Our Happily Ever After: BWWM Interracial Romance Black Women White Men (That Forbidden Love Book 3)

by Ellie Etienne

  Back downstairs Dan was at the stove, setting it for grill. The ribs were out on the counter.

  “I decided to go with what I’m less likely to screw up.”

  “Good call. That wine coming?” she asked. All she wanted was to relax.

  “You know, we are on the job, technically…” Dan said, but a bottle of red was right there next to the ribs, ready to be popped.

  “Then I just started to love my job even more. Need any help?”

  “Can you start here while I get the rest of the bags? No sexist subtext.”

  Adele was hungry (and thirsty!) so she easily agreed. While Dan worked on getting those suitcases and awkward store bags up the stairs, she poured herself a glass and opened some breadsticks and cheese. It wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing sight, but those were the closest and utterly delicious things.

  Dan grabbed another glass and toasted, but Adele drank right away, rightfully anticipating a quip.

  “To happily ever after!” Dan said anyway and drank up.

  They stood in silence, taking long sips and enjoying the snacks. When they finished the first glass, Dan poured more.

  “We’re going to do it, right?” she asked. It had not been as tangible during the ride here, but now that they’d arrived she realized the job was about to start, and that made her nervous.

  “Yeah, of course we’re gonna do it. That sucker won’t know what hit him. Provided you know what to look for.”

  “Anything solid,” she said.

  A silly grin appeared on Dan’s face, white teeth purple with wine.

  “Go ahead, say what you gotta say,” Adele allowed – she’d asked for this one.

  But Dan didn’t speak, just drank some. “I’m too tired. And this is way too easy, Simpson, I have a reputation to maintain.”

  “Right. Dick jokes too lowbrow for you?”

  “Yeah, this fucking sweater and the Benz got into my head. Only fart jokes from now on.”

  “You’re disgusting, Krakowski.”

  “And you’re a sissy, Simpson. Come on, bottoms up.”

  They drank and refilled. During the exchange Adele felt the energy between them, a spark. It had to be the alcohol, she told herself, never in a million years would there be anything between her and Dan, and yet something had changed.

  She took her glass to the couch, sat down and continued drinking. Still wasn’t right.

  “I think we better head to bed,” Dan suggested.

  Adele turned her head to him, more unsettled. “One bed?” she heard herself ask.

  “Only if you insist,” he giggled. “No, Simpson, there are two bedrooms up there for a reason. I suggest you call dibs on the one with the view.”

  She finished the glass. “Dibs.”

  “So, um… are we gonna eat at all?”

  “Not the ribs. Nobody got time for that.”

  They finished the bottle and the breadsticks, as well as most of the cheese, and concluded that it was a sufficient dinner. They went to unpack then, and all the while Adele listened to Dan’s movement on the other side of the wall. Was there really anything between them now? Had they simply started out on the wrong foot? Or was it the alcohol in her bloodstream speaking? She was leaning towards the latter, but during the evening Dan had seemed perfectly fine. She thought he was aware of the silliness of his jokes, too, and she was growing more and more confident that he used this silliness as a defense mechanism. It didn’t seem to matter much why, curious as it was, because that was his private business.

  Once all her things were in the cupboard and the suitcase tucked away under the bed, Adele discovered she had no strength left to get off the bed, much less leave the room to brush her teeth. That was fine, it had been a tough day. She undressed, set the alarm for eight in the morning and fell asleep with the screen still glowing next to her head.

  *****

  For the first time in a long time she slept right through the alarm, and woke up with a start from a knock on her door. It was nine fifteen. Oh gosh…

  Dan’s muffled voice came from behind the door. “Coffee’s going to be ready pretty soon, honey. Rise and shine!”

  It was chilly in the room, and her nipples indicated as much. She shivered and got out of bed reluctantly to open the curtains to be greeted by the warm sun, its light filling the room. She stood at the window for a minute or two, bathing in the new day, admiring the view literally in a new light. The lake was golden, with small waves and a couple of sailboats in the distance. There were other cottages similar to theirs along the coastline, all of them too far away to make out their features, which told Adele nobody would see her nakedness, unless they sported a telescope. There was a short dock at the edge of the loan, but not a patch of sand. At the end of the dock there were two wooden chairs side by side. She wished there was a boat, too, but guessed it was too much to ask. The rest of the property was rather secluded, hidden from the neighbors by trees on both sides, but very well tended to. There was a crooked tool shed in the corner, close to the water, but it only added to the overall charm of the place. Being out of New York was a blessing.

  She made herself put on a nice summer dress and leave the bedroom, after all. She could smell coffee and meat, and her stomach immediately signaled her to move in that direction.

  Dan was in the kitchen, staring angrily at his tablet.

  “Problem?”

  “No internet connection. It’s got reception, but that’s not very useful, is it? Seeing as how the damn thing is unable to make calls in the first place!” He dropped the tablet on the counter and picked up the coffee pot.

  “Will you relax?” Adele set at the counter and laced her fingers around a steaming cup. “Maybe it’s for the best. Everyone needs a break from the internet.”

  “Hm. I’m surprised you’re taking it so lightly. I would’ve thought you’d be the one freaking out.”

  “No. I’m on a simulated vacation, and I will not be disturbed. We’ll have things to worry about besides whatever goes on online.”

  “True.”

  Adele wanted to scream: See? It’s not that hard to have a normal conversation! But she said nothing. For this to work, Krakowski had to arrive at this conclusion on his own.

  “So, what’s for breakfast?” she asked, and her eyes fell on the oven that emitted yellow light. “So that’s what I was smelling? You decided to cook the ribs for breakfast?”

  Dan shrugged. “One thing I can’t screw up.” He handed her a big glass of water. “Drink up. Today we’ll be going out for a walk.”

  There was still some time before the food was ready, so Adele used the time to check out the backyard. It was like any other backyard really, only this one had a lake to go with it. She walked onto the dock, her face turned up to the sun, and sat down, looking around. The sailboats were still there, cruising back and forth like the toy ones in the Central Park pond. There were tall flagpoles here and there on the other side, and there was a strip with small huts lined up along the shore. Adele presumed it could be a summer camp; she’d been to one just like it when she was a girl.

  When she went back inside, she found Dan coming down the stairs, wearing a colorful polo shirt and white canvas pants. Who on earth would purposefully dress that way? A mystery.

  “How do I look?”

  Her silence was answer enough.

  Dan said: “You’ll have to excuse my wife’s taste, what can I do?” She was puzzled now. “It’s a joke, Simpson. You’re my wife, so if anyone asks, this look is on you.”

  “Gotta do what we gotta do,” she reassured herself.

  They ribs turned out to be delicious! Fat and juicy and the exact opposite of what you should be having for breakfast, yet she couldn’t get enough, thoroughly gnawing the bones. They had more coffee then, and were about to step out, when the doorbell jingled.

  They looked to each other. Adele whispered: “Are we expecting anyone?”

  “We are now. Ready?”

  She nodded, no
t ready at all. Dan grabbed her hand and let her to the front door. Behind the blurry glass there were two silhouettes. Dan opened.

  “He-ey!”

  There was a couple at their door, a man and a woman, with dumb smiles on their faces, which Dan and Adele were quick to mimic. They were in their late thirties, if Adele had to guess, but they looked older – the man’s hair was going silver, and the woman had crow’s feet. There was also a kid with them, riding a bike in the background, paying little attention to them.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake! I was afraid we’d be disturbing you,” said the woman. She was holding something wrapped in a towel. The man seemed not entirely comfortable with what was going on, but Adele noticed he was wearing a checkered sweater vest, and that told her all she needed to know.

  Adele said, “Oh, it’s no bother at all! Welcome!”

  “I’m Georgina,” the woman said, “And this is my husband, Paul.”

  “Nice to meet you, guys,” Dan said, and shook the man’s hand. “I’m Dan, this is Adi.” More handshakes all around.

  “Please, come in,” Adele said, and the couple obliged. “You’ll have to excuse us, we haven’t had time to do anything with the place.”

  “I understand. It’s still lovely!” Georgina said. “Here, a little welcoming gift.”

  She passed Adele the bundle. Wrapped in the towel was kind of a pie.

  “Rhubarb,” Georgina said.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Adele gave her a warm neighborly hug, and saw Dan pat Paul on the back, thanking him, as well.

  There was a moment of confused silence, when no one knew what to say next, then Georgina suggested: “Would you like us to show you around?”

  The four of them headed out once Adele put the pie away – she hated rhubarb, but wouldn’t say so, of course. They walked by the Mercedes and off the property, walking away from the lake. Georgina and Paul lived in the cottage next to theirs, which was still a little ways up the road.

  “So,” Dan began, “my wife and I wanted to know how the community around here is. I mean, what are the people like?”

  Adele shot him a look – there was no need to make the situation any more awkward. Georgina seemed to be the only one into it.

  “Oh, we’re lovely people, Dan! Down there on the right is Millers’ house, then down there is Reeds, and at the end of the lane is Red’s house.”

  “You mean Redmond Johnson, the fertility expert?” Adele asked.

  “He’s a psychologist, as far as we know, but yes, he works in that field, I believe. He’s a very good neighbor. Would you like tea, or coffee?” They slowed down near the entrance to their lot.

  “We’d love that!” Dan said, before Adele could protest.

  She supposed it would be a good idea to find out some more about the man they were about to investigate from his neighbors. After all, these were the people who could know the slightest details of both his biography and character.

  Georgina talked away the afternoon, constantly refilling their coffee cups and offering new desserts – she loved baking, apparently. Adele found out that the neighborhood consisted of a dozen cottages, but only a few of them were tight. Red Johnson was kind of the leader of the pack and usually had a barbeque at his house on Sundays, to which about twenty people would come. If Georgina was to be believed, Red was a nice guy all around, but the nature of his job made it difficult for him to find the love of his life to settle down with. He was a bachelor, but a decent one, never threw loud parties or had many women around. She knew little of his practice, as she and Paul rarely had family problems. Because Adele had to conduct her questioning inconspicuously, besides finding out a lot of useless information about Johnson she also listened to various stories about what felt like every other member of the Bolton community. On the upside, they got a chance to test out their legend, and both Georgina and Paul ate it up. Dan even went on a short lecture on home security, much of which, Adele was sure, was improvised there and then. Regardless, all went well, and the hosts suspected nothing. It gave her confidence that either the story was perfect or dramatically over thought – the same way Paul could’ve come up with any legend, and Adele would only nod and smile. Nobody really cared, it seemed.

  At some point she saw Paul lead Dan to the side and pass him a flask. What a suburban cliché – a talkative wife and a tired husband who had to sneak around to have a sip of whatever. Scotch, presumably.

  Before they knew it, it began to get dark outside, and Dan said it was time for them to head back home to unpack. Paul was the first one to wish them good luck and good night. Perfect, Adele thought, perhaps they wouldn’t have to venture out for a barbeque next Sunday.

  The first thing Adele did when they were safely home was to go to the kitchen for wine. Dan was right behind her.

  “My God, these guys are so boring!” he complained.

  “I know, right? Is this what marriage is? Screw that crap!”

  “Preach, honey.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Dan opened a bottle of red and poured the crimson liquid into the same glasses they had used the previous night. They drank without toasting, even though it was only four in the evening. They ate some leftover ribs, cold but still delicious, and very quickly finished the bottle. Adele opened the next one.

  “Are we scheduled for a session with Johnson?” she asked.

  “Not yet. That would’ve made us look like a bunch of psychotic stalkers, moving in next to him the same day we scheduled a session.”

  “I take it you have a plan?”

  “Yeah. Now that we’ve made ourselves known around here and have found out-” he made quotation marks in the air, “-that Johnson exists, it’s plausible that we decide to pay him a visit. Right?”

  “Brilliant.” She drank some wine, thinking everything over. “You know, this is shaping up to be a pretty cool ride.”

  They drank to that, finishing the second bottle, unable to keep from smiling.

  Dan said, “Speaking of cool rides. Come on.”

  He took her hand, and she didn’t protest. He led her through the house to the door that let inside the garage.

  “Close your eyes.”

  She did. He opened the door and out the lights on.

  “Here,” he led her to the left, to the back wall. “Open them.”

  It took a second to adjust to bright lights, but then…

  “Happy wedding, honey!” Dan joked.

  There was a small silver coupe in front of her, a BMW with maroon soft-top. It was clearly brand new, and shiny in the fluorescent light; the lamps reflected on the hood.

  “Are you serious?” Adele wasn’t thinking clearly, just stared, astonished.

  “Yeah. Another prop. Thought it would be fitting.”

  He walked to the driver’s side, popped in through the rolled down window and inserted the key. The headlights came to life, but the engine didn’t start. Dan must’ve pressed a button, because the roof began to open and fold.

  Adele was loosing her mind. In the back of her head she knew she was drunk and should control herself, but…

  Her legs felt weak, and seeing Dan leaned like that suddenly excited her. There was nobody around for at least a hundred yards, and the two of them were alone in the garage. Adele reached underneath her dress, hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear and slid it down over her thighs and then over her ankles. She couldn’t stand waiting for Dan to notice.

  “So, how do you- Simpson?” He glanced at her panties on the floor by the wall, then back at her.

  Adele opened the driver’s door, felt at the side of the seat for the adjustment button and waited patiently while it moved back.

  “Get in,” she commanded.

  “Are you sure about it?”

  She cocked her head.

  Dan got in, leaning back in the seat, and she climbed on top of him.

  “Are you…”

  She put her index fi
nger on his lips, then reached down and pulled his polo shirt off.

  “Much better.”

  Against her better judgment, she kissed him. Dan went with it, his muscular hands curving around her back. He felt for the strap, but there wasn’t one, only the elastic band – he pulled it down, baring her breasts. Adele’s nipples were hard, rubbing against Dan’s chest. She kept on kissing him, their tongues intertwining.

  “Adele,” he whispered, “we shouldn’t.”

  “But I want to.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “What’s the connection?” She took his hand and put it between her legs. His fingers slid down the landing strip and felt around. She was wet, and resisted to moan when he touched her.

  Dan swallowed, looking her in the eye. “We shouldn’t.”

  “But we just might. Stop talking.”

  She put his other hand on her ass and squeezed. She kissed his neck, her fingers in his hair. Now that he wasn’t wearing his regular “manly” cologne, he actually smelled like a man. His chest was hairless, which was pleasant, and she landed a few kisses there before straightening up. She wanted him to take her. She could feel his cock right through his pants, hard and hot. She wanted him.

  Dan was kissing her chest, as well, now, the hand that had been between her legs a moment ago was now on her breast; his tongue played around with her nipple.

  Adele shivered. She couldn’t take it any longer, but every time she tried to change position he held her down, one arm firmly around her, holding her butt tight. She loved that, too, but she needed more.

  She put both hands on his chest and pushed off. “I want you.”

  “No, you don’t, Simpson,” Dan whispered. “We should stop.”

  “Let’s see…” She took his head and pulled it between her breasts. “How about now?”

  He kissed, but still held her locked down.

  “You’re gorgeous, Adi, but don’t. We’re both drunk, and this isn’t right.”

  It stung her, because she saw he wasn’t just playing with her. He wasn’t going to take it any further, and wouldn’t let her.

  “Have it your way, then.”

  She got up off of him and out of the car. She put the dress back up, embarrassed. How could he use her like that and then turn her down? She grabbed the underwear from the floor and ran back inside the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.