by Donna Hill
She lowered her eyes, realizing that he was edging very close to the truth. There was no way she could tell him about what she felt when she was with Matt, the things that went through her head, the memories, the feelings. She couldn’t tell him because she was so unsure of it all herself.
“Would you?” he probed.
Her gaze jerked up. “Of course I would…but there’s nothing to tell.”
He came to stand in front of her and squatted down until they were at eye level. He stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger. “I don’t believe you, baby. And I don’t think you believe it, either.”
She drew in a sharp breath of alarm. “Ron—”
He put his finger to her lips. “Shh,” he said gently. “Listen to me. I want you to take the time you need to deal with Matt. I need you to take that time, Ell, ’cause I gotta know that, when you’re with me, you’re with me. I don’t ever want you to wonder. Ya know?”
Her throat tightened until it hurt. Her eyes burned. He was telling her to go? Telling her to be with another man? Her gaze followed him in disbelief as he stood.
“Besides, with this cloud hanging over me, I don’t need them checking any further because of my relationship with you.” He pushed out a breath. “That’s the way I see it, Ell. Best thing.”
“So…it’s over? Is that what you’re telling me?”
His throat worked up and down for a moment. He glanced away then looked at her. “Yeah,” he swallowed, “that’s what I’m telling you.”
Elizabeth felt like fine crystal that had just been dropped onto concrete, splintering into a million ragged pieces. But, if she was in a million pieces, she’d have to gather as much of herself and her dignity as she could and leave. Leave without falling apart further. Leave without him touching her and saying he was sorry he’d dropped her. Oh, God. Oh, God.
She blinked several times and blindly reached for her purse. Pushing herself to her feet, she drew in as much air as she could and walked to the door.
“Ell…”
Elizabeth turned the knob. If she looked at him, she knew she would fall apart. She opened the door and walked out.
Chapter 13
“Wonder where Ellie is,” Barbara was saying to the “girlz” as she checked the clock.
“Yeah, I’m usually the last one to arrive,” Stephanie said.
“Did she call?” Ann Marie asked.
“No, but she did say she needed to see Ron before she came here. So…” Her sentence hung in the air.
They all knew little bits and pieces about what was going on with Elizabeth’s ex-husband, the issues surrounding Ron and how it was all twisted up together.
“Hey, maybe they kissed, made up and forgot all about us,” Terri offered.
“I like the sound of that,” Barbara said, “even if we will miss her being here.”
Ann Marie brought out the chafing dish with the barbecue chicken and put it on the serving table next to the seasoned rice, green beans and potato salad.
“Sorry I didn’t get to do too much,” Barbara said, apologizing for the meager spread. Generally, at their get-togethers, they had two choices of meats, and a fish, two vegetables and a salad and at least two starches. Not to mention dessert.
“Barbara, please,” Stephanie said, “there’s plenty. We usually have too much.” She put on a pretty pout. “So what, if there won’t be any for me to take home.”
The ladies laughed. Stephanie was notorious for her bad or rather nonexistent cooking. She was the main one who loaded up the Tupperware after one of their soirees.
“Try to save the poor chile’ some leftovers,” Ann Marie crowed. “We don’t want that little baby she’s carrying to starve.”
“Yeah, Steph,” Barbara said, dropping a spoonful of green beans on her plate. “You’re really going to have to buckle down on your cooking skills. You can’t eat out every night. It’s not good for the baby.”
Stephanie wrinkled her nose. “Tony is a great cook. I’d eat his cooking any day. Which I generally do.” She chuckled.
“Hey, Steph, maybe me and you can take a cooking class,” Terri said. “I can’t cook worth a damn, either.”
“If I must,” Stephanie said with a dramatic sigh, and flopped onto the chair.
The doorbell rang. “That must be Ellie,” Barbara said, heading to the door.
The instant Barbara pulled the door open, she knew something was wrong.
“Sorry I’m late,” Elizabeth murmured, and walked inside, her gaze never making contact with Barbara.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Barbara closed the door and followed her inside.
The light banter stopped when Elizabeth walked into the room. All eyes zeroed in on her.
She barely spoke but went over to the serving table and began filling her plate. They all looked at each other with wide-eyed concern. And then they heard her soft sobs.
Barbara was the first one at her side. “Ellie, what is it?” she asked, and put her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders.
“It’s over,” she said on a ragged breath. She wiped her eyes with a napkin.
“What’s over? What are you talking about?”
“Me and Ron. It’s over.”
Barbara took the plate from Elizabeth’s shaky hands. “Come and sit down.” She guided her over to the couch and all her friends gathered around.
“What happened?” Stephanie asked.
“He said it’s best that we ‘take some time’ until everything is settled with Matt.”
They all knew what “take some time” meant—they’d all been there and done that.
Murmurs of understanding fluttered in the air.
“Why would he tell you something like that out of the blue?” Terri asked, not privy to all the details.
Elizabeth sniffed and wiped her eyes. “He thinks I’m still in love with my ex-husband.”
“Oh…”
“Well, are you?” Ann Marie asked, always direct and to the point.
“That’s just it, I don’t know. I thought it was all over between us, you know? The divorce was final. I’d moved on and he’d moved on and then…” She told them all of the events of the past few days, Matt’s diagnosis, the note that Ron found in her kitchen, everything leading up to Ron’s declaration.
“Well, did you tell him it wasn’t true?” Ann Marie asked.
“Not really.”
Ann Marie huffed. “Well, what da ’ell ya think was going to ’appen?” she blasted, getting agitated. As usual, her accent was more pronounced when she became excited or upset.
“Men can’t read between no lines, girl! Ya got to talk to dem straight or they get confused.”
The ladies didn’t want to laugh, but they knew exactly what Ann Marie meant.
“Are you still in love with Matt?” Stephanie asked gently.
“I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know if it’s love, if it’s concern, fear for him or just a lot of old feelings that I never dealt with.”
“Well, you need to deal with it, Ellie,” Barbara said, “for yourself and everyone concerned.”
“Sometimes, after the dust settles, the past doesn’t look so bad, anymore,” Stephanie said, “and we forget what made us leave in the first place.”
Elizabeth’s gaze connected with Stephanie’s. That much was true, she thought. Matt’s abandonment no longer hurt as much as it did. And, over time, although she knew that Matt betrayed her in the worst possible way, she’d begun to remember the good times between them, all the years they’d lived, loved and worked together. Had Matt not been so adamant about leaving her and their marriage, she knew she would have tried to work through it. But it didn’t happen that way. She was a divorced woman—a divorced women with doubts.
“I don’t know what to do,” she finally said.
“Maybe, as hard as it is, you should take Ron’s advice and take some time, Ellie,” Terri said. “’Cause it really sounds like you are uncertain. You have too many emotions and
misgivings going on right now to make a clear decision about anything.”
“One of the few things I remember my mama telling me as a girl was, if you have two choices, line them up side by side, da good and da bad, and be honest,” Ann Marie said. “After you make your list of good and bad for each, you’ll see which one is best for you.”
Elizabeth offered a crooked grin. “What if they come out equal?”
“Den, ya got yourself in one helluva jam.”
Ron walked into the dimly lit bar on Amsterdam and 122nd Street. The raucous laughter from the clientele greeted him at the door. Boos and cheers were directed at the huge television screens around the space. It was just what he needed. After Ellie’d left, he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts so he’d called Ali and asked if he wanted to hang out for a while. Ali had agreed. They decided to meet at the local sports bar and restaurant to watch the Knicks game.
He peered inside and spotted Ali at a table in the back. He wound his way around the circular and rectangle tables until he reached him.
“Hey, man,” Ali greeted, “you look like you just got your teeth kicked in.”
Ron lowered himself onto the hard wooden seat. “Feel like it.”
The waitress approached. “What can I get you?”
Ron looked up. “Beer for me.”
“Same,” Ali said.
“Thought you didn’t drink.”
“I don’t. But the shape you’re in I don’t want you drinking alone.” He chuckled good naturedly. He lifted his chin toward the television. “Knicks losing again,” he groused, and shook his head.
“What else is new?”
They watched the game until their drinks arrived.
Ali raised his mug. “To things getting a helluva lot better and quick.”
Ron raised his mug. “Got that right.”
They took long swallows.
“So, you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“Broke up with Ellie.”
“Not over this investigation bs?”
He shook his head. “That was part of it, but it’s really about her husband.”
“Husband?” His thick brows rose in alarm. “I thought she was divorced.”
“She is.”
“Oh.” He let out a breath of relief. “Scared me there for a minute. But I still don’t get it.”
Ron explained the events that had transpired and how he felt that Elizabeth wasn’t being straight with him or herself. “So I let her go.”
Ali leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Man, are you crazy?”
“Huh?”
“Deaf, too? You don’t turn your woman over to another man. Those ain’t the rules.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “Man, love is like…the Knicks.”
“What?”
“This is the way I see it: The Knicks are a good team. They fight hard all the way through the game until the fourth quarter thinking they got the game in the bag. Then they let their guard down and, little by little, the opponent whittles away all the points until the last two minutes of the game. Now it’s a struggle. They have to use all their best plays if they want to win. Down by two, with less than ten seconds to go. Coach says to go with their best three-point man. Game is in his hands.” He paused and looked directly in Ron’s eyes. “You’re the three-point man. Either you’re gonna go for it and win the game, or you’re gonna shoot and miss.” He tossed up his hands. “It’s on you.”
“Sounds real simple.”
“It is. You’re up against a team with a lot of years of experience.” His mouth inched into a half smile.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I am.” He finished off his beer. “Watch the game, brotha, and you’ll see for yourself.”
Several hours and a few beers later, Ron put the key into the door of his apartment. Something wasn’t right. He felt it the instant he stepped inside. Quietly, he shut the door and eased inside.
There was a light coming from beneath the door of his bedroom. He took the bat he kept behind the door. If anything was to go down it wouldn’t be easy. He approached his bedroom and pushed the door open, the bat gripped tightly in his fist.
“Ellie! What the hell…”
“I finally decided to use my key.”
Chapter 14
Ron slowly approached her. “You could have gotten yourself hurt,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
“Not as much as if I didn’t come.”
“What are you telling me?”
She stood and walked up to him. “I’m telling you that I’m in love with you, Ron Powers. Without doubt, without question. What I want to know is, do you feel the same way about me?”
His gaze slowly moved across her face. Go for the point, or freeze. “You know I do.”
She reached up and caressed his cheek. “Then, we can work anything out. Anything.”
“What about Matt?”
She breathed heavily. “I’m going to be honest with you. I care about Matt. That much, I do know. I also know that he’s going through a really tough time now and he is depending on me to see him through it.” She turned away and walked to the other side of the room and sat in the chair next to the bed. “And I will. I want you to know that.” She slowly shook her head. “But nothing more than that. I know the kind of person I am, the kind of person you fell in love with. I couldn’t live with myself if I turned my back on him. Not now. And I’m hoping that you will understand and accept that.”
Ron’s jaw clenched. He nodded his head. “All right,” he finally said, “but no more secrets, Ell. No more sneaking around. If we are going to get through this we gotta be up front.”
“I know. That was my mistake. My mistake in not trusting you enough to believe that you would understand.”
He leaned against the dresser. “I guess those male hormones kicked in. I’ve been jealous as hell.”
She smiled softly. “You have nothing to be jealous of. I promise you that.”
His expression turned serious. “But we still have the investigation to deal with. Your association with me—”
She got up. “I talked to Barbara, Ann, Stephanie and Terri about it. We can handle it. You’ve done nothing wrong and neither have we.”
“Are you sure?”
She walked closer. “Positive,” she whispered.
“Come here.”
She stepped into his embrace, pressing her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. He stroked her hair and let his hands travel down her spin.
He really loved her, he thought. Loved her enough to let her go if need be; whatever it took to make her happy. He never thought he would feel that way about a woman. But he did.
He lowered his head and kissed her softly. She laced her fingers behind his head and pulled him deeply into the kiss. She felt his heart pound against her chest.
Ron reluctantly leaned back. “I’m going to get into the shower. I’ve been in these dusty clothes and body all day.”
“Want some company?” she asked coyly.
His eyes darkened. “Absolutely.”
She followed him into the small bathroom and while he adjusted the temperature for the shower, she got undressed. When he turned around, she was just stepping out of her thong. She stood, and the heat from his eyes made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
His gaze ran up and down her body. “You’re so beautiful,” he said in awe, as if seeing her for the first time. He took the short step over to her and let his finger trail along her delicate collarbone. Elizabeth’s body shuddered. His hand wandered down to the swell of her left breast, his thumb teased her nipple until it rose and hardened. He lowered his head and took it into his mouth.
Elizabeth moaned in delight. Her eyes drifted closed. She held his head to her, wanting him to take more, and he did. His hands cupped her waist as he suckled her, the act turning him on as much as it did her.
She needed to feel him, to press her body fully against his. She lifted his head from her breast and took his mouth, her tongue darting into his.
Ron pulled her tight against him, her naked body flush against the roughness of his T-shirt and jeans, the friction of the fabrics on her bare skin made her tingle with longing.
She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugged it over his head, practically ripping it in the process. Ron tossed it to the floor and took her mouth again as he undid his pants. Elizabeth pushed his hands away. He was taking too long. She unfastened him, pushed his jeans down over his hips and his erection pushed through his shorts. She didn’t bother with them. She took him in her hand and stroked him.
His groans filled the room. He leaned back against the sink as her silky fingers traveled up and down the length of him. He gritted his teeth, holding back. He desperately needed her. Her finger brushed across the tender head and he swore he would explode right in her hand. But then he shot right to heaven when her mouth enveloped him.
“Ah, Ell…”
The room filled with steam.
She took him slow and easy, mimicking with her mouth what her hands had done. It was an awesome sense of power she experienced. Every muscle, every vein that jerked and pulsed she could feel. It was incredible.
“Ell,” he groaned. He pulled at her head. “Ell…enough…you gotta stop, baby…”
Her eyes rolled up to look at him and what she saw was pure bliss. He looked down at her, a slow wicked grin, the kind that should only be seen after dark, moved across his mouth. “You are a very, very bad girl.”
“Being bad feels so good,” she cooed.
He pulled her up to him and, in one smooth motion, turned her around, her back to him. He bent her forward to lean on the sink.
“I want you,” he hissed in her ear. “You do understand that,” he said, and pushed up inside her.
“Ooh, yes,” she cried out.
He arched his body back and held her hips in a death grip as he pumped in and out of her, slow and long and hard. She was so hot inside, so wet, so tight. It was as if he’d stepped outside of himself, the experience so intense he felt delirious with feeling—everywhere.