling when DJ’s little fist socked him in the chin.
“No, but it humbles me and makes me extremely happy, sweetheart.”
“Hmm,” Mary said, and he thought she radiated joy too. “And did you know anything about this, DJ? Is that why your mama and daddy and sister ‘went to the store’ without us, huh? An accomplice to your uncle Joe?”
“STORE!”
“Yes, yes,” Joseph said dryly, fixing DJ into a one-arm cradle and bringing Mary into his other one. “Just as long as they don’t forget my eggnog.”
Mary groaned at that, with DJ mimicking her, and Joseph’s smile split his face. He had the woman he loved and the godson he’d die for in his arms. In a few years, he’d have them plus, hopefully, a god sibling for DJ and Gwen so they could all groan at his questionable holiday beverage choices.
Joseph couldn’t wait.
THE END
Sneak Peek: BE MINE
Ingrid Harris has never had a Valentine, but she’s determined to change that this year. Luckily she has three gorgeous—and single!—housemates she can ask to be her boo for the day, but she doesn’t realize asking one can lead to having them all.
But only if she wants.
So why settle for one Valentine when she can have three? And maybe for longer than just a day or a night?
This steamy interracial MFMM novella features a Black BBW going from friends to lovers with her three dreamy housemates for Valentine’s Day!
BE MINE: Chapter 1
“I want you to be my Valentine.”
Ingrid Harris’s heart dropped as she watched one of her best friends and housemates freeze at her question. The plate he was rinsing was now free of all of its debris, but Ade Olatunji didn’t move it from underneath the faucet. Cautiously, Ingrid reached across him and turned off the water. No need to waste it, after all.
“What’s brought this on?” he finally asked, looking at her. His eyes behind his black, thick-framed glasses were sharp as they stared at her. The darkest brown, they’d always looked upon her with warmth and affection, like he was always pleased to see her. She was always pleased to see him. Tall with broad shoulders and the smoothest ebony skin, Ade was rarely hurting for dates or partners. This was the first time in their entire three-year friendship that he wasn’t summarily partnered for the day of love, and Ingrid was shooting her shot.
She shrugged, leaning against the counter and looking at her fingers. Her skin was barely lighter than Ade’s, her undertone warmer than his cool onyx. The cut she’d gained on her right index finger last week during a gardening mishap was still healing, a jagged black halo around the new-forming skin. At the time, it’d been painful, with more blood than she’d assumed there would be oozing from the wound. Now, Ingrid would rather cut her finger a thousand times than answer Ade’s question.
“Valentine’s Day is in two weeks and I wanted to get my request in before you meet someone at the pharmacy and ask her out instead.”
He smiled at her. “You meet some of the best people at the pharmacy.”
She smiled and looked back at her finger. “That’s true.” They’d met at the pharmacy. She’d needed a refill on her allergy medicine and he’d been the incredibly handsome pharmacist to do it. The first few times, they’d only spoken enough to complete the transaction, but one day, they’d both sung the same lyric of a song that had been playing over the PA system, and that had been the start of an unexpected friendship.
Ade finally placed the plate in the dishwasher. It was the last dish. The television was on and loud in the den, the electronic beeps and crashes of a violent video game filling the air. Ingrid shook her head. The smack talking would commence soon after.
“Well, I can understand why you asked me and not them,” Ade deadpanned.
Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. “I’ve known you the longest.” She shrugged her shoulders again. “And you were the one less likely to freak out on me.”
“Why would I freak out on you?” Ade asked gently. “Or the others? We’re your friends.”
“Yes, but I’m not asking for simple friendship—not for Valentine’s Day,” Ingrid said, looking at her fingers again. Her throat grew tight with nerves and emotions she’d rather not explore right then, but she powered on. “Just for one night, I want to know what it means to be cherished. Romantically.”
Ade frowned at her. “Just one night?”
Ingrid shook her head, weary all of a sudden. Of course, she’d like the experience for longer than a night, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. If in the thirty-two years of her existence she hadn’t been cherished before, why would she think she’d be now? She was negotiating a Valentine’s Day date like a business deal for goodness sake!
“I’m not asking for a relationship beyond what we have now,” Ingrid hurried to explain. Finally pulling her focus away from her fingers, she looked at Ade again, hiding said fingers in the sleeves of her blue cashmere sweater. “But…” She sighed, then scoffed, tossing back her head. “You know what? I’m trippin’. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that. Ignore
me.”
Ingrid spun on her heels and rushed out of the kitchen into the den. The two men on the couch didn’t even look away from the television screen, which was just as well. She grabbed her coat and purse, slinging the latter onto her shoulder and folding the former in the crook of her elbow.
“Y’all have a good night,” she called, hoping to make her escape from the door.
“Ingrid!”
A few seconds later, the house was dead silent. Though she didn’t want to turn and look at Ade, she did, wincing when the others stared at them in complete bewilderment.
“What’s goin’ on?” B. B. asked, his blue eyes filling with concern as they gazed upon her. Boyd Bigelow was her big, blond teddy bear despite his massive size. A former college football player, he’d decided to drop the pads in favor of drawing pencils and protractors. Along with Choi Ye-Jun, the final housemate who was now glaring at Ade, they owned a boutique architecture firm. Their offices were conveniently a few blocks away from the house they all shared—all but rent-free thanks to her.
“Nothing,” Ingrid said, giving him a wide smile. She knew she was in trouble when instead of smiling, B. B. frowned at her. Throwing down his controls beside him on the couch, he stood, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and why were her eyes drawn there? His hip bones were defined, the skin taut along the sinew. She snapped them back up as B. B. approached and placed his huge hands on her shoulders.
“Naw, you’ve been quiet and squirrely all evenin’. What’s up? Someone me and Ye gotta beat up?”
A surprised bubble of laughter escaped as she leaned around B. B. to look at Ye-Jun. He raised an inky eyebrow at her, his muscular shoulders rippling as he leaned forward on his knees.
“Time and place, baby,” he said with a shrug. “Just tell me the time and place.”
Ingrid shook her head, bringing her attention back to B. B. “This isn’t high school. There’s nobody to beat up.”
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