Admission of Love

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Admission of Love Page 13

by Niobia Bryant

“He rolled up the sleeves of the shirt he had on and got right down in the dirt with me planting those flowers. I was so impressed by him. And after we finished in the little garden, if you can call it that, we went upstairs to his apartment and drank lemonade and talked."

  “Terrence was twenty-seven and a musician. He played the trumpet and knew everything about every song you could name. His apartment was filled with crates of records from the floor to the ceiling, and there were posters and pictures of him with famous singers he played with or got an autograph from. He grew up in Harlem, but both of his parents died in an accident. His birthday was August thirteenth, a Leo. He was an only child, just like you and me, Chloe.”

  “We would sit on the porch just outside his first floor apartment and listen to jazz playing from his old record player through the window. Or he would play his trumpet for me. He was so romantic and loved to play tricks on me, and he was forever reading . . . just like someone else I know.”

  “Me Mama?” Chloe asked, looking for some piece of him in her.

  Adell nodded. ‘‘Yes, he loved to read just like you.”

  "Did you love him, Mama?”

  "Yes, baby, I loved him with all my heart.” Her voice was hoarse with pain.

  ∞

  Tears blurred Chloe’s vision and with good judgment she pulled her SUV over onto the side of the road. Even today her father’s betrayal stung. Those same questions she had as a child remained unanswered. As she got older she realized that her mother had filled her with all the details on her sire, but always succeeded in avoiding directly answering those questions.

  With age and wisdom she had eventually answered them herself. He wasn’t dead, he never showed his face, and never called ... he didn’t want her. And that hurt and affected her more deeply than she was willing to admit.

  Now here she was, her loving mother gone, her best friend a thousand miles away, her grandparents gone, and with a father who might as well be dead because he had never been there for her.

  Chloe hated the tears, but looking at the children in the playground had opened up all these feelings she thought she had long buried. She dropped her head on top of her hands on the steering wheel. Soon they were soaked with her tears, and she just didn’t have the strength to drive.

  So she let the tears flow freely. Her body shook and never had she felt so alone in her life.

  ∞

  Devon headed down Highway 17 from Walterboro, on his way back from a trip to the hardware store to pick up the eight boxes of nails they needed. He could have sent anyone to purchase them, but he felt like a ride. The wiring and plumbing were complete, allowing the interior walls, ceilings and floors to be installed. The house would be finished within the allotted time, if not sooner.

  With a sigh he decided to stop at the diner and grab lunch for the crew. Devon picked up the cell phone from off the seat, where it carelessly lay, and dialed Donnie’s. He wanted to get back to the site ASAP, so he placed an order for something that could be made fast ... ten club sandwiches with fries. The sandwiches were about the only thing Donnie made that was good.

  In another ten minutes he would reach Holtsville and the order should be at least halfway finished. Devon tapped his strong fingers against the steering wheel as the radio played a new rap song by Method Man of the Wu Tang Clan. He smiled as he remembered how Deshawn and Chloe had blasted the song on her SUV’s radio while they washed the rather large vehicle. Soon their good intentions went when Chloe started a water fight with his brother.

  He had watched them from where he sat on the porch, his eyes squinted against the sun. Of course he had thought it hilarious when they doused each other at the same time, Chloe using a bucket of water and Deshawn the hose.

  How was he supposed to know that they would both turn on him, quickly soaking him right where he sat? What could he do but join in and get some revenge? It was the most fun he had had in a long time, and the sight of Chloe’s T-shirt soaked to her skin, revealing a skimpy lace bra, hadn’t been half bad either.

  The diner was just ahead on his right and Devon swung his truck into the parking spot easily. Leaving the truck running, he jumped out and walked into the small diner. It was empty except for the cashier/waitress Poochie and Donnie. He glanced at his watch, seeing that it wasn’t quite time for the noontime rush.

  “Hey twin,” Donnie called out from the window separating the kitchen from the patrons’ dining area. It allowed him to look out at his patrons but pretty much cut any ideas of someone looking into the kitchen off completely.

  “Twin” was many of the townspeople’s way of addressing Deshawn and him, since they couldn’t tell the two apart.

  “What’s up Donnie?” he yelled back. Eight white Styrofoam containers sat on the counter, so he knew the order was almost complete.

  “Hello there Poochie,” he addressed the voluptuous woman behind the register as he reached in his back pocket for his wallet.

  “Hey there.” She started to ring up his bill on the register, but her eyes kept darting back up to Devon’s face. “Which one are you anyway? Not that it matters, you both look so damn good!”

  Devon looked up from the money he was counting. The invitation was obviously there in her dark eyes. There was a time he would have gotten her number, taken her on a date or two, and enjoyed himself between her voluptuously thick thighs. But, oddly, his taste had moved on from the woman’s light complexion, full heavy breasts, ample derriere and wide hips. Thus Poochie’s ample good looks enticed him for but a brief moment and then waned, while the desire he had for a slim, sharp-tongued woman of dark bronze would not subside.

  Feeling devilish, Devon gave her his best imitation of his twin’s wolfish find charming grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening. “I’m Deshawn,” he drawled with a wink.

  She took the money he offered to pay the bill, letting her hand lightly caress his fingers. “Well of course you are. I can see it now. You’re much cuter than the other one.”

  Devon nearly choked on his laughter. Was she for real? They were totally identical! Playing along, he said, “That’s what the ladies always say. Why don’t you give me your number?”

  He swore she actually swayed on her feet before tearing off one of the receipt tickets and pulling a pencil from deep in the valley of her ample cleavage. Devon had to admit that that move even made him swallow over a sudden lump in his throat.

  Poochie licked the tip of the pencil in a seductive move, her tongue moist and pink, before writing her number down without moving her eyes off of him. “You make sure you call me.” Her voice was low and husky as she kissed the ticket, leaving a lush pink replica of her pouted lips on the paper.

  “I sure will.”

  Donnie came out of the back carrying the last two containers. She reluctantly looked away from him to help bag the orders, eventually handing the five plastic bags over to him with a smile. “Bye, Deshawn.”

  Devon waved and left, gratefully, putting the bags on the seat next to him. He laughed as he put the truck in reverse and then pulled into traffic.

  He turned off the main road and headed home, his mind imagining Deshawn’s face when he gave him Poochie’s number. He had just come around the bend past the day care center when he saw Chloe’s SUV parked on the side of the road. He knew it was her because who else could afford the luxury vehicle, and her personalized license plate, “CHLOE,” helped a whole lot.

  Concerned, Devon flipped down his signal light and pulled off the road behind her. He turned off the truck and jumped down to the ground. At first he thought it was empty, but as he walked briskly forward he saw that she was slumped onto the steering wheel.

  Moving fast, Devon yanked open the driver’s door. He heard her whimpers before she even looked up at him with tear-filled hazel eyes. Her face was wet, and tenderness for her filled him.

  “Come here, Chloe. What’s the matter?” He reached in and swung her easily onto the ground to stand in front of him. Wordlessly he pulled her body
into a tight embrace against him. Her frame still shook with tears.

  Chloe couldn’t stop crying and she thought, with a wry sense of humor, that it had to be hormonal. Lord only knew she didn’t want to be an emotional mess in front of anyone, especially Devon. And on the side of the road, no less!

  She let her body be calmed by the soothing way he swayed back and forth, rocking her like she was a baby. But even in her emotional haze she was well aware of the feel of Devon’s muscled thighs against hers, the feel of both of her palms against his muscled chest beneath the thin white T-shirt, and the heavy masculine scent of him as she smelled the column of his neck where her face lay.

  Her back tingled where his hands were wrapped around her and she was comforted by the feel of his chin resting on top of her head. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held her.

  Devon was busy feeling like a heel.

  Why?

  Because even though his intention had been to comfort her when she was obviously in need, his body was fast becoming aroused by the feel of her body so near to his. Somehow he figured it would feel this good to have her in his arms. But he knew now was not the time to press his erection against her, so he moved his lower half away from her.

  Chloe took deep breaths to calm herself until the flow of bitter tears finally subsided. Reluctantly she raised her head from the warm hollow of his neck to look up at him, “I’m sorry. It’s just one of those days I guess."

  The explanation sounded weak even to her own ears.

  Devon looked down into those haunting hazel eyes with their odd cat shape. He knew if he allowed himself, he could get lost in their bright depths.

  “Are you hurt?” he said. It was a question he realized he should have asked when he first approached her.

  Chloe shook her head, unable to look away from him. “I’m fine.”

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  Instinctively she knew from the concern in his eyes and from the tender way he held her that he would listen. She thought talking about it would just open up the dam of tears again. “Rain check?”

  Devon smiled. “Anytime.”

  Was this caring man comforting her when she felt at her lowest the same man she had been at war with for weeks? Hard to believe, but true. "Thanks, Devon."

  He felt the faint breeze of her breath against his lips. Her mouth was open and moist, so inviting. How could he help but want to feel those lips against his own, to want to know the taste of her tongue? Damn, he wanted her! It was driving him insane.

  Chloe shivered in desire and she nearly fainted in pleasure when she saw the same attraction for her in his eyes. Devon wanted her!

  When he growled low in his throat and lowered his head toward her, never had Chloe felt so desired. She leaned her face upwards, rushing to experience the kiss she yearned for as she enjoyed the hard pounding of his heart against her hands.

  Their mouths were just an inch apart, so close they breathed in the air between them slowly. Chloe’s eyes were closed in anticipation.

  Devon released her suddenly and stepped back, his expression remote and closed. She felt waves of bitter disappointment and almost toppled forward with her lips hilariously puckered. She caught herself from falling and stared at Devon with amazement. Had she imagined that he was going to kiss her?

  No, definitely not. He changed his mind . . . that’s all.

  “Are you feeling better, Chloe? I picked up lunch for our crew and I don’t want it to get cold.” His tone was neutral as he looked at her. Gone was the light of desire in the obsidian depths of his beautiful eyes.

  Chloe nodded and got back in her SUV, closing the solid door firmly behind her. She started to say something, anything, but what was there to say? So instead she waved and forced a stiff smile before pulling the vehicle back onto the road.

  Devon watched her drive around the next bend until her vehicle disappeared out of his sight. “Damn it,” he swore, using his hand to massage his jaw, an obviously nervous gesture. He kicked the ground, causing dirt to fly up around him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation.

  Growling in frustration, he paced in front of his pickup until his erection eased. Once in control, he got back into the cab of his truck. Okay, he wanted to kiss her . . . badly, and she wanted him to kiss her. “Why the hell didn’t I just do it?” he asked himself as he started the truck and steered it back onto the road.

  ∞

  Chloe parked the SUV in one of the spots in the garage behind the house. She wasn’t given the chance to fret over what had happened, or rather what almost happened, between Devon and her. Just as she stepped off the running-board and walked around the vehicle to retrieve her packages from the back, a large silver delivery truck passed by on the road.

  “Ansa” was emblazoned on the side and Chloe knew it was the special cabinets that she had ordered for the kitchen. Rushing, she flew into the house, yelling a quick hello to Nana Lil before dashing up the stairs. She pulled off the scarlet tank and capri pants that she wore, carelessly throwing the clothes onto a pile in the middle of the bed.

  From the heavy mahogany trunk at the foot of the bed she pulled out a pair of faded and well-worn Versace stonewashed jeans and a crisp white T-shirt. It was only when she began to pull on the jeans that she realized she had put on a few pounds. Chloe had to struggle to button the now snug denims. She did some leg bends to loosen the fit some before walking over to look at her reflection in the round cheval mirror in the comer of the room. She studied her newly blossomed figure from all angles in the mirror.

  Her derriere was definitely more round and her hips more curvaceous, but still slender. She liked it and immediately pushed all thoughts of dieting away.

  After pulling her hair into a ponytail, Chloe sat on the end of the bed to slip her bare feet into her sneakers. Moments later she jogged downstairs. “Nana Lil, I’m going down to my house,” she called out over her shoulder as she moved toward the front door.

  “Chloe!” Lil’s shrill yell stopped her in her steps.

  When she turned back to peek her head through the front door, it was to find Nana Lil walking out of her bedroom with her orthopedic shoes in her hand. “Wait for me. I wanna see how this house of yours is coming along for myself.”

  It took just a few moments for her to put on her shoes. Chloe helped her up into the SUV before rushing around the front of the truck to hop up into the plush leather driver’s seat.

  She backed out of the driveway, looking over her left shoulder as she did. “I saw the delivery truck go by with the cabinets and shelves I ordered for my kitchen,” she said. Her husky voice was filled with excitement as she steered the vehicle easily. “I can’t wait to see them.”

  Nana Lil smiled in understanding and reached over to lightly pat her hand on the steering wheel. “I just know they’re lovely, baby.”

  Chloe flipped on her left turn signal as she slowed down in front of the site. All of the men were scattered about the property. Some sat on the porch, on the hoods of vehicles, or just on the grass, as they ate the lunches Devon had spoken of. His truck was pulled alongside the delivery track, and she saw both him and Deshawn conferring with the driver.

  She had to admit that the site of Devon was impressive enough, but Deshawn and he standing close together was overwhelming. All three of the men turned in the direction of the SUV as Chloe pulled into the driveway and parked next to his truck.

  Nana Lil clapped her hands together in pleasure as she studied the structure through the windshield. “It’s already so beautiful and it’s huge. I’ll have to be sure to visit often so that you’re not lonely in that big ol’ house of yours.”

  Chloe smiled. “You’re welcome anytime, as long as you promise to bring those lemon cookies of yours that I love so much.”

  She laughed in pleasure. “That sounds like a plan.”

  They left the vehicle and walked over to the delivery truck where the men were. The driver and another man were about to unload the
crates holding her cabinets and shelves. Devon and Deshawn both looked at their grandmother in surprise.

  Deshawn spoke first. “Nana Lil, what are you doing here?”

  “Can’t an old lady get out of the house? I didn’t know I was on house arrest, Shawnie.”

  Chloe was amazed as always that the old woman could tell them apart, and she seemed to be the only one able to do so. If she wasn’t aware what color T-shirt Devon had on, then she wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart so quickly. She had to remember to ask Nana Lil how she did it every time.

  “Hi fellas.” Chloe waved briefly, purposely focusing her eyes on the men at work unfastening the straps that secured their cargo during transit.

  She was nervous just being near him, and she became quiet as one of the twins directed the men to carry the boxes into the house and leave them in the kitchen. Nana Lil’s constant chatter was not enough to bring Chloe out of her reverie.

  Devon had been so close to kissing her; she had seen it in his eyes. She was certain now that he wanted her but he didn’t want to want her. He had fought the desire to kiss her and then became distant. It wasn’t as if she wanted to want him either. She was firmly resolved not to get involved with anyone, but if he had kissed her back on the side of that road she knew she would have gladly given in to the passion. Her body was drawn to him, overruling what her head tried to remind her about getting hurt.

  Of course she thought a big part of her problem was that she hadn’t had intimacy for years. She was a normal woman with needs. Maybe she had denied herself pure physical pleasure for too long.

  But sex had never been uppermost in her mind, not until she met this brooding southern man. Chloe wanted him . . . badly. She considered giving a man her heart the same as giving him the power to hurt her, but what if she gave her body without the heart being involved at all . . . was that the same thing?

  Shaking her head, Chloe forced the thoughts out of her head as she noticed that the delivery men were taking the last of the shipment into the house. The twins were standing together, still by the delivery truck laughing at something, and their grandmother was talking to one of the crew members about his ailing aunt.

 

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