Quentin cupped her face between the palms of his hands. “So, do I!” he said as he kissed her mouth. “So, do I!”
“Now, Jasmine’s the one I’ve always had to keep my eye on. Baby girl could be fast if you didn’t put the brakes on her,” Mama Pearl was saying. “Them two could get into some things when they were together but for the most part my Harper was a good girl.”
Miss Alice laughed. “I know Troy and Quentin gave Everett a run for his money. And, Dwayne was quite the scamp, too!”
“I used to think boys were far easier to raise than girls,” Mrs. Porter interjected, “but my own son definitely proved me wrong there.”
“He seems to be doing quite well,” Miss Alice noted, turning her gaze to Dwayne and Rachel who were sitting at a table across the way. Dwayne was sitting with one arm around her chair and the other casually rubbing her pregnant belly. Rachel was leaning with her head on his shoulder and the two looked quite content.
Mrs. Porter nodded. “I think so. He had me worried for a while but he’s proving himself to be quite the man. It’s helped that Quentin has been around to support him.”
“Like father like son,” Miss Alice noted with a reflective smile. “Quentin takes right after his daddy.”
“Everett was a good man,” Mrs. Porter said, “and a good friend. I owe a lot to him. He gave me the strength to get out of my situation.”
Mama Pearl reached out and tapped Mrs. Porter’s hand. “No woman deserves to have a man beating on her. You did the right thing to leave.”
Mrs. Porter nodded. “It was hard but it was the best thing I could have ever done.”
Miss Alice took a sip of her coffee. “I’ll be honest, Evelyn, I had some concerns about those two,” she said, gesturing back to Dwayne and Rachel. She tossed Dwayne’s mother a knowing look.
Mrs. Porter met her stare. “So did I, because you know as well as I did that Dwayne wanted to be just like his father.”
“Did he want to be just like him or was he looking for his daddy’s approval?” Mama Pearl questioned. “’Cause my Harper spent most of her life trying to get her mama’s approval. That’s why she never got to know her daddy the way she should have. Broke my heart.”
Mrs. Porter paused in reflection before she answered. “It was probably a little bit of both.” She blew a deep sigh turning to eye her only son. Then she smiled. “Dwayne can act a fool if he wants to but my new daughter-in-law will have something for him. Turns out that little girl is smarter than I thought.”
“What do you mean?” Miss Alice questioned.
“Dwayne didn’t sign a prenuptial. If the marriage doesn’t work out Rachel will get fifty percent and child support for my grandbaby and if she’s as good of an attorney as I’m told, I imagine he’ll be paying quite a hefty amount in alimony as well. He’ll definitely be his father’s son then,” she said with a little chuckle. “Like I warned her, if a man hurts you with his hands, hitting him in his wallet can be sweet retribution. Ask me how I know!”
The women laughed heartily.
“They look like they’re really in love,” Mama Pearl said. “It just warms my heart to see young people in love like that.”
“I do believe it’s love,” Miss Alice said. “And I know Quentin and Harper are going to have a lifetime of happiness. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the other two.”
“And we’ll send up much prayer,” Mama Pearl added.
Mrs. Todd chimed in. “Just look at ’em. They’s a pretty, pretty couple. And Everett’s baby girl is a beautiful bride!”
Miss Alice smiled. “Yes, she is. And Quentin is a dashing groom.”
“Everett would have been tickled to death to see both his babies so happy,” Mrs. Todd said.
The other three women nodded in agreement.
Mrs. Todd reached into her purse and pulled out a large, silver flask. She tossed a glance over one shoulder and then the other. “This seems like a perfect time fo’ a toast,” she said as she unscrewed the cap and poured a shot into her coffee cup.
Mrs. Porter pushed her cup across the table. “I’ll have some of that.”
Miss Alice and Mama Pearl both did the same.
“Just this once,” Mama Pearl exclaimed. “It is a special occasion!”
And laughter rang heartily through the room.
Troy was standing outside the bakery door when Rachel and Dwayne stepped out, saying good-bye. “Leaving?” he asked as Dwayne wrapped a lace shawl around Rachel’s shoulders.
Dwayne nodded. “We are. Rachel’s not feeling well.”
Troy shifted his gaze to study the woman’s face. “You’re not in labor, are you?”
She smiled, shaking her head. “No, not yet. Just tired and feeling very large.”
He smiled. “You look good though.”
“Thank you very much. So when are we going to be doing this for you?”
“Doing what?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Getting married!”
Standing behind her, Dwayne vehemently shook his head. He waved his hands in the air. Troy grinned and when Rachel looked over her shoulder toward her husband, Dwayne stopped, pretending to be serious in the conversation.
“You’re not funny, Dwayne,” Rachel said.
He laughed. “Just helping a brother out,” he said, his hands lifted in surrender.
“You need to think about finding someone special to settle down with,” she said. “You can’t be an eligible bachelor your whole life.”
“It’s actually working for me, Rachel. I’m not sure why I would want to fix what’s not broken,” Troy answered.
Dwayne nodded. “Enjoy it while you can,” he said.
Rachel tossed him a look. “What are you trying to say, Dwayne?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to say anything, I said what I had to say. Troy should enjoy being single while he can.”
Troy laughed. “Thank you!” he chimed as Rachel rolled her eyes at the two of them.
“Well, I don’t agree,” she started. “I think . . .”
Dwayne shook his head, cutting her off. “It’s time to say good night, baby. Say good night, please.”
She rolled her eyes a second time, sucking her teeth. “Tch! Good night, Troy.”
Dwayne extended his hand and the two men bumped fists, embracing in that one-shoulder hug men were renowned for.
Troy leaned and wrapped Rachel in a warm embrace. He gave her tummy a light pat. “You three be safe, please.”
He watched as the two walked off hand in hand. A slow smile pulled at his lips. He turned to stare through the bakery windows. The crowd was still going strong and he laughed out loud as he watched Harper and Quentin doing the Booty Scoot line dance with the old women in the room.
As he stood in reflection, his arms crossed over his chest, one hand cupped under his chin, a soft voice resonated from the sidewalk behind him. “She’s a beautiful bride! They look very happy.”
Tossing a glance over his shoulder, Troy wasn’t expecting to see the two young women who were standing together. Both were dressed in hijabs, traditional Islamic garments that represented their religious beliefs. Covered from head to toe, all that was visible were their hands and eyes. He smiled politely and he sensed that the woman who had spoken was smiling back. Her companion pulled at her elbow, seeming uncomfortable about talking to a stranger. The hesitancy showed in her young eyes.
Troy’s gaze moved back to the woman who had spoken and he responded, “That’s my baby brother and his new wife. They are very happy,” he said politely.
The woman’s eyes smiled in response. “We didn’t mean to interrupt. Our father had told us about this bakery and my sister and I were hoping it might have been open.”
Troy nodded. “Not a problem. It’s closed today but you’re both welcome to come inside for some wedding cake,” he offered.
The sister shook her head, pulling on her sibling’s arm. The more outgoing woman shook her off, her gaze indicatin
g her annoyance.
“Thank you,” she said, “but my sister and I wouldn’t want to interrupt. We’ll come back again when you’re open for business.”
Troy had turned to face them and he locked gazes with the young woman. Her eyes smiled a second time.
The woman had the most stunning gaze. Her eyes were wide, sitting against a pale caramel canvas. The color was a light hazel with a hint of green and they shimmered beneath the streetlights that had just come on outside the businesses that lined Beale Street. He didn’t realize he was staring until the nervous sister called out the woman’s name.
“We have to go!” the young woman whined.
Troy shifted his stare from one to the other. “Will you ladies be okay by yourself?” he questioned.
The older sister nodded. “We will. Thank you,” she said as they turned to go back in the direction they’d come from.
As they reached the corner, he suddenly called after them. “Please come back,” he called. “We’ll be open again tomorrow.”
The woman lifted her hand in an easy wave, then turned, her sister pulling her along. Troy watched until both had disappeared from sight. He smiled, nodded his head, and lifted his eyes to the sun setting in the distance. He whispered a quick prayer skyward, then headed back into the bakery. Inside, the band was blowing a joyful noise and Troy jumped onto the dance floor, sliding and gliding with his family.
Quentin had rented a luxury suite at The Peabody Memphis for their wedding night. The legendary hotel, renowned for its elegant décor and charming ambiance, was the perfect getaway to start their life as a married couple. Its close proximity to Beale Street and the bakery allowed them the feel of a getaway all the while enabling them to get back to business quickly. It had been Harper’s idea since the wall between the bakery and building next door was scheduled to be demolished the following morning and renovation to their new business spaces would begin.
They’d left their wedding reception early, kissing their family and friends good-bye just in time to see the Peabody ducks take their early evening stroll across the red carpet. Harper was still giddy with excitement, the entire day having fulfilled every one of her little-girl dreams. She’d had the perfect engagement, the perfect wedding, the perfect celebration, and had married the most perfect man.
She’d asked for a fire in the fireplace and one burned nicely, the glow of it dimly lighting the room. Soft blues playing from the surround stereo in the living space and the soothing crackle of the firewood were the only sounds that reverberated through the suite.
Harper felt just a little giddy from the little bit of champagne she’d drunk, her whole body warm and toasty. Quentin eyed her as she lay across the sofa, her legs propped high. Her bare feet peeked beneath the hem of her gown and as she sprawled comfortably against the cushions he thought she was absolutely ravishing. Her wedding gown revealed enough to excite every one of his senses but left much to the imagination.
The intensity of the look he was giving her was melting and Harper felt like her whole body was shifting to putty. They locked gazes as he entered the room and she felt her breath catch in her chest. Heat wafted from the center of her core and Harper imagined that every day with a man that beautiful was going to be a very good day.
Moving to her side, Quentin extended his hand and pulled her into his arms. Harper felt herself disappearing into his beautiful eyes, his stare so deep she couldn’t help but get lost. There was nothing but love for her in the gaze he was giving her, the depth of it running shivers deep through her soul. Wrapping his arms around her he let his hands lightly trail the line of her body, drawing his fingers across her buttocks, up her back to the curvature of her neck.
Quentin gently caressed her face, trailing his finger across her profile, his gaze still locked with hers, and then he leaned forward and kissed her softly, taking her breath away. Harper gasped, savoring the softness of his mouth on her mouth. As he probed the line of her teeth with his tongue she parted her lips ever so slightly and allowed him in. The kiss slowly intensified and Quentin trailed his lips and tongue to kiss her neck. As her head fell back he caressed her throat with his mouth, his touch so soft and sensuous that Harper felt as if the lightest feathers were tickling her skin.
He kissed her collarbone and each shoulder, caressing her until her whole body tingled. As he held her close to him his hands slowly released each button down her back, the gown beginning to fall open. When the back was finally open Quentin eased her dress off her shoulders, allowing it to fall off her arms and drop to the floor. He gently touched her, caressing each breast. He lowered his head to lap at one nipple and then the other, kneading the tissue as gently as he kneaded the phyllo dough for his favorite baklava pastry.
Harper gasped as Quentin swept her into his arms. Her mouth locked with his as he took her into the oversize bathroom. He set her gently back onto her feet as he turned off the faucet he’d left running, the spa tub filled with warm water and bubbles.
“I drew a bath for us,” Quentin whispered as he helped her step out of her panties. His fingers gently tickled her delicate folds and Harper felt her knees quiver, threatening to send her to the floor. Her body fell against his for support and he let her lean on him as his hands danced across her curves.
Harper held his hand as he helped her into the tub. Her nipples had hardened and Quentin drew his hand through the water, palming the wetness over one and then the other. Harper smiled, the sensations teasing. Her breathing was becoming labored and he kissed her again, still dressed in his tux as he rested on the edge of the porcelain pool.
Harper pulled at his jacket and shirt, her damp hands undoing the buttons. Quentin smiled and stood up, slipping out of his clothes. His skin was flushed from the heat in the room and every muscle had hardened with wanting. She smiled, love and desire painting her expression as he stepped into the warm water with her. As he sat down, Harper eased between his legs, leaning back against his hardness. The water lapped over her breastline.
Wrapping his arms around her, Quentin lay back, savoring the sensation of their two bodies pressed together, heat from the water and from their rising desire surrounding them. He held her, both of them occasionally drawing handfuls of water over each other’s torso and limbs.
“How do you feel?” Quentin asked.
Harper smiled as she snuggled against him. “I feel amazing. I didn’t think it was possible to be as happy as I am this very moment.”
He nodded his head. “I know the feeling,” he said as he planted a kiss against her hair.
“Was it worth the wait?” Harper questioned.
Quentin chuckled. “I think our waiting made everyone else comfortable. I think you and I knew from the beginning.”
She nodded. “I know I did.”
Quentin tightened the embrace he had around her torso. “I love you. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
Harper wrapped her arms around his. “I love you more,” she answered.
As Harper drifted into the soft lull of her new husband’s breathing she couldn’t imagine a more perfect ending.
Don’t miss the next book in the
Just Desserts series . . .
Craving Temptation
Available in August 2014!
1
Troy Elliott was not expecting the chaos that greeted him when he came through the doors of Just Desserts, the thriving Beale Street bakery that he co-owned with his brother Quentin and Quentin’s new wife Harper. But chaos reigned as Quentin and Harper stood staring into a massive hole that had been cut through the wall that bordered the building next door.
Troy moved to stand between them, staring where they stared. “Hey,” he chimed cheerily. “What’s going on?”
Quentin shook his head from side to side, tossing a nod of his head toward Harper.
She responded excitedly. “They broke through the walls today! This expansion is going to be so perfect. The contractors promised me they’ll be able to frame o
ut this entrance by Wednesday, then we’ll be able to take down this dust sheet and be right back to business.”
“They still have some work to do in the new building. I can just hear the health department now. We won’t be taking down the dust sheet,” Quentin stated. “We’re losing money being closed, Harper!”
Harper rolled her eyes. “It’s only two days, Quentin.”
Troy laughed. “You know they say a renovation can kill a marriage. You two sure you wanted to do this so soon after saying your vows?”
Harper waved a dismissive hand at him. “This won’t challenge our marriage one bit,” she said.
The two brothers locked eyes, Quentin’s wide as he stared at his sibling. The two men suddenly burst out laughing.
“You two are not funny,” Harper chided. “I’m not talking to either one of you now.” She pushed past the plastic wall sheet into the other space, gesturing for the building contractor’s attention.
Quentin moved behind the bakery’s large counter, moving toward the coffeepot. He poured a cup for himself and one for his brother. Troy crossed to the other side of the room, dropping down into a seat at the corner table.
“So what’s on your agenda today?” Quentin asked, moving to take a seat across from his brother.
Troy took a sip of his morning brew. “I have to close out some cases this morning. Then I have a meeting with my election committee.”
“Mayor Elliott. That’s going to be something. Pop would have been proud,” Quentin said, referring to their mentor and surrogate parent. Pop had also been Harper’s biological father.
The late Everett “Pop” Donovan had been the brain trust behind the bakery, dedicating his life to his business and his two foster sons. His sudden death a year earlier had taken all three of them by surprise and had cemented their familial bond in ways neither of them could have anticipated. Both men enjoyed telling people how Quentin had married their sister, the reactions always priceless. It made for a good laugh out loud moment.
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