A Serving of Forever

by Kane, Jessa

  He leaves the room in a sea of hisses, glancing back at me three times before disappearing into the kitchen.

  “All right, we don’t have much time.” Melissa claps her hands. “Quinn, are you and my brother together together? Give us the scoop.”

  Steph hustles me over to the couch, pulling me down to the cushions. Before I know it, I’m the meat in a sister sandwich. “Yeah, give up the goods,” Steph squeals. “He hasn’t dated anyone seriously in…”

  “Never,” Melissa finishes. “He’s never dated anyone seriously.”

  “Oh, I just met him this morning,” I say, waving a hand. “There’s nothing…I mean, it’s way too soon to, um…”

  They stare at me expectantly, not saying a word.

  It’s a tactic.

  I know it is.

  They’re staying silent so I’ll feel obligated to continue, thus revealing more information. My mother employs this method on me all the time and I really should know better. But I don’t have close girlfriends, only colleagues, thanks to my mother’s impossibly high standards for the people I associate with. And it’s really nice being part of this little girl chat, even if it’s only a temporary thing. I find myself wanting to confide in them, whether it’s wise or not…and they still haven’t said a word, the silence trick prickling under my skin and urging me to fill the conversation void. Darn it, they have me. “It’s only meant to be one lesson,” I blurt.

  They sit up straighter. “A lesson?”

  “Yes. Your brother is merely being kind. I told him I have a confidence problem a-and that I know nothing about men and sex. He’s helping me understand.”

  Melissa and Steph stare at one another in disbelief. “He’s helping you understand?” Steph squeaks.

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “And you…” Melissa grabs my arm. “You think he’s doing this to be kind?”

  “Yes, isn’t that nice?” I say, smiling brightly.

  Silence descends on the room.

  Both sisters burst into laughter.

  My nose wrinkles. “What?”

  Steph picks up an imaginary phone and presses it to her ear. “Hold my calls. Reschedule my appointments. Something has come up.”

  Desmond chooses that moment to walk back into the room, a thunderous frown on his face, three mugs of coffee in his hands. “What’s going on? What did they say to you?”

  “Um…”

  “Des. Bro.” Melissa stands and takes the coffee mugs from her brother, setting them down on the coffee table one by one. “We’re here to help. We know all about the lesson you promised Quinn.”

  He makes a choked sound. “You do?”

  I mouth the word sorry at him.

  “Yes. Our Quinn here wants to be more confident when it comes to men, right?” Steph says. “Well since three heads are better than one, we decided to help.”

  Melissa smiles. “You’re welcome.”

  Desmond is shaking is head. “I don’t want your help. No one wants your help.”

  “Too bad.” Both sisters throw their arms up in the air. “Makeover time!”

  “She doesn’t need a makeover,” he snaps. “She’s perfect.”

  Steph is about to say something, but falters at her brother’s words. Until Melissa elbows her hard in the ribs and she recovers. “O-of course, she’s already beautiful. But she’s not dressed for the club.”

  Melissa studies her nails. “Yeah, we’re just going to dress her up for a little club action.”

  “No better place to learn about men than a club!” Steph whispers at me, out of the corner of her mouth. “We should have you ready to go in an hour.”

  “Like hell you will,” Desmond roars.

  “Oh no?” Melissa tilts her head. “Why not?”

  “Yeah, bro. Why not?”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but catches himself and closes it again. His eyes are trained on me, but I can’t figure out what’s going on in his head. Obviously he doesn’t love the idea of me going to the club with his sisters, but why? Maybe he does have feelings for me, but they’re not strong enough for him to make a big declaration in front of his family. I mean, expecting such a thing would be crazy when we only met this morning, right?

  Why does my chest feel hollow the longer he stays quiet?

  “I want to go,” I say in rush, hoping to let Desmond off the hook. “It sounds fun.”

  Actually, it sounds like a nightmare, but I don’t want to be rude.

  “You want to go?” Desmond asks, sounding like there’s a pine cone lodged in his throat.

  I hum in the affirmative, earning smiles from Steph and Melissa.

  Desmond’s head drops forward momentarily. “Fine, but I’m coming, too.” His swallow is audible as he splits a hard look between his sisters. He says something to them, but he’s speaking so quietly, I can barely make out his words. Something like, “Please, don’t ruin this.”

  Another awkward silence grips the room and I can’t stand being the cause of it anymore. I shoot to my feet. “I’m all yours. Make me over.”

  7

  Desmond

  This is my worst nightmare.

  If I didn’t love my sisters, despite their penchant for mayhem, I would have already thrown them out of the house. I just want to be alone with Quinn. I want to lay Quinn down in my bed and kiss her until I know every tiny nuance of her mouth. I just want to wrap myself in her smiles and her light scent and make her laugh.

  With a groan, I bury my head in my hands.

  I’m situated in a chair in the hallway outside my guest room, where my sisters have taken Quinn, and I’m waiting for them to come out. They’ve been in there way too long. It might warm my heart every time I hear the three of them laughing together, but I can’t really enjoy the fact that the woman I love is bonding with my sisters, because I’m terrified of the night to come. A club? A fucking club?

  Every man in the place is going to want what’s mine.

  The worst part is, she wants to go.

  Maybe the lesson she wanted from me is already over. Maybe she’s already realized she’s a gift from heaven and no longer needs me. If I just had some more time alone with Quinn, I might be able to convince her to give me a chance, but tonight is slipping through my fingers.

  God help me, I won’t be responsible for my actions if a man hits on Quinn in this club. I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle other men even looking at her. Christ, if I murder someone tonight, it’s going to be on my sister’s heads.

  I really need to change the locks on my front door so they never barge in on me and Quinn again. If there’s even a next time.

  What if there isn’t?

  I stand up and start to pace, calling on my fire training to stay calm. It doesn’t work. I’d rather battle a five alarm fire than bring Quinn to some meat market.

  The door opens and I skid to a halt, turning to watch my sisters emerge.

  “You ready, bro?”

  “No.” I plow my fingers through my hair. “Yes.”

  Quinn walks out and my equilibrium wanes. My vision blurs and I shake my head to clear it. She’s not a mirage. She’s still there. In a short, white tube dress, sky-high heels, her mouth painted red. No way. No…way. How did they make the most gorgeous woman in the world even more gorgeous? I mean, I prefer her in white panties and no makeup, but Jesus Christ, like this, she will knock people over from a mile away. It’s not fair to other women. It wouldn’t be fair to a goddess. Fuck, her ass looks so tight and juicy in that dress. If I keep staring at it, I’m going to get an erection in front of my sisters and nobody wants that.

  “Well, Des?” Steph prompts me. “What do you think?”

  When she cuts me a timid look, I have no choice but to answer honestly. “I think she’s too beautiful for this world.”

  It takes me a moment to realize my sisters are dead silent for once.

  They might even look a little regretful over the torture they’re putting me through.

&n
bsp; Melissa clears her throat. “All right, let’s go get crazy at the club.”

  I spoke too soon.

  A few minutes later, we’re on the road. My sisters are in the backseat, loudly telling me when to turn, even though I drive a fire truck down these streets and know Queens like the back of my hand. Quinn is in the passenger seat to my right, her sexy legs crossed in such a way that I can tell they convinced her to go commando.

  God, is this what I put my sisters through?

  I never tried to dangle their boyfriends like meat in front of other women or anything. My approach was more of the have-them-home-before-ten-or-I’ll-rip-out-your-spleen variety. But I’m starting to wonder if I deserve to have this revenge dropped on me like a hundred-ton asteroid. Still, I wish they’d taught me a lesson sooner so I could be alone with Quinn right now. We’d be on our third or fourth round of lovemaking and I’d be laying the groundwork for a relationship. The forever kind.

  The timing of this is awful. If I lose the woman I want to marry over it, I’ll never recover.

  We arrive at the club and there’s a line out on the sidewalk. I park across the street and skirt around the hood to help Quinn out of the passenger side. When she stumbles a little in her heels and falls against my chest, she thanks me so sweetly, I almost blurt out my feelings, right then and there. But I have no idea what her reaction will be. She wants to be at this club. Hell, she asked me to prepare her for a future of dating other men. Taking it slow was my plan, but now the rug has been pulled out from under my feet.

  “Stay close to me, okay?” I mutter, warming up her arms in my hands.

  Quinn seems like there’s something on her mind, but she bites her lip and nods. She lets me hold her hand as we cross the street, my sisters bounding in front of us to go speak with the bouncer. They claim he’s letting us skip the line because he knows them from high school, but I see the way his eyes widen when he gets a load of Quinn—and I know that’s the real reason we don’t have to wait in line.

  On the way through the door, I bare my teeth at the bouncer and his gaze zips up to the sky. Jesus, we’re not even in the club yet and she’s being coveted.

  Already possessiveness is making my blood sizzle and pop, my hand tightening around Quinn’s and pulling her into the protective nook of my arm.

  It doesn’t stop men from checking her out as we pass and I growl at them over her head, ready to invite them outside to formally meet my fists.

  Jesus. I’m not going to last five minutes.

  * * *

  Quinn

  Desmond hustles me into a table in the corner, shielding me from the rest of the club with his big body, that flexed line of his jaw ready to snap.

  What is the matter with him?

  I’m having fun. So far, anyway. I love Desmond’s sisters, as mischievous as they are. The night would be complete is Desmond would dance with me, but he seems too preoccupied with scrutinizing everyone else in the club.

  From the other side of the table, Steph and Melissa roll their eyes at his behavior, Melissa reaching out to squeeze my elbow. “Come on, let’s go dance.” They glance pointedly at their brother. “Unless someone wants to ask you…?”

  Desmond doesn’t hear his sister over the volume of his own growl, which he is directing at a group of men at a nearby table. What has gotten into him?

  I shrug at Steph and Melissa. “Okay, let’s go dance.”

  “Wait,” Desmond barks over the music. “You’re going to dance?”

  “Yes. She is.”

  “Sweetheart…” Desmond says, sounding tortured.

  Steph drags me away before and I can answer and next thing I know, we’re on the nearby dance floor—and that’s when I remember, I don’t know how to dance.

  “Oh shoot,” I mutter, my arms automatically folding across my middle.

  “What?” Melissa asks. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t dance.”

  Steph doubles over laughing. “You’re only telling us now?”

  “I was caught up in the excitement,” I explain, biting my lip.

  The sisters trade a resigned look.

  “Dammit, Quinn, you had to be so likeable?”

  My brows draw together. “I don’t understand.”

  Steph has to talk loudly to be heard over the increasing volume of the music. “We thought it would be funny to make Desmond’s life hell, since he’s done it to us so many times.”

  “Yeah, we wanted to watch him turn green with jealousy over you, but, yeah…” She looks at something in the distance over my shoulder. “We’re a little worried we’re breaking his heart instead.”

  I turn to see what she’s looking at and find Desmond at the edge of the dance floor, his anxious gaze zeroed in on me like a secret service bodyguard. Once again, I face Steph and Melissa. “I don’t understand. What would break his heart?”

  “You, Quinn.” Melissa sounds exasperated. “Dancing or talking to another man.”

  “I don’t want to dance or talk to another man,” I blurt. “But if Desmond wants something serious with me, he hasn’t said so.”

  “Quinn.” Steph shakes me. “Do you know how many women my brother has given sex lessons to? None. That kind of thing only exists in romance novels. It’s all a cover. We knew the second we saw you two together that he was a goner for you, girl.”

  My heart takes flight up into my mouth. “Are you sure?”

  “Are we sure?” Steph elbow her sister. “She wants to know if we’re sure.”

  “Why wouldn’t he just tell me…”

  My question trails off when I realize I already know the answer. It comes back to me in the form of our conversation inside the bodega over coffees.

  “You want a lesson from me so you can ask out other men?”

  “M-men…” I stuttered, considering his question. “Well, sure, I think that would be one advantage, don’t you? Being more assertive.”

  I’m the one who asked Desmond for lessons in confidence and sexiness.

  Only now can I remember how he deflated when I confirmed he would be teaching me to be sexy so I could lure other men. My God, why did I say that? Does he really still think I’m just angling for a sensual education so I can use it on someone else?

  My fingers cover my mouth. Otherwise, I’m certain my heart will fly out and land on the floor. I have to go tell Desmond the truth. Right this very second.

  I have to confess that I love him.

  And I will. I now have the confidence to say it without fear.

  “Go,” Melissa says, smiling.

  Needing no further invitation, I spin on a toe and go toward Desmond where he is still standing on the edge of the dance floor. Before I can reach him, though, another man steps into my path, blocking the man I love from view.

  “Hey cutie. Let’s dance.”

  8

  Desmond

  A man steps into Quinn’s path and my life flashes in front of my eyes.

  Seriously, I relive the moment I was born, right up to an hour ago when she walked out of the guest room, more beautiful than a woman has the right to be. The ground turns to rubber under my feet and a horn blares in my head.

  Nope. Hell no.

  Mine.

  That girl is mine.

  I don’t even remember moving. One second, I’m on the outskirts of the dance floor, the next, I have my hand wrapped around some fucker’s neck, lifting him off the ground.

  “It’s not happening,” I rasp through clenched teeth. “She’s taken.”

  He’s waving his arms, but no words are coming out of his mouth. Possibly because my fist is cutting off oxygen to his windpipe.

  “Desmond!” Quinn cries, her cool hand slipping under my shirt and racing up my chest. There is murder pumping in my blood, but her touch cuts a path through my rage and surrounding sounds drift back to my ears, along with Quinn’s pretty voice. “Please, don’t. I was coming to you. I need you.” She fists my shirt right above my heart and tugs. “Let
him go, please?”

  With a grunt, I toss him down, watching him scrabble away and vanish into the gaping crowd. “I don’t want you here, Quinn,” I bellow. “I want you home in my bed.”

  She comes to stand directly in front of me, cupping the sides of my face. “That’s where I would be if I wasn’t such a dufus.”

  “You…what?” Lines form between his eyes, the rage slowly fading there. “You could never be a dufus, sweetheart.”

  “This time I could.” Tears form in my eyes. “I didn’t mean it, when I implied I wanted a lesson from you so I could ask out other men. I was lying. It was always about you. I just didn’t know how tell you that…I felt safe and warm with you, Desmond. And I didn’t want our time together to end so fast. Yes, I wanted to be more confident, but it was only you who made me feel that way from the beginning and—”

  Desmond’s mouth stamps down over mine, winding our tongues in a long, possessive kiss. His hands trace over the slopes of my shoulders, down my ribcage and settling on my hips, all this while his mouth devours mine with a low moan. I reach up and cross my wrists behind his head, gasping when he yanks me up onto my toes. “Quinn?” he says hoarsely, his harsh breaths pelting my mouth.

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve wanted to marry you since this morning.”

  I laugh tearfully, my chest squeezing. “You have?”

  “Yes.” He pulls me tight to his body, his chest rising and falling with unsteady shudders. “Quinn?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m in love with you. I’m so fucking in love with you.”

  “I’m in love with you, too,” I whisper into his neck, meaning it with my whole heart.

  “Oh thank Christ,” he says on an exhale. A beat passes before he continues. “I’ve never been like this. Felt like this. I don’t know how to handle what you do to me, sweetheart. I’m going to be protective and possessive…and fuck it, I might stalk you. I don’t know how I’m going to let you out the door for work every morning. I’m already stressed about it.”