Forces of Nature

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by Cheris Hodges




  Crystal stood up to the towering guard. “If you want me to leave, get Wellington out here. Otherwise, I’m camping out.”

  Moments later, a tall man, moving with the grace of a panther and the body of a Greek god, crossed the lobby and planted himself in front of her. Crystal gazed up at him, momentarily speechless as he stared at her with slate gray eyes. His full lips seemingly beckoned her to kiss them, and those hands—big and wide with long fingers—she wanted them on her body, caressing her breasts, thighs, and everything in between. She blinked and swallowed hard. She needed to get her hormones together; she wasn’t here to lust after this man, whoever he was. She was here to meet with Wellington and she didn’t give a damn if they sent Denzel Washington to the lobby to meet her—Crystal wasn’t moving until she got what she wanted. Still, the man looking at her was fine as hell.

  His face told a story of annoyance, with a scowl darkening his handsome features and his wide nostrils flaring with anger. “Are you going to just stare at me or do you have something to say?” His voice reminded her of a sensual sax, hypnotic and melodic. Her body was electrified at the thought of him whispering sweet words of passion in her ear.

  “I’m not talking to anyone but Douglas Wellington.” Crystal’s voice wavered, but not from fear. Carnal desire described what she was feeling as she stared into his eyes.

  “I am Douglas Wellington,” he announced dryly.

  Also by Cheris Hodges

  Just Can’t Get Enough

  Let’s Get It On

  More than He Can Handle

  Betting on Love

  No Other Lover Will Do

  His Sexy Bad Habit

  Too Hot for TV

  Recipe for Desire

  Published by Dafina Books

  Forces of Nature

  CHERIS HODGES

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Crystal stood up to the towering guard. “If you want me to leave, get Wellington out here. Otherwise, I’m camping out.”

  Also by Cheris Hodges

  Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Prelude Reeseville, 1974

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  There’s something about the country. As a small-town girl myself, I always wanted to play in the grass and visit—not work—on a farm. Too bad I was allergic to everything. In Forces of Nature we do go to a farm, where Crystal and Douglas have an unconventional relationship that started with handcuffs. . . . I hope you enjoy their story.

  I want to thank all of the readers who have supported my work over the years; from your e-mails, tweets, and Facebook messages, I feel so blessed. This is always the hardest part of writing a book, because I feel like I’m always forgetting someone, but charge it to my head and not my heart.

  Thank you to some of the most supportive people I could ever have on my side: my agent Sha-Shana Crichton, my sister Adrienne Hodges Dease, Louise Brown, Michele Grant, Farrah Rochon, Phyllis Bourne, Yolanda Gore, Beverly McDuffie, Erica Singleton, Wendy Covington, Tiffany Strange, Tashmir Parks, Connie Banks Smith, Carlton Hargro, Mary C. Curtis, and as always, my mom and dad, Doris and Freddie Hodges.

  I’d like to thank the book clubs who have hosted me and supported my work, including, the Sistahfriends book clubs—Columbia, Charleston, and Atlanta—the Building Relationships Around Books group, Real Readers Real Words group, the Black Romance and Women’s Fiction book clubs.

  Follow me on Twitter @cherishodges and be sure to friend me on Facebook/cherishodges.

  Prelude Reeseville, 1974

  Douglas Wellington Jr. was filled with rage as he watched her with him. Joel Hughes thought he was so much better than everybody else because of that damned farm. Thought he was the town’s golden boy because he went off to college and returned to Reeseville to work on the farm. People thought that farm was special because of the history and mythology that went along with it. First property in the county owned by African Americans—so what. The farm had been passed down through the Hughes family for over a century, each generation adding to the allure of it. So. What.

  Douglas was making history himself. He had money and was no longer “Junior” from the wrong side of the tracks. Erin Hamilton needed to recognize that. He loved her more than he loved the woman he’d married, a practical clone of Erin. The same complexion and height. But Evelyn Wellington lacked the softness and tenderness that Douglas had always admired in Erin. In high school, they’d dated briefly, before he came along and stole her away. She’d been kind to Douglas when other girls turned their noses up at him. His good grades and love of reading impressed Erin, while others laughed at him and called him a nerd.

  She’d never judged him or his shoes with the holes in the soles. But that boy was gone and here was a man with everything. How in the hell could she choose Joel Hughes—a glorified farmhand—over him? His eyes clouded with anger as they kissed and Joel’s hand fell to her belly. Was his Erin pregnant? Pregnant with Joel’s child? This should have been his future! She should’ve been having his child and allowing him to give her everything that her heart desired. Everything that his money could buy.

  Douglas’s manufacturing company, Welco Industries, had revolutionized the economy of Reeseville, North Carolina. He’d brought jobs that paid real money into town. Many of the properties that he couldn’t even visit as a child now belonged to him. He purposely went after people who he felt had wronged him in the past, buying their houses that he had admired as a child only to tear them down. Money changed things and changed the way people viewed him.

  Douglas Wellington Jr. was even a member of the Duval County Country Club, a place that wouldn’t even allow him to shine shoes there when he was a teenager. Still, he didn’t have the one thing that he wanted more than anything. He didn’t have Erin by his side.

  “Why are you doing this to yourself?” Waylon Terrell asked his forlorn friend. “She’s moved on and you’re married!”

  “Shut up,” Douglas snapped. “There’s always been something about Erin, and I wanted to marry her.”

  “Things didn’t work out the way you wanted. What are you going to do about it? It’s not as if you have room to complain,” Waylon said. “You’ve done pretty damned well for yourself.”

  Douglas glared at him. “And so have you. Were it not for me, you’d still be working on that farm like a mule.”

  Waylon folded his arms across his broad chest. He enjoyed working in the business office at Hughes Farm. His friend had no idea what that farm meant to Duval County. They grew vegetables and sold some of them to the local market and gave away thirty percent of the produce to the local food bank and a few churches. During the last two years, the farm had been bleeding money, but Joel and Erin would not change their operation and they were looking for sponsors. When Waylon suggested that Erin talk to Douglas, he didn’t know that his friend was still obsessed with her. After all, Douglas was about to be a father and they both were married. Waylon fell for Douglas’s line abou
t wanting to help the county, wanting to create jobs and help people in Waverly who felt hopeless.

  Still, Douglas was hell-bent on revenge. Waylon wanted to warn Joel, especially since they’d grown so close while he was working on the farm. He knew Douglas had the means to make life hard for the Hughes family. Waylon even knew of the plan Douglas had been working on to purchase the land. But, Douglas paid well, much better than the Hughes family, and Waylon was trying to save enough money to start a life with his girlfriend, Dena Hopkins. She was in law school at North Carolina Central University in Durham and Waylon had plans to help her establish her law firm in Reeseville, because he knew his opinionated and spitfire woman would not be happy working for anyone else. Douglas had agreed to throw some work Dena’s way, even though he didn’t care for Erin’s best friend. In his eyes, Dena had been the cause of their split in high school. Dena had invited Erin to the party where she and Joel had shared their first kiss. Still, for whatever reason, Waylon believed Douglas respected his relationship with Dena—but watching him quasi-stalk Erin and Joel, he had to wonder if he was wrong about that.

  “D, man, don’t you think you should let this thing go? You and Erin have both moved on, and it’s best that you just focus on your business and your family,” Waylon reasonably suggested.

  “If Joel Hughes could take care of his farm and his woman, she wouldn’t have approached me about being a sponsor for that farm and their community outreach. If they’re having money problems, then I have the solution. I’m going to buy that land right out from under Joel.”

  “That’s not going to happen. That place is historic, part of this county’s folklore, and he’ll never sell. Especially not to you. Everyone knows you’re buying property just to level it.”

  “He may not, but I have a meeting with Ryan Hughes next week. If the old man is thinking about selling, I’m going to push him in that direction.” Douglas had a sinister gleam in his slate gray eyes, and Waylon couldn’t help but shiver. He knew Ryan Hughes was dealing with an illness, which was why he’d handed over most of the daily running of the farm to Joel and Erin. The last thing Waylon wanted was to allow Douglas to take advantage of the older man in this state. He had to tell his friend what was going on.

  “D, that’s underhanded and you can’t do that.”

  “The hell I can’t. See, that little boy from Waverly is dead and gone. I’m a grown man and I’m going to get everything that I want. All these people who wrote me off are going to suffer.”

  “What about your growing family? Didn’t you say Ev was pregnant?” Waylon questioned.

  “Yes. Hopefully she will give me a son and then she can be on her way,” Douglas said coldly. “I know that she doesn’t love me and truthfully, I don’t love her at all.”

  “She does love you.”

  “She loves what I represent, and my money. I’m not fooled,” Douglas said. “I know what she’s doing when she’s spending weekends in New York. I can’t even be sure that it’s my child she’s having.” Sighing, he glanced at Joel and Erin again as they embraced tenderly. “That bastard took away the one thing that was most important to me and I’m not going to rest until I do the same to him.”

  Waylon wanted to jump out of the car and warn Joel about Douglas’s scheme, but he sat there and watched his friend stare at Joel and Erin as they got into their car.

  “She should be with me,” Douglas bemoaned. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to have her again.”

  “Do you really think she’s going to want you if you destroy her husband’s life?” Waylon asked.

  Douglas smirked. “If she doesn’t, then she can suffer right along with him.”

  Waylon hopped out of the car, telling Douglas that he had to meet Dena. He knew that he had to warn the Hughes family about what Douglas was planning. If he told Dena, she’d tell Erin and Joel what was going on.

  “I hope you know who butters your bread,” Douglas called after him. “Tell anyone about my plan and I’ll make sure you don’t spend one more day with Dena.”

  Chapter 1

  Crystal Hughes was mad as hell and the person behind this madness would feel her wrath, she decided as she ripped the notice she’d received in the mail to shreds. “Welco!” she muttered. Crossing the vast living room, Crystal grabbed her purse and keys from the coffee table. That company and its mysterious—at least from Crystal’s point of view—owner wanted to own everything in town. Well, Hughes Farm was not for sale.

  What was it that Douglas Wellington III had been quoted saying in the paper last week? If Main Street can’t keep their lights on, why should I have to share my bulbs? How heartless! Crystal knew this man didn’t give a damn about Reeseville. If he did, he’d know that helping, not buying, was the way people made it through rough times in this small town. Crystal wasn’t even sure if old man Wellington even lived in Reeseville. If he did, he wouldn’t want to destroy Hughes Farm. Bastard!

  Dashing out of her plantation-style house, Crystal nearly bowled over two teenagers planting rosebushes near her steps.

  “Miss Crystal, is everything okay?” asked Renda Johnson as Crystal placed her hand on her shoulder.

  “Yes, I’m just in a hurry. What are you and MJ doing?” Crystal forced a smile at Monique and Renda, two sisters who lived in the Starlight House, a group home that sat a stone’s throw from Crystal’s house. No one else in Reeseville wanted the home for wayward girls anywhere near them. People said that the girls would be a danger to their neighborhoods and would lower their property value. But Crystal, who owned more than one hundred acres of land in west Duval County, subscribed to the notion that one good turn deserved another. “To whom much is given, much is required,” Grandmother Hughes would always say. Crystal told the board of county commissioners that Starlight could have as much space as they needed. She treated the girls in Starlight just like the sisters she never had, and in return, they treated her to surprises like planting rosebushes in her yard, raking her lawn, and working in her community garden without any complaints.

  Placing her hands on her hips and smacking a wad of gum, Monique stood up and looked Crystal in the eyes. “Well, it was supposed to be a surprise. But we found those orange rosebushes you were talking about. Why are you up so early?”

  Nervously, Crystal twisted the green jade ring on her index finger. There was no way she could tell these girls about Welco’s plans, plans that would level everything on her property. In their short lives, they’d seen so much disappointment and despair, and Crystal wasn’t going to let evil Welco Industries add to it. She’d grown tired of watching this company buy up Reeseville as if they were playing Monopoly. In the last three years, Welco had purchased much of the land around Reeseville, building small factories that Crystal would bet her farm had been causing the increase in allergies around town. Did Wellington care? No. He simply said that people should take more vitamins.

  But what she was most peeved with Welco about was the supercenter they’d built downtown, which caused the Fresh Food Market to close because they couldn’t compete with the cheap prices of the supercenter. The Fresh Food Market had been the only grocery store in town where local farmers could sell their vegetables and fresh meats. When it closed, some of the smaller farms in Reeseville had suffered. Then Welco came along and bought them.

  “Just some business in town, sweeties,” Crystal replied. “Thank you so much for my surprise, though.”

  Mrs. Brooke Fey, the director and on-sight operator of the house, walked over to Crystal and the girls. “Ms. Hughes, I hope MJ and Renda aren’t bothering you this morning,” she said, surveying the scene in front of her.

  “Oh no. These girls have given me something that I’ve wanted for a long time. Now, I really have to go.” Crystal ran to her car, nearly tripping over her Birkenstock clogs and ankle-length rainbow-colored skirt. She started the car and peeled out of the driveway, leaving two black skid marks on the pavement. This isn’t going to happen. Welco isn’t going to
buy me!

  It wasn’t nine a.m. yet and Douglas Wellington III, president and CEO of Welco Industries, was popping aspirin. His head throbbed like a heartbeat because the board was on his back, his assistant couldn’t find the documents he needed for his ten-thirty presentation—and did she just say a woman was threatening to chain herself to the front door if he didn’t meet with her immediately? This was not happening. Not today.

  “Amy! Amy! I don’t have time to meet with some kook. Call security or something. But what you need to do more than anything else is find my proposal!” he barked into the phone. From his desk, Douglas scrutinized Amy’s small frame as she slumped over her desk. He knew he was too hard on her, but today wasn’t a day for anyone to expect kindness from him. The board of directors was growing impatient about the time it was taking to get the business park project started. Douglas had no idea the owners of Hughes Farm would put up such a fight over that land. From what he understood, the farm wasn’t a working farm with livestock and whatnot. Basically, they grew vegetables. In Douglas’s opinion, there was enough dirt in Reeseville to plant a garden anywhere. It had been his great idea to hold off on any other projects until the business park was built. It wasn’t as if Welco was losing money, but they weren’t making money either. That was a problem Douglas had to fix—especially if he was going to keep Clive Oldsman off his back.

  Twirling a silver ink pen between his fingers, Douglas picked up the phone and dialed Waylon Terrell’s number. Waylon was his father’s best friend and Douglas’s godfather. In business, the only person Douglas trusted other than himself was Waylon. Were it not for his godfather, Douglas wouldn’t be in the position he was in today. On days like this, that wasn’t a good thing. He hadn’t planned to follow in his father’s footsteps. In fact, he’d spent a great deal of his life trying to be everything that Douglas Wellington Jr. was not, even if they were both coldhearted businessmen.

 

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