by B. M. Hardin
Mrs. Jones
Book One of the Jones Series
B.M. Hardin
~Because Divorce is not an option…~
The First His and Hers Series
ISBN-10:0991528174
ISBN-13:978-0-9915281-7-2
Copyrights 2014©
All rights reserved by Savvily Published LLC
B.M. Hardin
This book is a work of fiction. All persons, events, places and locales are a product of the others imagination. The story is fictitious and any thoughts of similarities are merely coincidental.
~ Acknowledgements~
With this book, I simply want to acknowledge God. He has taken me farther than I’d ever thought I would go in my writing career and I am so thankful for the gift that he has blessed me with. It is truly something to be doing something that you love and I wouldn’t change it for anything in this world. I love what I do and most of all I love the readers. Because of you, I am where I am in my writing career and I just want to say thank you!
~Dedication~
This book is dedicated to a few of my special and awesome readers!
Shonda-Chaney Miller, Monique Taylor, Sharon Bell, Kita Lashay, Sharon Simmons, Teresa Downing, Toni Futrell, Michelle Williams Ashley, Thelma Mackins, and Arlena Gordon Dean. You guys are some of my superstar readers and thank you so much for supporting me and my work!!! Muah!
HER SIDE OF THE STORY
Chapter One
I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else noticed that I was reciting my part of the wedding vows, before the preacher had fully stopped talking.
After all, this was my third time around.
Naturally, I had memorized what it was that I was supposed to say.
Here I was again, for the third time, standing at an altar, in an off white wedding gown, vowing to love the man standing across from me forever.
I tried to look as happy and as hopeful as I had the first time; though I had the feeling that I wasn’t exactly selling the part as well as I’d hope to.
I glanced briefly at my parents.
They were smiling, but their eyes were condemning. They seemed to be passing judgment.
Earlier that day, Daddy had made a comment saying that this was his fourth time given a daughter away…but he only had two daughters.
Now that’s what you call shade!
You, damn right I was offended…but he was right.
After all, being on my third husband was just a tad bit depressing.
But I was already in my thirties and if I didn’t marry now, I’d probably spend the rest of my life alone.
And that was something that I just couldn’t do.
Believe me; I wasn’t in this situation because I wanted to be. If it had been up to me, I’d still been married to my first husband. But let’s just say that forever had come a lot sooner than I’d thought it would.
On the bright side of things, I’d always heard that good things happened in three’s…did that apply to husbands too? It’s been said that the third time was the charm and for my sake, and Santana’s, I sure hope so.
Focusing back on the matter at hand, I smiled sincerely at Santana.
Santana Jones was the definition of a damn good man. Seriously, if you Googled good man, Santana’s face should have popped up. And that was nothing but the truth! From the very beginning, he had been nothing but good to me and in almost two years, I could truly say that he was still the same man, today, that he’d always been.
You know, most people somewhat change as time goes by; but no, not Santana.
Santana was adorably charming, exciting and witty. He was like a rainbow at the end of a stormy day or that first cup of coffee as soon as you wake up in the morning.
He was truly something. The warmth of his presence, made me feel as though I’d known him all of my life; or at least in another lifetime. He was truly a gift from up above.
And I guess it didn’t hurt that he had a good bit of money too; not a lot---but enough.
We could live comfortably, and without worry. I didn’t have to work, and it was more than enough to keep us stress free.
But…I must admit; it was a lot less than I was used to.
My first husband had been, or maybe still was, a doctor; the second had owned his very own technology company.
And Santana, well, he just owned one-fourth of a construction company.
Santana and three of his friends from college started the business from scratch only a year or so after graduating. Granted, they’d made a good bit of money, and had come a long way from where they’d started, after expenses and splitting everything four ways---it was just enough.
And Lord knows that if it wasn’t for Santana, they would have probably been out of business a long time ago.
Santana was the brains of the operation; the man in the suit, behind the desk, finding and landing the contracts for their business. He went into the office during the week, every single day as if he had to, to make sure that he kept things going for them. The other three were some of the laziest men I’d ever met. But they were his friends…not mine.
But getting back to the point, Santana’s life style just wasn’t as lavish as I was accustomed to.
I guess in a way that was a good thing.
Money was the root, the branch; hell the whole damn tree, of evil.
Everyone wanted a piece of the pie; and experience had taught me that they were willing to do pretty much anything to get it.
But if I had to be completely honest, with or without Santana, money was the least of my worries. I had more than enough of it stashed away; but that was a conversation for another day.
Santana and I met by mistake, and he’d swept me off of my feet by surprise. The day that we’d met, Santana had actually mistaken me for someone else. I turned around to face him with an attitude, but instantly my face softened as I glared at the six foot, almond complexion sensation.
At first glance, I could tell that he wasn’t exactly on my level---income wise that is, but for some reason, I just didn’t care. And Santana could obviously tell that I was what you would call, well off, but that hadn’t stopped him from giving me an overload of his Southern charm.
And it worked.
I never once thought about being with an average guy.
I’d always thought that I needed more. But as it turns out, Santana was everything I’d ever needed and wanted in a man; and I was so grateful, happy, to be standing in front of him about to say I do.
Hungrily eyeing him in his all white tux, I continued to grin at him as he recited his vows to me. He said them with so much joy; so much hope. A blind man could see that this man loved me with everything that he had in him. Santana loved me so much and it showed in everything that he said and in everything that he did.
I couldn’t believe that I almost didn’t marry him.
Though it wasn’t exactly the time or place to reminisce, I thought briefly about a few weeks before the wedding.
Joey crossed my mind.
What can I say about Joey except that…I loved him; and I always had.
Joey and I had grown up together in North Carolina. We were like two peas in a pod. We were best friends and hoping to make that transition into being something more. But when my family moved to Georgia, I had no idea that I would be saying goodbye to Joey forever…sort of.
My Daddy thought that Joey was a bad influence on me and I was forbidden from keeping in contact with him.
My guess was that since Joey was a tad bit older than I was, Daddy was thinking that the obvious had already happened; or that it wouldn’t be long before it actually did. Either way, he’d taken away the only person
that I’d ever truly cared about.
At first, it was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do but eventually, my life went on. And after a while, Joey simply became a distant memory.
That is until Mr. Memory resurfaced years and years later.
I was celebrating my 28th birthday with my first husband, Tony, at a restaurant one evening when I accidently bumped into a gentleman on my way to the bathroom.
Joey.
We both stared at each other in complete awe.
He was my first love; my first everything.
And there he was, in the flesh…looking like a million dollar lottery ticket.
After the initial shock and brief conversation, I found out that he was now living in Georgia, and had been for the past few years; just in the next town over.
All of the emotions for him that I’d buried, came rushing back to my heart and my remembrance all at once. He was my weakness. I had such a weak spot for Joey; similar to the way that most people had a weakness for chocolate or ice cream.
And let’s just say that Joey quickly became my favorite desert.
Of course, one thing led to the next and Joey and I began to have an affair; during my first marriage, my second, and well as for the third…
I now pronounce you husband and wife. Please kiss your bride…
The preacher’s announcement interrupted my thoughts of Joey.
Coming to, I winked an eye at Santana as he puckered up and kissed me like never before.
I really did love him; I wasn’t sure if I was totally or extremely in love with him, but still yet, I loved him.
Santana’s rough hands caressed my cheeks as our lips continued to do their first official dance as husband and wife.
Finally, allowing me to come up for air, Santana smiled at me and stared deep into my eyes.
“I love you,” he said softly.
“I know,” I smirked and grabbed his hand as we faced the cheering crowd.
After jumping the broom, we both began to run until we were completely out of the church doors.
Santana embraced me once more, and I inhaled the scent of his chest.
I could hear his heart racing; as if it was about to beat him to death.
As he wrapped his arms around me, I knew that I had made the right choice.
I was Mrs. Niveah Leanna Jones, and I always would be.
Well…hopefully.
~***~
“Good morning Mrs. Jones,” Santana chimed in my ear.
The smile on his face was priceless.
I was married again---and I couldn’t believe it!
After two terrible marriages, for a while, I had given up on love.
It seemed like everyone that I ever truly loved either left me, used me or had to die to get away from me; and I was starting to think that it was my destiny to be alone forever.
But along came Santana.
He was different and I knew that no matter what, he would always love me and remain loyal to me.
He wouldn’t leave me when he felt like I was no longer good enough. He wouldn’t want to back out of our marriage simply because I no longer served a purpose in his life.
No, he was going to love me, forever---I was sure of it.
But then again; I was sure the first two times too.
We moved to Georgia because my Daddy came up with an astounding engineering idea that hundreds, even thousands of companies use still to this today.
Instead of simply buying his idea, they moved his family closer, to Georgia, so that my Daddy could see the initial process and launch all the way through.
We had come from living from check to check; to having more money than we knew how to spend. Our lives changed drastically, and though we weren’t as rich as some; we were a long way from poor and from where we used to be.
Our lives changed significantly, fast, and we all had to learn to keep up with those around us.
We lived in a nice, gated community and surprisingly, we weren’t the only black family there. We were surrounded by wealthy, educated, people of color.
My first husband, Tony, and his family were actually our next door neighbors.
We were a family of five; Daddy, Mama, my older brother Antonio, my oldest sister Shante, and I was the youngest.
But Tony was one of twelve children; eight boys and four girls to be exact.
I assumed that every time his Daddy touched his Mama, she came up pregnant. She often joked that after the third child, the rest simply walked out. Lord I sure hoped so!
Their house seemed as though it’d taken up half of our street. It was one of the biggest houses I’d ever seen. Tony’s father was a famous and very wealthy and Tony, the second oldest boy, had been the one to follow in his footsteps.
But Tony was nothing like his father.
Mr. Johnson, though very rich and extremely busy; he still loved his family. He adored his wife and his children. He was faithful and no matter how much money he had, his family was always first.
Tony on the other hand, had his priorities all mixed up.
Once his father retired, he left him all of his celebrity clientele and from that moment on Tony was never the same.
At first, things were amazing between us. I mean after all, we had been around each other and each other’s families for years. We were very comfortable with each other and we truly thought that we had it all.
All we’d wanted was something genuine and everlasting; but something happened to Tony along the way.
The more money Tony made, the bigger asshole he became. The kind, and gentle man that he once was, became non-existent. He seemed to be angry all the time. He started turning to other outlets such as alcohol and drugs to relieve some of the pressures of his day.
And turning to everything else, turned him completely away from me.
But no matter what, for me, divorce just wasn’t the way out.
Understand one thing, I was the youngest. Just when I was becoming my own, I was taken away from all of my friends and put in an environment that I knew nothing about. Mama became so busy being the face of the family. Daddy was always busy. My oldest sister a year after moving to Georgia, married and eventually moved far away. And my brother, well, I just won’t even go there. Either way, when I needed someone the most; I was always alone. I made a few friends, but I bonded better with boys, and that’s where Tony came in. I guess in a way he was Joey’s replacement, but my attachment to him became something that I just couldn’t control. If I could breathe for him I would have. It seemed as though I was living my life through him. The love that I had developed for him was scary. I felt like I just couldn’t survive without him. I loved him more than I loved myself. How could I just let him go?
Adding to the pressure, the fact that both of our parents were still happily married, after so many years, definitely made me want to stick it out. After all, that’s all that I’d wanted for us. And I’d taken my vows seriously.
But apparently, Tony hadn’t felt the same.
He started to have numerous of affairs, and after a while I began to do the same.
Well, I only had one…Joey.
But in my heart, I still wanted my marriage to work out.
And as strange as it may sound and despite whatever it was that I felt for Joey, I just couldn’t, wouldn’t, give up on Tony.
But after some time, I guess Tony got tired of the little game that we were playing and he said that he wanted to leave me and get a divorce.
I tried to do everything to keep him. I made promises that I wasn’t sure that I couldn’t keep. I offered to do things that I wasn’t quite sure that I could do, but no matter what I did and despite my efforts…Tony just wanted out.
The only other choice I had was to give him what he wanted…and take his ass to the bank…
“Do you know how much I love you?” Santana asked me, interrupting my thoughts.
I shook away the thoughts of my past and stared into the eyes of the man lying across fr
om me.
His words pierced my soul…but in a good way.
They were always so warm and fluffy, and had the tendency to make me melt.
Santana’s love was so genuine and so kind that it almost seemed unreal.
But it was real…and it was mine.
All mine.
“No, the question is, do you know how much I love you?” I questioned him in a whisper. I licked his lips lightly and followed my actions with a giggle.
I knew that we were about to have a repeat of last night. Things were so hot and steamy that you could have cooked an egg on my left butt cheek.
But though I’d love a repeat, we had to be time conscious because we had a flight to catch. Our honeymoon wouldn’t officially start until I was semi-naked on the beaches of Miami.
But we did have time for just a little bit of action. I could only hope that my lady downstairs had fully recovered from the beating that she’d endured only hours before.
Thinking quickly, I figured that if I made the first move, at least I would be in control, so I rolled over on top of him before he could get the chance to mount me.
I kissed him sensually, and somewhat cautiously.
Though Ms. Ruby was definitely focusing on the ten inch thickness that was rubbing up against my inner thighs, my mind was all over the place.
I was now Mrs. Santana Jones and Lord knows that Santana was the best thing that’d ever happened to me.
So why was I thinking about Joey?
Joey wasn’t at all happy about my decision to remarry; especially after all of his efforts to end my last marriage.
He had even gone as far as threatening to kill me and Santana if I went through with it all but what right did he have to make such a demand?
After all--- he was married too.
That’s right.
Joey was married and had been the entire time that we’d been fooling around. He had a fairly attractive Latino wife; and two beautiful little girls.