Loving Jacob

by Shani Greene-Dowdell

  I turned on my sticky heels and didn't even make it a step forward before I slammed into a broad chest covered by a dirty white tee. My eyes trailed up to his face and my breath caught. He was positively yummy. His hazel eyes had specks of green. And he had a slight grin that would make a girl want to stand on tip-toe and lick his lips. And I would have to stand on tip-toe because even in my heels I had to look up at him. He had such a presence. Even though he was only standing in front of me, it felt like he was all around me, and his body was warm. I could feel the heat rippling off his muscles. It took a moment for me to come to my senses and look away.

  But even with my face turned, I could feel his eyes still on me. It felt like he was memorizing every curve of my face. Part of me wanted to turn and look at him again, but another part was far too intimidated. I wasn't sure if he wanted to kill me or devour me, but given the grimaces on the faces of his friends I figured it would be best not to stick around and find out.

  I stepped to the side. "Excuse me," I said trying to get past.

  He pulled something off a shelf and spoke. I wasn't expecting him to say anything and I was so dazed that I didn't even get what he said.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "An iPhone charger. That's what you were looking for, right?" His gruff voice rattled through me as he waved the package in front of me.

  As I took it, our hands touched for the briefest of time and it felt magical. I could barely speak. "Yes, thank you." I stammered before quickly retreating to the front of the shop. As I walked away, I could still feel his eyes on me.

  I paid the clerk and headed out the door not daring to look over my shoulder. I got into the car and sat there for far too long. At first, I told myself I was just getting my phone set up on the charger. After that was done, I didn't know how to explain it. I felt like I'd just run miles and couldn't catch my breath.

  He's just a guy, I told myself. But I didn't believe that for one minute. There was something different about him that made my skin tingle. He was imposingly muscular with a roaring voice that should scare away anyone from his vicinity. Yet, I was smitten at the thought of him helping me out. I shook my head laughing. I was acting like a crazy person. It had to be from a lack of coffee. The result of too much stress on the job, maybe?

  Sure he was an attractive man. A very attractive man, but my reaction probably had more to do with hunger than desire. That’s what I chalked it up to. I put the car into drive and headed for the tavern.

  Chapter Two

  Channing

  When I first saw her, I'd only caught a glimpse of her profile. She was shorter than me, but she was tall with long legs, and man was she curvy in all the right places. She must have been some sort of professional, because she wore a dress suit that was just tight enough and showed off enough skin to make men look twice. And looking twice was exactly what I did. I watched those legs as she click-clacked her way to the back of the store. Even the sound of the way she walked was sexy.

  I followed her to the back and found the guys glaring at her. I knew how the guys were and I knew they could be total dicks sometimes. But she was just some nice lady trying to get a phone charger. Something built up inside me, and I kind of wanted to punch them in the face for scowling at her.

  It was the strangest feeling. Usually, I didn't care what the hell they said or did, but I had the incredible urge to defend her. So much so that without thinking I was on her, standing not even an inch behind her knowing that if any of them took a step towards her I'd break their legs.

  She turned and slammed right into me. For a moment, she looked up at me and I was lost. I wanted to stroke her cheek. She looked so scared. I wanted to make her feel safe again. I realized she was about the leave without the charger. Of course she was. Why would she stay with those jackasses glowering at her like that?

  I grabbed the charger and handed it to her. She shivered as our hands touched. I wanted to kick their asses for making her feel frightened. Though they hadn't laid a finger on her, I had a good mind to snap on them for being rude, just out of principle. I didn’t care if they knew my emotions were raging on first sight of this black woman whose essence had been as beautiful as the open sky.

  I watched her take the charger up to Otis and pay, her curves swishing from side to side. My mouth slightly curved into an O, as I watched her walk away. After she walked out the front door, I realized something heartbreaking—I'd never see her again. I'd never get a chance to ask her name. I'd never get to caress that smooth, brown skin. Some part of me found the prospect of that completely unacceptable.

  I turned to the guys. "Hey, I have a job I need to head too. I'll catch you guys later."

  "See ya, Channing," Bubba said first.

  “Aight buddy,” Rodger added.

  “Stay out of trouble,” Dirty Neil roared out through the chewing tobacco.

  I built houses for a living. My work schedule wasn't set, so it wasn’t unusual for me to have to leave to handle business at different times of day. Work was as good of an excuse as anything else to leave the presence of the guys. And far more acceptable than what I was about to do.

  When I headed to my truck, I was surprised to see she hadn't left yet. I hopped in my truck and drove behind the shop and waited for her to start the car. I let her get a bit of distance in front of me before I started to follow.

  I stayed a few cars back as I trailed her hoping she wouldn't notice what I was doing. I didn't even know what I was doing. Sure, she was the most beautifully exquisite woman I'd ever seen, but did that mean I needed to stalk her? Clearly, it did.

  But what was I going to do next? Just hop out of my car and ask her if she had a boyfriend? And what if she did have a boyfriend? I realized right then if she wasn't single, I'd be heartbroken.

  I frowned into the rearview mirror. What the hell was coming over me? Was she really that great? Yes, she was. I couldn't even say exactly what it was. I was simply drawn to her. Just some part of me wanted her. Wanted her really bad. She seemed as if she wasn't having a great day. I pictured brightening it. I imagined having the chance to make her smile and it just lifted me.

  After following her for about ten miles, she turned into the parking lot for Moss Tavern. I kept driving. Now I knew where she hung out. I had figured out how I would see her again. I'd go there time and time again until I bumped into her. If it took a week or a year, sooner or later I'd see her again and I'd strike up a conversation and after that I'd ask her out.

  Chapter Three

  Kemara

  I headed into the tavern and found Sharon in a corner booth. She glared at me as I approached, but not as harshly as the men from earlier. "My lunch break ended ten minutes ago, I'm going to have to stay after work now."

  "I'm so sorry, sis. I tried to call you, but then my phone died. I cannot believe the day I've been having." I plopped down across from her in the booth.

  She quickly went from anger to concern. "You look exhausted. Are you okay?"

  I sat down and rubbed my temples. "I'm fine. Like I said, it's been a long day. Did you eat already?"

  Sharon shook her head. "I was determined to wait for you."

  I smiled. More for her sake than my own. I didn't want her to worry about me. "Let's order then."

  We both had buffalo wings and I had a cup of coffee with Irish cream afterwards to make up for my horrendous day. I didn't usually drink at lunch, but this day was an exception in every way. I was barely half a cup in before I brought up the guy I'd seen at the gas station. "Hey, you live around here, right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “There is a rinkey gas station about ten miles back. Have you ever gone in there?"

  Sharon took a sip from her martini, refusing to be outdone by me. "I think I know what you're talking about. I try to stay away from that area. There’s stories about people that come up missing in that part of the woods.”

  “What do you mean, missing?” I asked as I thought about the big, burly man who leaned over w
ith a toothpick in his mouth and looked at me like he would eat me for a snack.

  “It’s just an old folk tale, but still I’m scary as shit,” she laughed. “Why do you ask about that gas station?"

  "Oh, no reason. I wanted to call you earlier to let you know I was running late, but my phone died. I had to buy a charger and I went in there."

  "I was wondering why you hadn't called. Wow, you've been through some of everything today."

  "You have no idea."

  "So what happened at the gas station? Did one of those toothless assholes catcall you or something?"

  I laughed. "No, it was nothing like that. I ran into this guy. And I do mean literally ran into him. He was a white guy, in his mid-twenties, hazel eyes, a beard, I think it's called a chin strap. He was wearing a plain tee and jeans and a blue baseball cap. Looked like he’d been working in a ditch because he was dirty. I was wondering if you knew who he was?"

  "Considering you looked long enough to describe him to a police sketch artist maybe you should have asked his name."

  I sighed. Maybe I should have. But I couldn't have. Not in front of all those guys who were staring me down. I had to get out of there. If I stayed, there was no telling what might have happened. But what if I never saw him again? I hated that prospect. I could come up with another reason to go into the shop, but did I really want to do that?

  I took another sip of my drink.

  “Yeah, maybe I should have asked.”

  I let it go at that. We finish our lunch, while catching up on each other’s week. It wasn’t long before Sharon had to leave, so she could get back to work. I left as well, deciding to ride back by the gas station in hopes of seeing Mr. Hazel Eyes.

  Chapter Four

  Channing

  Seventeen. That's how many days in a row I showed up to Moss Tavern wishing, hoping and waiting. Every single one of those days I silently kicked myself for not following her out to her car and asking for her number then and there. I didn’t want the guys to see me going after a black woman. It went against everything that I was brought up to believe. Not being able to find her again seemed like a fitting punishment for my cowardice.

  Then on day seventeen the most amazing thing happened. She walked through the door. At first, I didn't even realize she'd entered. I had given up hope of seeing her again, now my daily lunches at the tavern had simply become ritual. But she stopped in her tracks when she saw me which made me look up. My gaze landed on her big brown eyes and she smiled before looking over at a back booth and heading to it. Just like the last time, she wore a suit which made me think she was on her lunch break, but this time her dark curls rested on her shoulders when the last time her hair was up and in bun. I wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers through her hair. I hoped I'd get the opportunity to find out.

  In the booth was another regular, a blonde who had lunch at the tavern Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I'd held back a laugh. I'd seen this woman time and time again as I waited for her friend. If only I'd known I could have simply asked for her friend's number, or had her pass mine on. The irony of how close I'd been this entire time wasn't lost on me. And to think, I thought I'd never see her again.

  When she reached the table, she must have said something about me because her friend looked directly at me while asking, "Who, him?"

  She slapped her blond friend's arm and they both pretended not to be interested in me. But I kept catching one or the other glance over at me when they thought I wasn't looking.

  When my future woman got up and headed towards the restroom, I took this as my opportunity. I caught up to her right before she reached the door of the restroom. I stepped in front of her blocking her path and wearing my charming grin.

  Her face would tell me everything I needed to know. If she seemed irritated, I knew I didn't stand a chance. But instead her lips pursed into a smile. She liked me. All I had to do was not saying anything stupid and I'd probably be able to get her number. "Hi, I'm Channing. What's your name?"

  "Kemara."

  "Kemara." I tested the name on my lips, and I liked it. "That's a lovely name."

  "Thank you. Channing isn't bad either."

  She was so cute, I wanted to lean in and kiss her then and there, but that would definitely screw up any momentum I had. So I only fantasized about her thick ruby lips as I asked, "So, I was just thinking maybe we could hang some time. Think I could get your number?"

  When she opened her purse, I thought she was looking for a pen, business card, even her cell, but instead she pulled out her lipstick. My arm was against the wall because I had used it to block her path. She used her lipstick to write her number across my extended arm.

  "I could have just put in my cell." I pointed out.

  "True. But this way you'll call me before your next shower." She stepped around me and dipped into the bathroom before I could say anything else.

  I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. Phenomenal. I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted any woman in my life, after her lipstick stunt, and I was determined to make it happen.

  I paid my tab and headed out. When I got to my car, I saved her number in my phone in case it smudged on my arm. I'd gone through too much to get it to be taken down by a t-shirt.

  I headed back to work. Me and two other guys, Tony and Dave, were laying foundation for a house. I'd barely gotten out the car before Tony pointed to my arm. "How? You've been gone forty minutes. Do women climb over each other to give you pussy?"

  I chuckled. My coworkers had decided I was some sort of Romeo and I was not inclined to correct them. While I won't lie, I do get a lot of female attention, I was also incredibly picky, which meant I was getting a lot less pussy than they were imagining. "We'd seen each other before, and I asked for her number. That's all. She didn't do me in the parking lot or anything like that."

  Dave jabbed Tony in the side as he walked past carrying a bucket of premixed cement. "Might not have ridden his dick at lunch, but I bet he'll have her on her hands and knees before midnight."

  That time I didn't smile. I didn't like the way they were talking about Kemara, even though they knew nothing about her. To them, she was just some hypothetical bimbo who wrote her number on my arm. But if they'd met her, even for one second, I knew they wouldn't talk about her that way. One of the very first things I noticed about her was how damn classy she was.

  But the guys didn't know and if I tried to explain they'd just chalk it up to me being pussy whipped. So I just directed the conversation to our work and soon enough, they'd forgotten all about the lipstick lady.

  We worked for the rest of the day putting down the foundation for the site. By the time I got home, I was dirty and exhausted. I just wanted to hop in the shower and chill. But then I remembered what she said, I looked at my arm and pulled out my cell.

  Chapter Five

  Kemara

  When I got home from work, I threw my purse down on the plush sofa and checked my cell to see if I had a missing call. In the ten minutes it took me to drive home from work, no one had called me. I stretched and headed into the bedroom. Pulling off my dress suit and slipping into a nightgown felt great. I was so wound up. I needed to relax.

  I checked my phone again, noting only five minutes had passed since I last looked. What was wrong with me? I was like a girl in high school. I was far too old to be carrying on like this. If he called, he called, if he didn't, he didn't and that was the end of it.

  To distract myself, I grabbed a book and curled up on the couch. I couldn't make it a sentence before my mind started to wander. He had such pretty eyes and a sexy grin. What did he do for a living? Judging from his soiled clothes, gorgeous tan and the bulge of his biceps, he probably worked outside. Something with a lot of heavy lifting.

  I bit my bottom lip and my legs crossed as I thought about him. But what if he wasn't interested? What if he just wanted to see if he could get my number? I was a black girl, and he did hang out with some white supremacy looking c
haracters at one of the shadiest gas stops in all of Alabama. I shook my head and tried to focus on my novel. Such a silly thing to worry about. I was several pages into the book before I realized I'd picked up a romance novel. I sighed as I read about a maiden with a heaving bosom in the hands of a pirate and tried not to picture Channing and I in those roles.

  When the phone started to buzz, I lept up off the couch. So determined to block the possibility of a call from my thoughts, I wasn't ready when it happened.

  I took a deep breath and cleared my throat before answering, "Hello."

  "Hey Kemara, it's me Channing." His voice was smooth and deep like liquid sex.

  "Ya don't say."

  He chuckled, and it was melodic. "So what have you been up to tonight?"

  "Not much, just reading. What about you?"

  "Just thinking about you." He said it so sweet and casually, I couldn't help but blush.

  "So what were you thinking about me doing?" I regretted the question the moment it slipped past my lips. My tone didn't help either. My voice was high and flirty. I opened the perfect segway into phone sex, when that wasn't what I meant to do at all. Even though the two times I’d been in his presence I wanted to lick him, I didn't want to turn our relationship sexual from the start. I wanted to give him a chance to get to know me and I wanted to get to know him. That’s if we even took a chance at all.

  "I was imagining you..." he left a long and taunting pause in the middle of his sentence, "having dinner with me this weekend."

  I exhaled in relief. "Dinner? This weekend? Well, I'm busy this Sunday," I planned to go home and have dinner with my parents, "but I'm free Saturday."