He hesitated. He hadn’t planned on Gloria being there today, while in retrospect he just realized, she’d been coming to Evelyn’s birthday barbecue for a few years now. “Nothing. We can talk about it later.”
Gloria’s delicate eyebrows climbed higher.
Shawnie, ignoring her brother’s hint that he didn’t want to discuss the matter in front of present company, laughed. “C’mon, Malcolm. You can talk in front of Gloria. She’s practically family.”
Practically family.
“Yeah, Malcolm. You know I can keep secrets.” Gloria’s hard gaze leveled on him.
Malcolm’s chin came up as he drew a deep breath. For an insane moment, he wanted to wipe the smug and superior look off Gloria’s face. Maybe it was best that she was here today. She could hear of his trip today instead of later—especially since he didn’t know when “later” was going to be.
“All right,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ve told you all earlier this year about the Arc Foundation partnering up with World Camp’s Malawi Outreach program.”
All three women stiffened.
“We’ve finally pounded out the details, and the Arc’s first group of volunteers is set to leave September 1.” He paused and swung his gaze toward his mother, hoping to gauge whether she was all right with this decision. “I’ll be going with them.”
Gloria’s jaw dropped open. “That’s next week.”
He nodded and watched understanding dawn in her eyes.
“So you were going to just up and leave?”
“I’ve been planning this trip for a long time.”
“Yeah,” Shawnie jumped in. “But that was before Dad passed away.”
The first few cinder blocks of guilt crashed onto Malcolm’s shoulders.
Shawnie continued, “I know you’ve been planning it for a while, but can’t you go at another time? I mean—I thought you’d run for Daddy’s seat.”
He frowned. “You know how I feel about the whole political circus.”
“Oh, please. You say that, but it isn’t true. The way you and Dad would spar back and forth over ideas and policies is a testament to your passion for the very politics you claim to despise.”
“Amen to that,” Ty agreed, setting a heaping platter of barbecue ribs on the center of the outdoor table. “You guys would debate for hours.”
“And almost always you were on the same side but differed on the right strategy.”
“Forget it.” Gloria cut into the family argument. “I’ve already tried to convince him. The only kind of running he’s interested in is running away.”
The zinger silenced the table once again.
Gloria hadn’t meant for her temper to keep flaring, but Malcolm’s announcement had angered her beyond her control. When she’d gone into this personal campaign to persuade Malcolm into politics, she’d known and accepted the challenges it would entail.
However, losing her heart had not been part of the deal, and it was growing harder by the second to pretend Malcolm’s determined indifference wasn’t tearing her in two.
Struggling not to make a scene, Gloria quickly excused herself from the table and willed herself not to run the long way back to the main house. Instead, she strolled calmly with her head held high and her shoulders straight. She had no doubt that Malcolm’s heavy gaze followed her, but she was determined not to lose what little pride she had left.
By the time she made it to the bathroom on the main floor, she’d given up the fight and allowed her tears to flow down her face.
He was leaving. He was actually going to leave. Had that night truly meant nothing to him?
Gloria closed her eyes in anguish, and her treacherous mind replayed images from that glorious night—just as it had done for the past nine days.
“Why did I even bother coming here?” she moaned under her breath. The only answer was that she was a glutton for punishment. Somehow she’d convinced herself that once Malcolm saw her again, she could force him to face his feelings for her—or at least talk to her.
Something.
Something that confirmed that she’d not imagined the passion in which he’d made love to her or the desire she’d tasted from his lips. Surely she hadn’t imagined all of that.
Instead, all she’d seen was Malcolm’s fierce determination to get away from her.
The tears gushed and it was a long while before she finally managed to pull it together. Finally, she marched over to the stone-and-marble vanity area and winced at the mess she’d made of herself. There was no way she was going to let him see her like this.
Quickly, she fixed her hair and makeup. When she finished, she convinced herself, or rather prayed, no one would notice the red tint of her eyes or the puffiness of her nose. One thing for sure, she was determined to get through this evening with her dignity intact. When she returned to the barbecue, Malcolm had somehow managed to bump Tyson off the grill and was busy teaching him the best way to lock flavor into the meat.
She knew exactly when his gaze had shifted toward her, but she was determined to prove that she knew how to ignore him, too. Plus, she knew just the right button to push to get under his skin.
Clint Hardy.
It was childish and juvenile, but Gloria couldn’t help herself. After talking about him for a while, she rather enjoyed watching Malcolm grind his teeth, or how his muscles ticked along his jawline.
Soon, Shawnie picked up on her little game and decided to help her. Gloria recalled every asinine point or detail Hardy had brought up at Cayman’s fund-raiser. And Shawnie chimed in thinking friendly competition would spur him on.
Malcolm started burning the meat. Tyson jumped in, laughing, and reclaimed his throne.
“Well, he stands a good chance in winning a lot of female votes,” Shawnie said. “The man should be in Hollywood, not politics.”
“I didn’t know you had a thing for Clint Hardy,” Evelyn commented, surprised.
“I don’t,” Shawnie said. “I’m just saying that the man is easy on the eyes.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Gloria volleyed back with her friend.
“Please tell me that’s not all it takes for a man to win your vote,” Tyson cut in.
“No. Not all,” Shawnie shot back. “But it certainly doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t it, Gloria?”
“Not at all.”
Malcolm grunted.
The rest of the birthday barbecue became an odd mixture of laughter, reminiscent silence and occasional hostile quips between Malcolm and Gloria. Evelyn opened her small pile of presents and grew weepy when Gloria presented her with a silver locket Harmon had bought her prior to his death.
As evening descended, the small family gathering moved back into the mansion where reams of photos were pulled out and memories were shared.
The hour grew late and Evelyn started releasing a series of yawns that grew wider and longer. “As much as I hate to end this night,” Evelyn said, “it’s time for me to go to bed.”
Everyone glanced at their watches, noting how late it was.
Evelyn stood and kissed each of them good-night.
“Malcolm, sweetheart, you make sure you come back by before you leave on your trip.”
“I will, Mama.” He kissed her again.
Evelyn moved toward Gloria, who was sliding her purse strap over her shoulder. “Thank you so much for coming. I hope this won’t be your last visit here.”
“It won’t be,” Gloria said, but had a sinking feeling that it would.
Evelyn took her into her arms and whispered in her ear. “Don’t give up on him, baby.”
The encouragement shocked Gloria, but before she could utter a response, Evelyn swept from the room.
Shawnie hooked an arm around her brother Tyson and ordered him to walk her to her car, instantly leaving Gloria and Malcolm alone in the room.
After the humiliation she’d suffered all day, the last thing Gloria wanted was to be alone with him. She quickly turned and marched out of the room
, hoping to catch up with Shawnie and Tyson.
“That’s it? You’re not even going to say goodbye?” Malcolm said, walking behind her.
“Just following your example,” she tossed over her shoulder without slowing her pace. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave skid marks on the carpet when you left my apartment.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
Gloria rounded on him, fire in her eyes. “Are you?” she challenged. “It was sort of hard to tell since you didn’t even have the decency to call me.”
Malcolm’s jaw worked while his own anger simmered.
“Keep your apologies,” she hissed, and turned on her heel. “I don’t want them or you.” Gloria had only taken two steps into the darkened foyer when Malcolm’s hand clamped around her arm and dragged her into the shadows.
“Take your hands off me,” she snapped.
“Will you shut up and listen?” he growled.
“I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. That night was a mistake. The biggest one I’ve ever made.”
In a flash his body pressed against hers. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”
Her tears flowed. “How could you just ignore me like that? Didn’t that night mean anything to you?”
“Of course it did.” His voice cracked as if he was experiencing internal breakdown.
“Then why?”
Because I’m not sure if you want me or the man you want me to be. “It’s complicated,” he admitted, regretting the hurt he’d caused her.
“Then let me uncomplicate things for you,” she said, mopping her tears with the back of her hands. “Let me go.”
He wanted to, but he just couldn’t. Instead he kissed her.
And then he wanted more.
Chapter 17
Gloria hated Malcolm…but, oh, how she loved him, too.
If she’d ever questioned that, her body’s response to him now had finally given her its answer. Seconds ago, she was determined to march out of his life forever. Now she couldn’t imagine a world without him. What else could explain them pulling at each other’s clothes in the shadows of the main entryway where just a sliver of light streamed through the glass and wrought-iron?
“Oh, God. Do you know what you do to me?” Malcolm panted in a ragged whisper that hinted that he was just seconds from exploding.
Hell, did he know what he did to her? Her heart hammered hard against her rib cage and her blood boiled to the point where her entire body felt feverish. None of that mattered as long as Malcolm’s kisses intoxicated her and his hands stroked and caressed her puckered nipples.
Gloria surrendered to her riotous feelings and willingly handed her heart to a man who’d in all likelihood shatter it into a million pieces. Yet, she didn’t care. All that mattered was this small window in time when he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Oh, how much she wanted him.
She slid her legs against his, caressed them for a few strokes to hint what she craved. She didn’t feel when the button of her white shorts opened nor when her zipper slid down. However, she was acutely aware when her shorts and panties were peeled off her hips.
Hearing the condom packet rip open, Gloria just barely had time to grab Malcolm’s broad shoulders and hold on before he lifted her off the ground and plunged inside her.
Air rushed from her lungs, his thick shaft filling her completely. At his first strokes, tears rose and leaked from the corners of her eyes. Nothing had ever felt so exquisite.
Somewhere in the distance, a door opened.
Malcolm and Gloria froze.
The panic in Gloria’s heart didn’t come from the possibility of getting caught in a compromising position, but from the fear that Malcolm would come to his senses and not finish what he’d started.
Light footsteps shuffled across the marble floor while a feminine hum filled the bottom floor.
It was Sarona—likely grabbing a night snack before heading off to bed.
Gloria and Malcolm held their breaths. What if she came to check the front door? The seconds stretched for what seemed like an eternity. The air pinned in Gloria’s chest burned.
At long last, the foyer lights were turned off; except for a few streams of moonlight, the bottom floor was pitched into darkness.
Gloria finally exhaled in relief; but then Sarona walked past the entryway, sandwich in hand, and fear seized her. Malcolm’s and Gloria’s gazes followed Sarona as she hummed and wiggled her hips. Through the moonlight, Gloria was able to make out the white iPod earplugs jammed into her ears.
Even before the petite older woman climbed up the stairs, Malcolm began to move inside her—a slow grind that caused Gloria’s eyes to roll toward the ceiling. In no time her breathing turned rapid and shallow. The petals of her pending orgasm opened slowly.
Malcolm bent forward, drawing a sensitive breast into his hot mouth. She moaned.
Malcolm now knew what insanity was like. Why when she was just seconds from walking out of his life did he drag her back in? He didn’t remember thinking.
When Sarona had made her untimely appearance while they were hiding in the dark like two hormonally charged teenagers, he could have ended this madness. But he lacked the strength to withdraw—especially while her inner muscles squeezed him so. To pull out would have been like amputating a limb or carving out his heart.
None of this made sense.
He hated her…but, oh, how he loved her, too.
Love. There was that word again, echoing and bouncing around inside his head. He shook his head—not wanting to analyze anything. He just wanted to enjoy this moment.
This would be their last time, he promised. He just wanted this last time. Lord knows that she didn’t love him. She loved the idea of what she wanted him to be. Right?
One last time and then it would be over.
He moaned deep in his throat as their bodies’ friction ignited a blazing fire.
Gloria gasped, her eyes wide as her body quaked violently with her climax.
Malcolm drove deep into her wet heat until ecstasy consumed him.
As time passed, sweat cooled their bodies, and still he held her pinned to the wall panting in the crook of her neck and inhaling the scent of her skin. Reality parted the euphoric clouds in his head when she whispered, “I love you.”
He closed his eyes; his heart hardened.
“Don’t leave,” she begged softly. “Stay here and be with me.” Her hands lifted and cupped his face. “Your place is here.”
He lifted his head, met her stare in the moonlight. “Why? So I can take my father’s place?”
Her question filled her gaze before she uttered, “Would that be so bad?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” His lips quirked with a half smile. “You don’t love me,” he said. “You just love your idea of me. The idea of me being my father.”
Gloria frowned. “That’s not true.”
He backed away and fixed his clothes. “This could never work. We could never work.” It hurt like hell to watch the tears surface in her eyes, but this was something he had to do. “Goodbye, Gloria.”
Chapter 18
Monday morning, Gloria returned to work looking as if she’d spent the whole weekend crying—which she had. What was left of Harmon’s skeletal crew had all steered clear of her and her noticeable mood swings. At lunchtime, everyone gathered into the break room to watch Clint Hardy announce his run for congressional office.
Gloria’s heart twisted in disappointment, but it was time to concede her defeat—in more ways than one. Before she knew it, her mind tangled with thoughts of Malcolm despite her constant vows not to think of him. Her mind replayed every moment they’d spent together since Harmon’s death.
In a way, she could understand why Malcolm believed her feelings extended to just his political potential. What else could he have thought when every time she opened her mouth she was urging him to continue his father’s legacy? Did she onc
e stop to appreciate who Malcolm Braddock was—his hard dedication to his own beliefs in what was right and wrong?
She should have told him every chance she could about how much she admired his work and kind heart. Malcolm was an intelligent and caring man—who’d give anyone the shirt off his back if they were in need. Why did she have to badger him right on the heels of his incredible loss?
No. She’d made him feel like he wasn’t good enough, his work wasn’t good enough, when he already did more than most.
The press conference ended and a news anchor went on to report something about Stewart Industries when Mabel touched her on the shoulder.
“Ms. Kingsley, are you all right?”
Gloria blinked out of her reverie and noticed that the break room had emptied out. She hung an awkward smile on her face as she cleared her throat. “Yes, yes. I just had a lot of things on my mind. I better get back to work.”
While most things were at a standstill until the district elected their new congressman, it didn’t stop the overwhelming amount of paperwork from flowing in. Lawmakers and their constituents faxed and shipped in proposals while taxpayers mailed and e-mailed complaints or praises about one thing or another—and Gloria still received a few letters and cards of condolences for their previous representative.
Now, within minutes of Hardy’s announcement, Gloria’s phone started ringing off the hook. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to be the first on the new representative’s schedule—whoever it might be.
Gloria welcomed anything that would keep her busy—anything that would prevent her from obsessing over how much she missed what she never had with Malcolm. Sometime around two o’clock, her head started to ache and her stomach growled. A small reminder that she’d worked through lunch.
At the rap on her door, Gloria barked, “Come in,” without looking up.
Mabel poked her head into the office. “Mail,” she said, breezing inside and then dropping a thick stack of envelopes on the desk.
“Thanks,” Gloria said, still refusing to make eye contact.
“I also brought you this.” Mabel set an orange and a granola bar down on the desk. “Even Superman had to eat.”
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