Then Came You (Accidentally in Love Book 3)

by Nicole Falls

  Post-gym session found us at Main Event grabbing a quick dinner and a few games before I’d be taking the boys back home. Our time at Main Event was short-lived as I soon was wiped out. Being up before 5am baking then nonstop movement with these guys had me bout ready to shut it all the way down before 9pm. We stopped by Danny and Leila’s to grab Patrick’s bag and drop off JR. Since Patrick lived moments away from the patisserie—where I was currently staying until renovations were done on the loft space I’d purchased—I figured I could drop him off instead of making his mother or Daniel have to get up to take him home. The ride was quiet, with Patrick knocking out shortly after programming his address into my GPS. I really had no reason to get out of the car once we’d arrived, but that didn’t stop me from following him to the door anyway. As he searched his backpack for his house key, the front door opened.

  She was just as bad as I remembered, even with her hair wrapped and in a caftan that looked like it had seen better days.

  “Hey ma,” Patrick said, shuffling past her.

  “Hey babe. You have fun?”

  “Yeah, the game was dope.”

  I stood there like an idiot, expectantly, not saying a word.

  “Hey…Darren, right? Thanks for bringing my baby home. I hope it wasn’t an imposition.”

  “Damon…and it’s no problem. I didn’t live far and had to come this way anyway, so…” I trailed off, on a shrug.

  “Shit…I’m terrible with names. Sorry, Damon. Either way, it’s appreciated. He wasn’t too much was he? I know how ridiculous the DJ and PJ show can get,” she replied, a slight giggle in her tone.

  The amusement lit up her eyes in a way that I couldn’t help smiling in return.

  “Nah, those lil dudes were all good. Yo…I wanted to let you know though, you’re raising that boy right. He was schooling my poor misguided nephew on the superiority of Jay Z to any of these so-called MCs out right now.”

  That pretty ass smile lit up her face again, her eyes crinkling at the corners slightly.

  “This is a pro-Carter household over here.”

  I chuckled briefly before replying, “I support it. Hey…have you had a chance to get back over to the bakery since you crashed my opening?”

  A brief flush of red covered her cheeks as she replied,” I still can’t believe we just walked on in…but actually, I went back in there this morning. Those chocolate hazelnut beignets almost made me propose to you when I saw you standing on the doorstep with my baby boy.”

  “That good?”

  “Almost as good as…” she trailed off, “…a game of tiddlywinks.”

  “Tiddlywinks, huh?”

  Her response was nothing more than a smirk.

  “Well I don’t wanna hold you up, it looks like you were turning in for the evening,” I said gesturing to her attire.

  She looked down as if she was unaware of what she was wearing and then laughed, “So you just let me stand out here running my mouth looking like I’m ready to go down to the schoolhouse and embarrass my boy for acting up. Wow, Damon…I thought this was the start of a beautiful friendship.”

  “You fine as hell, ma. Even with that hole right over…your nip…heart.”

  Patricia hurriedly clasped her arms over her chest in alarm and groaned.

  “First time is free, next time I gotta charge,” she replied with a wink, turning to go into the house, “Good night, Damon.”

  “Good night, Patricia.”

  ***

  I walked into the back door of the patisserie straight into my office. As expected Tyrel had placed the receipts for the day in my outbox, along with the bank deposit information. Today was the first time I’d left he and Jami here alone to run the place. I had full confidence in their abilities to run the place, but was definitely surprised that I was the one who had to call and check in with them about halfway through the day. My nervousness was unnecessary as I took a quick lap around the shop to see everything in its rightful place. We would live to see another day. I locked up and headed to the small apartment space upstairs to finally lay it down.

  That small interaction with Patricia had me keyed up. I couldn’t get a read on her and I didn’t want to seem too pressed, but I definitely should have at least asked her out. What’s the saying? Nothing ventured; nothing gained, right? I was buggin’. I didn’t have time for a woman like that. She deserved a man whose time revolved around ensuring she was content. With the bakery just getting off the ground, my leisure time was going to be scarce—a reason that I joined this site that my boy BJ was telling me about called JustOneNight.com. It was a place for…discreet hook ups. Its membership pool was carefully curated, filled with like-minded individuals who were seeking a means to an end.

  I hadn’t checked my profile in the few weeks since I’d officially opened, but I wasn’t super impressed by the matches that had been curated for me so far. Not that the women weren’t gorgeous—because they were—but of the three that I’d met offline, exactly none of them and I had chemistry. BJ told me to persist, so I decided to give it another go. Might as well expend some of this excess energy that I’d absorbed from the short interaction with Patricia to see what was out there. Grabbing my tablet, I saw an email notification that I had five new matches on the site. I navigated to the app to check out the fresh meat.

  The first woman looked old enough to be my mother. I had to double check my age specifications to make sure that I hadn’t somehow broadened the scope within which I was seeking companionship. My parameters were correct, so I clicked her profile to see her age. She claimed to be twenty-seven, but that had to be times two plus seven because she definitely looked…seasoned. Moving on, the second woman looked vaguely familiar so I went to her profile to see if reading about her would jog a memory. Many references to frogs and pearls and I knew exactly where I knew her from. She was one of my sister in law Leila’s very good friends—god mom to the nephew that I’d just spent the majority of this day with, in fact. I couldn’t unmatch with her quick enough. I didn’t need the mess of that interaction at all. The next woman wasn’t my type physically, so I quickly unmatched with her. No need in wasting either of our time with fake interest.

  Woman number four was a woman with whom I’d been previously matched and we didn’t work out. Something must be off with the algorithm if she showed up again. Especially since I thought I’d blocked her. We never actually made it to the meet in person stage, just exchanged messages via the site, but some of her comments made me unsure whether or not she’d try to wear my skin if we were to meet in person.

  Now all that was left was lucky number five. Her screen name was l0vedr0ught, which was interesting considering the nature of this site. Love was the last thing one should be seeking here, but who was I to judge? I clicked her profile so that I could see the picture in the miniature avatar a bit more clearly and…I’ll be goddamned. Pretty, even peanut butter brown skin, a red lip and a smile that put the shine of the sun to shame filled my screen. I clicked through the other four photos on her profile to see her in various dress attire—from formal to super casual. I laughed at my fortune and read through her profile. It was witty, filled with the right amounts of self-awareness and humor. I sent her a quick message.

  I’ve got the perfect cure for that drought. –Bakerman

  PATRICIA

  My baby sister sat in front of me looking like she had been mugged…hair askew, eyes wild, not speaking, damn near as still as a statue. Celena and I talked every day, either by phone or text, so it was odd to have her go radio silent. After not hearing from her in about three days, I decided to pop up on her. This morning, I used the key that was supposed to be for emergencies and let myself in to check on her.

  I found her lying in bed, wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito. Her eyes were bloodshot, clearly the aftereffect of incessant crying. For the first hour that I was there, she stayed burrowed beneath the covers, not engaging in any conversation that I started with her. When I finally convinced h
er to get out of bed, it wasn’t much better. She got like this though…in one of her moods, typically after something happened that didn’t go her way. She’d been like this since we were kids, burrowing into herself when emotionally charged until she was so filled that she exploded.

  It hurt my heart, though, that she hadn’t felt the need to reach out to me. As her big sister, I felt it my responsibility to assuage her pain, be a storehouse for her grief. It’s been this way since we lost mom and dad. Celena was my responsibility…and outside of PJ, we were all we had.

  “He left, Patty,” she said suddenly, voice scratchy as if she’d just awakened from days of slumber, “He just fucking disappeared.”

  After uttering those couple of sentences, the dam broke and she began sobbing. Instinctively, I moved closer, gathering her in my arms. We rocked back and forth as I rubbed her back in large comforting circles while whispering in her ear for her to let it all out. Now the reason for her state of being was clear. Something happened with that pussy ass motherfucker she’d been dating…Jacob. Just thinking his name caused a grimace to appear on my face which I quickly tried to remove as I pulled back to look into her face. She’d gone silent again, but her shoulders still heaved with sobs and rivulets of tears continuously streamed from her eyes.

  It’s not that I didn’t like…actually let me not continue that lie. I couldn’t stand that motherfucker Jacob Parker. He was too smooth for me…didn’t appear to have a genuine bone in his body. But for some reason my baby sis was enamored. I’m sure it was a combination of being hoodwinked by his charm and dickmatized, but Celena was sure he was The One. I was not…for a few reasons—namely because he was slicker than an oil patch on hot pavement. Even my boy didn’t like him and I swear that kid likes everybody. We suffered through him, however, for the sake of Lena.

  When she was finally able to gain her composure, Celena ran down the details of the situation with Jacob and I was trying valiantly to stay alert and listen to her, but also was running through my mental rolodex of ways I could bring harm to the dusty motherfucker who dared play games with my blood.

  “Patty…” Celena sighed, “Stop. I know what you’re thinking. You’ve got that look in your eye.”

  “What look?” I asked, trying to sound completely innocent.

  “The same look you had in your eye when I came home in fifth grade and told you that Montriece Jefferson called me an ugly hoe.”

  A slight giggle escaped at that jogged memory. I definitely handled her little ass for talking shit about my kid sister. I didn’t play when it came to Celena. Anybody could get it. Even a girl who was several years younger than me.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. He…I did this to myself, sis. Once again fell for the okey doke game some nigga was runnin’. Too blinded by what I thought was love to see what was in front of my face. I swear I wish I was more like you.”

  “Nope, we’re not doing that. Not today. You don’t need to be a cynical, distrustful old lady. That’s my role. You’re like mommy…you always see the good in people, even when they don’t deserve for you to give them the benefit of the doubt. Don’t let ol punk ass Jake from State Farm take that away from you.”

  “He…I…Patty, you know what hurts the most? Beyond having my feelings disregarded and trampled on once again? He fucked with my livelihood, sis. My job could have been in jeopardy because he wasn’t man enough to just end things properly. Their account was a huge one for Urban Current and I was lead account executive on it. To snatch away their business with no warning and everyone knew that we were involved? That reflects so badly on me. Thank God, I didn’t lose my job.”

  “Which is why you should let me talk to a few folks I know and let him get paid a visit from some bompany.”

  “Oh my god, Patty! You did not just say bompany. Knowing damn well your bougie ass doesn’t know any bloods,” Celena responded, laughing.

  My mission had been accomplished. I threw her off track slightly and got a laugh.

  “You don’t know who I know. I get around, little girl.”

  Celena wiped her face and stared at me. I kept a serious mug on until the curious glance she leveled upon me made me break down in laughter, too.

  “I’m serious, sis,” I said, “Give the word and I’ll make his life a living hell.”

  Celena sighed and shook her head.

  “I just…I want to put that all behind me. And take some time off from dating. Because these men…they’re…I just need a break.”

  “I keep telling you they’re only good for two things…fucking and retrieving things off high shelves.”

  “Something is wrong with you,” Celena laughed again, “But I recognize what you’re doing and…thank you.”

  I stayed with Celena for a few more hours, not leaving until I was convinced that she was on the road to being all right. Knowing how the pain of heartache can fester like an open wound, I made sure to send back up reserves over to her place once I left to retrieve PJ from the birthday party that he was attending. Between me, and her friends Devorah and Cadence baby sis would come through this stronger and better.

  ***

  I couldn’t shake the feeling of heaviness that lingered in my chest from when Celena said she wished she could be more like me. I was a carefully curated persona of a person in her eyes—fiercely independent, the necessity of being tied to one man for life non-existent. We’d both grown up in a household with two parents that was a toxic environment. My father was…well let’s just say he wasn’t exactly the man anyone should aspire to be. While he’d never laid a hand on my mother physically, he had her trapped in emotional bondage as he ran roughshod over her heart. There were countless instances of women showing up on our doorstep with children in tow, claiming that my father had sired them. My mother’s love for him was unwavering, however, no matter how many times he embarrassed her.

  I grew up thinking that I wanted to be nothing like her and hella distrustful of men. What I said to Celena wasn’t a lie; they were only good for few things. But I also wasn’t fully immune to being ensnared by the charms of a charismatic man, which was the root cause for one of the biggest secrets I’ve held onto for the past eleven years. Since then, however, I’d wised up…and kept my heart to myself, using men in ways that satisfied my physical yearnings, but never any emotional entanglement. Which is why JON.com was the perfect set up. So hopefully my damn profile would be approved by now, I thought as I logged into my email account on the iPad. To my surprise—and relief, honestly—not only had my profile been approved, but I had an inbox full of potential matches.

  I clicked on the profile of match number one—Randy…who looked like the spare Jackson with whom he shared a name. Reading his profile it was evident that not only would he and I not be able to connect in any way, but that he was also likely a stage five clinger. Who in the hell writes a long paragraph about the qualities of his perfect woman on a site that’s essentially a hub for one-night stands?! That would be a hard no.

  Bachelor number two looked vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn’t figure out why. So I clicked his username—Bakerman— to view his picture at full size. As soon as it loaded, my heart—and pocketbook if I’m being completely honest—quickened. It was the fine ass bakeshop owner, Damon. That night he dropped Patrick off, we’d flirted a little and I thought he was interested and I kind of expected him to say something more, but he didn’t make a move. Guess sending this message via JON was his way of testing the waters. I read his message and smirked.

  I’ve got the perfect cure for that drought. –Bakerman

  His message was accompanied with the emoji eyes and a wink. I rolled my eyes, trying but failing to hold back a laugh. I couldn’t decide on a name when setting up my profile, so I ended up using the name of the song that was playing at the time, which just happened to be Beyoncé’s “Love Drought”. I mean the sentiment was accurate because it’d been so long since I’d had some that I felt like I was going through a damn drought. A
nd honestly, I had full confidence that the Bakerman could absolutely cure it.

  Really? You’re going full corny, already?

  The app quickly pinged with a reply.

  I got you to respond, so I’d say the corny worked. How you doing tonight, beautiful? –Bakerman

  I tried not to let myself feel too giddy at the quick response, but I was a little geeked that the attraction wasn’t one-sided. My B.O.B., Mahershala, wasn’t doing the job like he used to and I needed some real live man meat to take over.

  I’m doing as well as can be expected.

  In light of? –Bakerman

  In light of not having been properly dicked down in one hundred and seventeen days and climbing the walls currently. In light of being so turned on by the mere appearance of your face on a computer screen. In light of wondering if what they said about hand and foot size is true since your hands dwarfed mine when we shook at that soft launch opening. In light of you and your dick being mere miles away and me not having access to it. All of that is what I wanted to say. However, I went with a more tame response.

  Pent up…frustration.

  I can also help with that…–Bakerman

  Oh yeah? How’s that?

  The answer’s in my name, sweetheart. I got plenty of treats…you gonna make some time to come see me and get some? –Bakerman

  You gonna make it worth my while?

  Wait…are we talking about sweet treats or…? – Bakerman

  I was definitely not thinking about sweets in any fashion and quite frankly not up to beating around the bush, so I just stated my intentions plain.

  I’ve been told that it’s sweet, but you’d have to decide that for yourself.

  I’ve always had a helluva sweet tooth, gorgeous. You let me know when and where I’m taste testing. – Bakerman

  Well hell…

  I was a half a second from inviting him over to my place immediately before I remembered that PJ was here and I barely knew this man. A couple of quick interactions did not make this level of thirst appropriate or necessary. I sat for a few minutes before responding to him. I needed to slow my roll. While I worked out what I was going to say in response, my iPad dinged, informing me that I had another new message from Damon.