The Savvy Sistahs

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The Savvy Sistahs Page 22

by Brenda Jackson


  “Like you?”

  Cord’s mouth curved into a smile. “I see that Dev has been talking to you.”

  “Yes, and the reason I’m here is to make sure that you follow his orders for the next four days, which has me wondering why you’re not in bed.”

  I’ll be glad to get into the bed if you get in there with me, he wanted to say. Instead he said. “I didn’t think it would be proper for you to arrive and find me in my jammies.”

  She waved off his words. “Hey, I’ve seen a man in his jammies before, so the sight would not have bothered me. I stopped by the store and got you a couple of cans of soup. Dr. Phillips mentioned that your cupboards were probably bare.”

  “They are.”

  “Then I think the best thing to do is for you to get back in bed and I’ll bring you a bowl of soup.”

  “You’re not here to wait on me, Amber, and I’m not bedridden. I can relax without being glued to the bed,” he said stubbornly.

  “Yeah, well, I’m sure you can but I prefer that for the rest of the day you stay in bed and let me take care of you like I assured Dr. Phillips that I would.” When she saw he was about to be defiant, she coaxed, “Go ahead and humor me.”

  He met her gaze and kept it level with hers. “All right, Amber, I’ll humor you, but when the time comes I expect you to return the favor.”

  What had Cord meant by that? Amber thought as she poured hot soup into a bowl. After they’d left the guest room he had gone into his room and closed the door saying he planned to change into his jammies and she hadn’t heard a peep out of him since.

  She had continued to familiarize herself with his house and had called home to check for any messages on her answering machine. She had then gone into the living room and watched television and had gotten caught up in a movie when she’d noted it was time for Cord to eat something before he took the medicine Dr. Phillips had prescribed.

  She knocked on his bedroom door twice and when she heard soft snoring decided not to wake him. Amber had made it back to the kitchen and had sat the bowl of soup on the counter when the phone rang. She quickly picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Stuart?”

  Amber smiled, recognizing the voice immediately. “Dr. Phillips, yes, it’s me.”

  “I was just calling to check on my patient. I know how difficult he can be at times.”

  Amber’s smiled widened. “Yes, well, he’s sleeping right now and has been for over a couple of hours.”

  Dev chuckled. “That’s good since he definitely needs the rest. I increased the dosage of his medication for that reason. Besides wanting to check on Cord, I wanted to let you know that my lady friend and I plan to bring you and Cord dinner. She enjoys cooking and has made this huge pot of red beans and rice that we’d like to share.”

  “Umm, that sounds delicious.”

  “It really is,” he said, and Amber could hear the admiration in his voice for his girlfriend’s talent in the kitchen.“And Briana and I can stay a while with Cord if you need to go out or something. You know you don’t have to be there with him every minute of the day.”

  “Yes, I know but being here gives me much needed rest, too. Last week was pretty hectic getting things prepared for the bookstore’s anniversary party. So this way I can relax a bit. I haven’t been doing much of anything since I got here but watching television, so in a way I’m glad I’m here and not at home. If I were at home there would be a million things for me to do.”

  “Well, I’m sure Cord appreciates you being there. I got to check on a few more patients then I’m out of here. Expect me and Briana around six.”

  “All right. Good-bye.” She then hung up the phone.

  “Was that call for me?”

  Amber whipped around at the sound of the deep, husky voice. Just waking up from his nap, Cord looked as dazed as she felt. The man was standing in the kitchen doorway dressed in a pair of pajamas bottoms and had that “just slept” sexy look. Her gaze latched on the broad span of his hairy chest and masculine torso and wondered how it would feel resting against it.

  She lifted a hand to push hair back from her face. Suddenly, she could feel the heat, the sensual power he radiated, evoked and provoked. Her heart began racing out of control and she could actually feel her temperature starting to rise. Cord Jeffries was definitely the type of man who could fill any woman’s fantasy.

  “Ahh, yes, that was Dr. Phillips. He was checking to see how you were doing,” she finally found her voice to say.

  Cord nodded and ran a hand down his face as if to wipe away lingering sleep. “Did you tell him I was doing fine?”

  “Yes, I told him.”

  “Good.”

  Then his eyes held hers and she could see the heat in them, and it sent desire flooding through her. She decided to break eye contact and turned to the sink. “If you’re ready to eat something, I can reheat the soup. Dr. Phillips said he and his girlfriend would bring something for dinner. She likes to cook.”

  Cord chuckled. “Yes, she does.”

  Amber blinked. She hadn’t realized Cord had crossed the room and he was now standing directly behind her. He was so close that if she were to turn around he would pin her between his body and the sink. She decided to keep her back to him. “Like I told you this morning, I can’t cook.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you have a number of other talents.”

  Amber caught her breath the moment she felt Cord slide his hands around her waist. He then took a step closer and she felt him, the outline of his hard erection against her backside. She couldn’t help but pause a moment and savor the contact and was almost too a shamed to admit it was a contact she’d missed. It had been almost three years since a man had touched her and she couldn’t stop the quiver of awareness that flowed through her, settling in the middle of her legs.

  “I want you, Amber. I think you’ve known that from the first and a part of me believes that you want me, too. But I think it’s more than lust here. I think we genuinely like each other, too. Right?”

  She nodded, but refused to turn around. “Yes, I like you but I don’t want to rush things.”

  “And I don’t want to rush things either,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing close to her ear. “According to Dev I’m not to mess around for two weeks, which I guess is fair. I’d like to use that time for us to get to know each other better. After that we need to make a decision.”

  Amber swallowed. “About what?”

  “About where we want to go from there, if anywhere. From the sounds of things you’ve had a bad marriage and so have I. The question I want you to think about is will you let the past keep you from ever having a future? That’s the same question I had to ask myself a while back and decided I wouldn’t let Diane take away my joy for living.”

  He leaned over and touched his lips to that space on her neck, just under her ear. She began to tremble. She leaned back against him and he shifted forward to cup her curvaceous bottom. The feel of it was driving him insane. He didn’t want to think of how it would feel when they were skin to skin.

  “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his tone low and deep.

  The husky sound of his voice made her squirm and clench her thighs together. “Yes,” she whispered, barely able to catch her breath.

  “Turn around and give me your mouth, Amber.”

  Slowly, she turned to face him and immediately locked her gaze with his. His eyes were dark and filled with a wanting she’d never seen in a man eyes before, at least not with such intensity. When he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his, he didn’t try to hide the hunger he felt.

  Neither did she.

  She closed her eyes when his lips touched hers and then she was lost. He plundered her mouth from corner to corner, side to side, top to bottom, licking, stroking, sucking, and then his tongue captured hers, held it captive and mated, relentlessly, greedily, sending her into oblivion where the only thing she could do was moan. Her breasts wer
e beginning to ache, the area between her thighs felt needy, and she shifted so she could cradle his erection there in her center, although what she craved was more intimate contact.

  And when Cord suddenly pulled his mouth away, she bit her lip against a whimper of protest and slowly opened her eyes. He was looking at her with deep desire. His lips were still wet and his breathing uneven. She immediately became concerned that he might have overexerted himself.

  She braced herself against the sink, allowing her own breathing to return to normal. The kiss had left her entire body aching for more. “You weren’t supposed to overwork yourself,” she said softly, lifting her gaze to his when she could finally speak.

  “I didn’t overwork myself, Amber. What I got is overcharged. There is a difference.” When she was about to say something he covered her mouth with his fingers.

  “No, I won’t let you regret what we just shared. I won’t.” Then he replaced his fingers with his lips and kissed her slow and easy, with a sweetness that almost brought tears to Amber’s eyes as her mouth clung to his, taking everything he was offering.

  When he broke the kiss and stepped back she knew. There had been a reason she had been drawn to him from the beginning, and although she wasn’t sure what that reason was, she was willing to find out.

  “I don’t regret anything, Cord.”

  A slow, easy smiled tilted his lips. “Good, and I appreciate you being here with me, Amber. It means a lot to me.”

  She nodded. It meant a lot to her as well.

  Chapter 22

  Jesse stood back after ringing the doorbell, trying to put out of his mind the episode he’d witnessed earlier that day with Carla and her mother. What he’d heard had taken him aback.

  But then it had shocked the hell out of Carla Osborne. That much had been evident on her face when her mother had dropped her little bombshell. How could a child accept that she had not been wanted by one of her parents? For him it had been fairly easy growing up in a foster home most of his life. Most of the kids there had been in the same boat he’d been in. Every single one of them had been either given up for adoption or had been taken away from their parents because the parents hadn’t cared enough to look out for their welfare. He would never forget the day he had met Mike and the two had bonded and had become the best of friends. It was their dream, their plan to grow up not wanting or needing anyone, and so far that’s the way they’d always kept things. They had each other and they hadn’t needed anyone else. He would never forget that day when Susan Brady’s private investigator had tracked him down, claiming he was her long lost son—the one she’d given up for adoption. After meeting her, she’d told him the long story of how she, a white woman, had fallen in love with this African-American law student and had gotten pregnant.

  His thoughts returned to the present when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Although he didn’t want it to, his heart had gone out to Carla. Her mother’s words had been brutal and cruel. But then, he quickly decided, what was between Carla and her mother was their business. His only concern was his son, which was the reason he was here.

  He would get to see and meet his son for the first time.

  He tried not to be nervous at the thought of how his child would react to him. He intended for this to be the first of several visits. If Carla had a problem with him coming to her home then he would make arrangements for him to spend time with his child elsewhere. But come hell or high water, he intended to be a permanent fixture in his child’s life. He refused for his son to find out about his parent the way he had.

  Or the way Carla had found out about hers.

  He wondered which was worse, growing up not knowing your parents or knowing the one you had had never loved you?

  Before he could ponder that question any further, the door opened and he stared at Carla standing there, looking beautiful as ever. His gaze rolled over her, taking in her pullover blouse and jeans. Jeans never looked so good on a woman and desire quickly spread through him. He remembered another time he had stood on Carla’s doorstep when she’d opened the door. Thanksgiving night nearly three years ago.

  His hand tightened into fists at his side. Now was not the time to be captivated by a beautiful face. He had to remind himself that this was the woman who’d had his child and hadn’t had the decency to tell him. It would have been different if she’d not known how to reach him but she had. He’d made certain of that. In fact after returning to California he’d wanted her to call and for the first couple of months had hoped that she would, for any reason, even if it was to institute a long-distance affair. But…according to Sonya Morrison, Carla thought he had lied to her and was involved with someone else when they had slept together. He wondered how she would react to know that person had

  been his mother.

  “Jesse.”

  Her voice was cool, detached, and he knew she wished he was not there, but as far as he was concerned that was her problem and not his. “Carla, you know why I’m here.”

  “Yes. Please come in. Craig is just finishing up dinner.”

  He entered her home and immediately felt its warmth and homeyness. He glanced around and it was evident that a child lived there. Not because of any toys scattered about, but because of the number of photographs everywhere, as well as the child safety locks he quickly noticed. There was no doubt that she had taken every precaution to keep her child—their child—safe.

  “If you care to have a seat, I’ll go get Craig.”

  Jesse nodded as he sat down on a leather couch. It was obvious she planned to give him the cold shoulder and have very little to say to him. That was fine with him if she wanted to use that approach, since any time her mouth moved he remembered the taste of it. It was a taste he doubted he would ever forget.

  “He was named after your father?” he asked before she could leave the room.

  “Yes.” Carla met his gaze and decided to say, “Craig and I had a long talk today and I told him you were coming for a visit. He’ll be somewhat shy at first, which is understandable, but once he gets to—”

  “Who did you tell him was coming?”

  Carla sighed as she gathered herself. There was no use denying what would soon be the obvious. “His daddy.”

  Jesse’s breath got caught in his lungs. “Am I, Carla?” he asked, wanting her to tell him what he’d wanted to hear directly from her all along. “Am I your son’s father?”

  Everything in Carla went still. She knew what he wanted. He wanted to hear her admit it and there was no way she could not. She looked at him for a long moment, accepting his right to know, a right she had refused him for almost three years. “Yes, Craig is your son,” she said quietly, finally. “Please excuse me while I go get him.”

  Jesse’s throat tightened when Carla left the room. Carla. The woman who was the mother of his child. That single thought had more of an impact than he wanted it to. All along he’d known there was a strong possibility it was true, but hearing her admit it had a sudden calming effect on him.

  “Jesse, this is Craig.”

  Jesse’s head swung around and his gaze fixed on the little boy whose hand Carla held. His breath caught. It was like looking at a miniature of himself. Everything was there, practically the same. The skin tone, the eye color, the hair texture, his features. Even if Carla never acknowledged it with words, the total package clearly showed this was his son.

  Half his.

  He couldn’t deny that although his son had the majority of his features, he also belonged to Carla. He was their son.

  “Craig, this is your daddy. I told you that he was coming by. Say hello.”

  Jesse watched as the little boy’s gaze shifted from staring at the floor to him. “Hello,” he said softly, shyly.

  Jesse’s heart almost stopped but he forced it to keep beating as he slowly crossed the room and crouched down in front of his son, meeting his direct gaze on his level. He became overwhelmed when hazel eyes met hazel eyes and for a momen
t he couldn’t get out the words he had intended to say when an insurmountable degree of emotions surged through him. “Hello, Craig. How are you?” he asked when he was finally able to speak.

  The little boy glanced up at his mother as if seeking her permission to answer. At her nod, he said, “Fine.”

  Jesse stood as he cleared the tightness in his throat. “Would you like to sit on the sofa and talk to me a while?”

  His son frowned. “Can Mommy come, too?”

  Jesse heard fear in his son’s voice and understood. He shot a glance at Carla. “Yes, she can if she wants.”

  Carla didn’t want to. “You’re a big boy, Craig. You can sit on the sofa with your daddy all by yourself. Mommy will be right here. All right?”

  Craig looked at her with pleading eyes. “You won’t go away?”

  She smiled down at the son she loved more than life. “No, I won’t leave the room so go ahead.”

  She then took her son’s hand and placed it in Jesse’s and sensed the emotional impact Craig was having on him. When Jesse walked Craig over to the sofa, she crossed the room to look out the window, needing the distance from the man who had fathered her child.

  She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that Craig was sitting in Jesse’s lap and could see the look of awe and surprise on Jesse’s face to see just how much his son looked like him.

  “So tell me, Craig, are you a good boy?”

  Craig shook his head no. Carla couldn’t help but smile. At least her son was honest.

  “And why not?” Jesse asked as if surprised by the little boy’s response.

  “Because I still wet my pants.”

  Jesse smiled and Carla tried not to be captured by that smile. “But it is something you’re getting better at, right?” Jesse asked.

  “Wetting my pants?”

  Jesse lifted a brow. “No, not wetting them.”

  Craig seemed to ponder that question then said, “Mrs. Boston said I’m getting better.”

 

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