He brought her into the living room and had her sit down while he got the gift. “Close your eyes, baby,” he’d said and she held her left hand out, palm side down. Then she jumped as Titus set her present in her lap. She opened her eyes and stared down at a tiny…dog. The dog had stared back without moving, and then its tail wagged. Her eyebrows had flown up and she picked it up and turned it over on its back.
“What are you doing, Paris?”
“I’m trying to see where the batteries go. This is a toy, right?” The little dog had squirmed and barked and she had seen at once that it was a real live dog. “Oh, you brought me a puppy,” she said in an odd voice. “Something that has to be walked and fed and housebroken and will no doubt eat shoes. A real puppy.”
Titus could still remember the dismay he’d felt as he made a mental note to get Trey as soon as possible. “He’s half Pomeranian and half cock-a-poo. I got him from a breeder in Kansas City so I’ve been calling him K.C., which you can change if you want.” Paris had insisted that she liked the puppy, which she didn’t put down the rest of the night, but Titus was just not sure. He thought he’d made a dreadful mistake until Paris called him the next morning at an ungodly hour weeping uncontrollably.
“He’s gone, Titus, he’s disappeared! I think he got out when I got the newspaper and he ran out into traffic and he’s probably killed and it’s all my fault,” she sobbed. Titus had soothed her as best he could and broke every speed limit in the city getting to her house. She was still crying and distraught as he looked all over the house. She was overcome by joy when he found the puppy sound asleep in the bedroom snuggled under the afghan, which had slipped off the foot of the bed. “Kasey! Oh you found my baby! Why did you do that, you naughty doggie, you can’t scare mommy like that, you scared me half to death, you know that?” She hugged the little dog while it eagerly licked her all over and was plain that the little dog meant a lot to her. The three of them ended up on the sofa with Titus holding Paris and Paris holding Kasey. Paris rubbed her head against Titus’s shoulder and sighed with contentment.
“I would have died if anything happened to Kasey,” she said. Titus finally said what was on his mind.
“I didn’t think you were that crazy about him,” he admitted.
Paris had smiled sleepily and given Titus a gentle kiss. “This is the cutest doggie I’ve ever seen in my life and I’m going to spoil him rotten. I admit I was hoping he’d be something in 18k gold with a big stone for my engagement finger, but just because I was surprised doesn’t mean I don’t love him. He’s from you, how could I not love him?” She nestled closer to Titus and closed her eyes. “I love you so much, how could I not love anything you give me?”
Titus hadn’t followed her into slumber; he had too much to think about. Now as he lay in her bed, waiting for her to come back to his arms, he thought some more about his master plan. A lot of women wouldn’t like what he was going to do, but a lot of women weren’t like Paris. She loved surprises and she loved him, so he had every reason to believe this was going to work.
Kasey scampered in the door before Paris, who was carrying a tray with Titus’s breakfast. In the weeks since her birthday held gone from being a cute puppy to being unbearably adorable. He was a pretty buff shade and his fur was thick and wavy and he didn’t shed. His ears stood straight up, perfectly inverted Vs, and his dark eyes were shiny with good health, as was his heart shaped little nose. He always looked like he was smiling, especially when he’d done some mischief. As Paris predicted, he did have a fondness for chewing her shoes and every time he did it she’d make Titus replace the pair. He’d had no idea how much a woman’s shoes could cost, but he didn’t care. He had plenty of money and all he card about was her happiness. He just hoped she truly felt the same way about him, considering what he was about to do.
“You going to spoil me, bringing me breakfast in bed. I haven’t had this since I was about five and I had the measles or chicken pox or something,” he said as he eyed the pretty and appetizing meal she’d brought him; crisp waffles with apple butter, smoked sausage, scrambled eggs and grits, plus a carafe of coffee and a glass of orange juice. “You’re so wonderful, Rosy, that’s why I love you so much,” he said quietly.
She was curled up next to him by now and he was touched to see her eyes fill with tears. “Baby, please don’t cry, what’s the matter?”
“That’s the first time you ever said that to me,” she said, wiping the tears away with the corner of the sheet. He held out his hand and pulled her closer to him for a kiss. “That’s just the first time you heard it,” he said softly. “It doesn’t mean that’s the first time I said it, or that I just this minute realized it. I love you like no one else in the whole world, Paris. I had no idea I was capable of feeling like this. I adore you, Rosy.”
The tears were running freely by then and she insisted that he eat. “I slaved over that, those aren’t Eggos, you know. Eat your breakfast and then I’m going to have my way with you for the rest of the day, how’s that sound?”
It sounded fine to Kasey who barked agreeably, making both of them laugh.
***
A few days later, Paris was about to do the audience warm-up in Twyla’s place because Twyla had a sore throat. Every day before taping, Twyla would come out and chat with the audience and get them primed for the show they were about to see, but today it would be impossible, she sounded like her throat was lined with sandpaper. In her now-raspy voice, Twyla told her there was a man in the audience who wanted Paris to read a special note to the woman he loved and Paris’s eyes lit up. There was nothing better than romance and she was always happy to help it along. She looked her absolute best that day for some reason. Her hair was especially lustrous and arranged just so, her makeup was flawless and she was wearing a new suit in lipstick red with a sexy skirt and a jacket that showed off her curves beautifully. She went out to do the customary sound checks and engage in chitchat with the audience, and then announced that she had a something to read to a very special viewer.
“It’s so special, in fact, that I’m going to read it on the air. My director tells me it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever read and if Twyla says it, she means it because she takes her romance seriously. So we’ve got a lot to look forward to in about two minutes!”
Once the musical introduction played and the show began, Paris turned to the camera and smiled the 100-watt smile everyone in the country associated with her. “This probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever participated in,” she told her viewers. “One of our audience members has something to say to his sweetheart and I’m going to help him. She turned to the studio audience and began reading the letter. “My beautiful girl, this is long overdue. I’ve known how I feel about you for a long time, but I was afraid to tell you, afraid that I’d wake up one morning and realize our relationship has all been a dream. I’ve been guarding my feelings the way a miser guards his money and I can’t do it anymore. Your sweetness makes the world a sweeter place to be. Your kindness makes me want to be a better man for you. Your laughter makes my heart soar and your smile outshines the sun. I don’t know what I did to win your heart, but I will be forever grateful that you think I’m man enough for you. With all my heart, I’ll love you until I take my last breath. I am yours, now and forever.”
The audience was sniffling and ooh-ing and aah-ing after the beautiful declaration and Paris was having a hard time controlling her own emotions. “Twyla was right, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever read in my life.” She looked out into the audience and asked if the gentleman who wrote it would please stand.
“I’ll be happy to, if you’ll answer a question for me. Will you marry me, Paris?”
Paris’s head jerked up and she stared into Titus’s eyes as he stood in the back of the audience. He was smiling as he repeated the question. “Paris Corinna Deveraux, I love you more than my life, will you marry me?”
The audience was screaming for her to say yes and as soon as
she could remember how to speak English, that’s just what she did. “Yes! Yes, I will Titus,” she answered as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
By now he’d reached the stage and they were locked in a tight embrace, kissing for all they were worth. When they finally broke free, she looked into the camera with teary eyes that glistened like black diamonds. “We’ll be right back,” she said happily.
Only then did she notice two things. One, the audience was full of people she knew and loved; Mama Sweet, Mac and Ruth, all of her brothers, Bennie and Clay and most of the Deverauxes, Sarah and Clifton, Nona and Nicole and another pretty woman who had to be Natalie. The other thing she noticed was the beautiful ring Titus had slipped on her finger. It was an oval cabochon stone of at least eight carats and it was a deep red with an undertone of gold. On either side of the stone there were six brilliant cut diamonds that caught the light and sparkled so brightly Paris was blinded by its beauty. “It’s a ruby, Paris. I was on a case in Brussels about a year ago and I bought it. I knew in my heart it was for you when I saw it,” he told her. “I just didn’t know if I’d ever have the nerve to give it to you,” he admitted.
Paris took one last look at the ring and looked back into Titus’s eyes, which were bathing her with the warmth of his love. “I love you,” she told him. “I love you so much, Titus.”
“I know. And I love you, too. I can’t wait to be your husband.”
“I won’t make you wait very long. I love you too much.”
***
Titus had another surprise for Paris, something that she got to see after the show and the huge buffet lunch that Twyla arranged to be served after the show. They managed to slip away from the teeming mass of happy friends and relatives and got into Titus’s Chrysler 300. “Let’s get out of here, baby, I have something for you I hope you’ll like.” He drove for about a half hour, heading back into the city. Paris looked puzzled.
“Are we going to my house? Is that where the surprise is?” she asked curiously.
Titus wouldn’t answer; he just smiled at her mysteriously. Finally they reached the place he’d been seeking, a stately residential district with big brick houses and lushly landscaped lawns. He turned up a driveway that wound up a slight hill and finally brought the car to a stop at the top. He got out of the car and opened Paris’s door, holding his hand out to her. “Come with me, Rosy.”
Paris stared at the big house. “Who lives here, Titus? Is it someone we know?”
Titus smiled and put his arm around her waist. “Yes, baby. We live here.”
The house was magnificent; it had everything Paris wanted in a house. There was a deep bungalow style front porch, a large screened in back porch that opened off the kitchen, as well as a solarium. There was a huge gourmet kitchen, a breakfast room, dining room, butler’s pantry and study on the first floor, as well as a big sunny living room. There were five bedrooms upstairs with three baths, and the master suite was on the first floor with its own sitting room and full bath. Paris was astounded. “When did you do this and how on earth did you know exactly what I wanted?”
“Nona’s in real estate, baby. And I know what you like because I listen to you. And Twyla and Angelique, too,” he confessed. “I wanted us to have a real home right away and I wanted it to be a place you’d love. Do you love it?”
“Not as much as I love you. Let’s go make love in our bedroom right now,” she said. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Not unless you want to have Mama Sweet and the Judge walk in on us. They should be here any minute. Everybody is on the way over,” he informed her.
She laughed and said “Okay, that could be ugly. Oh, Titus,” she sighed, putting her arms around his waist. “You’re the most wonderful man in the world. This means so much to me; I can’t tell you what it means to me.”
He kissed her and smiled. “Then you’ll just have to show me tonight, won’t you?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Paris peered at her directions again and glanced at the road in front of her. She slowed down and looked for the landmark she was told would be there and smiled in triumph when she found it. She wasn’t that familiar with Augusta, Georgia, which is where she was now driving, looking for the place she would meet the man who might have the answer she was seeking. She’d been working on this for a couple of weeks and even though a part of her said leave it alone, another part of her, the pushy part, wanted to forge ahead. I know this is the right thing, she said to herself. Mama Sweet wouldn’t have given me the information if it weren’t the right thing to do.
The day she and Titus had become engaged, she and Mama Sweet had a long talk and the old woman had confided that she always thought it was a shame that Titus had never looked for his own family. “He always said he’d never have children because he didn’t know how they’d come out. He didn’t know if he was carrying some disease gene or if he came from criminals or what. I always thought it was a shame he never tried to find his birth parents,” she said thoughtfully.
Paris looked at Mama Sweet with new respect for her insight. “The thing is, Mama Sweet, where would he begin? He was found in Charleston in the steps of a church, where in the world would you begin a hunt for his parents?”
Mama Sweet had leaned towards Paris with an intent look. “I don’t think he was from Charleston. The clothes he was wearing and the blanket he was wrapped in came from a department store in Savannah. If I was going to start looking, I’d start there,” she said wisely.
Paris hadn’t acted on the information right away. It wasn’t until she talked with Titus one night about his family that she decided to move forward. They had been laying on his gigantic sofa supposedly watching a movie on his giant screen, but what they were really doing and necking and feeling each other up. Kissing Titus was one of her most favorite things to do and she did it as often as possible. They lay facing each other with their arms and legs entwined. Kasey was in the big chair taking a nap and everything was perfect and peaceful. After another long and arousing kiss, Paris rubbed her face against his neck and asked him if he ever thought about his birth family.
He didn’t answer right away; he looked at her with loving eyes and kissed her again. “I do and I don’t Paris. The first family that adopted me, well, that was trauma. As little as I was I knew something was wrong. Mommy and Daddy just took me somewhere and left me and I didn’t get it. It was days and days before I stopped running to the door or window every time I heard a car. I was really messed up by that, you know? But then Mama came into the children’s home one day and everything was better. From that first day, everything was better. I think it was her voice,” he said thoughtfully. “I loved the sound of her voice; it sounded like love to me. And she came back again and again and she and Pop took me home and that was it. I was loved and protected again. They’re the ones who made the most impact on my life, my first adoptive parents who brought me back to the children’s home and my second adoptive parents who kept me, who loved me and gave me everything. The people who tossed me away? Nope, can’t say I spend a lot of time thinking about them,” he said but his eyes told a different story.
“The thing is it’s so typical. Black father, white mother, can’t deal with the disapproving parents so they just get rid of the baby. I’m glad they didn’t abort me; I’ll say that much for them. And I’m glad they put me where I could be found instead of putting me in a dumpster or in the river somewhere,” he said in a quiet, dead voice.
“The thing is I just recently realized how much I want to have a family.” He kissed her again. “That’s your doing, you know. I want to give you babies, Paris. I want to come deep inside you and make a beautiful baby for us to raise together. A lot of babies, Rosy, as many as you want to have. I want to fill our house with noisy little boys and pretty little girls and I want you. I want you now as a matter of fact,” he said with cheerful lust.
“I’ll tell you the truth, Paris. The only thing I want from my birth parents is my medical history and th
en we can call it even. But that’s never going to happen, so I’m over it.” He rolled on top of her and moved his hips in a way that let her feel how aroused he was already. “If I didn’t have you in my life, I don’t know how I’d end up, Paris. But you’re here and you’re mine and I’m happy. I love you, baby.”
Paris sighed with happiness every time she remembered those beautiful words. And because she couldn’t forget the look on his face when he was telling her how he felt about his birth parents, she decided she had to do something. She got with the best researcher on her staff and explained what she was looking for, medical records from the time of his birth in what she assumed was Savannah. She reasoned that if Titus was born healthy the mother had to have gotten some kind of prenatal care. What she was after were women who had prenatal care, probably from a free clinic, who had given birth but had no children. Ellen, her researcher had looked at her with dismay. “If this child was abandoned there’s a good possibility it wasn’t born in a hospital,” she pointed out.
“You’re right, Ellen, and that will complicate things. But I have a feeling this was a hospital birth, don’t ask me why I think so, I just do,” Paris had told her.
Thanks to Ellen’s meticulous digging and the help of Terry Patterson, Paris had come up with several likely leads and she was following one up now. Even though this trail led to Augusta, she felt it was worth checking out. She found that which she was seeking, Chancellor Mortuary. And when she entered the cool, quiet interior of the well-appointed building she could almost hear her heart pounding as she caught sight of the man she had come to meet. He was older, he was shorter and heavier, but he was an almost dead ringer for Titus. This was more than she ever expected.
The Closer I Get to You (Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 8) Page 25