by Pamela Yaye
“Knowing how you taste...”
Tielle could’ve melted back into the wall when his lips, teeth and tongue performed a triple assault on her earlobe. “Why’d you let me walk away if...” The rest moaned into silence.
“This,” he whispered amid his devastating feasting on her lobe, “was never our problem. But you’re right, I let you walk away—that’s all on me.” His thumb outlined a slow circle around her nipple.
“Grae—”
“Let me take the blame for this, Tel. Let me remind myself what I have to do to fix this...” He slid his hand inside her bodice then, scooping out the breast and continuing the molestation of its nipple.
“Just understand that you’re going to have to tell me not to touch you—not to taste you. Otherwise you’ll damn well find yourself having sex with me while almost my entire family is in some part of this house.”
He ceased the suckling at her lobe and fondling the breast he let remain outside the confines of her dress. Opening the door, he retreated a few steps and left her alone in the closet.
Tielle waited until she heard the room door close behind him. She made it as far as the chair in the center of the closet. Collapsing there, she waited for her emotions and everything else to settle.
* * *
Tielle finally accepted the fact that nothing she would choose for that evening’s welcome dinner would keep her ex-husband’s uncles on their best behavior. In truth, her concern wasn’t for the gregarious group. Her concern was actually for her ex-husband. Grae had all but told her she’d be wise not to let herself be caught alone with him. That piece of advice, however, didn’t pertain to the show of support Grae had requested she give in the presence of his family.
At that moment, Tielle was caught up in a...philosophical conversation with an older set of gentlemen. The discussion revolved around the logic of May-December romances.
“Younger cats are just too stupid to appreciate good things like you when they’re bouncin’ around right before their eyes.”
Tielle laughed at Russell Clegg’s point of view. “Mr. Russ, why is it that I don’t get mad at you the way I did at Grae when he said I bounce around?”
“Well, Ti—” Russell shrugged, scratching at the top of his curly salt-and-pepper Afro “—you see, us older guys also have more style in our delivery.”
The small crowd burst into hearty laughter that quieted when Grae joined the group. His hands went immediately to Tielle’s hips. Smoothly, he cupped them, drawing her back until she was secure against him. Tielle caught the approving looks passing between the “older guys,” but masked the sigh that begged for release.
“Grae?” She gave a pat to one of the cupping hands. “Could I talk to you for a second?”
The group had gathered in the living room, so Tielle led him into a parlor just off from the main den. Inside the small room, elegantly styled with an Oriental flavor that was depicted in the furnishings, throw rugs and art, she put a bit of distance between them.
“Grae, you can’t do that,” she said when he shut the door.
“Elaborate.” He followed the movement of her hands across her hips accentuated by the pearl-gray material of the quarter-sleeved dress she’d chosen for the evening.
“I agreed to stand by you when the time comes for you to handle whatever you need to with your family, but all the rest—acting like we’re still a couple—it’s confusing...for everyone.” Especially me, she tacked on silently, blinking rapidly to quell the sudden pressure behind her eyes. Privately, it was all confusing enough. In public, it was way too much.
Grae acknowledged her point with a slow nod and took a seat on the arm of a sofa. When he sighed and commenced massaging his neck, concern clouded Tielle’s stare. She approached him at the sofa.
This was more than sibling upset, she realized. There was more wrong here than usual.
“You want to talk about it?”
Grae took her hand when she was within reach. “Remember the other day when I told you I wished I had your ability to see the best in people? I meant that, but I think my abilities run more along the lines of sniffing out the crap that people tend to pull.” He toyed with her fingers. “I told you Faro wants you here because he wants to fix things wrong in the family and considers you part of the group.” His hand flexed on hers. “May I tell you why I think he wants you here?”
He didn’t look up to see her nod. “He knows putting you within one hundred feet of me is enough to keep me off-kilter. Given our current situation, it’s enough to keep me oblivious to pretty much everything that’s going on around me.”
Tielle decided to pull back her hand, but Grae strengthened his grip a second before she moved.
“I’ve suspected for a long time that he’s up to something,” he said. “I’ve made moves to confront what he’s got up his sleeve, and I pray I won’t have to use them. My family’s had to deal with enough drama, courtesy of me and Faro. Besides, there’s a lot more I’d rather focus on.”
Tielle watched him studying her fingers. She observed the wicked flex of muscle along his jaw when he traced her ring finger, which was bereft of his adornment.
“Grae...Faro only ever wanted you to be a brother,” she softly encouraged.
“I was.” Grae’s smile was sad. “Just not the brother he wanted.”
“Grae—”
“My family’s terrified of me, Ti.”
“Honey...” She moved closer, her heart breaking on what she heard in his voice. “No...”
“That horse’s ass that masqueraded as your husband for the last eight months of our marriage, he’s gotten worse. Some of them blame you for it.” He pumped her hand. “That only makes me angrier.”
The slow, rumbling breath he expelled stirred the fine hair along Tielle’s nape.
“They love what my ability to coax and strong-arm has done for them financially. They just wish I’d tuck away the crazy alpha during family get-togethers.”
“I fell in love with that crazy alpha,” Tielle confessed.
“I know you did.” He nodded. “You tamed me. But I think I’ve got more rough edges now than you could ever tolerate. That’s gonna make it harder for me to get my ring back on your finger.” His hand tightened on hers when she attempted to withdraw her own.
“You know I want you back,” he said. “I never wanted you to go and you know I have no qualms about doing what I have to to get you back where you belong.”
“Grae, you’ve got your family to deal with and all this you’re saying about us—you’re trying to deal with us being around each other—”
“Stop, Tel. Don’t do that. You know that’s not it.” He pinned her with a long stare. “You don’t have to admit it, but don’t play the role like you’re good with the way we are.”
“All right. But this isn’t the time to discuss it.”
“Fair enough, but you know it’s coming.”
Tielle could only confirm that with a shaky breath.
Grae lifted her hand, holding it to his mouth for a time and then grazing a kiss across her knuckles. Then her wrist...
She flexed her fingers next to his cheek and leaned in helplessly when his tongue bathed the pulse point at her wrist. The damp kiss traveled to her palm, the tips of her fingers...
Grae sitting on the arm of the sofa put them eye to eye. He only needed to tug once in order to bring her mouth full against his.
The kiss began with a series of quick, sweet pecks. Gradually, their lips parted, tongues just barely peeking past and then seeking, finding, nudging and entwining.
“Grae...”
“Make me stop.”
She pretended not to hear the tortured warning. She deepened her exploration of his talented mouth and moaned in a manner that was undeniably ego stroking.
&n
bsp; Chapter 5
“You’re gonna have to stop me, Ti...”
“I will...”
Tielle made no moves to stop him. She didn’t seem to be interested in stopping anything, especially when Grae tugged her closer so that she was straddling his lap during their kiss. His hands skimmed her waist and curved down to cup and squeeze her ample bottom when sudden knocking fell to the parlor door.
Murmuring something indecipherable, Tielle was kneading Grae’s broad shoulders beneath the midnight-blue jacket he wore over a shirt of the same color. Stopping wasn’t on her mind, only her consideration for pushing Grae to his back on the sofa.
“Dinner!” someone announced through the door.
Cheeks burning, Tielle took note of her situation and disentangled herself from Grae. The iron bands of his arms tightened before she could completely disengage.
“Fix this,” he said, brushing his thumb across her lipstick-smudged mouth. He provided her with a tissue from a decorative dispenser perched on the table behind the sofa.
Tielle accepted without looking toward him and disappeared into the parlor’s private room.
* * *
“Hands off,” she murmured when he escorted her to her place at the long dining table.
“Yes, ma’am,” Grae obliged with a meekness no one would believe.
Desree Clegg was seated across from the couple. The approval in her expression was impossible to miss.
“It’s not what you think,” Tielle explained.
“Humph,” Desree laughed. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
The sound of a fork clinking crystal echoed in the room, and the soothing rumble of mixed conversation quieted. Heads turned toward the end of the long table where Faro Clegg stood smiling out over his family.
“Thank you, all, for arranging your schedules to be free,” Faro said.
“Good timing, man,” Oscar Clegg called out. “Chances are we’ll be snowed in by the end of the week.”
Grae heard Tielle groan softly over his uncle’s prediction. With a cool smile, he patted her thigh beneath the table and let it remain there to apply a slow massage. Tielle reciprocated by patting his hand and removing it.
“I hope our time in this place will be done before any real snow falls,” Faro said from the head of the table, “but I can’t think of a lovelier place to be stranded. I’d like to take this time to thank Tielle and her staff for opening the place on such short notice.”
With that acknowledgment, Faro applauded. The gesture was followed by less than half of the assembled group.
“Guess you’re all wondering why we’re here?” Faro queried once the pitiful claps silenced into murmurs of agreement. “This family runs one of the most successful marketing firms in the nation, but I’m sure none of us are blind to the fact that those successes almost equal many of our failures as a family.”
The murmurs gained volume. Their agreeing tones, however, betrayed signs of agitation.
“I know that I have much to answer for, and if I can admit that, can’t all of you?”
The low murmuring of voices silenced as though a switch had been hit. The group looked to Faro with greater interest, heightened suspicion.
“Stay with me, guys,” Faro urged. “There’s drama in this family that’s been around since I was a kid, and I can remember a time when it wasn’t like that. I was old enough to remember the love we all used to have for each other.”
“Talk plain, Faro. What’d you really bring us up here for?” Paul Clegg demanded.
“Because I’m ready to be honest and lay it on the line about my shortcomings. I want you all to do the same.”
“What’s that gonna solve?” Ken Clegg’s youngest brother, Barry, asked.
“Yeah, Faro, and why did we all have to come out to Tielle’s stuck-up psychiatric ward to talk about it?” Asia complained.
“Because there’s been enough talking behind closed doors,” Faro countered.
“What do you expect us to admit?” Grae asked.
The room stilled. The group was nervously expectant, as was usually the case whenever the brothers conversed.
“We need to discuss where things went wrong.” Faro’s voice sounded fuller. “Where they went wrong and why, and give apology where apology is due.”
“What the hell are you talkin’ about, boy?” Russell Clegg’s question launched heated discussions that colored the dining room with tense language and harsh laughter.
“Could you give us some example of what you mean for us to do, Faro?” Desree’s easy tone somehow cut through the melee.
Some silenced their agitated words while others leaned forward in anticipation of Faro’s reply. Instinctively, Tielle sought Grae’s hand, clutching it beneath the table.
“I want to apologize for coming between one of the happiest couples I know,” Faro said.
As Tielle had predicted, all eyes turned toward herself and Grae.
* * *
With his family looking on, Grae watched his brother do something he’d never witnessed—take responsibility for his own wrongdoing.
Faro’s expression was earnest. “Tielle, I’m sorry for making you feel so torn, at odds with yourself for doing what you thought was right and what was best for your marriage. I should’ve told you it wasn’t your place, refused your help.” He looked to his brother. “Grae, I should’ve gone along with your wishes to keep her out of it. If I’d helped you put up a united front, things may’ve been a lot simpler and it all never would’ve gone as far as...badly as it did.”
Faro hid his hands in his walnut-colored trouser pockets. “I’ve apologized before, but never really came clean with any real depth and before the eyes and ears of our family. Tielle, Grae, I’m sorry.”
Faro allowed a span of time to pass between them before he once again addressed the group. “It’s as simple as that, folks. Admit to the wrongdoings and the parts we played in damaging our family.”
“You’re making it hard to be blackmailed, that’s for damn sure.”
There was some laughter at Barry’s words, but not much. Faro smiled wanly.
“Family, sooner or later all the ugliness will catch up to us. Then it’ll ooze over with the business and bring tension there, as well,” he said. “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already. Surprised Grae can still work with me, much less look at me. I’ve had enough, but that doesn’t matter if none of the rest of you have.”
“Where’s all this coming from, Faro?” Jill Clegg asked. “We aren’t all at each other’s throats. If anything, you and Grae do more squabbling than anyone.”
“Amen,” Asia supported her great-aunt’s claim, “and I wonder why that is.”
“Asia...” Ranata warned her cousin.
“You wonder why?” Faro challenged his cousin’s words, a glare bringing his dark face into further shadow. “Anybody could feel the coldness in the family after a certain point.”
“Faro?” Desree’s expression was both curious and haunted. “Honey, what in the world are you talking about?”
“And how do you know about any coldness in the family?” Jill challenged. “You’re a child.”
“I’m old enough to remember it,” Faro argued.
“You ain’t that old,” Russell snapped.
“Is this what you dragged us out here for, boy?” Paul frowned. “To rehash some drama you think you sensed when you were a kid?”
“Can any one of you say this family has no issues?” Faro asked, his patience with his family showing signs of strain.
“All families have issues, honey.” Desree’s reminder was soft.
“Damn right,” Asia blurted. “And none that require a bloated getaway in some overpriced resort.”
“And that’s
enough for me.” Tielle sighed, her voice holding a trace of happy relief. She stood.
“Please, sweetie,” Desree urged with a poised wave, “don’t go. We haven’t even had the chance to enjoy our delicious meal yet.”
“I know, Des.” Tielle managed a soft smile in the woman’s direction. “But I’ve had more than enough.”
Asia gasped at the comment as Tielle threw down her napkin and left the dining room. Grae decided not to follow his ex-wife even though he wanted to. He’d go to her shortly, but he wanted to stay and observe his brother.
There was something more in motion then, he realized. Whatever he and Leo had suspected may have had merit, but it was in no way the endgame.
So much for swooping in to save the day, he thought.
It seemed he’d have no other choice than to wait for Faro to reveal his hand. That meant spending less time tending to what he’d really come there for—Tielle.
* * *
Dinner turned out to be more of a touch-and-go event than it was intended to be. No one complained. Faro’s attempt to have the family share its deepest and darkest had most certainly backfired. Still, the man tried his best to salvage what he’d planned for the night. He’d apparently hoped that a change of venue might loosen tongues, but instead the family made silent choices to help themselves at the impressive buffet and then to enjoy meals in the privacy of their respective suites.
Given that course of action, Tielle opted for remaining downstairs. Following her stormy departure from the dining room, she took refuge in the library, which had always been one of her favorite places to retreat to. She had one of the cook staff deliver her dinner there. The chill of the evening made it suitable to build a fire, so Tielle curled up on the sofa in front of the enormous hearth. The structure spanned a broad portion of the wall beneath the library’s second level of bookcases.
She was indulging in the first course—a hearty, gooey potato soup—when the wide cherrywood door creaked open to admit Grae’s tall frame. In one hand, he balanced a wooden tray that carried large portions of that evening’s meal. In his other hand, he carried a large mug of frothy beer, which he gulped from while making his way into the library.