by Mia Caldwell
I fixed him with a glare. "Everything?" I pressed meaningfully. "Did you mention I'm Black?" I didn't add. I didn't think I should have to.
He pulled me into his arms. "What's to tell? 'Hey Dahlia, I've met a woman who takes even less shit than I do but somehow stays completely un-cynical. I've met a woman who sees beauty and meaning in everything she does and sees and I hope she can teach me to see that in my own life.'"
His lips were only inches from mine. It would feel so good, so natural to close that gap. To kiss him. Right now. I should be kissing him. It was the only thought in my head.
And then he saved me from my indecision by kissing me instead.
The scalding heat of his lips on mine seared me right down to my core. With a rough stab of his tongue, he claimed my mouth as his, and went about exploring his territory. My body responded immediately, molding itself against him as he pressed me back against the plush seat. I was lost in the moment, in time itself and could barely make sense of anything except Liam's lips, Liam's tongue, Liam's hands on my body, his fingers delving, hot and bruising as he growled low in his throat.
My own yearning, numbed off since I left Tre, rose to the surface, hotter and wilder than I had ever imagined they could be.
I kissed him back, exploring his shape with my hands; his chiseled torso, the small mountains of his biceps, the rough hardness between his legs. I felt the textures and tastes of his skin on my tongue as I kissed him everywhere his skin was exposed, his cheeks, his chin...his neck. As a trembling gasp tore from my throat, he gripped me even harder, so hard that it hurt.
"Shay," he rasped, a ragged whisper into my neck.
Just then the car came to an abrupt stop and I nearly cried out in frustration. "We're here," Darius's rumbling voice called over the partition, and I swore he was interrupting us on purpose.
Chapter Twelve
My breath hung in a frosty white wreath around my head. The parking lot was packed with groups of people, lumpy in their winter jackets, picking their way carefully across the ice-littered pavement. I figured we were meant to follow them.
Darius fell into step several yards behind us, those damn aviators still obscuring his eyes, even in the dead of a wintry night. He was unnerving me tonight, that strange familiarity he had was even more apparent. I wondered if I had passed him in the street once, without realizing. Or maybe I had dreamed him. He gave me a strange sense of deja vu, made worse by how be behaved. He didn't act like a deferential staff member. There was an air of authority about him, and though he worked for Liam, I got the feeling that Liam wasn't always in control. Mysterious Darius -as I now referred to him in my head - did what he wanted.
Like staring me down right now. The heat of his obscured eyes was enough to make me flush in misguided embarrassment. Distracted, I stumbled on the ice.
Liam took my arm, firmly, protectively. "Thanks," I smiled. After the heat of the kiss we had shared, and now Darius's burning glare, the icy air felt good on my face.
I reached up and loosened my scarf a little, allowing the air to bathe my neck.
"Oh, don't do that," Liam murmured in my ear as we walked up to the entrance of the gardens.
"Do what?" I asked.
"Show off your neck like that," he said playfully. "You're going to get in trouble."
I laughed out loud as he held open the door for me. "I think I already am in trouble when it comes to you," I smiled, stepping through the door. His chivalry made me feel cherished and queenly.
That is, until he licked his top lip and eyed me up and down as I walked past. "I like your tits in that coat."
I glared at him. "You're an interesting juxtaposition, you know that? Half gentleman, half dog."
"Woof," he smiled, and took my arm again.
I blushed a little and tried to distract myself from his stormy eyes. "Why are we at Longwood Gardens? The Christmas display is over."
"You'll see," he said, looking proud.
I held my breath, remembering the magic of the butterflies. They seemed to have transferred to my stomach.
Liam paid at the window - no private event just for us tonight - and then held me close as we gave our tickets to the usher. "Enjoy," the old man smiled as he tore them in two and handed him the stubs.
"Thank you sir, we absolutely will," Liam smiled back, and once again I was struck by his odd mix of old-fashioned chivalry and potty mouth.
We walked out into the frigid gardens, under the dark winter sky. It was clear and very cold, with no moon to dim the light of the stars overhead. We were far out from Philly, which was only a faint orange glow on the eastern horizon, and for whatever reason it felt colder out here in the country. Liam slung his arm around me. "Too cold?"
"A little," I said truthfully.
"Here." He stepped off of the path. "Come this way."
A few feet off the main path was a little concession stand underneath a heating fan. Liam squeezed my hand. "Two hot chocolates please."
They were watery mixes in Styrofoam cups, but at least they were warm. "Hold this for me?" Liam asked, handing me his cup.
I dutifully held both of them as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a deeply engraved silver flask and held it out to me with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. I giggled and nodded eagerly. He glugged about a shot's worth into each Styrofoam cup and replaced the cap on the flask. "Cheers," he said, lifting his cup.
It tasted like whiskey and burned all the way down my throat, but the warming was instant. "Umm," I moaned as the shivers subsided. "Good thinking."
"Always be prepared," he said. "Boy Scout motto."
"You were a scout?"
"A bit," he said. "I really liked it, but Dahlia got bored with having to pick me up from meetings, so she pulled me out before I could start Eagle Scouts."
My nose twitched in spite of myself. I was starting to hate this woman, and I had never even met her. "Well it's a beautiful flask."
"Thank you." He took my arm again and we stepped back out onto the path. We were headed to the main greenhouse, an old brick mansion - an imposing Victorian pile that sat at the crest of a small rise. I had no idea what we were coming to see, so I turned my curiosity to Liam.
"Is it old? It looks old," I said. Maybe the flask meant something to him.
"It might be," he said. "I don't really know."
"Did your mother give it to you?"
He nodded. "Twenty-first birthday present. She said it was something I should have gotten from my father...if he had stayed around."
I startled. This was the first I had heard him mention his father. "Did you know him?"
He shook his head, exhaling a puff of condensation into the air. "No. Dahlia...well she kind of made it clear that he was not a subject she was willing to discuss. After a while, I finally learned to let it go."
"Like everything else?"
He looked at me, long and hard for a moment, his penetrating gray eyes even darker in the night. "Like everything else," he agreed, like he was considering it for the first time.
I leaned against him, feeling the warmth of the liquor opening me up. Feeling like he was opening up too. "You're making it hard for me to ever want to meet her," I sighed.
His silence spread out long and hollow. He still held me, but seemed stiff and far away.
Okaaay, maybe I misjudged. Maybe he wasn't opening up to me the way I thought he was. Or maybe he had been until I mentioned meeting his mother. I jumped the gun too soon, frightened him off. Dammit, Shay!
From up here you could look out over the dark, snow-covered courtyard. The topiary that usually graced the lawn was nothing more than a random series of lumps and bumps under the white blanket of snow. It was beautiful and eerie at the same time and I felt like there was some meaning to it, I just couldn't put my finger on it.
Liam interrupted my spiral of self-doubt by rushing to open the door to the greenhouse. "We're here," he said beckoning. "After you."
I turned away from the cold
and stepped into the warmth of the greenhouse...and a riot of color.
"Tulips!" I gasped.
They stood in rows, proud and tall in shades of red, orange and yellow. They were everywhere, bursting forth in the profusion of colors my winter-deadened eyes craved. I couldn't believe it.
"They forced the bulbs," Liam explained. "I heard about it on Channel 6 and knew you needed to see it."
"Oh my gosh," I babbled. The joy of the colors bubbled up in my heart until there was no room for anything else. I gasped and laughed like a child, running up and down the walkway, touching the flowers, inhaling the delicate scent, and feeling the soft petals against my fingers...my cheeks.
All the while, Liam was watching me with a delighted look on his face. When I caught his eye, he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking like a bashful schoolboy with that dimple. "Are you happy?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes!" I shouted. The warmth, the colors, the flowers - the whiskey - were all a swirl of excitement in my head. I laughed out loud.
And then threw myself into his arms and kissed him.
"Oof," he grunted. I could hear the smile in his voice and feel his lip curling in amusement under mine.
But when I pressed up against him, his amused peck became harder, rough and insistent. He pulled me closer, backing up so that we moved into a more private alcove. His tongue found mine, flooding my mouth with the taste of him.
Whiskey...and sex.
There was nothing polite, or gentlemanly about this. He cupped his hands to my ass and pressed me close, making me feel it. Making me feel him. The whole length of him. I moaned in spite of the people milling about us. Appearances be damned, I only wanted one thing.
More.
"Shay." The way he rasped my name set every nerve ending alight. "Let's go."
I rocked against him in answer. No second guessing the meaning this time. No, this was the moment we had both been waiting for. I needed him, needed all of him. Everything he had, I meant for him to give it to me. I was greedier than I have ever been...but I had never wanted something so much.
I slid my hand into his pocket, on a quest for for the object of my desire.
Something buzzed against my hand and we both froze.
I pulled out his ringing cell phone. His face crashed down into a thunderous frown. "Ignore it," he commanded.
But I had already looked.
I swallowed and stared at him. "Who's Lily?"
His eyes widened in alarm. Without a word, he snatched the phone from my hand and stalked into the crowd. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could see it on his face. Anger, concern...and guilt.
No. No no no no no!
I watched him hang up, and then poke his head up from the crowd, scanning the edges of the greenhouse. Then he gestured, pointing to me.
Darius appeared next to me. "I'll take you home, Shay," he rumbled, taking my arm.
I shoved him back. "Don't touch me." My heart couldn't accept it, my brain refused to believe it. "What the hell just happened, Darius? Who is Lily?" I demanded. I whirled around, shouting for him, "Liam!"
But Liam was already gone.
Chapter Thirteen
"That sounds shady as fudge," Kiki declared in her preschool teacher version of potty mouth. "He just cut out like that? Right after kissing you?"
"Right after. Like...seconds after," I muttered darkly. "He was kissing me, I was kissing him, and things were getting pretty intense...."
"Is he a good kisser?" Jasmine interjected, with a clinical air. She looked like she wanted to take notes.
"The kiss was..." I waved my hands, at a loss for words. "Amazing, incredible. I was fucking married for a year and never got kissed like that, not once. But that's not really the point."
"The point is the phone call," Kiki said patiently, like Jasmine needed that cleared up.
Jasmine looked thoughtful. "Okay, well let's review the facts as I understand them." She began to count on her fingers, her researcher's mind in overdrive. "One, you met him when he was buying a bouquet for a woman." She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "A very special, thoughtful bouquet." She let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing, "Two, he takes you on these impressive and thoughtful dates, but leaves you hanging afterward." I felt like I was attending one of her lectures. "Three, he'll drop you like a hot rock when a woman named Lily calls him." She rested her hands in her lap. "That's what we know, right?"
I knew what Jazzy was trying to do. Concentrate on the facts to slow my descent into wild speculation. It would have worked too...if I wasn't already so far gone. But after last night's debacle, I was too miserable for sense. I was in the mood to let my friends pick at my wounds, to count them and cluck over them while I drowned in self-loathing.
"And her name is Lily!" I moaned piteously, ignoring Jazzy's attempt to derail my pity-train. "In flower language, it means beauty. I bet she's some skinny blonde white chick with no ass, you know?" I grabbed my thick thigh and grimaced. "And, and, what's even worse, his mother's name is Dahlia!" I laughed hysterically. "I should have known from the start. You know what those me? Instability!" Kiki rubbed my shoulders sympathetically as I slumped forward. "Aside from everything else, those should have been the biggest warning signs?"
"Red flag city," Kiki nodded. She began to work on my neck.
I leaned forward and cradled my knees to my chest, and closing my eyes. "I feel like I'm swimming in a sea of red flags," I sighed, leaning into her digging fingers. "But I was somehow hoping that if I kept swimming the water would clear." Kiki's thumb found a tight spot and I gripped my legs tighter. "I'm making the same mistakes all over again, aren't I?" I moaned into the room. "It's right there in my face. I'm his other woman and I swore I would never do that." I turned and punched the sofa. "Dammit. Poor Lily."
Kiki patted my shoulder sympathetically and Jasmine slid the salsa bowl in my direction. Neither of them said what I should do next. I already knew.
But what was so strange was how much I was rebelling against doing it. He had proven my worst fears correct. Why did I still want to believe him when he said there was only me?
What was wrong with me?
Chapter Fourteen
My phone buzzed.
Then it buzzed again.
When it angrily vibrated its way right to the corner of the desk, I swore and shoved it into my purse.
When it kept buzzing, I swore again and kicked the whole thing across the office.
Now the buzzing was faint enough to ignore. I sat back down to my invoices and turned up the music on my iPod.
Let him stew. Let him be left hanging, with no explanation, for hours on end. Let him feel shitty about himself for a while.
Kit poked his red head in from the front of the store. "You okay back here, lover? I heard banging."
I gritted my teeth. "Yes, I'm fine." It was a lie that I needed to believe.
Kit stood there for a beat, waiting to see if I'd elaborate. When I didn't, he sighed. "It's deader than Shia LeBouef's career up here. I'm locking up and heading out. You ready?"
I frowned at the stack of unpaid invoices. After the optimistic rush of Valentine's orders, and the subsequent spending on inventory and payroll, we fell right back into the red. The longtime clients, used to Mrs. Young's lackadaisical bookkeeping, were up to their usual tricks. I needed to come up with new funds - and quickly - just so she could pay me. "Nah, I'll close up," I told him. "You go home."
"Okay, lover, don't forget to turn down the heat. Love ya." He sounded tired and dispirited. I understood.
I gathered the stack of invoices and the wheezing laptop and pushed through to the front. The sun was setting below the snow clouds, sending out a weird golden haze over the glass-fronted stores of 8th Street. The yellow cast it gave the snowbanks made the streets of South Philadelphia look like the dunes of the Sahara. It was weird and otherworldly and maybe that was why I jumped so badly when the door banged open.
"What the
fuck?!" I shouted as the icy blast sent my carefully cataloged invoices fluttering to the floor.
"Oh shit, sorry," Liam rushed to pick them up before they landed in the puddles of melted snow he left on the floor.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, snatching them away.
"Well when you didn't answer my texts," he bristled, "I decided I had better go see if you were okay."
"How about Lily, is she okay?' I shot back.
He stiffened. "Shay...."
"Don't 'Shay' me. I don't give a shit what kind of sneaky, underhanded stuff you do with your own life, but don't involve me in it. I'm not interested in being your other woman."