by Dez Burke
A month before our wedding I booked a cabin for two weeks for our honeymoon at a secluded area of the lake. The places had always been special to me and now it was to Jasalyn also.
Chapter 36: Jasalyn
The next few months went by in a blur. There were wedding cakes to order, a dinner to plan, dress fittings, and so many other things that had to be done. It was the night before our wedding and I could hardly believe that in less than twenty four hours I was going to be a married woman. I kissed Alex goodbye, but didn’t want to leave. He held my hands tight and I smiled as I looked at them. They would be together forever. Our skin colors might be different, but at the heart and soul of the matter we were one, and tomorrow we would make it official.
Mama insisted that I had to stay with her the night before our wedding. She said it only made sense, because I would need her help getting ready anyway. When I complained, she reminded me that back in her day it was considered bad luck to see the groom the night before your wedding. I sighed and gave into her. After all, what was one night apart when we were going to spend the rest of our lives together?
I was a little nervous because Alex’s mom and uncle were flying in from Colorado for the wedding. It would be the first time Alex’s parents had seen each other since their divorce. I prayed that they wouldn’t make a scene.
The next morning I didn’t even have time to catch my breath. The time flew by with hair, nails, makeup, and dressing. I barely had time to eat a bite of breakfast before Mama was pulling me back upstairs to fix me up some more, but it was worth it. By the time she was done with me, I was a stunning bride. My dress had been custom made to fit. It was a traditional white gown, with a long trail that my little cousins would carry for me as I walked down the aisle.
I held tight to Daddy’s arm when he walked me down the aisle. My hands were shaking. I knew that it was silly to be nervous, but I couldn’t help it. The church was even more beautiful than I imagined it would be, and at the end of the aisle was the man, my man, who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
As I walked down the aisle I grinned like a fool. My mind raced with possibilities of the life ahead for us. I knew it wasn’t all going to be easy but that was life. We’d already climbed mountains together. I was sure that whatever life decided to throw our way, we’d beat it, as long as we were together.
THE END
***
To Hold and To Heal
Copyright 2013 Naomi Lecroy
Chapter One
The music in the club was a little too loud, but Nice had drunk just enough not to care. Instead she found herself whooping and screeching with laughter right along with her best friend Peggy who had dragged her to the club in the first place. The air was hot and tight on the dance floor as she swung her hips with reckless abandon to the beat pounding from the speakers.
Sweat pooled between her breasts and ran down her back where her loose hair stuck to it. The synthetic material of her short gold dress hugged her curves, but didn’t breathe at all. She liked it because it complimented the caramel color of her skin. Even though it made her look like a delicious candy package, she was confident in the fact that no one in this bar was looking at her. Attractive as she was, the guys in this scene were more interested in each other.
“I told you we would have fun!” yelled Peggy, grabbing her shoulder to shout directly into her ear. Even so, Nice barely heard over the crash of the music.
“Yeah! I guess you were right!” Nice shouted back. “I’m burning up though. I’m going to get something to drink!”
Peggy nodded her head in confirmation as Nice twisted off the dance floor, snaking through bodies. Finally free of their crush she took a deep breath. The air was instantly cooler. She smiled and pushed her hair back. Tonight wasn’t so bad after all.
The day had started out disastrous when she’d received a notice from the bank that they were foreclosing on her father’s bar so when Peg called to beg her to come out dancing she wasn’t exactly in the mood for bar-hopping.
“Besides,” she’d argued. “Who goes dancing on a Wednesday night? And where?”
“First off, stop being all strong black woman and live a little,” Peggy replied. “You need this. Secondly, there’s a club just outside of town open tonight.”
Nice rolled her eyes which Peggy couldn’t see over the phone. “I don’t think so. I’m not in the mood to be eye fucked by every guy I pass. I get enough of that at work.”
Peggy sighed. “Look, you’re going. This is the only night you have off until next week. I’m not going to take no for answer. It’s the perfect place. Trust me, no one will be even remotely interested in you. I’ll be at your door at nine to pick you up. Wear something slutty, tramp!”
Before Nice could respond, Peggy had already hung up the phone. She hated to admit it, but Peggy was right. Staying home wouldn’t solve her problems and besides, what could one night hurt? She caked her face with makeup and poured her body into the gold halter dress. It was the only thing she owned that would qualify as club worthy. She was curling her hair when Peg arrived ten minutes after nine to pick her up.
It didn’t take long for Nice to realize what kind of club they were going to. Or at least what kind of place it was on Wednesday nights. From the doorman in drag to the wealth of handsome men that didn’t bat an eye at her, it was clear that this was the gayest place in town and Nice was just fine with that.
Now, hours later she was happy she’d come. As she approached the bar, she became aware of a dull ache in her feet. Maybe she should have worn flats. The stiletto heels were killing her!
She smiled at the bartender. He was an attractive black man with ink black hair cut short in perfect tight little curls, dressed in jeans and a too tight t-shirt. He smiled back when she slid onto one of the empty stools.
“Oh honey, where did you get your work done? You look positively passable!”
Nice swallowed the angry remark, remembering where she was. Truth was, she had gone a little overboard with the make up. With all her curls no doubt sweated out and her make up probably streaky she supposed she might look a little queen-y.
“Um, sorry blue fairy I’m already a real girl,” she finally said with a smile on her face.
The bartender’s eyes widened and for a moment she thought she had offended him. She felt her stomach drop, but then he laughed. “Bitch got jokes! What will it be honey?”
“I’ll just have a beer,” she said, returning his laughter with a chuckle.
The bartender gasped “A beer? Not at my bar, darling! Look, we gonna hook you up good.”
She thought to protest but then, why bother? She placed her small clutch purse on the bar while the bartender went about the business of making her something special to drink. She heard a deep throaty chuckle to her left. Nice looked out the corner of her eye at a man she hadn’t seen before.
His green eyes were locked on her and she wondered how the hell she hadn’t noticed him. He was drop dead gorgeous. Strawberry blonde hair fell over his forehead framing his eyes. His nose was slightly crooked as if it had been broken at some point but that didn’t distract from the strong line of his jaw. His lips were pulled into a half smile. He sat with his chin cupped in his hand, the other curled around a tumbler full of ice and amber liquid.
Nice blinked, regaining her composure. “What’s so damn funny over there chuckles?” she asked letting an edge creep into her voice. It was clear that this guy wasn’t one of the boys.
He ignored it. “Well, your retort there was pretty clever for one. And for two, I find it hilarious that he could mistake such a beautiful woman for a man. Let me buy you that fancy drink he’s taking so much time to blend up.”
“Ha! Nice try cowboy. But no, not interested. Retort? What kind of a word is that?” She rolled her eyes, turning away as the bartender placed a milky off white concoction on the napkin in front of her. “What’s this?”
“Hey bartender! I’ll buy that drink for her,”
the man offered.
“No! No he won’t,” Nice shot back. “I can buy my own drink, thank you.”
The bartender looked back and forth between the two. His gaze settled on the man sitting across from Nice. “You’ll love the drink honey. It’s a Screaming Orgasm and,” he turned to Nice smiling wickedly, “it’s on the house.” He winked knowingly before sashaying down the bar to help the next customer.
This is what happens at clubs, she reminded herself. Turning to the man next to her, she gave him a tired smile and tried to explain. “Look, I’m just not interested. I came out here to dance with my friend. I’m not trying to hook up. We’re only here to have some fun. Nothing personal.”
The man’s eyes widened, his demeanor changed from casual to embarrassed. “I’m sorry, ma’am! I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was trying to take you home! I just thought we could talk for a bit. That’s all. While you finished drinking whatever you’re having.” He waved a hand at her glass.
“Talk? Really? You expect me to believe that? What are you even doing here? The only straight guys who come to gay clubs are vultures for the hags.”
He shrugged. “I’m from out of town. I’m only here for the night. I didn’t know where else to go to get a drink. And I could be gay. How do you know I’m not?”
Nice looked him up and down. “Oh, I know for damn sure you’re not gay. I already caught you checking out my tits. If you only needed a drink, I think the mini bar in your hotel might’ve been a better option.”
A blush rose to his cheeks. He stammered. “I apologize for checking you out. You’re a very pretty girl.”
Nice waved her hand, dismissing it. “Whatever. So what was wrong with the mini bar then?”
He smiled and cleared his throat trying to regain his composure. “One, they charge $18 for a beer and two, I don’t particularly like beer.”
Nice lifted her eyebrows at him. “A man who doesn’t like beer? Definitely not from around here.” She picked up her drink and sucked on the straw letting the liquor fill her belly. A little too much vodka, she thought to herself but still, not bad.
“Yes ma’am, I’m from Maine originally,” he said casually, picking up his drink and finishing it off.
“Oh, they extra polite up there? Ma’am? I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before. Do I look that old?”
He thought for a moment. “No, I guess that’s something I picked up in the Army.”
“What the fuck are you doing down here in Florida then? One night business trip in Tampa? How mysterious!”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve got to take care of something in a small town nearby. Basket Carry. You know it?”
Nice laughed. “Nobody comes to this part of Florida for anything. Let alone Basket Carry. It’s halfway between armpit and ass crack.”
He frowned. “Well I do. I’ve got some personal business to see to and you’ve got quite a mouth on you for such a pretty lady.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, is that a fucking problem for you? Oh shit, I’m sorry, I fucking did it again.” She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. The alcohol was already getting to her, she’d always been a light weight. She started to put the drink down, but then changed her mind. It wasn’t as if this was going anywhere.
He laughed. “I’ve heard worst. I’m Al,” he said, holding out his hand.
She laughed and took it. His hand was hot and dry against hers, dwarfing her own. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath stilled. His green eyes were locked onto hers, for a moment, questioning. His thumb stroked her knuckles. Heat rose to her cheeks as butterflies began in her stomach. She pulled her hand away slowly already missing the heat of him. “Ann,” she stumbled out.
He nodded. “Ann,” he repeated as if tasting the name.
His eyes were still locked on hers. She felt exposed and vulnerable. Turning away quickly she picked up her drink. “So, what’s this business you’re here about?” she asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence between them.
He shook his head and looked away. “Just something I need to do for an old friend.”
“Sounds like you’re putting flowers on a grave or something,” she said absentmindedly.
“Something like that.”
The intensity in his eyes shattered her. This was not what she came out for. “Well, I should get back to my friend. It was nice talking to you Al.”
He looked regretful for a moment and then it faded. “You’re not going to finish your drink?” he asked, pointing at the half empty glass.
“No. I think I’ve had enough as it is,” she said, pushing it away. “Never been much of a drinker.”
He nodded and stood awkwardly. For the first time she noticed the silver tipped cane hanging from the bar.
“Oh you don’t have to get up!”
He smiled. “A gentleman always stands up when a lady leaves.” He grasped her hand in his. “It was nice talking to you, Ann.”
There was a small smile playing around his lips. The heat from his hands radiated up her arm. He made no move to release her hand.
She motioned toward his leg. “What happened?”
He shrugged, half dismissing the question. “An accident while I was in the Army. It’s nothing.”
A rowdy crowd left the dance floor and surged towards the bar. Someone’s elbow pushed into Nice’s back. Losing her balance on the tiny bar stool, she tripped forward into him. He let go of her hand to catch her with both arms.
Letting out a soft sound as she landed against him, she felt him shift and compensate for her added weight on his good leg. His arms wrapped around her back and she could hear her heart beat in her ears.
His scent filled her nostrils. He smelled of soap and aftershave with a hint of sweat underneath, not unpleasant. Placing her hands on his chest with the intention of pushing away she was stilled by the feeling of hard muscle under the soft fabric of his t-shirt. The heat of him engulfed her, rushing through her blood stream.
She was painfully aware of his hand on her back. It felt like a torch through the thin fabric of her dress. His left hand moved up, above the fabric to the exposed skin of her shoulder blades, steadying her.
She glanced up, catching his green eyes on fire. It looked like he would devour her at any moment and God help her she wanted him to. He ran his fingers of his left hand down her back and she shivered as her breathing quickened and the rest of the world fell away.
Vaguely, she was aware of the bartender returning to serve the group that had just arrived, but it all seemed so distant. There was only this man and his heat. There was also something oddly familiar about him.
“Have we met before? You don’t look like an Al,” she mumbled. Her voice sounded heavy in her own ears.
“No, never. And you’re not fooling me for a minute. I don’t think you’re an Ann,” he replied, his own voice husky as he leaned forward, closing the distance between them, drawing her even closer.
The touch of his lips was a shock. They brushed hers softly, questioning, testing. She pushed against him, letting her arms wrap around his neck, filling what little space was left between their bodies with her breasts and belly. He gripped her back tighter, parting her lips with his own, his tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting of bourbon, coaxing hers into action. She returned his kiss, losing herself to the pleasure of his touch. Her body flooded with warmth and she felt her own wetness begin to seep into her panties as his hand traveled from her lower back to cup her ample bottom.
“Hey! You totally ditched me, Nice!” A voice yelled over the noise of the crowd.
In the back of her mind she thought she recognized it, that it meant something, but she was lost in his energy.
“Hey! Oh!”
Nice turned and there was Peggy grinning widely at them. Nice looked back at Al and pushed hard away from him. He dropped his arms immediately, a hurt expression on his face. She stumbled backwards into the man who had originally pushed her. Al reached for her to kee
p her from falling, catching her arm just in time. Once she was steady, he immediately let go.
“Looks like someone’s had too much the drink!” The man laughed as he took his drink off the bar and walked away.
“Peggy lets go!” Nice half shouted, walking quickly over to her friend.
Peggy twisted her face into a confused expression. “Why? We’re having fun. Did that guy do something? I’ll call security!”
Nice gripped Peggy’s arm. “No, it’s fine, he was a perfect gentleman. I’ve just had too much to drink. I need to go home and lie down.” She turned back to Al, who was still standing at the bar, his hand slightly raised as if to reach out to stop her. “Come on, Peg. Let’s go,” she said as she half dragged Peggy toward the exit.
Once outside she stopped and took deep gulping breaths. The air was hot and heavy around them.
“Mind telling me what the fuck that was all about in there? Because if that guy tried something…” Peggy started.
“No, he didn’t try anything. I just need to get home. I told you, I’ve had too much to drink.” She started walking toward the car.
“That’s not what it looked like to me. You two looked mighty cozy in there. I thought for a second that my little Nice was going to actually be nice to someone if you know what I mean…” Peggy said, following close behind her.
“I just tripped. That’s all. I told you. Too. Much. To. Drink. That’s all there was.” Someone shouted behind her. Calling a name.
“Just tripped right into that kiss huh?” Peggy teased. “Wish I could trip into somebody that sexy.”
Nice recognized the name being called out, but couldn’t place it. She really HAD drank too much. “Yeah, I don’t know…” she trailed off as the man called out the name again. Ann. Right, that’s me, she thought to herself.
She turned to face the sound. Al was walking towards her, cane in hand, a pronounced limp on his left leg. He waved her clutch purse in the air. She looked back at Peggy who frowned at her. “Maybe you have had too much to drink. You never forget your purse.”