Love, Honor & Protect- Addicted to You 1

by Jamilia Fair

"I'm a curious man, Ms. Davenport."

  I take another bite of my bagel, then a long drink of my hot cocoa before finally answering him. "Seven months," I reply.

  "Seven months," he continues as Momma places his cup of plain black coffee onto the table in front of him. "Thank you, Janice."

  "You're welcome, Mr. Keegan," Momma responds before shooting me a glance, then returning to the counter.

  "Why do you do it? Most women that I know do it to help shape their bodies or for certain activities." The corners of his lips curl up into a smirk.

  "And I'm sure you know a lot of women," I mutter, taking another drink of my hot cocoa. "I do it because it relaxes my mind and my body."

  "Hmmm. Well, that makes sense. Based off what I see, your body’s in excellent shape."

  "What about you? Do you do yoga? I can't really tell by just looking at you," I question, ignoring his comment about my body.

  I know he doesn’t do yoga. I could tell by his posture, but it gave me a reason to size him up. He was dressed in a custom three-piece black suit that hit more than a few of my hot buttons, with a matching green tie. His choice of attire suggests that he exists in the world of business and he looks to be doing quite well for himself. He comes off as a precise, confident man. One of the most attractive men I've ever seen, white or black.

  His smile is genuine. "I don't," he replies.

  I didn't wait for him to say anything else. Instead, I ask another question. "What do you do?"

  "I work most of my waking days. My schedule is busy, so I don't always have time to kick back and just relax. I try and hit the company gym whenever I'm able to."

  "From where I'm sitting, it looks like you hit it quite often." I mentally curse myself for blurting out such a comment. I didn't need to make it obvious that I've been checking him out, but I couldn't stop my eyes from darting to his arms and torso. Visions of his muscular arms wrapping around my body immediately enter my mind, so I take another drink of my cocoa.

  His smile widens. "Thank you. I could say the same about you."

  "Well, uh, don't let it go to your head," I say. "What do you do for work?"

  "I own my own company. The biggest is homed right here in New York."

  We talk for another fifteen minutes about any and everything before I look at my watch, then back at him. "I have to go."

  A fleeting look of disappointment spreads across his face as I stand from my chair. He jumps up. "It was nice talking to you, Ms. Davenport." He extends his hand.

  I stare at it for a moment, then take his hand. "Likewise, Jeremiah."

  I turn to walk away, but he doesn't release my hand. "I would love to see you. We could meet here, again, for lunch maybe?" He smiles and caresses the back of my hand with his thumb, but his eyes portray more than a friendly desire to meet me once again.

  He wanted more, I could see that much, but did I? Do I really want to turn this into something more than just a bagel and hot cocoa with a stranger?

  "I don't get a lunch until one," I point out.

  "Then I'll wait till one."

  I stare at him for a moment longer, then pull my hand free from his grasp. "Maybe."

  Present

  Jeremiah

  (4)

  I. Can’t. Fucking. Wait. To. Marry. Her.

  I can't wait to take her in my arms for the first time as my wife.

  "Is the hotel suite ready?" I ask Jason as the car pulls to a slow stop in front of the church.

  "Yep."

  "The jet?"

  "Yep. I put them in the arm rest this morning and Tabitha's kindle," Jason says, looking at me with a smirk. "Everything is as discussed. Everything."

  I raise a brow at him, but he starts to get out of the car, leaving me pondering the word everything. Remy had walked off towards the church with his phone to his ear. He looks rather annoyed, but I couldn't afford to allow his mood to affect mine. So, I focus all my attention on thoughts of Tabitha.

  I couldn't stop thinking about the day I'd asked her to marry me. I'd wanted to ask her to marry me several months into our relationship, but after that ordeal with Jessica, I had to hold off for another several months. We'd been at Amber and Jason's house in the backyard when it happened. We were standing in front of their big willow tree that stood at attention in the middle of their yard. She'd been looking up at the sky when the small black box landed on the ground at her feet. I remember cursing and reaching down to retrieve it. I'd never been so nervous before in my life. I was going to ask her to be my wife and I didn't know for sure if she'd say yes. But, she did. Right then and there, with that one word, she'd made me the happiest man in the world.

  "Dad, are you all right?" I turn around in my seat to look at Melissa. She looks worried. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

  I climb out of the car at the same time she does, then walk over to her and take her face in my hands. "Never. I'm going to marry your mom today even if it kills me." I kiss her hair, then move to stand beside her and wrap my arm around her shoulder. "You have nothing to worry about."

  "Okay."

  "I don't mean to interrupt this father and daughter moment you're having, but we should head inside and make sure everything is ready for when the bride gets here," Jason says, walking around the car with Jacob in his arms.

  "Yeah, you're right. I don't want anything out of place. I promised her the perfect wedding and that's exactly what she's going to get."

  "Jer! Jer!" I look up to see Remy, my most loyal friend, running at me with a look of concern etched on his face.

  I look to Jason. "Take them inside, will you?"

  He stares at Remy for a quick moment, then grabs Melissa's hand. "Let's go make sure everything is as it's supposed to be."

  I watch him and the kids disappear into the church, then turn my gaze to Remy. "What is it?" I growl. Today is my wedding day. I'm getting married to the love of my life, the woman of my dreams. Today is not the day for unwelcomed news.

  "It's Jessica," he airs out breathlessly. “She’s escaped."

  Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me!

  Past

  Jeremiah

  (5)

  Three days. Three fucking days and I haven't seen her, smelled her, or touched her. For three fucking days, I showed up at the diner in hopes that she'd be there, and for three fucking days, I've been disappointed.

  "Mr. Keegan, are you all right? You seem vexed." Janice pours me my third cup of coffee. I've been sitting here for an hour, waiting for her. Nothing. She's not here. She's not coming, again.

  "I'm fine," I say through clenched teeth.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  I lied. I feel starved. I feel rabid with the pent-up longing for her, to see her, and my temper is in shreds.

  "Momma?" a familiar voice says from behind me.

  I swing around in my seat. Tabitha. There she is, cheeks flushed and looking just as beautiful as the first time I saw her. Heat and relief flash through my body and I realize I have a death grip on the edge of the table. I let go, stand up, then clench my fingers as I start for her. God, my Tabitha. I need my hands on her, I need my lips on hers and I need her in my arms.

  "Hey, baby girl. You remember Mr. Keegan," Janice says beside me.

  My knees feel weak from the insane relief I feel when she looks my way and smiles.

  My Tabitha is here.

  "Yes, momma, I remember." She crosses the diner and is standing in front of me. "Jeremiah," she says my name. I've never wanted to hear someone say my name so much before in all my life. I don't just want her to say my name, I want her to scream my name, I want her to moan my name, and I want her to cry my name. I want to hear her say my name in every conceivable way while I'm fucking her tight, curvaceous brown body.

  "I'll give the two of you a moment," Janice says, then kisses Tabitha's cheek and walks away.

  "Where were you?" I demand.

  "Yoga," she states flatly while pushing past me towards her us
ual table, the table I've been sitting at for an hour and a half for the last three days.

  I charge after her. "For three fucking days, straight?"

  She turns around, a small glare on her face. “I don't believe I owe you an explanation to where I've been the last three fucking days," she spits while sitting down in the chair across from mine.

  I want to kiss her and make her as addicted to me as anyone can be addicted to anything. I want her to know that she belongs to me, and no matter how hard she tries to fight it, I will make her mine.

  "I waited for you." I take a deep breath to calm my raging nerves. "For three days, I waited an hour and a half, maybe more, at this table for you."

  "Why?" Her brows furrow in confusion.

  "I wanted to see you. I had to see you again," I say through clenched teeth.

  "And that's my fault?"

  "No." I rake my fingers through my hair, then meet her gaze. "That's not what I'm saying."

  "Really? Then what are you saying, Mr. Keegan?"

  I can't control the curl of my lip or the growl that erupts from deep in my chest at the use of my formal name. "I told you to call me Jeremiah."

  She doesn't say anything. She just sits there, staring at me with an expression I recognize as amusement. “Do I amuse you, Ms. Davenport?"

  "In fact, you do, Mr. Keegan."

  "It's Jeremiah," I hiss.

  She tilts her head to the side, then places her folded hands on the table. "Why'd you do it?"

  "Why'd I do what?"

  "Wait. Why would you wait for me?" Her stare is a mix of curiosity and confusion. She's biting her lip. "I understand that you are a man who gets what he wants, but after what happened the other day between us, why would you choose to wait?"

  I stare at her. Her lips are calling me. They're begging me to suck on them and bite them. I want to lean across the table and suck her lips into my mouth and slide my tongue across them, but I stay put. I don't want to piss her off.

  "I want you," I state bluntly. "I've never wanted something, someone, so badly before in my life."

  Her brows are raised in amusement and wonder. "Why me?"

  I cock my head to the side. "Why not you?"

  I was turning her question back around at her and that seemed to piss her off. "I am nothing in your life but a woman who happens to be the daughter of the woman who owns the diner you like to have lunch at. So, why do you want me?"

  "You're like no other woman I've ever met before."

  "So, what, I'm a project for you? You want what you can't have?" Her lips tilt down in a frown as she stares at me.

  My pulse increases and I close my eyes to keep myself under control. "No. That is not what I meant."

  "Elaborate," she spit, her brows furrowed in irritation.

  I open my eyes and watch her lean back in her chair. She's folding her arms beneath her breasts. "Does it matter, really, why I am interested?"

  She doesn't say anything. She only stares at me for what seems like hours before she is out of her seat and hovering over me, a small smile etched across her lips. "You're right. It doesn't matter." She steps around me and the table and walks away.

  I'm up and out of my chair before she can reach the door. "Wait!" I reach out and latch my fingers around her wrist, but she yanks free.

  "Don't touch me," she hisses.

  I raise my arms and take a small step back. "Will you please just hear me out?"

  She folds her arms and rests all her weight on her right foot before looking at her watch. "You've got sixty seconds. Go."

  "I can't tell you why you interest me because I don't know the answer myself." She begins tapping her foot, quite dramatically I might add, as a show of annoyance.

  "Forty-five seconds," she warns.

  "Look, there's something about you that I can't quite put my finger on that draws me to you. You're different."

  "How? Because I'm the first woman to tell your ass no?" she spits.

  I nod.

  "Yes. That's part of it," I say as I took a cautious step in her direction. "I'm so used to women wanting me, saying yes, and getting what I want. So, when you denied me what I want…" I trail off because I no longer know what to say to her. I'm so used to getting what I want that no one ever tells me no. No isn’t a word used heavily, or at all, around me. And when I don't get what I want, it usually ends badly for that person, but I can't tell her that. She already has a disliking for me, and I didn't need it growing into hate. "I just knew that I had to have you."

  "Sounds like a project to me," she grunts out.

  "Not in the way that you think," I say softly. "I want you, that's no secret, but not because you're an adventure or some puzzle I want to solve." I stare into her eyes to let her know how serious I am. She needs to know that this is not a game to me and that I take this very seriously.

  She shakes her head. "How can you want someone you know nothing about?"

  "Isn't that the point of wanting someone? You want them so that you can get to know things about them, and I want to know everything there is to know about you, Tabitha Davenport."

  I watch the corners of her lips slightly curl up into a smile. "What movie did you get that line from?" She suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter and that did something to me. It was like bells, the sound of music in my ears. And as I look at her, a feeling washes over me that I'd never felt in my life.

  I run a hand through my hair and take a small step back. She smells like flowers after it's rained. "I didn't get anything from a movie," I throw at her with a small, playful glare.

  She calms her laughter, the first laugh I've heard from her since we've met, but a smile remains in place. "I, uh… I have to go." She turns and reaches for the door, but then turns around to meet my gaze, a smile still on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow. One o'clock."

  "One o'clock." I watch her walk out to her car, climb inside, and pull off.

  "I would say, from the looks of that fat smile on your face, that you've managed to not piss off my daughter." Janice's voice startles me.

  I turn to her, slightly dazed, and smile even bigger. "We're meeting back here tomorrow," I can't help but tell her. I don't usually tell her, or anyone, things about my life, especially my personal life, but I am far too fucking happy to keep it to myself.

  Janice's lips curl up into a small smile, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone and replaced with a small, yet sad frown. "I'm trying not to mettle in my daughters’ personal life, or anyone else for that matter, but I feel that I have to say this." She is staring at me with such intensity that I have to take a step back. "My little girl has been through a lot in her 25 years on this earth. More than anyone her age should have to go through. So, understand me when I say that if you hurt her, I will hunt you down, cut off your little man friend and force it down your throat. Do we understand each other?"

  All I can do is stare at her with a gaping mouth and nod. I was not expecting her to threaten me. Her father, yes, but not her mother. I can only imagine what her father is like if I ever meet him. I now knew where Tabitha got her attitude from. Like mother, like daughter.

  Her frown is now replaced with a gleaming smile. "Great. I will see the two of you tomorrow," she says, then walks away to tend to her customers.

  I don't know how long I was standing there, but it must have been for quite a minute because the next thing I know, I am being damn near knocked over by a kid who looks no older than six.

  "Hey, mister, you're blocking the way!" he yells up at me.

  I stare down at the kid and tilt my head to the side. He looks familiar to me, but I had no clue as to why. "Sir, I am so sorry." A woman's voice causes me to lift my gaze from the young boy. "Jake, what did I tell you about hitting people?" she scolds him.

  "Keisha?"

  She lifts her gaze to finally meet mine and I watch her eyes widen in shock. “Jeremiah?" Her lips part as she stares at me as if she sees a ghost.

  I smile at her and nod. "In the f
lesh." I move to embrace her. "How long are you here for?"

  She draws back. "Permanently. I moved back a few months ago."

  "How long has it been? Five years?"

  She nods. "Yeah, five years. Can you believe it?"

  I shake my head, then look down at the kid who has his arm wrapped around her leg. "Is this your son?"

  "Yeah. Uh, Jake, can you say hello to Mommy’s friend?"

  "Hello!"

  "Hey." I look up to meet Keisha's nervous gaze. "How old is he?"

  "I just turned five." He cheers as if it's the best news in the world.

  Smiling, I reach into my pocket for my wallet and pull out a twenty-dollar bill and hand it to him. "Happy Birthday, little guy." He takes the money, then rushes forward to wrap his arms around my legs.

  "Thanks, mister!" he yells before taking off towards the counter where Janice stood with a smile.

  "Cute kid," I say as I turn my attention back to her.

  She nods. "Thank you."

  "Mom." I look up to see a girl with long dark hair, a nose ring and mahogany brown eyes with matching skin walk into the diner. "Will you please tell Dad to stop calling my phone? I don't want to talk to him," she spits.

  That couldn't be Melissa, could it? The last time I saw her, she was nine. "Melissa?"

  Her gaze drifts towards me and instead of a smile, she glares at me. "Who are you?"

  "Jeremiah."

  She stares at me for a moment, then folds her arms over her chest and her glare deepens. “Oh, Jeremiah, yeah, I remember you." She looks at her mother, then me again. "You're the jackass who left us like yesterday’s garbage."

  I look to Keisha. Had she told Melissa a lie about why I left?

  "Melissa!" Keisha scolds her.

  "What? He can't just stand there pretending like he didn't just up and leave us like it was the easiest shit in the world," Melissa snaps, her glare still trained on me. "What? Did you think after five years everything was going to be forgotten and forgiven? Naw, you can miss me with that shit."

  I go to take a step towards her, but she takes a step back. "Stay the hell away from me!" she hisses before storming passed me, and towards her little brother. I'm tempted to ask Keisha what the hell she told Melissa about my reason for leaving, but I don't. I didn't want to cause a scene in Janice's diner, or in front of Janice. That woman was like CNN, by the end of the day, the entire city would know about it.