by A. C. Arthur
She was an attractive woman, she could get a date. So what if she didn’t want to do anything beyond dating? That was her business. And besides, she’d done just fine up until now. There was no reason to change a system that had worked so well for her for the last couple of years. No reason at all.
* * *
Leon was at her door promptly at seven. Dressed in the Fubu jeans he’d mentioned earlier and a navy blue ribbed turtleneck sweater, he looked casual and well kept. His broad shoulders and tight biceps strained beneath the material of the sweater. Timberland boots rounded off the casual ensemble.
“What’s this, your tribute to urban attire?” she joked when he walked in.
“I thought I’d give it a try just to see how it felt.”
“It looks good on you.” Closing the door behind her she surveyed him again. Now here was the type of man who attracted her, the confident, suave, astonishingly good-looking type. This was the man who should be putting those butterflies in her stomach.
“You think so? Better than a business suit or dress slacks and casual polo?” With one hand in his pocket and the other poised beneath his chin, he turned from side to side, striking different poses for her.
Chuckling, she went to the closet for her coat. “I like the slacks and polo better but this is good too. It gives you a definite thug-like flavor.” She also had opted for jeans tonight, but unlike his baggy ones, hers fit her long slender legs perfectly. The hunter green shirt she wore was tucked in snugly and stretched tightly over her breasts. Her hair, having long since lost the curls that Ms. Rosie had painstakingly put in last week, was pulled back into a neat ponytail secured with a green scrunchie.
Leon’s cologne invaded the air as he stepped behind her to help her with her coat. When his hands came to rest on her shoulders and he turned her to face him, she thought she felt a little stirring in her stomach. Concentrating, she waited to see if it were real. Nope. Nothing.
When he lowered his head, she knew he’d kiss her. She waited for the breathlessness that should occur—the way it had Saturday night in Ms. Rosie’s kitchen. She was ready; she closed her eyes, determined to give it her all. Tonight would tell which way their relationship would go from here. If Leon stirred something in her tonight, she’d go all the way. That would prove that not only could she have a date, she could also have a relationship.
The actual thought of a relationship made her queasy, but the mocking tone Terrell had taken with her earlier about having a date at all calmed her nerves, making her all the more determined to prove him wrong.
Leon was the epitome of tall, dark and too damned handsome. Even his bald head was sexy as hell. A neatly trimmed mustache touched her lips with his first tentative efforts. Concentrating again, she lowered her eyes and puckered her lips for the assault.
Leon had kissed her before, and it had been pleasant. Not overly stimulating or knee-knocking satisfying, but it had been good.
Tonight it needed to be better.
His lips were warm against hers when they finally fully connected. A peck. Then a slightly open-mouthed connection. She accepted the silky smoothness of his tongue. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, concentrating on what she wanted her body to feel.
His arms engulfed her, and she could feel his steely maleness pressing against her stomach. She wondered if that was supposed to be arousing. His hands rubbed her back and slowly inched their way to her bottom, where he squeezed the supple roundness. She knew that was supposed to arouse her. Instead, she felt a tad irritated. He had used a little more force than she cared for.
Concentrating still, she moved her head against the rhythm he had created, her tongue abidingly dueling with his. Where was that flutter she’d thought she felt a few minutes ago? His low moan told her that he was definitely feeling this kiss. Her clear mind and wandering thoughts told her she wasn’t. Oh, well, the night had just begun. She still had time to warm up to him.
The night progressed with no quivers or romantic stirrings for Leah, even though Leon was giving her his very best efforts. She just didn’t feel anything. When they got back to her apartment, Leon sat on the couch waiting for her while she went into the bathroom to examine the situation again.
What exactly were these stirrings she was looking for? Had she ever felt them before? She tried to remember back to her two prior experiences in this department and came up blank. She could barely remember the act itself, let alone the feelings that had preceded it. This was pathetic; here she was, a thirty-year-old woman who had yet to truly experience lovemaking.
Then like a bolt of lightning the word hit her—love. Maybe that was the reason she hadn’t yet experienced it. She’d never been in love with anyone.
Returning to the couch to sit beside Leon, she wondered if she did love him. She liked him, of that she was positive. But did she love him? Probably not, if she had to ask herself over and over again. Wouldn’t you know right off the bat when you loved someone? While up until recently, she’d enjoyed being with Leon, she didn’t think about him constantly, didn’t dream about him, and her heart didn’t flutter every time he was near. Come to think of it, her heart had never fluttered around him. Her heart hadn’t fluttered until…the chilling memory of bumping into the slim stranger at Rosie’s engagement party burst into her mind.
“Leah?” Leon’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, did you say something?” Her hand on her chest, she tried to hide the hammering that had begun during the memory. Oh God! She didn’t need this; she didn’t need to be thinking about that annoying man while she was sitting here with Leon.
“I was asking you what’s wrong. You look a little distracted.” Leon stared at her intently.
“Um, nothing. I mean, I was just thinking about my mother and all the stuff she’s going through,” she lied. She’d told him about her mother and her seemingly endless problems a few weeks after meeting him, so he was familiar with her situation.
“Is everything okay? Is there something I can do?” Concern evident in his voice, Leon moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
Leaning in to the offer of comfort, Leah let her head rest on his shoulder. “No, I talked to Darryl last night and he said that he was going to take care of it. I hope she listens to him and tries the counseling.” Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the memory of the phone call she’d received just before leaving the office.
“I’m sorry, baby. I wish there was something I could do.” Leon’s strong hand rubbed up and down her arm, his fingertips lightly brushing her breasts.
She felt something. Concentrating, she zeroed in on the feeling and tried to exploit it. The spot where he had just touched was warm. He moved his hand up and down again—yup, it was warm alright. Maybe it was just going to take a while for things to heat up between them.
“Let’s not talk about my mother and her problems right now.” Turning her head so that she looked into his face, she searched herself again for some stirrings of emotion.
“Okay, what do you want to talk about?” His voice had lowered considerably, his eyes darkening as he watched her.
She knew what he wanted, read it clearly in his eyes. Her heart quickened a bit. Yes! It’s starting, she told herself. Compared to Terrell, Leon was perfect for her. She desperately wanted to prove that point.
“You know, Leah, I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately.” With his free hand he caressed her knee.
She was eager to get the emotional ball rolling. She moved a hand to his shoulder. “You have?”
“I really think we have something special going.” He spoke almost in a whisper but she heard him loud and clear. His hands stilled both on her arm and on her knee as he watched her with barely contained desire. His voice was husky, his breathing just a little labored.
Okay, this was were she should be lost in his gaze, anticipating his next move, longing for his touch…as she had the other night in Ms. Rosie’s ki
tchen…in Terrell’s arms. His voice had been heavy with desire, deep and arousing. His touch, soft, inviting. Terrell’s lips had hovered dangerously close to hers and she thought death would surely be less painful then waiting for him to kiss her.
Terrell. His name was a whisper in her mind and she blinked abruptly, focusing again on Leon.
“I’m beginning to develop some feelings that I think are worth exploring. I think about you constantly. I miss you when I’m away.” His hand had left her knee to cup her cheek. “What do you think?”
Good Lord, he didn’t want to know what she was thinking, she didn’t even want to be thinking it. But there it was. She was sitting on the couch in the arms of this handsome man who obviously adored her, and yet her mind had been on someone else. Someone who annoyed the hell out of her. No, she wasn’t feeling Terrell Pierce like that, she was sure of it.
But neither was she feeling Leon and it was time she stopped stalling and accepted that. “Leon, I think we have a really good time together.” She hesitated.
“But?” He anticipated her next words and couldn’t say that he liked them.
She pulled her hand away, let it rest in her lap. “But that’s it. I don’t think there’s anything else between us.” His features stilled, his hands on her going cold. “I mean, I’d like us to remain friends. I just don’t see any romantic involvement in our future. I’m sorry if that isn’t what you were expecting.”
Leon took his time, choosing his words carefully. He took both her hands in his and steadied his breathing. “If you need more time, Leah, I’m willing to wait. I know we would be so good together.”
I’m glad you know it, because right now I just don’t feel it. “I don’t know, Leon. And the last thing I want to do is lead you on. Why don’t we take a little break, give each other some space to see if this is really something we want to pursue.” She was grasping now, trying to let him down gently. She knew that time was not going to change how she felt about Leon, no matter how much she wanted it to. He just wasn’t for her.
“I’m a patient man,” he told her, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her palm. “And I usually get what I want.”
Okay, well, whatever. She was getting tired of the men around her not taking no for an answer. He’d spoken slowly, methodically, his jaw clenching with each word, his eyes intent on her. Slightly irritated, she slipped her hands out of his and stood. “I’m kind of tired so—”
Leon stood with her, cupping her face possessively before dropping a soft kiss on her cheek. “My motto is, ‘good things come to those who wait.’ And Leah, I’m positive you’ll be good.”
His lips were a whisper from hers. What the hell, let him give it one more try. She closed her eyes and leaned in for his kiss. What started out as a sweet gesture quickly changed to a passionate assault by Leon. He pulled her closer, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with a ferocity that she wasn’t accustomed to. Leah pulled back instantly, staring at him in surprise. “Good night, Leon.”
For a moment he didn’t move, and she thought he was going to argue with her, but then he gave her a slow smile and backed away. He walked to the door with her slowly on his heels. Donned in his coat and standing on the other side of the threshold, he turned again to look at her. “I’ll be waiting, Leah. I’m not going anywhere.”
His words annoyed her, but she managed a small smile anyway. “I’ll see you later.” But she prayed she wouldn’t.
With his nod she closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
* * *
Terrell lay in bed wondering if she were back from her date yet. Had the guy spent the night or had she sent him home at the door? He imagined what she’d worn, probably a skirt or something classy. The dude had probably taken her to some fancy restaurant trying to wine and dine her so he could get her into bed. A mild fury bubbled around inside of him as he thought of Leah and her date having sex.
This was stupid, he berated himself. He wasn’t interested in her. She could do whatever she wanted, it didn’t matter to him one way or another. He had more important things to tend to. Rolling over onto his side, he reached for the phone perched on his nightstand. Quickly dialing the numbers he knew so well he waited for an answer.
“Hello?”
“What’s up, man? You got some news for me?” Terrell spoke into the receiver.
“I was just going to call you. I checked the bank accounts and he looks pretty stable financially. No wife, two daughters, the shop, everything you told me pretty much checks out.”
“Yeah?” Terrell didn’t hide his disappointment.
“Except?”
His hopes raised, Terrell sat up in the bed, “Except what?”
“It seems he has a colored past.”
“How colored?” Terrell held his breath in anticipation.
“Bloody red.” The voice on the phone went on with his report. Terrell listened intently, secure in the fact that he had found information that would blow this whole wedding out of the water.
CHAPTER SIX
A week later Rosie’s invitations had been ordered and were scheduled to be delivered in the next three weeks. Rosie had come into Leah’s office the morning after Leah’s date with Leon, apologizing for cutting their other meeting short because of her son’s dinner invitation. Leah brushed it off, telling Rosie not to worry.
Instead they discussed the menu for the reception, the florists and the photographer. Rosie was excited and Leah was happy for her. She liked Rosie, had secretly harbored thoughts of what her life would have been like had she had a mother like her instead of Marsha. Rosie seemed so full of love, so understanding and accepting of people and their faults. Leah wondered whether, if she’d been Rosie’s daughter, she would have the capabilities to love and be loved in return. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so afraid of marriage for herself.
As Leah talked to the woman she’d known for so long, she couldn’t help noticing the similarities between mother and son. They had the same eyes, except Rosie’s were calm and caring all the time, while Terrell’s seemed to darken at moments, completely prohibiting anyone from seeing what he was feeling.
Rosie was quick to smile, but Terrell gave his mesmerizing grin infrequently. Not that it lessened the effect any, she remembered with dismay. She’d thought about him often over the last few days. Thought of the way he’d looked at her when he asked her to dinner, the way he’d sounded on the phone when he asked about the type of man she liked. Ultimately, though, her thoughts returned to his seeming surprise that she had a date, and she grew angry.
* * *
Returning from a meeting a few days later, Leah found a message from Terrell taped to her computer. What did he want now? They’d said all they needed to say to each other. Crumpling the pink slip of paper, she tossed it in the trashcan and sat down at her desk.
“Why do I get the sneaky suspicion that the message you just threw away was from me?” Terrell leaned against the doorjamb of her office. One finger held his leather coat over his shoulder.
Startled, Leah looked toward the door. It was him. “What do you want?” Exasperated, she propped her elbows on her desk and prayed he’d make this quick.
“I wanted to speak with you. Isn’t that what the message said?” He took a seat across from her, noticing that he was apparently the last person she wanted to see at this moment. Patience, he reminded himself. All good things came in time. He’d practiced that motto during his years of schooling and building his reputation and had been well rewarded. Where Leah Graham was concerned, he hoped for the same outcome.
“Have a seat, why don’t you?” she said dryly. “And I don’t know what your message said, as you saw for yourself I didn’t read it.” She was purposely flippant, praying that her body didn’t betray her.
He gave a crooked grin. “You read it, you just chose to disregard it.” After carefully placing his jacket in the adjacent chair he turned again to look at her. She wore a long blue skirt with a split halfway up her l
eg. Had she not been so quick to sit down, he could have enjoyed the view a little longer. But the view he had now was pleasing enough. Her suit jacket was open and displayed the white button-down shirt she wore, a silver choker at her neck with a blue stone resting quietly at the hollow of her throat. Thoughts of how sweet that hollow would taste blurred his vision for a moment and he blinked furiously to clear his mind.
His visit here today was two-fold. Yes, he’d thought of her constantly since last seeing her over a week ago, but there was something he needed to talk to her about, to ask her. It was best to get that out of the way first. “Luckily I decided to come and see you in person. I have something to tell you.”
“What could you possibly have to tell me?” Wearily, she sat back in her chair, trying to still the erratic beating of her heart. Oh Lord, her heart was thumping hard again. It hadn’t been a few moments ago. She was positive her heart had beat at its normal pace for the past several days, but as of about two minutes ago she felt as if she were running a marathon.
He wore dress slacks today, charcoal gray. A dress shirt just a shade lighter than his pants was buttoned neatly and accented with a silver tie splattered with what looked like ebony raindrops. His glasses were, of course, sliding down his nose again and those questioning eyes watched every move she made. She clasped her hands in her lap to keep them still.
“It’s about Donald.” Pushing his glasses up on his nose he watched her closely.
A little hurt that he wasn’t here on a more personal level, she straightened in her chair. “What about Donald?”
“He has some things in his past I think you should know about.”
His goatee looked smooth, like the kind that might tickle and arouse her if it brushed over the soft skin of her belly. “First of all, why should I know anything at all about Donald’s past? All I need to know is that his check cleared.” She shifted uncomfortably.