“Of course, but can I ask one thing?” She stood and took the bowl from the older woman to carry into the house. “What’s that?”
Lil laughed. “It’s the supermarket. Child, you got a lot to learn about the South.”
∞
Devon took a much-needed break, glad the construction of the roof was now complete . . . ahead of schedule. He climbed down the ladder. The site was filled with the sounds of saws, hammers banging, and welding as their crew continued to work throughout the house.
Glancing down at his leather-banded watch, he saw that it was nearly four o’clock. He crossed the grassy land to where his pickup truck was parked. The cooler on the bed held soda and spring water floating in the melted ice water. Devon picked a bottle of water.
His stomach growled in hunger. This morning before they left for work, Nana Lil had set out steaks to thaw for dinner. His mouth actually watered at the thought of her frying and smothering the steaks in gravy, accompanied by mashed potatoes. He was starving, having worked through lunch. As soon as he got the word that the electrician’s crew was finished for the day, he would wrap up work.
He saw the electrician and his small crew packing their supplies and called out for his team to finish up for the day. Within the hour Devon was heading down the road, just a short distance from home. He couldn’t help but think of what awaited him, or rather whom.
Chloe.
He still couldn’t believe that she was living with them. Could he stand a month of her royal highness? He didn’t think so. But he had to stand her because his grandmother had spoken and there were no arguments to be won with her.
The house was empty when he got there. Deshawn was supervising the completion of the Devane’s room addition in Summerville, and there was a note from Nana Lil saying she drove into Charleston with Chloe.
The only smell coming from the kitchen was the faint odor of lemons. No steaks, no mashed potatoes. Nothing. He didn’t even bother to look in the fridge. His culinary skills went as far as barbecuing on the grill outside. But a barbecue without potato salad, buttered corn on the cob, baked beans and catfish stew was not worth it.
So he grabbed an orange from the bowl on the table and went up to his bedroom. A long hot shower would loosen up the tightness in his shoulders and kill some time until his Nana returned. Quickly he undressed, leaving his dusty jeans and T-shirt in a pile with his underclothes and boots. He crossed the floor to the door adjoining to the sitting room of his suite.
His entertainment center was kept there, because he believed his bed was for two things only: sleeping and sex, not lounging around watching TV
It was a quarter to five as he turned on the television before retracing his steps through his bedroom to the door leading into his private bathroom. He turned the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked!
“What the hell?”
Naked, and not caring a bit that he was, Devon strode with long purposeful steps out of his bedroom and into the hall. He barged into the bathroom, and halted in his tracks.
This wasn’t how he left it this morning. It was spotless and the faint scent of pine mingled with the spicy scent of his soap. His towel hung neatly on the rack behind the door and the bar of soap sat neatly in the dish above the sink.
It had to be her. Chloe.
This morning he had forgotten that he had to share the bathroom with her. Obviously she hadn’t liked the way he left it. She also had locked the door leading into his bedroom and forgotten to unlock it when she was finished.
The thought of her naked and wet body, lathered with foamy soap suds in his shower, sent a wave of desire through him. With the freedom of no clothes, his malehood lengthened and hardened where he stood. Growling, he jumped into the shower and turned the cold water on full blast, hoping to freeze the vixen from his memory. He directed the spray toward his groin area, eventually easing the burning hardness of his loins. In frustration, he showered quickly and left the confines of the shower, wrapping a gray towel around his waist.
He was rummaging through the top drawer of his dresser for a pair of boxers when the female voice on the television mentioned Chloe’s name. His hand paused midway in the air as he turned to look through the open doorway at the big-screen television in the next room.
“This is your entertainment reporter Ericka Sloven out of Los Angeles. I have the latest scoop on supermodel diva Chloe Bolton. Reportedly she will build a home on land left to her by her mother, who passed away nine years ago after a battle with breast cancer. Her luxury apartment in New York has not been put on the market yet, so insiders are unsure of where she will reside now that she’s retired. Chloe’s publicist would neither deny nor confirm the story. I’ve followed Ms. Bolton’s ground-breaking career for years. If her retirement last year, while still highly in demand, was not shocking enough, now a move to Nowhere, South Carolina. It’s completely out of character for the beauty. I’m so shocked I’m speechless and that’s a first for me! Ta-ta for now darlings.”
Devon watched the images of Chloe flash onto the screen: Chloe on the runway; at a party; clutching the arm of a man; on the cover of Vogue magazine; standing among her celebrity peers. Each shot as beautiful as the last.
Long after the news segment went off, the words were in his head. Words that rang so close to his beliefs. Chloe Bolton in Holtsville, South Carolina . . . shocking.
Devon laughed shortly at the thought, as he angrily jerked on a pair of cotton boxers. Why was he angry? He didn’t even know why himself.
Was it because she had scrubbed his bathroom spotless? No, that’s something I should’ve done myself.
Was it because of the crap he heard on the news? Nowhere, South Carolina, indeed. Nope.
Or was it because his body was drawn to her, completely ignoring the logic of his brain? Bingo. Thoughts of her make me feel like a horny teenager, and I don’t like it.
Chapter Five
After he got dressed, Devon left the house and crossed the short distance to the office. He playfully gave Alicia a light tap on the back of her head as he passed her. “Why are you still here?”
“I wanted to finish up these requisitions that have to go out tomorrow morning. And your messages are on your desk.” She swiveled in her chair to look at him. “I was just about to beep you. You have to sign these when I’m done.”
When she placed the form before him on the desk, he read them quickly before scrawling his signature on the appropriate line. A copy of Chloe’s blueprints were still unrolled on his drafting table. He was amazed at the irony of the entire situation.
He hadn’t cared for her living down the road from him, or even in the entire town, for that matter. Now here she was living in his house, sharing his very private bathroom, sleeping nude in the room above him—
Devon sat up straight with a start. Sleeping nude?
Where did that come from?
Well, she had been very naked under that thin sheet last night. Her brown round nipples strained against the cotton, yearning to be massaged, and kissed, and bitten . . .
“Excuse me, boss.”
Devon focused on Alicia, who was looking at him with an odd expression. “What, Alicia?” he snapped impatiently.
“For the twentieth time: What are you thinking about?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
Devon cleared his throat and pulled his chair closer to his drafting table. Was he supposed to tell her of his erotic daydream about Chloe Bolton? A very naked Chloe Bolton.
Oh, hell no!
Instead he mumbled, “Nothing.”
“Well that nothing had you staring into space with a big goofy grin on your face.”
Devon ignored her, pretending to study the plans he had nearly memorized. Eventually she turned back to her desk, muttering under her breath.
“Oh Dev, I almost forgot. I met your houseguest today.” She turned back around to study his reaction carefully.
Knowing she was scrutinizing him, Devon remained stoic. “Big
deal. You didn’t ask for an autograph, did you?” His tone dripped with heavy sarcasm.
“Yeah, whatever Devon.” Her eyes were narrowed in speculation. “An-y-way, more of the special order materials for her house arrived today. They’re in the storage area with the rest of it. The copies for the orders are in her file.”
“Thanks Al. You’re a gem.”
“Even though I’m not a supermodel?” she asked, the question less innocent than it seemed.
“Especially because you’re not a supermodel.” He stood and walked over to the metal cabinet to pull out Chloe’s bulging manila folder. “Believe me, you as a woman and her as a woman are two entirely different things.”
The rest of Devon’s words became unimportant to Alicia as she focused on: You as a woman and her as a woman are two entirely different things.
Hell, didn’t she know it? She didn’t need Devon of all people to remind her of it. Jealousy of the woman burned her until her ears felt like they were on fire. She looked over at Chloe’s calendar on the wall by Deshawn’s working area. Alicia knew that could never be her in the playful shot, capturing the beauty in a bright floral tankini on a white sand beach.
Bah!
She wished she could yank the offending thing off the wall and tear it to shreds. It was a constant reminder of everything she wasn’t and would never be. Everything that she was afraid Devon would eventually want, especially with them both living under the same roof. The idea of her living down the road had been bad enough.
You as a woman and her as a woman are two entirely different things.
She had finally met her this afternoon when she popped over to visit Nana Lil. They had been preparing to ride into Charleston. The woman, Alicia grudgingly admitted, was as naturally beautiful as she was in full glamour mode on television. Chloe was every man’s fantasy and every woman’s nemesis. And now she was living in Devon’s house. She sensed trouble with a capital “T.”
“Uhm, Devon, I’ll see you tomorrow okay.” Quickly she gathered her purse and left the building, barely giving him time to say goodbye.
You as a woman and her as a woman are two entirely different things.
She drove home in silence, her thoughts full. As soon as she was inside her small, two-bedroom cottage, she stripped off all her clothes and walked into her bedroom. Naked, she stood in front of her full-length cheval glass mirror.
She was honest at what she saw in the reflection. The small breasts, small waist and significantly larger bottom half of her short frame didn’t compare to Chloe’s tall and shapely slender frame.
You as a woman and her as a woman are two entirely different things.
She let her mind drift to Devon’s tall, muscled frame and good looks. As her want of him rose, she watched as her brown nipples hardened in the reflection. Aching to release the building need, she hurried to climb into her bed, using her hands to massage the bud between her legs. With her eyes closed, she thought of him, dreamed it was him . . . wished it truly was him pleasuring her. One day she would have the real thing . . . Devon Jamison.
∞
“You’re where? . . . Doing what?”
Lil held the phone away from her ear at Devon’s loud and shocked exclamations. When the line went quiet again, she replaced the phone to her ear. “Lower your voice,” she scolded in a no-nonsense tone.
“Where’s Ms. Bolton?”
Lil glanced over across the living room of the suite where Chloe lay on her belly, being carefully massaged. Her eyes were closed and she seemed perfectly relaxed. “Chloe’s right here having a Swedish massage. I’m having one after my avocado facial. Anyway we decided to stay in the suite tonight and we’ll be home in the morning, so you boys better grill those steaks yourself ... yes Vonnie, I will. . . okay . . . bye-bye.”
Chloe opened one eye to glance over at Nana Lil, her heart hammering in her chest just knowing Devon was on the phone.
“Whoa, Ms. Bolton, you suddenly got so tense around your shoulders.” The masseur began to gently knead her back. “Just relax.
She tried to, but it was hard when she thought of Devon’s constant anger and derision toward her. And on top of that she discovered that Olivia had left three messages at the front desk for her last night. She returned her call to discover that she had been nominated for the fashion industry’s Female Model of the Year award for the work she did last year before she retired.
Olivia’s enthusiasm had been off the charts, but at this point in Chloe’s life she didn’t want to have such a visible link to the profession she’d recently retired from. The televised event was being held in New York and Chloe knew she would attend. Never would she be so ungracious as to not show up.
Now she would have to find the right outfit and hairstyle.
God, images.
Well the ceremony wasn’t for another few months so at least she didn’t have to worry about it . . . for now.
“Please, just relax.”
‘Just relax,’ she mimicked his words to herself. That's easy for him to say.
∞
Devon was lounging in one of the matching green leather recliners in front of the television in the living room. He was watching the local weather report. The bright light of Deshawn’s lights flashed against the far wall as he turned his truck into the driveway. Minutes later his heavy footsteps carried him up the steps and into the house.
“What’s up, big brother?” he joked, referring to the fact that Devon was born six minutes before he was. Nana Lil liked to say that he bullied his way out first.
“Nothing, what’s up with you?”
“We finished up at the Devane’s. They’re very pleased and I deposited their check for payment, making me very pleased.” He stretched his own tall frame into the other recliner.
“Make sure you have Alicia drive out and take pictures for our portfolio.” His gaze was fixed on the television. “Looks like a one hundred percent chance of rain tomorrow and Wednesday.”
Deshawn reached over and plucked the remote from his brother’s fingers with a smile. “Where’s our resident beauty?”
Devon snorted in derision. “She and Nana Lil are spending the night in Charleston in her penthouse suite at the Grand Royal. As a matter of fact, when I spoke to her she was having an avocado facial and Chloe was having a ... a ...” he struggled to remember the term. “A Swedish massage.”
Deshawn whistled. “That’s something I would love to be a fly on the wall to see. Chloe Bolton butt naked on a table. Good lawdy!”
“You would say something crude like that,” Devon drawled.
“Did Nana Lil sound like she was having fun?” Deshawn laughed out as he watched the seventies sitcom he had turned the television to.
“Yeah,” Devon admitted grudgingly.
“So that’s why I don’t smell dinner cooking.” He shut the TV off. “How ’bout dinner at Donnie’s?”
Devon’s stomach grumbled in response as he glanced over at his twin. “It’ll beat a blank, which is what we have. Let’s go.”
Deshawn laughed as they stood, and he clapped his twin on the back. “Oh, and bring your wallet. It’s your turn to treat.”
∞
The sun was nowhere to be seen among the gray and cloudy skies. The rain was pelting against the car, resembling the hollow beating of a drum. Chloe steered the sports car off the main road. Cyrus waved from the window of his storefront, and she blew the horn twice briefly in return as she passed.
She steered the car carefully on the wet roads, headed for the house. Lil yawned and Chloe knew she had to be tired. After their glamour session in the suite, which lasted three hours, they had found the nearest mall and had gone shopping with Chloe disguised in shades and a baseball cap.
She smiled when she remembered Nana Lil’s expression when she paid four hundred dollars for a Donna Karan blazer, which was marked down. Chloe knew she had splurged, but she could afford to spend the three thousand dollars she did. She had even pleaded with Nana
Lil to allow her to purchase a pearl watch that she saw her admire. She found three Basic Reality tailored shirts by Toni Smalls, a black designer that both she and Anika loved. They were already on the way to be shipped to her best friend in New Jersey.
After returning to the suite they ordered room service: Alaskan salmon and asparagus for Chloe and grilled skinless chicken breasts for Lil. They had sat up all night trading funny stories and watching old movies on cable.
That morning they went exploring antique shops and rummage sales. Chloe had found a beautiful mahogany rocker said to be dated to the early 1800s, and a glass and steel curio cabinet that she planned to use in the kitchen. Both items were to be delivered that Monday morning and she planned to ask Deshawn if she could keep it in their storeroom behind the office until her house was finished.
After a late lunch they returned to the room and packed up the clothes Chloe had brought with her. Much to the manager’s distress, and her pleasure, she checked out of the hotel.
Now at nearly five P.M. she turned the car onto the smoothly paved driveway. Both Devon’s and Deshawn’s pickup trucks were parked in front of the office along with Alicia’s small compact.
Lil reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic rain cap to cover her hair. “Ain’t nothing but rain,” she said when she saw Chloe hesitate to get out of the shelter of the car. “Just pretend it’s a shower.”
She watched as Lil left the car and calmly walked in the rain onto the porch. Chloe dashed out behind her, and although she moved as quickly as she could, she still got drenched in the pouring rain. The white cotton tank dress she wore clung to her body and Chloe couldn’t help but shiver from the chill in the air before she entered the house.
Lil was on the phone in the living room. “Hello Devon . . . oops, sorry Deshawn. When the rain lets up some y’all come and get Chloe’s luggage and our packages out of the car.” She paused, obviously listening to the person on the other end. “Yes, I had fun Shawnie, but will you get off this phone in this weather and just do as I asked.”
Admission of Love Page 8