“Good. Damn good. Whew.”
Chapter 12
Four weeks later
Anson pulled to a stop at the gas station on the main road in Holtsville, parking in front of the small store. “You want something?” he asked Mona, who was still deep into her work on her iPad even though it was Saturday and they were headed to a wedding.
“Lord, do I miss Malik,” she said, glancing over at Anson from the passenger seat.
“I thought you liked the young lady you hired to assist you,” Anson said.
“She’s no Malik,” she said, picking up her cell phone.
Anson chuckled as he climbed from the car and entered the store. “Afternoon, Cyrus,” he called to the grizzly old man behind the counter on a stool in front of the register.
“Afternoon,” he called back.
Anson grabbed a bottle of orange juice and a banana nut muffin as he usually did every morning on his way to work. Their shower that morning had quickly switched from a hygienic necessity to a freak fest and they were running too far behind to eat before they left his house. He was almost to the counter when he backtracked and picked up the same for Mona. She had a bad habit of denying his offer to get her something but then asking for some of his.
“You’re not going to Kaitlyn Strong’s wedding, Cy?” Anson asked as he set his items on the counter.
“Nope,” he said. “I figured there would be some extra traffic in little old Holtsville, so I decided to stay open and offer my services to the attendees if need be.”
“A businessman,” Anson said.
“That’s all for you, Anson?” Cyrus asked, leaning forward to use one arthritic finger to hit the keys on the outdated cash register.
Anson nodded, waiting patiently out of respect for his elder and because Cyrus Dobbs was an institution in Holtsville. He was as much a part of the fabric of the small southern town as the man who originally settled it back in the early 1800s. For as long as Anson could remember, Cyrus had worked at the little store. First as the gas attendant and in time he became the owner. It was through his hard work that he sent his lone son to college. He had plenty to be proud of, and Anson respected the old man and his homespun wisdom immensely.
He would never forget when he was eighteen and his little hunk of junk truck overheated as he passed through the small town from neighboring Summerville, where he had been looking for a second job. Out of frustration he had filled the old man in on that day’s woes. Cyrus helped him fix his truck and guided him to the Jamison brothers to look for work.
“Glad to see your foot done healed,” Cyrus said, accepting Anson’s cash and handing him his change.
“I’m a brand-new man,” Anson said.
“I don’t know about all that,” Cyrus said, his teeth far too bright and big to be real.
Anson chuckled.
“Give this to that pretty girl of yours,” the old man said, rising from the stool to pick up one of a dozen different carved wooden figures sitting in the window.
Anson accepted the winged cupid, amazed that the carving was so detailed even with Cyrus’s hands suffering from arthritis.
“Don’t get jealous,” Cyrus said with a laugh.
“You think you can steal my girl, old man?” Anson asked as he picked up the plastic bag holding his items.
Cyrus shrugged one shoulder and winked.
Leaving the store, Anson walked over to the passenger side.
Mona held the cell phone from her face and lowered the window.
“Got something for you,” he said, glancing back at Cyrus looking at them through the window with a mischievous twinkle in his ebony eyes.
“Oh, I’m not hungry,” she said, eyeing the bag he held.
Anson extended his hand and opened it to reveal the wooden cupid.
“Let me call you back, Reeba,” she said, before ending her call and reaching to pluck the figure from his hand.
“Compliments of Cyrus,” Anson said.
“Awwwww,” she said, opening the car door and nearly hitting Anson with it as she climbed out.
He followed her back inside the store.
Cyrus’s smile was already big, and toothy, and smug as hell.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Cyrus,” she said, going behind the counter to kiss his cheek and then hug him close.
Anson just shook his head as the old man winked at him. “You are so welcome,” Cyrus said.
Mona continued to study it as she gave Cyrus one last kiss to his cheek and made her way out of the store. “Isn’t Mr. Cyrus just the cutest thing?” she asked Anson before she left the store.
Cyrus held up two gnarled fingers. “Two kisses and a hug from your woman,” he bragged, chuckling.
“One of these days the men around here are going to get tired of you trying to steal our women with that big smile and those figurines,” Anson joked, pushing the door open.
“If that’s all it takes, then y’all got other”—he cleared his throat—“things to worry about.”
With one last wave and a laugh, Anson left the store.
“It’s a beautiful day for a wedding,” Mona said as they walked inside the elaborately decorated sanctuary of Holtsville Baptist Church.
“Yeah, it’s a nice day out,” Anson said as they took a seat on a middle pew.
“You’d think you would be in a better mood with the cast off,” she said to him as she smiled and waved at people she knew.
He crossed his leg and motioned down at his foot, showing her how well it was working by circling it in his handmade leather shoes.
Mona pretended to applaud before looking around at the elaborate floral arrangements transforming the church. She loved how although it was mid-May, the colors were not soft and light colors, but deep and rich plums that matched the stained glass windows, wooden pews and floors, and the carpet runner down the aisle. “They really went all out with the decorations,” she said, eyeing the altar covered in fresh flowers and the small round arrangement of flowers dangling from the end of each pew with a thick satin ribbon.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less for the Strong family’s only daughter,” he said. “Especially Kaitlyn.”
Mona nodded. Since her move back to Holtsville she was kind of in her own bubble, but her sister Reeba had filled her in on the family of wealthy ranchers. She was now well-equipped with plenty of backstory. Well, as much as Reeba knew from the outside peering in.
She just needed to put faces to the names. A fun little game of match-up to keep her mind occupied while watching the wedding of people she didn’t know from a can of paint.
She spotted four men whose hair was flecked with silver and who all shared rugged good looks and she knew these were the Strong brothers. They all sat in one row, each of the four with a beautiful woman by his side. Well, Reeba was right—they are fine.
She just couldn’t tell which was which. Not that it mattered. The juiciest thing Reeba gave up about each one was how much they loved their wives. No drama. No scandals. No breakups. No whispers of affairs or thirsty side chicks.
Mona continued to look around the church.
“I wonder if this many people will come to our wedding,” she said almost to herself as the music began to play.
“Say what?” Anson asked, leaning over to hear her more clearly as the pianist began to play.
The aunts had forewarned Mona to keep her mouth shut and not to tell Anson about how she was interpreting her visions. She bit her lip and shifted her eyes left and right. “I meant, you know, if we work out and if . . . you know, if we . . . if we get married,” she stumbled.
The double doors at the back of the church opened and they turned in their pew as the members of the wedding party began to enter. Throughout the ceremony, Mona found herself looking at Anson’s handsome profile. The couple’s words of devotion, trust, commitment, and most importantly love touched upon everything she’d ever wanted for herself. And now that she knew with whom she wanted to share her future, she
wanted them all the more.
She reached for Anson’s hand and clasped it within her own as the groom raised the veil and kissed his bride.
Anson chuckled into his glass of champagne as he watched Mona continue to stare at Chloe across the room as if she was one of the seven wonders of the world. He leaned over to her. “Close your mouth, baby,” he whispered into her ear before returning to his own conversation with Devon and Deshawn about their ideas for the design of their new corporate headquarters to be stationed in Charleston.
“Oh, shit,” he heard her swear beside him.
He looked to see Chloe and Anika making their way over to their husbands. When he saw Mona digging her iPhone out of her bag, he lightly touched her wrist and subtly shook his head.
He knew one of the things the former supermodel loved about her return to her mother’s hometown was that once the townspeople got over such a huge celebrity moving to their small city, they gave her privacy and let her blend in without hounding her for photos and autographs.
The Chloe Bolton she was today was known around Holtsville as someone who could cook her ass off and always won the most prizes at the annual fair. They respected Chloe Bolton the celebrity, but they had come to love Chloe Jamison the down-home girl. And that’s just what she wanted after her semi-retirement nearly fifteen years ago.
“Excuse me, folks,” Anson said, turning to their wives. “I want to introduce you both to my date, Mona Ballinger. Mona, this is Chloe and Anika.”
“Nice to meet you,” they both said with warm smiles, extending their hands.
He swallowed back his annoyance when Mona accepted each woman’s hand, closing her eyes as she did. It was just for a second or two and not long enough for anyone to notice, but he knew she just did her little love vision thingy.
“I hope you don’t mind, but we came to get our husbands to hit the dance floor,” Anika said.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Mona said, no longer starstruck. “The band is really good.”
They watched as the couples began to slow dance to the band’s rendition of “Be without You” by Mary J. Blige.
“Question,” he said as soon as they were alone.
“Sure,” Mona said, swaying to the music and snapping her fingers.
“Let’s just say I actually believed this whole premonition thing. Isn’t it a little intrusive to double-check if married folks are with their soul mates?” he asked, doing the air quotes.
She squinted her eyes as she looked at him. “Really with the air quotes?” she asked, arching a brow. “Is it the return of the infamous stick?”
She moved around him to lift the hem of his blazer.
Anson brushed her hands away.
“If you don’t believe it how can you be annoyed about it, Mr. Contradiction?” Mona asked.
She had a point.
“Not feeling so nice and fuzzy and cozy,” she said with a pout. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed the same pouting lips to his jawline to kiss him there.
Anson stiffened his body as he felt his annoyance with her fading fast.
She lifted up on her toes. “Maybe I need to get you back in the tub and help you remember your promise while you scuba dive again,” she whispered in his ear before softly biting the lobe.
Mona leaned back and winked at him as she fought not to smile.
“Next time you go underwater,” he said, his stance softening as he brought his hands up to grasp her waist.
“Oh, my,” she said saucily as she backed him onto the dance floor as “Drunk in Love,” by Beyoncé, started up.
“Surfboard . . . surfboard,” they sang together, laughing as he twirled her on the dance floor.
“Is that Anson Tyler dancing?” Chloe said to Anika.
Anika instantly found him on the floor with her eyes, and her mouth gaped. “Lawd, quit,” she said softly in surprise as they watched him raise his hand and twirl his date.
“Ladies,” Devon said. He and Deshawn were looking at their wives, both men ready to go back out on the dance floor.
“So he found the right one, huh?” Chloe said, happy for the teenaged boy who once worked for their husbands, who grew into an educated, well-groomed, successful man who now worked with them.
Devon and Deshawn shared a look as their wives continued to speculate on Anson’s love life.
“Be right back,” Devon said.
“I don’t know her. Do you?” Anika asked.
“No,” Chloe said.
“Pretty as all get-out though,” Chloe said.
“Reminds me of myself . . . a few years ago,” Anika said.
“Just a few?” Chloe asked.
They grabbed each other’s hands and laughed.
The band began to play “Dance with My Father” and Kael Strong led his daughter onto the dance floor for their dance.
Chloe glanced over her shoulder and did a double take. “Awww, look, Nik,” she sighed.
Across the room Devon and Deshawn both bowed at the waist. The ladies looked on as Devon and Chloe’s fifteen-year-old daughter, Nia, and Deshawn and Anika’s ten-year-old daughter, Lillian, sweetly curtsied before they took their father’s offered hands and began dancing as well.
“Nia is such a daddy’s girl,” Chloe said softly. “I really love that she has the type of loving and concerned father that I always wanted for myself growing up.”
Anika hugged her friend to her side, knowing she needed it in that moment. “And look at my little lady. Deshawn got hell on his hands with that feisty little thing.”
“Hmph. She got it honest,” Chloe said, with a playful side-eye.
Anika just laughed, unable to disagree.
“Wanna dance, Ma?”
Anika looked up to find her fourteen-year-old son, Tyson, standing beside her. “Yes,” she said, taking his hand and gliding out onto the dance floor.
“Aunt Chloe?” Tyree, Tyson’s identical twin, asked with a big grin.
She let him lead her onto the dance floor, thinking the sight of all of them was just the type of scenario Devon’s deceased grandmother, their beloved Nana Lil, would love to be around.
Chloe could swear she detected the scent of Nana Lil’s favorite lilac perfume, and she knew she was there with them in spirit.
Mona walked over to where Anson sat as she waved the bridal bouquet that she’d caught among all the single ladies. He smiled at her, having learned over their time together that she was competitive. He was just thankful no one caught an elbow because she blocked them out like they were balling.
“Congrats, baby,” he said, as she sat down beside him and lifted the bouquet to her face to inhale its sweet fragrance.
“And my God, that smells so good,” she said, placing the flowers near his face.
“Whatever that scent is on your skin smells better,” he said after a quick sniff.
“It’s citrus. My aunts make each of us our bath and body products in our favorite scent, and mine is citrus,” she said.
“Remind me to thank them,” he said, leaning over to nuzzle his face against her neck.
She smiled and leaned into his affection as she settled her hand on his thigh. “They look so happy,” she said as she watched the bride and groom slow dancing to “Lately” by Tyrese.
With a final kiss to her neck, Anson lifted his head and looked at the couple in the center of the dance floor. “Yeah, they do,” he said. “I’m really happy for Kaitlyn.”
“And they’re soul mates,” she added.
Anson stiffened and shifted away from their bodies touching, reached for his glass of champagne and took a healthy sip. What Mona failed to understand in her need to stick to the concept of “real love” were the seeds she planted in him on her sincerity in their relationship.
“You about ready to go?” he said, rising to his feet.
Most of the wedding attendees had begun to leave with just the close family left behind to enjoy the last of the good times.
She looke
d surprised, but she rose to her feet as well. “I’m ready if you’re ready,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He looked down at the move and clenched his teeth before he freed his hand to walk away.
He felt Mona grab his elbow and stopped.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, her eyes filled with concern.
“Nothing,” he lied, capturing her hand in his and gently tugging her to follow him out of the tent.
“Anson, you didn’t even say good-bye or thank them for the invite,” she said, almost running to catch up with his long stride.
“I was raised by addicts, not wolves,” he said. “I don’t need etiquette lessons, Mona.”
She jerked her hand free.
Anson turned by the passenger door of his car.
“What crawled up your ass just that quick?” she snapped.
“Besides the stick you mean,” he said, turning back to reach for the door handle.
Mona rushed ahead and brushed away his hand to open the door for herself. Her face was tight as she slid in the passenger seat and closed the door.
Anson grimaced as he came around the car to climb behind the wheel.
Mona’s arms were crossed over her chest and she looked out the window as if he didn’t exist. Her stance was angry, but she couldn’t hide the hurt she felt from brimming in her eyes.
He started the car and they left the Strong family ranch and headed across Holtsville. His eyes kept falling on her even as he drove, and she remained like stone, not even fully sitting back against the seat, as if just being in the car was an offense to her.
Mona completely lived in the moment and flourished in whatever emotion reigned, Anson reflected. When she was happy, she was really happy. When she was mad, she was extremely mad. And when she’s sexy, she’s phenomenally sexy.
“Dinner was a few hours ago,” he said, reaching to clasp her hand. “You want to stop at Donnie’s and pick up something to eat?”
Mona jerked her hand away and turned her head to eye him hard before she purposefully looked away and focused her stare back out the window.
Want, Need, Love Page 15