Chapter Eighteen
She awoke to a six a.m. call from Rye.
“Hi, you.” She smiled, still sleepy as she stretched in the bed. “Are you at the airport?”
“Yes, but my flight was delayed because of the rainstorms there in Atlanta. Please be careful when you go out today; the roads are slick, and you and other female drivers will be out in force.”
“I think you’re trying to be sweet, so I’m not even going to trip at the insult.”
His voice lowered to a rumbling baritone. “The pill became effective today, right?”
“You remembered, huh?”
“Hell yeah, and if I was there, I’d already be deep diving with no skin.”
Just like that, the area between her legs grew damp and needy. “I’m ready too.”
“You’d better be. I have to do wrap-up reports at the office once I get there, but I plan to see you well before we’re expected at my parents’.”
“Ryder Jackson McKay. You are not going to do me in a drive-by right before we have to leave for dinner with your parents. Forget it.”
“Lacey Marie Bishop. When I come to pick you up, if we even have ten minutes to spare, I will have my pussy,” he informed her in a tight, husky tone that brooked no argument. Then she heard a dial tone.
“Well, all right, then,” she muttered to the air. If they only had five minutes to spare, she’d give him his pussy, but she wouldn’t tell his arrogant behind. He’d been in Pittsburgh for three days, so she was about to go crazy missing him. Such was her life. Not that she’d change a thing about the past wondrous month as his girlfriend.
After a quick breakfast, she checked in with Monica at the Thymes and started on the multitude of errands she needed to run. Not only was it her and Rye’s first night without condoms, it was their first dinner as a couple with his family. She was as nervous as hell and needed to look and feel her best.
She placed food and supply orders online before driving across town for her weekly mani-pedi. During a late lunch with Ally and Lisa, Ally had no qualms about violating doctor-patient privilege as she ribbed Lacey about her upcoming condom-free night amid Lisa’s unconcealed looks of disgust. Finally, Lacey landed at Marguerite’s, the boutique where she indulged her love of all things cotton.
“Lacey, my dear, you look positively radiant!” The boutique owner’s greeting was in a French accent Lacey had yet to determine was genuine or not. For all she knew, the flamboyant proprietor could have come straight out of DeKalb County, Georgia. “What brings you in today?”
“I need a few bra and panty sets as well as a dozen sets of sheets,” Lacey rushed out.
“Did you say dozen?” Marguerite asked, her eyebrows raised.
“Yes.” Lacey refused to satisfy Marguerite’s obvious curiosity about the large order. What could she say? My boyfriend has a habit of ripping my panties off to get to my pussy faster, so I need more underwear. Plus we’re ditching condoms, and I’m a neat freak who needs more sheets because I won’t be able to wash them as fast as Rye will try to mess them up. She didn’t think so.
“Any particular color?” the proprietor asked as she keyed information into the computer.
“At this point, I’m desperate enough to take anything you have,” Lacey replied.
“The system is showing I have some of the things you need, but have a seat or browse around, and I’ll double-check the inventory in the back,” Marguerite said before breezing away.
Lacey turned to look at the new-arrivals section and ran smack into another customer. “I’m sorry; I wasn’t paying attention,” she started.
“No problem.” The gorgeous blonde smiled. Then her brow knitted together. “Aren’t you Lacey? Kyle’s sister?”
Lacey gave a polite smile even as she groaned on the inside. She wasn’t in the mood to reminisce with one of her brother’s castoffs. She was surprised to know Kyle had stepped out with a white girl, but that was his business. “Yes, I’m Kyle’s sister.”
The girl’s face lit up. “I thought so. I see Kyle all the time, but I remember you from Hanover’s annual banquet a couple of years ago. I work in the engineering department with Rye McKay,” she said as she extended her hand. “Natalie Hanover.”
Lacey didn’t remember Natalie, but she smiled as she shook the girl’s hand. “My family and I have attended several company events over the years when Rye was honored or received an award.”
“Well, that’s been pretty much a given lately. He is a tremendous leader, and he’s taking the engineering department to a new level. My father is so proud of him.” Hero worship more than apparent on Natalie’s face.
“He works hard to be the best,” Lacey commented.
“So true. When my father was breathing down my neck for me to decide which career field I wanted to pursue, it only took one summer interning with Rye for me to make up my mind. I received my engineering degree two years ago.”
Lacey did her best to keep a straight face, but she knew where this was heading. Natalie wasn’t one of Kyle’s exes; she was another member of Rye’s fan club. Since Marguerite had yet to return, Lacey became audience by default as the girl sang the praises of her mentor. Lacey didn’t pay too much attention until Natalie leaned closer and whispered in a “girl-to-girl” voice.
“You’ve known Rye for a long time, haven’t you?” Natalie asked with a lascivious gleam in her eyes.
Lacey gave a reluctant nod, although her instincts told her to run fast and far away from this woman and this conversation.
“I’ve heard Rye is a wild man in bed. Can you imagine all that power and masculinity coming at you at one time?”
“Hmm,” Lacey murmured. In the words of Marvin Gaye, she could be the first to testify to Rye’s abilities. It made her a little sick to know the gossip was spot-on.
Natalie continued as if she were talking to her very best friend about the weather. “We’re going to New York for an engineering conference soon, and between you and me, I’m pulling out all the stops to see Rye’s bedroom talents firsthand. I simply had to order new lingerie, and when Marguerite called to say it was here, I dropped what I was doing to come pick it up. After I’m done with Rye, he won’t know what hit him. My dad will be excited to have the star of his company as his future son-in-law.”
Lacey snapped out of her daze. “You think this will lead to marriage?”
“Why not? I’ve wanted Rye for years, and I plan to make sure he wants me too. Plus it would be a good career move for him; my daddy owns the company, after all.”
It was all Lacey could do to keep calm. Natalie’s nonchalance was reminiscent of a person never denied anything. After having to deal with all types of clients—important people, and people who thought they were important—Lacey had learned to keep a neutral facial expression no matter the subject of a conversation, like right now. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that she and Rye were together, but it would never occur to this spoiled brat it was a possibility. No, since Lacey wore a darker hue than Rye’s typical woman, she was not considered a threat. Lacey pasted on a plastic smile, but she was ready to fight someone for the first time in her life.
Just in time, Marguerite whirred to a stop beside Lacey. “Oh, there you are. Come with me, and we’ll go over your order,” she said and directed Lacey to the cashier area.
As always, Lacey was grateful for the personal attention given at the boutique, but never more than right then. Marguerite didn’t know it, but she’d saved Natalie from receiving some information she probably didn’t want to hear, and a beat down on top of it.
“Okay. We have several sets of the lingerie on hand.” Marguerite paused and smiled. It was unheard of that anyone would have such a narrow back size paired with a large cup size in stock, especially in Lacey’s beloved cotton fabric. Whereas satin and lace made most other women feel sexy, organic material did it for Lacey. Now Rye preferred it too.
“We have five of the queen sheets available for you to take today,
and I’ll have the others delivered next week. Will that work?”
“Of course. I’m impressed you have any of it,” Lacey revealed with a smile.
As Marguerite preened with the compliment, Lacey fished her credit card from her wallet to settle the bill.
“No need for that, dahling. A substantial credit has already been applied to your account.”
“What? I haven’t established an account here,” Lacey replied, stunned.
Marguerite looked at the computer screen again. “Yes, we have a card on file from a Mr. McKay.”
Lacey was astounded. Then she was mad at Rye for having the audacity to arrange payment for something without talking to her first. Next she was embarrassed because she was sure Marguerite knew what would be happening on those very fine sheets. Finally she was a little turned on because she also knew what would happen on those sheets, and because of Rye’s thoughtfulness.
“Well, I guess that’s settled,” she said and displayed a thousand-watt smile.
“You’re all set.” Marguerite handed Lacey the two designer bags containing her items. “Look for your delivery soon, and congratulations, dahling.”
Lacey gave her a questioning look.
“That young man of yours is as fine as they come,” Marguerite said in a down-home voice and finished with a sly wink.
“He was here?” She gasped. She’d assumed Paula must have called with the information. It was shocking to know Rye had handled it himself.
“In the flesh. And what a gorgeous specimen he is,” Marguerite drawled, her foreign accent thick again.
Lacey was so taken aback she barely lifted a hand to acknowledge Natalie’s good-bye as she walked out the door.
Rye was picking her up for dinner at the McKays, so she didn’t have much time to waste. As soon as she walked into the brownstone, she stored her new purchases before showering. The whole conversation with Natalie still bothered her, but she couldn’t dwell on it right now.
Chapter Nineteen
As a neighbor and sister of Rye’s best friend, visiting with Rye’s parents would be a relaxed occasion. Preparing for dinner with them as Rye’s girlfriend was akin to looking forward to a nonmedicated root canal. A few months ago, she was the girl next door; now she was the black girl who opened her legs on demand to their son. She could see where they might look at her differently.
Since it was raining, Lacey decided not to flatiron her hair. Instead she parted her wavy mane on the side and tucked the longer front sections behind her ears. Then she moisturized every single inch of her body with the citrusy scented lotion Rye loved. She put on a little makeup and the celery-green fitted dress that went well with her pecan coloring. She’d just sat on the living room sofa to wait for Rye when the garage door opened. He was a half hour early, and her center tingled at the possibility of him making good on his promise. As usual, she was ready and willing.
She met him in the mudroom. “Hi, you,” she said, walking into his arms.
“I missed you, baby,” he told her after a steamy kiss. “You are stunning. And you smell so damn good.”
“I missed you too.” Lacey smiled as she ran her hand over his rock-hard chest. With their relationship on a different level, she felt comfortable saying those words out loud instead of letting them rattle inside her head. His gorgeous form looked like he just stepped from the pages of GQ Magazine. A crisp white linen button-down with sleeves rolled to his elbows and faded charcoal slacks molded to his muscular thighs suited him to perfection. Lord have mercy, her man was fine.
“Thank you for the sheets. You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re welcome, and hell yes, I did. I plan on messing up a fair amount of your delicate linens posthaste.”
She shook her head and laughed. “You’re so bad.”
“On every level,” he confirmed. Rye settled his palms on her butt cheeks and pulled her against his straining erection. “He knows we’re home.”
“She knows you’re home too,” Lacey returned in a throaty whisper.
“As bad as I want to be buried inside you, we’ve got to move. Tornado and flash flood watches were just issued, and my mother is about to drive me crazy wondering if we’re still coming.”
“Is it safe to go?”
“I’m more afraid of disappointing my mother than I am of any tornado or flood. She’s been looking so forward to tonight for a whole month. We’ll be fine if we leave now and take our time,” he said confidently as he led her out the door.
Aside from the heavy rain, the weather held out, and with Rye’s capable navigation, they arrived at the McKay residence in the usual twenty-minute travel time.
“How long are your folks going to be visiting your grandmother’s family in Detroit?” Rye asked as he looked over at the Bishops’ home before pulling into his parents’ garage.
“Another week, thank goodness,” Lacey muttered.
“Lacey,” Rye chided.
“Well, it’s true. If they were home, we’d feel obligated to at least go over and say hello, and my mother would say something to offend one of us, we’d argue, and one thing would lead to another, and on and on and on. Do you feel like dealing with that tonight?”
“I see your point.”
“Good. Do I look okay?” she asked for the fourth time as she smoothed her dress over her hips.
“What are you worried about? You’ve been here a million times, and you look beautiful.”
“That was before I knew what you look like naked.” Lacey paused and arched her brow. “And before you dined on my southern cuisine.”
Rye’s entire body shook with laughter. “Baby, you never cease to amaze me,” he said as he entwined their fingers and led her into the house.
As soon as they turned the corner, Rye’s mother gave them an enthusiastic greeting. “Hi, honey. Hello, Lacey. So glad you could make it. The weather is awful, and I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to come. Rye’s not scared to drive in crazy conditions like this, but it would terrify me. Of course Jackson would be the one driving, not me—”
“Emily Ann, you’re smothering the poor girl.” Rye’s father approached Lacey and kissed her on the cheek. “Welcome, Lacey. Good to see you.”
Jensen watched quietly, but then she squealed and grabbed Lacey in a rocking hug. She stepped back and held Lacey’s hands in hers. “You guys are so cute together! At first I couldn’t believe it; Rye has never had a real girlfriend in his life. But it’s really true!”
“Yes, and I’d like to keep her,” Rye said with a lopsided grin as he pried Lacey from Jensen’s clasp and pulled her to his side.
Finally, Lacey’s nerves settled, and she was relieved. Once everyone had a glass of wine, they chatted about the weather and any other thing that came to mind. Jensen, who was four years younger than Lacey and a third-year resident at Johns Hopkins, brought Lacey up to speed on current events in her life.
When Rye’s mother announced dinner, they walked into the dining room, and Jensen wove her arm through Lacey’s. “I am happy for you and my brother. You’re just what he needs.”
“Thank you. That means a lot,” Lacey said as she hugged the beautiful blonde who looked so much like Rye. Lacey was overwhelmed with the family’s outpouring of support. It seemed as long as Rye was happy, they were ecstatic, and nothing else mattered, not even the racial difference. If only pleasing her family were as simple. She hurried and squashed her anxiety; she wanted to enjoy this loving family and have a wonderful evening.
“The snapper is delicious, Mrs. McKay,” Lacey complimented after the first bite of the tender, flavorful fish.
“Oh, thank you,” Rye’s mother gushed. “I’m sure it’s not up to your level of expertise, but it was fun experimenting with a new recipe. And please call me Emily Ann.”
After the meal, Lacey followed the McKay crew and adjourned in the den to watch updates about the weather on television. If she weren’t enjoying the evening so much, the loud thunderstorms and lig
htning would be a bit scary. However, she made the best of it and agreed to play a game of charades at Jensen’s suggestion. Even Rye’s and Jackson’s agonized groans didn’t deter them.
“Ignore him,” Lacey and Emily Ann said at the same time, eliciting a round of laughter at the coincidence.
Lacey and Rye formed one team, Jackson and Jensen another, while Emily Ann moderated. Father and daughter were fierce competitors, so Rye mapped out strategy between sets. Each time Lacey made a guess with time to spare, Rye rewarded her with a smacking kiss right on the lips. Before they could finish the game, the lights flickered and then went out. Jackson went and turned on the generator, but when he got back, Emily Ann decided it would be fun to use candles instead of turning on the lights.
“Wouldn’t it be romantic to tell stories by candlelight, like we’re camping out?” Emily Ann suggested.
Jensen rolled her eyes. “Hello? Unattached person over here.”
“Yes, and when are you going to do something about it?” Emily Ann questioned her daughter.
“Stories by candlelight it is,” Jensen chirped, obviously preferring to play the game solo than answer questions about her love life.
While Jackson lit pillar columns, Rye surprised Lacey by scooping her onto his lap and sinking back into the comfortable cushions on the sofa. Her heart thudded like a tribal drum from being in such an intimate embrace in front of his family, but when no one else seemed to think much of it, she relaxed and enjoyed being close to him.
In a slight departure from the rustic experience, Rye’s father turned on the television. A breaking-news report advised strong winds had downed power lines and swept them onto the interstate, rendering main routes impassable.
“It’s settled. You two are staying here tonight,” Jackson said.
Alarmed, Lacey tried to separate herself from Rye. “I don’t want to be any trouble. I can go next door.”
“Absolutely not,” Rye growled in a tone leaving no room for argument.
Taste of Lacey Page 13