Taming Mr. Charming (The Taming Series Book 2)

by Nia Arthurs

  What if Caitlyn’s reentrance into his life was a sign that his time with me was up?

  Okay Big Daddy, I need a little heart surgery here. Perfect love casts out fear. I don’t need to be insecure or afraid. Show me how to love myself the way that you love me.

  Amen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Mia?” Peyton’s voice called out in the foliage around me.

  I debated not answering but he’d find me anyway.

  “I’m here.” I replied and in the next minute, Peyton was rounding the cobblestone path to where I reclined on the wooden seat.

  “Are you okay?” He asked me lightly, coming to sit in the seat next to me.

  “I don’t know,” I said facing the dark outlines of the roses. He sat silently for a few beats until I spoke up.

  “When I was five, my mom put me in ballet lessons.”

  In the dim glow of the moonlight, I could see Peyton’s wrinkled forehead and confused expression.

  “Okaay…” He dragged out the word.

  I turned to him, “I was in ballet for three years and when I was eight years old, my school had a talent competition. So I practiced really hard every day on my routine and I entered the talent show and I gave it my all.”

  “Did you win?” Peyton prompted when I paused.

  “No, I didn’t. I got second place.”

  “That’s still good.” He encouraged.

  “I know it was,” I tipped my head slightly, “But I lost. I remember that I was really upset about it. And that feeling of anger and disappointment never left me even when I grew up.”

  “I’m sorry, babe.”

  He grasped my hand but I held his limply and continued, “I realized that day after the show that I’m really competitive. And I hated losing. I really hated it. I figured that the best way to never lose, to never feel that way again was to stop competing.”

  “What does this have to do with why you’re wandering my backyard by yourself?” Peyton inquired softly.

  I shifted my body so that I faced him completely, “I don’t like to compete, Peyton… because I don’t like to lose. I’m not angry that you have a history with Caitlyn. If you knew the things I’ve done, you’d see how hypocritical it would be for me to judge you for where you’ve been.” I paused, licked my lips.

  “Mia,” he began but I interrupted.

  “Let me finish. It was hard to trust you, but you won me over because you’re a man of integrity. And I know that you always tell me the truth.” I glanced at him and lowered my voice, feeling emotions clog my words, I croak, “Peyton, if you think that there’s a part of you that may still have feelings for Caitlyn. If seeing her tonight and knowing that she’s available impacts you, then please let me know and I’ll, I’ll step back and I’ll let you choose her-”

  “Mia, don’t talk like that.” he scooted closer, his face inches from mine, his blue eyes shrouded in sincerity. “I love you. I love only you. Caitlyn and I dated for over two years and I can’t erase that time. But I was a different man back then, living a different kind of life. Today, I’m a new person and I choose you. I will always choose you, Mia.”

  I closed my eyes as my heart thudded painfully in my ears. Tears formed in my eyes, but I refused to let them drop. Peyton noted my struggle and tugged me into his chest as he rubbed my back.

  “You better be telling the truth, Peyton Lowry.” I said, my voice heavy with emotion, “Because I love you so much.” I admitted, “I love you so much that it scares me and it makes me feel weak and vulnerable and exposed.”

  “Sh,” Peyton calmed me down, rocking me in his arms. “I love you too, Mia. I’ve loved you for so long.”

  I lifted my head and met his lips in a hungry kiss that was peppered with my tears. Peyton’s hand cradled the back of my neck and I fisted my fingers in his collar. He deepened the kiss and my tears came to a slow halt though the thudding in my heart had accelerated. I started smiling and giggling so much that I threw of the rhythm of our kiss.

  “What?” Peyton asked, drawing me close.

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” I grinned. I probably looked like some kind of horror house princess the way my mascara was running down my face right now but I didn’t care.

  “Try,” Peyton urged, wiping away the black streams with his thumb.

  I shrugged, “You’ve spoiled me for life.”

  He cocked his head in uncertainty.

  I kissed him briefly, keeping my eyes closed, “Your taste… its yours and its good and no one else can compare to it.”

  Peyton looked very pleased with my confession.

  “You just inspired me to say something really cheesy so buck up.”

  I smiled as he drew me close again, “I was reading a book by that Myles guy-”

  “You read?” I gasped in mock surprise.

  “Very funny,” he flicked my arm, “I was reading his book and it said something about desire.”

  “Oh,” I stammered.

  “Yeah,” I could hear the smile in Peyton’s voice, “He said that ‘desire is craving enough to sacrifice for’.”

  “Hm,” I mused.

  Peyton scooted away so that he could look at me, “I don’t want to freak you out, but that’s the way that I feel about you. I crave you enough that I’d sacrifice… anything… if it meant that you’d be happy.”

  I looked down, “Okay, I’m a little freaked out.”

  Peyton laughed, “Want to go back inside?”

  “Can we sneak in? I want to reapply my makeup before I step foot in your Mama’s house and everyone runs away in fear.”

  “Sure,” Peyton agreed, “But I just want you to know that you look beautiful to me. Like a gorgeous Halloween goblin.”

  “Did you just call me a goblin?” I said with attitude. I pushed against his shoulder.

  We continued on our path to the house and Peyton slipped me in through the side entrance near the laundry room. I started to open the door and realized that Peyton wasn’t behind me. I turned around in the darkness. He hadn’t put on the light.

  “What are you doing? Let’s go!” I hissed.

  I could hear the tease in his voice, “Wanna make out?”

  I laughed, “No, Peyton Lowry, I do not want to make out in here.”

  “I warned you that this was coming.”

  He grabbed my waist, “And what if somebody opens the door and catches us making out like a bunch of hormonal teenagers?”

  “Come on. It’s a laundry closet. Nobody’s going to come in here?”

  I grinned wide and allowed him to draw me in as I linked my arms behind his neck and…

  The door burst open and the lights blazed on.

  “Ah!” I screamed.

  “Ah!” Pamela screamed.

  “Ah!” Caitlyn screamed.

  “Whoo!” Cried dirty great-uncle Stewart.

  I squinted against the sudden flood of light and stepped behind Peyton.

  “What are you two doing in here?” Pamela cried, “You scared the daylights out of me.”

  Uncle Stewart grinned, showing his strangely white and full set of teeth, “You know what they were doing in there, Pamela.” He said winking at me.

  Ew

  Caitlyn stepped back, “You know what Pamela, on second thought I think I’ll just catch a cab and go home.”

  She walked away from our closet party. Uncle Stewart tried to shift into the small room and press against me. Something was really wrong with that old man. I shifted closer to Peyton. If the man had pulled a stunt like that in Belize, I would have kicked his butt.

  “Peyton, I know that you and Caitlyn have a history but Stewart spilled wine on her dress and she lives so far away and I thought maybe she could stay the night.”

  “No way, Ma. Nope. Let her go. Send her on her way with a doggie bag.”

  “Wait,” I stepped in front of Peyton, “If it’s safer for her to stay here then let her stay.”

  Peyton raised his eyebrows
, “Mia, you don’t have to feel sorry for her. And she’s not necessarily the best at hearing the word ‘no’. I don’t trust her.”

  “Well, I trust you,” I grinned at him, “Besides, you’re mine and from the look on her face just now, she knows it.”

  Pamela kissed my cheek, “You’re a doll, Mia. I’ll go get Caitlyn before she leaves. Come on, Stewart.”

  “No,” The old man said stubbornly.

  Pamela grabbed his hand and led him away, “Let the kids get back to what they were doing.”

  Peyton cringed and I hid a smirk behind my hand. The pair left and locked the door behind them. I turned toward Peyton and burst out laughing,

  “Let’s make out in the closet, he said. Nobody’s going to come in here, he said.”

  Peyton rubbed at his eyes, “I had no idea that was going to happen.”

  “Your mom’s face,” I gasped on my amusement, “I know this isn’t funny. She probably thinks that we’re…” I choked on a bark of laughter, “and we’re not but…”

  “You are crazy.” Peyton rolled his eyes but a smile flirted with his mouth and I knew he was not immune to the irony of the situation.

  He captured my hand as we broke free of the closet, “You nervous about Caitlyn staying over?” I asked when I’d calmed down. “You don’t think she’ll try anything do you?”

  “Try anything like what?”

  “I don’t know. Some more catty remarks, murder, crawl into your bed at night and kiss you right at the moment when I come in to say good night thus unraveling the fragile thread of our relationship?”

  Peyton froze and surveyed me like I was crazy, “Okay… it sounds like you’ve given this some thought.”

  “Well,” I sniffed, “I watch a lot of romantic comedies and Lifetime Movies. Based on my research, the ex-girlfriend is usually the one that seduces the guy but she does it right when the current girlfriend is entering the room. The exes are crafty like that.”

  Peyton chuckled, “Sounds like soundproof research to me.”

  I nodded, “Yes, I’m looking into more funding so that I can expand in my field.”

  Chucking my chin lightly, Peyton remarked, “Well, if you’re all that worried about Caitlyn seducing me, you could stay in my room and protect me tonight. I’ll behave.”

  “Haha, nice try, buddy. I’m sleeping in my own room thank you very much. But if I do walk in on you two, I’m aiming for you first. Not her.”

  Peyton swallowed, “Uh, duly noted.”

  He followed me up to my room and sat on the bed.

  “What are you doing? Why don’t you go back downstairs?” I asked my hunky boyfriend.

  He leaned back on his extended arms, “I’ll stay right here and watch my girl put on her makeup.”

  I shrugged. Whatever. It wasn’t like Peyton was a stranger to my naked face. I trekked into the bathroom and washed off the powder and foundation. Then I took baby wipes and removed my lipstick, mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow. Strutting like a model, I struck a pose in the doorway of the lit bathroom. Peyton glanced at me and let out a shout of horror.

  “Who art thou and what have you done with my gorgeous girlfriend?”

  “Very funny,” I joked, throwing one of the dirty wipes at him.

  “Gross. It’s wet.” Peyton flung the cleanser off of his arm.

  “Serves you right for insulting me.” I sat before the small dresser with my makeup supplies scattered about and my battery lighted mirror in the center. Peyton stepped up beside me.

  “Can I do it?”

  I arched an eyebrow, “You want to do my makeup? Right now? When there’s a party going on downstairs?”

  He shrugged and slowly slid out of his jacket. “Can you think of something else to do in here?” He asked with a wicked smile.

  I quickly handed him a foundation brush. “Go for it. I’ll just fix it when you’re done.”

  Peyton stooped in front of me. “Now which one of these thingamajigs should I use first?”

  I groaned good-naturedly. This was going to be torture.

  Thankfully, after stabbing me in the eye, twice, Peyton relinquished the makeup duties to me. I quickly did what I needed to do and stood so that we could rejoin the adults downstairs. The guests had whittled down to a little over forty people. Peyton and I took a seat in the hall, decorated with fancy brown tables, table cloths actually made from cloth, and iron wrought chairs. This was a far cry from my father’s event on the lawn of the Black Orchids Resort. I didn’t see Uncle Stewart anywhere around and breathed sigh of relief. There was only so much of that man that I could take.

  Peyton settled me into a seat and then sat beside me. I spotted Caitlyn eyeing us across the room. She’d changed into something from Mrs. Pamela’s closet but she was no less striking. It was hard not to compare myself to her, but I did my best.

  “So Peyton,” His aunt Margaret spoke up, “How did you two meet.”

  “Yeah, I really want to know,” His cousin, a short bright eyed brunette piped in.

  The rest of the guests in the hall leaned in to hear what we had to say. I looked awkwardly at Peyton. He pointed at me, rejecting all story telling responsibilities.

  The traitor

  “Well, uh, we met when he came to Belize with Spencer.”

  I nodded slightly to show that the story time was over.

  “That’s it?” A random person that I hadn’t been introduced to quipped.

  “Uh yeah. We met the way anyone would meet. It’s pretty boring actually.”

  “I have a question,” a family friend remarked, a drink in his hand, “Are all the Belizean girls so beautiful?”

  I ducked my head as everyone laughed, “I’m sure you already know the answer to that.” I said lightly.

  Aunt Margaret shot another question at us, “So, are interracial relationships common in your country, Mia? Have you two experienced any racist comments?”

  I froze, feeling my face heat up though no one could detect a blush beneath the dark skin.

  Peyton spoke up, “You all know me. I just shake off the opinions of others.”

  “You haven’t answered the question, Peyton.” His cousin redirected the conversation.

  Peyton looked at my downturned face and shook his head, “Ignorance is everywhere, not only in Belize. Have we met some … resistance? I’ll admit the answer is yes. But that just makes me more certain that she’s worth it, whatever ignorance we face.”

  “Aww,” The women cooed and I squeezed his hand for his tactful handling of the questions.

  “I’d never have thought that you’d go for a black girl.” The tinny voice originated from the other side of the room where Caitlyn nursed a drink.

  “Excuse me?” Aunt Margaret echoed what I was thinking.

  Caitlyn raised her eyebrows innocently, “Don’t mind me. I’m just surprised that Peyton feels that way. I mean,” She giggled, “He loved to run his hands through my hair. Can you run your hand through her hair, Peyton?”

  “Girl, you better shut your mouth.” Aunt Margaret stood. She was a beefy woman and was probably the width of four Caitlyns standing side by side.

  “Okay, okay,” Caitlyn saluted us with a toast, “I was just joking, everybody. Calm down.”

  As the conversation moved on, Mrs. Lowry quietly stepped up to Caitlyn and spoke to her in private. I kept my eye on them as I tuned back in to the topic of football that the rest of the family was discussing. I saw Caitlyn shake her head and get up to leave. I was sad to see her go. As a fellow woman suffering from insecurities I recognized the symptoms when I saw them. But a part of me felt very warm knowing that Pamela had stuck up for me so valiantly. The differences between the way my family and the way his family viewed our relationship was so blaring, it hurt my head to think about. Maybe one day, my folks would reach that level of tolerance.

  Maybe someday.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Melody’s graduation was short and sweet with my girl strutting her stuff dow
n the middle aisle in her gown and cap when the fancy music played. I was so proud of her. Mel had worked really hard to get this degree and she deserved every minute of glory. The only reason I didn’t get up and holler for her the way that I wanted to was because all the white people around me were clapping politely and I didn’t want to embarrass my best friend in front of all these proud families. Had she been graduating in Belize, all hell would break loose. I’d be stamping my feet and whistling like a hoodlum.

  After the graduation, I finally got to meet some of Mel’s American friends, especially the renowned Susan. She joined us on the second leg of our graduation celebration. The guys drove us to an Italian bistro called ‘Lliani’s’. There was a line going out the door and down the street. I gave Mel an incredulous look when Peyton parked the car near the establishment, got out, and led us to the cute little restaurant. I’m not a ‘small’ woman by any definition of the word. I may not be overweight thanks to the blessing that is high metabolism, but mama likes her food and eating it on time. The thought of waiting hours just to be seated did not appeal to me.

  To my surprise, however, Peyton and Spencer simply walked past all the people waiting in line and stepped right up to the hostess, a short, round Latina. As the woman spotted our group, her eyes got so wide I thought they’d pop right out and roll to the floor.

  “Spencer! Peyton! Melody!” She cried, a Spanish accent tinting her words. She then rounded the podium and proceeded to throw herself at each one of them, squeezing them until the life breath left their bodies for a minute. “It’s been too long, too long!” she exclaimed.

  Spencer stepped up, hopefully to protect Susan and I from such an assault and then introduced us.