Deliver Me

by Farrah Rochon

  “Boy, what are you doing here? I though you weren’t coming until later this week?”

  “I decided to surprise Mama,” the other man answered.

  His brother. She should have known just by looking at him. The resemblance was unmistakable. The two disengaged, but Eli kept his arm draped across his brother’s shoulder.

  “And what do we have here?” Eli’s brother asked with a voice as smooth as butter on a warm biscuit.

  “This is Dr. Monica Gardner, the new ER physician at the hospital, and her sister-in-law, Nia. Nia is visiting from St. Louis. Ladies, this is my baby brother, Tobias.”

  “Toby,” his brother provided, extending his hand.

  Oh goodness, another one with a killer smile. Monica didn’t know what to make of these Holmes brothers. There should be a signal that went off to warn any woman who came within ten feet of them.

  “So, you’re the recording mogul?” Nia asked, taking Toby by the hand and entwining her arm with his.

  Toby shrugged. “I wouldn’t say mogul yet, but someone has to be responsible for giving people a reason to shake their butts.”

  “I hear that, honey,” Nia flirted.

  “I should have expected to find you with a beautiful woman on each arm,” Toby said to Eli. “Has my brother been behaving himself?”

  “He’s been the perfect gentleman,” Nia replied.

  “As always,” Eli added.

  Toby shot him a raised eyebrow, “Do you want me to bring up any of the number of stories I can remember of you being anything but a perfect gentleman?”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Eli said. “Why don’t we find a table?”

  “I’ve got one. Come on.”

  Eli took Monica by the arm. Beyond the door revealed another room Monica could only describe as snug. About thirty chairs, all filled with people of various ages and ethnicities, faced a tiny stage. There were more of the blue oil lamps casting shadows on the tables. A sleek, black baby grand piano sat in a corner on the left side of the stage. A drum set was in the opposite corner, with a large base guitar between them.

  “Excuse us.”

  Monica moved to the side as four men, one carrying a trumpet, edged passed them and made their way to the stage.

  “Up here,” Toby said. He guided them up a narrow stairway to an alcove overlooking the main floor.

  “Is this okay?” Eli asked as he pulled out a chair for her. That look was in his eyes again. Monica wasn’t sure how to describe it. Interest? Awareness? Whatever it was, it was tangible.

  “This is perfect,” Monica answered. She tried to ignore the tingle that radiated from the spot where his hand brushed the space between her shoulders.

  “So, how long will you be in town?” Eli asked Toby.

  “I’m not sure.” Toby signaled a waitress. He relayed an order for two Mai Tai’s for the ladies at the table and beers for Eli and himself. “Actually, I’m thinking about moving back to New Orleans permanently,” Toby answered.

  Eli’s brows shot up. Before he could comment, Toby said, “Don’t start, E.”

  Eli put his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not saying anything. I just thought Houston was the spot for finding new talent. I definitely didn’t think you’d be back in New Orleans anytime soon.”

  “Yeah, well, Houston’s only an hour away by plane,” Toby answered.

  “It’ll be good to have you home, brother.” Eli reached across the table to shake his younger brother’s hand. The sincerity in his eyes touched Monica’s soul.

  “Are we supposed to share a cup of flavored coffee now?” Toby joked, lightening the mood once again.

  “Shut up, man. Let’s get to the important stuff. Who is this newly discovered star?”

  “Aria Jordan.”

  “Is she any good?” Eli asked.

  “Would I sign on as her manager if she wasn’t?”

  “I don’t know. Depends on how she looks when she walks out on stage.”

  “She has a range that goes from Toni Braxton’s low alto to Patti Labelle on her best day.”

  “Uh huh, and I’ll bet she has an ass like J. Lo.”

  Toby shook his head. “Excuse my brother, ladies. As you can see, his ungentlemanly qualities tend to come out as the night wears on.”

  “And if my brother is true to his reputation, this new talent,” Eli made quotation marks with his fingers, “will be worthy of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.”

  Before Toby could respond, the emcee walked up to the mike and introduced the night’s performer. A petite, but curvy young woman entered from a door just to the right of the stage. The trumpet player took her by the hand and led her up the three steps to the microphone stand at the center of the stage.

  “I rest my case,” Eli said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands behind his head.

  “I never denied she looked good,” Toby defended, “But that’s not all she has going for her. Just wait.”

  The performer opened her mouth and Monica was stunned by the amazing voice that pelted out a song she’d never heard before. The entire club sat riveted by the sheer beauty of Aria’s soulful signing.

  When the slow, sexy tune was over, Monica had no qualms joining the rest of Snug Harbor’s patrons in a standing ovation.

  “That was amazing,” she said to Toby.

  “Unbelievable,” Nia added.

  They all looked at Eli. She knew it killed him to have to admit he was wrong. “Okay, so she can sing.”

  “No way, man, you gotta do better than that. After all the grief you gave me, you need to eat some serious crow.”

  “Fine. Fine. She’s the bomb, all right?” A repentant Eli was way sexier than Monica could handle with a Mai Tai in her system. “Really, man, you’ve got yourself something special right there. I hope you’re treating her right.”

  “I’m a professional, E.”

  “I’m not talking just professionally.”

  “That’s all there is.”

  “Uh huh,” Eli said.

  Aria Jordan came over to their table and wrapped her arms around Toby’s shoulders, planting a kiss on his cheek.

  That was a little friendlier greeting than most professionals would share. Monica looked over at Eli, who sported a knowing gleam in his eyes.

  “Everybody, this is Aria.” Toby introduced each of them by name and the young woman, who had to be no older than twenty, floated around the table, shaking each of their hands.

  “You have an amazing voice,” Monica told her. “And the song was beautiful.”

  “Thank you, although Toby gets credit for the song.”

  “You wrote that?” Eli stole the words from Monica’s mouth.

  “Yeah, I’ve been writing a little. You know, just playing around. This is the first one to ever be recorded, though.”

  Monica was duly impressed.

  “It was nice meeting all of you,” Aria said. She turned her attention to Toby. There was no mistaking the infatuation in her eyes, though Monica noted it was not reciprocated. “I want to go around to some of the other tables. I’ll catch up with you after the last performance, okay?”

  “Sure, and good job.” He gave her a wink so similar to Eli’s Monica was certain the elder brother had given Toby lessons.

  “Thank you,” she said, bending to give him another kiss. That girl was in love. Monica had seen the same starry-eyed look reflected in the mirror when she had first started dating Patrick and fancied herself in love, too.

  Now why did she have to bring him up?

  She had actually been enjoying herself. Really enjoying herself, for the first time in months. And just like that, her foolish mind had to conjure his image and ruin her good mood.

  No way. She would not let thoughts of Patrick dampen her night.

  “Anybody up for dancing,” Monica asked, surprising herself.

  “Sure,” Nia answered, already rising. “Okay, Eli, let me see what you’ve got.” She grabbed Eli by the
arm and yanked him up.

  Snug Harbor was a little too snug for an actual dance floor but that didn’t stop them. Monica allowed Toby to guide her to the narrow passageway just beyond their table. The old, hardwood floor creaked as the four of them, along with three other couples, tried to maneuver in the small space. A local saxophonist belted out an upbeat tune. Monica had a hard time keeping up with Toby, who may be good looking, but couldn’t dance to save his life.

  “You really need to stick to song writing,” Monica said as he tripped her up again. Toby had about four left feet.

  “Eli’s the dancer in the family. I do better with slow songs,” he said with a good-natured laugh.

  As if on cue, the trumpeter began to play the melody to an old Freddie Jackson song.

  “Let’s switch,” Nia said, reaching for Toby. “That one over there thinks he’s on Soul Train.”

  Monica turned to find Eli standing scant inches from her, his palm upturned, awaiting her hand. She placed it in his and allowed him to pull her closer than she should have. He placed a hand on her waist, settling it on the ride of her hip. The other hand entwined with hers, just above her shoulder.

  Monica closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying desperately to collect her thoughts. When she opened them the sensual fire radiating from Eli’s heated gaze was enough to scorch her.

  “Are you enjoying yourself,” Eli asked, his voice a husky whisper against the backdrop of the song’s sensual melody.

  “Yes,” Monica answered softly.

  “That’s good to hear,” Eli said. “I would hate for you to be bored with me already.”

  “I doubt that would ever happened,” she answered with a shaky laugh. She took another unsteady breath, but the lightheadedness wasn’t going away.

  They swayed to the music, their bodies barely touching. When someone bumped into her back, forcing her breasts into brief contact with Eli’s well-sculpted chest, Monica’s world nearly exploded. The sensation of his defined muscles against her long-ignored breasts made her ache with need. It had been way too long since she’d had a man.

  Monica made the mistake of glancing at Eli again, and the look in his eyes said it all. He was just as affected by the currents of electricity shooting sparks between their bodies.

  Again, the couple dancing next to them bumped into Monica, but this time, she was pushed flush against him, and there was no mistaking the hardness that pressed into her stomach. She yearned to pull him closer. She was mesmerized by the evidence of his desire; empowered that she could elicit such a response from him.

  “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, a mixture of contriteness and yearning in his eyes. “I can’t help it,” Eli whispered against her cheek.

  Don’t be, Monica wanted to say. She couldn’t help her reaction either as her body experienced the closest thing to an orgasm she had ever had in public.

  She should pull away. Remaining in his arms, pressed up close to his body, would only complicate an already complicated situation. But she couldn’t tear herself away from his hold.

  When the song ended, Eli trailed his finger down her bare arm as he escorted her back to the table, the sensation of his touch remaining upon her skin long after he’d let her go.

  Toby called for Eli to follow him downstairs to the stage area so he could introduce him to a few of the band members. As soon as he was out of earshot, Nia slapped the table.

  “All I have to say is good riddance Patrick Dangerfield.”

  “What are you talking about,” Monica said, trying not to watch Eli walk away, but watching all the same.

  “Girl, you may not think you and that man are serious about each other, but from what I just saw, you’re lying to yourself.”

  Monica forced herself to look over at Nia. “Don’t start. I told you this is just a business deal.”

  “Honey, I’ve been in the business world for a few years now, and I have never been hugged up on any of my business partners.” Monica attempted to speak, but Nia cut her off. “You didn’t see the look in your eyes while you were dancing with him, Monica. This isn’t just business for you.”

  A bead of panic threaded through Monica’s bloodstream. Nia was right. She did want him. She didn’t just want him, she burned for him. But was she setting herself up for heartache?

  This was different from what she’d had with Patrick. Although she now realized what she and Patrick felt for each other wasn’t even close to love, Monica had truly believed it was the real thing at the beginning of their relationship.

  But she hadn’t gone into this thing with Eli blind. She knew his stand on dating doctors, his reputation for being a player. Forget the message his body had sent while they were dancing; that what purely physical. Monica knew that desire did not reach his heart. And if she didn’t take control of this situation soon, it was her own heart that would be in danger of being crushed.

  Monica sat at the table in quiet contemplation for nearly the entire hour they remained at the bar, getting up only once to dance with Toby during Aria’s second performance. When they left the club, Monica sat rigidly in the passenger seat, her mind reeling, her confused emotions feeding the headache that had started forming toward the end of the evening.

  “This was so much fun,” Nia said from the backseat. “Your brother is a piece of work.”

  “Yeah, Toby knows how to have a good time,” Eli answered.

  Monica didn’t join in their conversation. Instead, she spent the drive home reacquainting herself with her common sense, and all the reasons she could not allow this attraction to consume her. Elijah Holmes was a means to an end. Period. She would not lose sight of her ultimate goal.

  Yet, Monica was unbearably conscious of every time Eli’s sultry gaze fell upon her from his place behind the wheel.

  They arrived at her apartment building, and like the perfect gentleman, Eli again, opened the door for both her and for Nia. Monica clutched his proffered hand tightly, grateful for the support.

  “I’ll walk the two of you upstairs,” he offered. He placed his hand at the small of her back as he followed them upstairs. She had been trying to steel herself against the effects of his heated stares and velvety soft words, but that one touch was enough to make her faint.

  “I’m getting too old for this,” Nia said. “It’s just after midnight and I’m about to drop. That was a joke,” she said after neither Monica nor Eli responded to her quip.

  Nia looked back, giving them both a curious look.

  Monica shot her a wan smile, but she could tell by the slight upward curve of Nia’s mouth that her best friend had correctly read the situation.

  They arrived at her front door. Monica could have kicked herself for not getting the key out sooner. She searched through her black clutch and came up with the key.

  Nia grabbed it out of her hand and quickly opened the door. “I’ll be in the shower,” she said, closing the door behind her and leaving Monica and Eli in the hallway.

  Monica turned to face Eli. “Thanks for putting up with us,” she said softly.

  She could tell by the look in his eyes he was nowhere near ready to leave. Monica could not deal with this tonight. Her scattered brain was still too fraught with the dozens of conflicting emotions that had plagued her since the second she chose to take him up on that ill-fated plan. Of all the colossal mistakes and bad judgment calls she had ever made—and she’d made aplenty—Monica had a feeling this pretend dating scheme was at the top of the list.

  Because she did not want it to be pretend anymore.

  Her mind fought against the revelation. She knew better than to let her heart get involved. It had let her down too many times before. Yet just thinking about how it had felt to be pressed against his decadent body had her heart turning over within her chest.

  But she would not allow it to be broken again.

  “Is that all you’re going to say?” Eli asked, his deep voice reverberating off the walls of her brain.

  Monica decided to play t
he whole thing off as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. He’d said he wasn’t looking for a relationship either. Maybe pretending that her reaction tonight was just a part of the charade was the way to get this situation back on a platonic plane.

  Monica shrugged. “It was a fun night.”

  “That’s all it was, a fun night?”

  “What else do you want me to say, Dr. Holmes?”

  “Don’t start with the Dr. Holmes again, Monica.”

  She stretched her hands out in front of her, putting on her best bewildered act. “What do you expect me to say?” she asked again.

  Eli crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “We can’t deny what happened tonight,” he stated bluntly.

  “Nothing happened,” Monica replied. She turned, intending to go into her apartment, but Eli cut around, placing himself between Monica and the door.

  “Are you saying you didn’t feel anything while we were dancing?”

  “Except for the obvious, you mean?”

  His expression hardened. “It was a natural reaction, brought on by something I know you felt, too.” He stared at her, his brown eyes piercing. He stepped in close, his body encasing her. Monica felt her back pressing into the door with each staggered breath she took. “I saw the way you looked at me. I felt the way you looked at me,” he whispered with fierce intensity. “Do you expect me to believe you didn’t feel that, too?”

  Monica shuddered, even as her blood began to simmer at the passion flowing off his body in waves. “Eli, please, I can’t handle this right now. Just go home.”

  “I didn’t expect this either, Monica.” His voice dropped to a gentle tone that was nearly her undoing.

  “Eli, please,” she pleaded. If he didn’t leave right now she was going to lose it.

  Everything in his stare said he didn’t want to go, but after a moment he stepped back. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at noon.”

  “I thought you said two o’clock.”

  “That’s what time we’ll get to Mama’s, but you and I need to talk.” Without another word, he turned and headed down the hall.