“Mama, what are you over there saying?” Aiden interrupted, and we looked up to find all three brothers looking at us, eyes wide.
“See yourself out of my conversation,” Amelia scolded, rejoining them to take the spoon from Addison, and busy herself with my now half-eaten dessert.
Aiden stepped into her place, staring down at me, concerned. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t know what my mother may have said to you…”
I hiked an eyebrow at him. “Why do you sound so worried? It wasn’t anything bad.”
“Oh!” His concern turned to a grin, and he hooked an arm around my shoulder as we watched his mother and brothers argue over who was going to get the last bite of guava duff. “In that case… welcome to the family.”
Aiden
“I heard you were like… madly in love.”
I looked up from the clipboard I was using to go over the kitchen’s extensive opening night checklist one last time to find my cousin Nash beaming at me from around the refrigerator door.
Nashira Drake, baby sister to Braxton and Lincoln, was the only person my brothers and I had ever trusted with an opening, even before we were dealing with a restaurant that was purely our own. Between the three of us, we had the business and logistics, all that, down to a science.
But Nash knew how to turn it into a party.
“Who’ve you been talking to?” I asked, shaking my head as I gave her my full attention.
She scoffed. “Come on, cousin. You know Auntie Amelia wasn’t holding on to news like this – all three of her boys finally on a path that might lead her to some grandbabies. All with pretty ass Black women? And they’ve all got careers? Your mama is on cloud nine, do you hear me?”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I chuckled.
After walking in on Kima and I in the kitchen at Tigress a few days ago, my mother hadn’t been trying to hear a damn thing about how it was too soon to be planning grandchildren – for any of us. Even Addison and Samara, who’d gotten together first, had only been involved – reinvolved – for a few months.
Amelia Clarke had a feeling though.
I wouldn’t front, I had feelings about Kima too, but the fact was that I didn’t even know yet how she felt about children. It wasn’t pressing for me one way or the other, so I certainly wasn’t about to scare her off by stressing her about it.
Once she saw she wasn’t getting anywhere with me, she turned her attention in Drew and Andre’s direction.
“You know I met her earlier?” Nash asked, still grinning as I looked back to my clipboard.
“Who, Kima?”
When I glanced up again, she nodded. “She’s got really good energy, cousin – it’s a good look for you.”
“I completely agree.”
“She reminds me of Lashell.”
The mention of my late wife had me gripping my clipboard a little tighter than necessary – not because I was still going through my grieving process – I was past that. It was just… she had, tangentially, been on my mind too.
I’d had, and tragically lost a great love – from that experience, I felt like I’d gained a certain recognition. Lashell was an important part of my past, part of my fabric – a loss that forced me to not accept too much ambiguity, drama, or confusion.
To focus on the beauty of what was happening in the moment, and what it could become.
To recognize the potential of another great love when it came along.
“Not in a creepy way or anything though,” Nash continued. “They don’t look anything alike, completely different women, but… that same spirit, you know? I’m sure the stress of all this is dampening her right now, but I just feel it – once Tigress is back in a good place, that woman is gonna be downright sunny, and I can’t think of a better match for your laidback energy,” she laughed. “I just need Kima to not stress herself into a heart attack or something first.”
My brow went up. “Wait, what?”
I hadn’t seen Kima in a while, no, but chalked it up to the busyness of the day. Opening night was tonight, and while our plan was specifically designed to not leave us with much to do, there was a lot of checking and rechecking everything – like what I was doing now. Which was what I thought she was doing too.
“Last I saw her, she told some of the servers she was going to her office to lay down,” Nash said, with a shrug. “I assumed she needed a breather.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I said, dropping the clipboard on the counter as I turned to leave Nash there in the kitchen.
The checklist could wait until I found Kima, and figured out what the hell was going on.
I did, indeed, find her in the office.
Only she wasn’t laying down – she was sitting straight up, frozen to her spot behind the desk, with stress practically radiating off her.
I didn’t say anything at first, just closed the door behind me and looked at her, waiting.
Finally, she blinked, her pretty face full of distress as she met my gaze. “What if, after all this effort, all the planning, all the changes… what if it still fails? What if I still fail?”
“That’s not an option.”
“It’s definitely an option. You said so yourself, you had to swoop in and create a whole damn ‘investment’ program to save this restaurant from me, because you could see that I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.”
I shook my head, keeping my tone level so as not to feed into any of her nervous energy. “Nope. When I look at you, I don’t see failure – I see immense potential. You’re talented, and smart, and capable, and when the rumors and shit about your setback came through the grapevine, yes, I stepped in. I couldn’t sit back and let the situation destroy what you’d built, when all you needed was a little help.”
“A lot of help.”
“So?” I shrugged. “You don’t think one person built 81C on his own, do you? Look at Pot Liquor, look at Sucre Noir, look at Honeybee. They weren’t built alone.”
Kima sucked in a deep breath, her expression turning thoughtful as she considered my words. “You know… Jai from Honeybee… she’s actually the one who told me about the program you guys were doing. Encouraged me to apply. Even though I see now it was a sham anyway.”
“It was completely a sham,” I laughed. “But in my defense, we did do some mentoring and grants for other restaurants who applied, and we’ll keep it going after Tigress has its successful relaunch. I have something else to admit though.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Which is…?”
“I… may or may not have nudged Jai to nudge you about applying.”
“Aiden!”
“What?!” I tossed my hands up. “I had to make sure my plan worked, right?”
“I’m going to tell her you used her to arrange access to my panties.”
“Nah,” I laughed. “I told you, it wasn’t about that.”
“Whatever, tell me anything.”
“Okay. Let me tell you this then – you are not a failure. You built something, Kima, from nothing, and not all the parts of it worked. Some of the parts failed. You made mistakes, yes, and you had to get help to keep moving forward, to grow the thing you built, but you did not fail.” I walked up to the desk and sat down, reaching across to grab her hands. “I get that it might feel like… like it doesn’t mean as much because you didn’t do it on your own, or like you weren’t good enough by yourself, but honestly… fuck that,” I told her, squeezing her hands. “The Clarkes didn’t build this – you did. We didn’t make it a community staple – you did. We didn’t earn the good reviews – you did. Everything that will make this place a success going forward is based on the groundwork you laid, Kima. And I hope like hell you can find room today, among everything else you’re feeling, to be proud of that. Because I am.”
“You’re gonna make me cry if you don’t stop,” she warned, the glossiness in her eyes backing up h
er statement.
I raised her hands to my mouth, kissing her knuckles. “Hey, if that’s what you need to do, do it. Just know that when you’re done, we’re right here with you – backing you up.”
Shaking her head, Kima tore her eyes away from mine to look up to the ceiling instead. “You know you are… too much, right?”
“I can confidently say that I’ve never been accused of that before,” I laughed. “Most people get bothered cause I’m not giving enough.”
“No, you’re not… aggressive, like Andre. Or audacious, like Addison. You’re just… so goddamned soothing. You’re making it really hard for me to be as anxious as I’d like.”
“Not apologizing for that. You’ve just gotta deal.”
“Clearly,” she replied, pushing out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t always this neurotic, you know? I used to be pretty breezy, just with a sharp tongue,” she chuckled. “That’s how Tigress got its name. I used to get in trouble at school because of my mouth, and my father would ask me, what kind of little tiger shark is always so happy?”
“Seriously?”
“Yep,” she laughed, but it quickly morphed back into her deep contemplation. “Being stolen from… taken advantage of… it really changed me. And not for better, either. I don’t want to discount the lessons I’ve learned from it, but… I just want to be that happy tiger shark again.”
“What’s stopping you?”
She met my gaze again, and a slow smile spread over her face. “For the last year or so? Everything. But now… I guess… nothing.”
Kima
“I know you’re trying to take a break, but I had to find you to tell you before I left – that conch salad is flames.”
When I opened my eyes, Addison’s girlfriend was peeking into my office doorway.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you,” she continued, wearing a sheepish grin. “But I was talking to Aiden about it, and he insisted I should let you know.”
I returned her smile, motioning for her to come in, and she did, closing the door behind her.
“I’m Samara, by the way.”
“I know who you are,” I assured her, standing up to give her a real greeting. “And not just because you’re dating Addison, either – I’m a fan, truly.”
Samara blushed, shaking her head as she accepted the hug I offered. It was largely because of her influence that we had a celebrity presence here tonight – their tags on social media had the Tigress opening trending, which I was more than grateful for.
Even I couldn’t deny – this had been a successful opening night.
She was right though – I was in here for a break.
Not just from the work though, but from the attention, the praise, the anxiety, the emotions – it was all a lot.
Aiden was right too though.
I did want to know that the dishes I’d been worried about, the Caribbean cuisine that wasn’t as well known as the jerk dishes, the meat patties, the plantains, was still being well-received.
“I have to confess… I didn’t come back here just to compliment the food,” Samara said. “I wanted to ask if I could commission a private lunch. We want to do a Dancing with the Stars kinda thing through the theatre, and one of the stars I’m courting for it is Bahamian too. I’m sure you know Soraya, won a bunch of Olympic medals in track? I’m thinking that a traditional lunch might get her board for it.”
I smiled. “I happen to know from personal experience that conch salad is actually her favorite, so it would definitely win you some points.”
“Oh, you know her personally?!” Samara shrieked. “I’ve been trying to avoid using certain contacts so I could at least feel like I was doing this myself, but she is hard to find!”
“I do know her personally, we’re actually from the same island. And that whole hard to get ahold of thing is by design,” I told her. “So she doesn’t get approached about any nonsense, but what you’re talking about, I think she’d love. I know you just said you want to feel like you’re doing it yourself, but… a wise man told me just earlier today… getting help doesn’t diminish the value of what you built. If you want, I’ll text her tonight.”
“No, that would be amazing,” Samara gushed, just as the door opened again, and Drew peeked inside.
“Just the girls I was looking for. Is this where we’re congregating?” she asked, stepping in. “To discuss our grievances against the Clarkes? Cause Dre ate my last wing Kima, and the kitchen is closed – I need to file a fucking complaint.”
“Addison wouldn’t keep his damn fork to himself either,” Samara groaned. “Took the last scoop of peas and rice right off my plate!”
I laughed. “The dessert we’re serving tonight? I made the tester the other day and didn’t get a single bite between the three of them and Mrs. Clarke.”
“You didn’t tell me you already met Mama Clarke!” Drew squealed. “Is she already asking you about babies too?”
“It’s been a busy few days, and hell no,” I insisted. “We’re nowhere near thinking about babies. Are you?!”
Drew shrugged. “I’m surprised I’m not expecting one already. Sam?”
Samara mirrored Drew’s shrug. “Same.”
As soon as that word left her mouth, I felt like I’d been punched in the chest.
“Oh my God, you should see your face,” Drew laughed, nudging Samara’s shoulder.
“Oh, shit – Kima, we’re kidding,” Samara assured me. “Well, I’m kidding. Birth control has me on lock.”
“Same here. I need to boss Dre around a few years before we start seriously talking babies.”
“Oh thank goodness,” I gushed, putting a hand to my chest. “I haven’t dated in a minute, so I don’t know the protocols anymore – I don’t need Aiden thinking I’m trying to have a baby.”
“I’m pretty sure Aiden would go with whatever you wanted to do anyway,” Samara giggled. “You should see how he looks at you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Like he discovered the meaning of life in my pussy? Must be a family thing, cause that’s how Addison and Dre look at the two of you.”
We were all laughing about that when from behind me, I heard the door open yet again – and at that point, I’d had enough.
“Okay, I get it, we’re all friends here, and all that, but we’re going to have to establish a rule about just walking in my damn office without knocking,” I fussed, turning to find… all three Clarke siblings standing in the doorway, holding flowers.
“Oh,” I murmured, my eyes finding Aiden’s right in the middle. “In this case… never mind.”
“Good evening, one and all,” Astrid’s voice sounded throughout the yoga studio, deep and sensual over the steady hum of music. “Welcome to Couple’s Ascension yoga.”
Across from me on the oversized mat, Aiden shot me a quick wink.
“My name is Astrid, and my partner, Eddie, is joining me for today’s class. Let me warn you now, it’s gonna get a little sexy in here, but as you know if you’ve taken this class before, even alone… it’s not necessarily about the act. It’s about the intimacy.”
“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” I muttered at Aiden, who only grinned.
Of course he wanted to come back to this class, with me.
This was the class that had me hot and bothered enough to play with myself on my kitchen counter for him.
So really, it was Astrid’s fault.
And I’d told her so.
Her response?
“You’re welcome.”
“Close contact,” she said, still working through her intro. “That’s what this is about. Connecting with your partner or partners, using their energy to fill your empty places, and using your energy to fill theirs. Balancing each other. Fulfilling the other’s needs as they fulfill yours. No space between you, no disconnect. Intimate connection. You should feel it,” she insisted.
And… yeah.
I did.
Already.
The sex was nothing
to overlook, but like she said… it wasn’t just that.
It was the intimacy.
The close contact, the connection I’d been avoiding for fear of losing even more than I already had.
When I stopped trying to deny it… I’d ended up with even more than I had to start with.
“Take your partner, or partners, by the hands,” Astrid said, and Aiden reached out to me, interlocking our fingers.
“You good?” he mouthed, and I nodded.
I was definitely that.
The lights dropped a little lower, and Astrid gave us our next instruction.
“Let’s look each other in the eyes… and begin.”
The end.
About the Author
Christina C. Jones is a modern romance novelist who has penned many love stories. She has earned a reputation as a storyteller who seamlessly weaves the complexities of modern life into captivating tales of black romance.
Also by Christina C Jones
THE CLARKE BROTHERS
Collision Course
THE WRIGHT BROTHERS
Getting Schooled
Pulling Doubles
Bending the Rules
THE LOVE SISTERS
I Think I Might Love You
I Think I Might Need You
I Think I Might Want You
SUGAR VALLEY
The Culmination of Everything
The Point of It All
INEVITABLE SERIES
Inevitable Conclusions
Inevitable Seductions
Inevitable Addiction
THE TROUBLE SERIES
The Trouble With Love: a tale of two sisters
The Trouble With Us
The Right Kind of Trouble
IF YOU CAN SERIES
Catch Me If You Can
Release Me If You Can
Close Contact (Clarke Brothers Book 3) Page 6