by Kayla Perrin
She was both anxious and excited about seeing Malcolm again. She’d cooked a special meal for him that triggered another bout of tears. She’d used one of the recipes from her mom’s book. For sentimental reasons, she’d planned to make the spicy mac & cheese. But then she decided on her mother’s beef stir-fry.
She hoped Malcolm liked it. But most of all she hoped she’d done her mother justice.
Just before six-thirty, the doorbell rang. She walked to the door, and with shaking hands, smoothed her palms over her outfit. When Tasia had gone shopping for groceries earlier, she’d stopped by Aventura Mall and bought a form-fitting, low-cut red top and a pair of jeans that fit snugly and highlighted her curves. Casual, yet with a definite sex appeal. Add to that the bouncy curls she’d styled in her hair, along with dramatic eye makeup and lipstick, and she looked better than she had in a long time. Typically when she went to work, she put her hair up, and kept her face bare. There was no need to get all stylish in the kitchen. But now, she had someone she wanted to impress. And she hoped that he would be.
Swallowing her nerves, Tasia swung open the door. As she glanced up at Malcolm, her breath caught in her throat. He was dressed more casually than he had been yesterday, wearing faded denim jeans and a white cotton t-shirt, yet he looked even sexier. How was that possible?
“Hey,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Malcolm didn’t speak immediately—his admiring gaze raked her from head to toe. When he was finished, he whistled softly. “Wow. You look amazing.”
Heat rushed to Tasia’s cheeks and spread down to her neck. “Thank you. I was tired of looking like a bum. I went to the mall, cleared my head between packing. Did a little retail therapy.”
She said that to imply she hadn’t gotten this outfit—nor dolled up—for his benefit. But of course, she was lying.
Malcolm slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. A startled gasp escaped her. And then he planted his lips on hers, soft, sweet, seductive.
“Hello,” he said huskily as he eased back.
Tasia’s body flushed with heat. And when he pressed his lips against her forehead, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and pull him into the bedroom.
Desire raged inside of her with the force of a category five hurricane. She wanted him. And that startled her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so turned on that she wanted to throw caution to the wind and get naked with a man.
But while Tasia had high hopes for some serious romance, she wanted to get through dinner first, which she’d made especially for him and to honor her mother. So she eased back and said, “In addition to my shopping, I did manage to get a fair bit of packing done.”
“I see that,” Malcolm said, looking beyond her to the packed boxes stacked in the living room. “You accomplished a lot.”
Tasia nodded. “Yeah,” she said with a catch in her voice. A wave of the same bittersweet emotions she’d felt while going through her mother’s things hit her again. “Once I started, I wanted to get as much done as possible. It was harder than I thought, smelling her favorite perfume on her clothes, folding her pretty blouses and scarves.” She’d cried the entire time she went through her mother’s belongings. “It felt like she was still here.” All those memories were crushing under the weight of the reality that her mother was truly gone.
“She is here,” Malcolm stressed. “I know it doesn’t feel like that right now, but your mother’s spirit is still here, still with you.”
Tasia inhaled a shaky breath. She wanted to believe that, but wasn’t sure she did. Besides, what good did it do having her mother here in spirit if she could never talk to her, never hear her voice again?
“If you want to take a break, just tell me what needs to be done. I get that it can be overwhelming.”
How was he so completely in tune with her needs? He continued to impress her more and more. “Thank you,” Tasia said, and placed a hand on his arm. His skin was warm and smooth, his muscles strong. The heat she felt was instantaneous, and she quickly pulled her hand back, shocked by the thought that she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Malcolm’s embrace.
But why should she be shocked? She knew his touch would soothe her, make her forget her pain, even if only for a short time.
“That’s a very sweet offer,” Tasia said. “I’ll let you know.”
Malcolm’s gaze wandered, and Tasia followed his line of sight into the corner of the dining room. “I can’t believe how many plate sets my mother had. I figured I’d at least pack up the older ones. I’ll donate them, maybe to a food shelter. Mrs. Campbell left with two big bags of shoes.”
“Really?”
“She said she would give some away to friends but I wouldn’t be surprised if she kept them all.” She grinned at Malcolm. “Mom had a great sense of style.”
“As does her baby girl.” He tilted his head and gave her a lazy, sexy smile.
She blushed again and changed the subject. “Well, little by little, it’s getting done.”
“And then it’s back to Atlanta,” Malcolm said, his lips tightening.
“It’s where my life is,” Tasia replied.
“Have you given any thought to keeping this place? Even if it’s just for the memories?”
“The memories?” Tasia chuckled without mirth. “I can live without the memories from this house.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows quirked up. “You must have happy memories here with your mother, your family?”
Tasia hugged her torso as she started into the living room. “Yes, of course there were happy times. But … there was a lot of unhappiness as well. I’m not sure how much my mother told you.”
“I know she and your father divorced.”
Divorced. If only it had been as simple as that. An amicable parting after drifting apart. Sure, there had been early happy memories in this house, but they’d been marred by the ones that had followed after that awful day when her father had walked out on them.
“You want the truth?” Tasia sat on the sofa, gesturing for Malcolm to join her. “I’ve been looking forward to the day when I could finally say goodbye to this house. I wish my mother had sold it years ago, but she illogically held onto it.”
In fact, it was right after her father had left that Tasia had hoped her mother would move the family somewhere else. Anywhere else. She’d been humiliated at school, overhearing the whispers from her classmates about how she no longer had a father. Even at that young age, she’d felt different, ostracized. She’d wanted a fresh start. But her mother had decided against it.
Malcolm gave her an odd look. “What do you mean she illogically held onto it?”
“How can you be happy in a house where your father abandoned you? It wasn’t just that he left. He never came back, never wrote, or called or anything. For the first few months, he sent some money—as if that was his only obligation to us. But then even that stopped. It was like he erased us from his life. Like we were nothing. I mean, what kind of man does that to his own family? It killed my mother. She was never the same.”
Malcolm leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and regarded her with those intense hazel eyes. “What about now? You ever talk to your father?”
Tasia scoffed. “No. I don’t have a relationship with him.”
“You sound bitter.”
“How can I not be bitter?” she asked. “My father cheated on my mother, then he left us. That was bad enough, but he never stayed in touch, and gave only minimal child support. He made it clear he didn’t even care about his kids. Then he lost his other son—someone we never knew—and suddenly reached out to me and my brother after years of not being in our lives?”
“I guess losing one child made him think about you and your brother.”
Tasia scowled. “That’s what my brother says. And that’s why he decided to reconnect with him. My dad lives in Seattle now. He and his second wife divorced, and he moved there to be closer to my brother. I don�
��t know … Maybe boys need their fathers. He always missed my dad, and I think on some level he blamed my mother for pushing my dad away. He was seven when my father left. He didn’t fully understand that my dad’s decision had nothing to do with my mom. What hurt more is that I’m sure my father helped turn my brother against my mother to some degree. Andrew pulled away from Mom after he and my father reconnected.”
She shook her head as she remembered back to her phone call with her brother. “It was like pulling teeth to get him to visit her before she died. And let’s face it, he should be here now, helping me deal with our mother’s affairs. But it’s been nothing but excuses from him as to why he can’t spare the time. God only knows what my father told him. And it kills me that he’s just accepted a man who abandoned us without question.”
“Obviously he hurt you. Did you ever talk to your father when he reached out to you?”
“No,” Tasia said succinctly. Her father had left a couple of messages for her, having gotten her number from her brother, and she hadn’t called him back. “I’m not interested.” She got to her feet. “I need wine.”
She made her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of Merlot. As she raised the glass to take a sip, Malcolm walked in.
“I’m sorry I upset you by asking about your father.”
Tasia took another sip, letting the dry red wine sit on her tongue for a moment. “It is what it is. But now you know why I’m not keen on keeping this house.”
“I can definitely understand.”
She looked up at him and read the sincerity in his eyes. He truly did understand. He’d let her spill her thoughts and feelings without judgment, and was simply offering support, not a solution. She remembered when she’d confided in Rodney about her father. He gave her the line about how people made mistakes, that she shouldn’t hold her father’s actions against him. He couldn’t even see her side, acknowledge why she’d been hurt. Rodney had made her feel as though she was simply holding a grudge, without understanding she’d been devastated by her father’s abandonment. And once Rodney had effectively sided with her father, it had been clear that she couldn’t trust him with her deepest pain. And if she couldn’t trust him to be truly vulnerable with him, how could they ever have a future together?
“I just wish my mother had taken the money she’d spent on this kitchen and instead had gone on the vacation of her dreams. It’s certainly a beautiful kitchen, but …” Tasia’s voice trailed off as she ran her hand over the sleek granite counter top.
Malcolm gave Tasia’s shoulders a supportive squeeze. “I hear you. I know what those regrets feel like. I’ve been there.”
Tasia’s eyes widened as she looked at Malcolm. For the first time, she realized that she didn’t know much about him. She’d done most of the talking about her life and her loss, and he’d listened attentively.
“You have?” she asked.
“I was raised by a single mom, too. Unlike you, I never knew my dad, but I was able to connect with him later in life, and we patched things up. My mom died of cancer about a year later. That was ten years ago.”
“So she was young,” Tasia said.
“Forty-three. Breast cancer. And that was before my business became as successful as it is now, so yeah, when it comes to regrets, I know how you’re feeling. I wish I could have done so much more for her. She deserved it. Instead, she got a raw deal. She worked hard all of her life, then died way too young.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Tasia said, placing a hand on her heart. “Here I am going on about my life and not knowing that you went through something so painful yourself.”
“I’m just letting you know that I understand. I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”
Did he ever say the wrong thing?
“Perhaps it was because your mom had cancer, and mine did too, but I especially connected with her,” Malcolm went on. “In a way, she was like a surrogate mother to me. I tried to be there for her as much as I could.”
Tasia fought back her tears. She didn’t doubt that that was true. There was something extra special about Malcolm. A quiet strength. “Thank you for being there for Mom,” Tasia said, her lips trembling. “When she didn’t confide in me about her cancer, she turned to you. And I’m glad you were there for her.”
“Hey,” Malcolm said, wrapping his arms around her. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And don’t be sorry,” he told her, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a soothing motion. “You’re entitled to be emotional.”
“I just wish she’d told me.” Tasia said into his shoulder.
“She wanted to spare you. She did tell me that.” He held her tighter. “She knew you would be devastated about her diagnosis.”
“She was right.” Tasia stepped back and drew in a shaky breath trying to compose herself. “And had she told me sooner, I would have tried to find every possible way to save her, only to fail.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. Being in his arms had felt wonderful, but she’d wanted to be sexy and desirable tonight. Not emotional and weepy.
“Speaking of my mother …” She cleared her throat. “I made a recipe from her book,” Tasia announced, trying to inject lightness into her voice. “The beef stir-fry. If you’re ready to eat …”
“I’m famished,” he said, smiling at her.
Malcolm carried the plates to the table, while Tasia brought the food and wine. She was glad she’d picked up another couple of bottles of wine on her errands earlier. She was going to need at least a few glasses.
“To your mother,” Malcolm said, raising his glass.
Tasia clinked her glass against his. “To my mom.”
They sipped, then Malcolm picked up his fork and scooped up some of the stir-fry and rice.
Tasia watched him intently as he sampled it.
His eyes lit up. “This is good.”
She beamed. “I know, right? I followed the recipe to a T. It’s so weird to realize that my mother and I shared this passion, and I never knew it.”
“What have you decided about the TV show?” Malcolm asked.
Tasia swallowed her own mouthful of food. “Funny you should mention that. I spoke with the producer today. They’re really keen to have me on the show. She was very encouraging and understanding. And …” A smile touched Tasia’s lips. “I guess you giving me this recipe book was a sign. I want to do the show in Mom’s honor.”
Malcolm grinned at her. “Wonderful. I bet your mom’s smiling down at you right now. She’s proud of you.”
“I’d like to believe that,” Tasia said.
“Believe it,” Malcolm told her. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”
She reached for her wine glass and took a sip. She held Malcolm’s gaze as she did. Butterflies went crazy in her belly. It wasn’t just his looks, although he was damn attractive. It was how everything he said to her seemed to make her feel better.
“I’ve been getting a little stir crazy in this house,” Tasia admitted. “It’d be nice to get out and see Ocean Drive again. Check out the cuisine. Maybe we could—”
The sudden ringing of Malcolm’s cell phone was so loud that Tasia reeled backward. He quickly retrieved his smart phone from his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he made a face. Then he pushed his chair back and stood. “Excuse me. I have to take this call.”
Just like that, the moment between them had been broken. Tasia felt slightly deflated, even a little silly. Maybe asking Malcolm out was a bad idea.
He walked toward the front door, then stepped out onto the front porch. Tasia frowned, wondering who had called.
Through the bay window in the dining room she had a glimpse of him on the porch. He looked frustrated as he paced back and forth.
“This isn’t a good time, Michelle,” he said loudly.
Michelle?
Who the heck was Michelle?
Chapter 10
Tasia glanced down at her food, her appetite suddenly gone. M
ichelle. Was Malcolm actually involved with a woman? Had she completely misconstrued his interest in her?
No, of course she hadn’t. He’d kissed her. Which meant that if he was involved with someone else, he was a player.
Disillusionment settled over her like a wet blanket. Could no man be trusted to do the right thing? Not her father, not Rodney, not even her brother—and now, not even Malcolm? Damn it, why had she started to let her guard down with him?
Tasia watched Malcolm continue to pace on her front porch. As if he sensed her staring, he glanced into the house. Tasia quickly looked down at her plate and scooped up a mouthful of her meal, trying to make it look as though she hadn’t been paying keen attention to his phone call.
About thirty seconds later, Malcolm re-entered the house. Tasia looked up at him and smiled faintly. Then her stomach tightened with concern as she noticed that for the first time since she’d known him, he looked a bit frazzled.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“You mind if someone comes by to pick something up?”
“No,” Tasia told him. “Not at all.”
“Thanks.” Malcolm texted some information into his phone, then pocketed it. “Now back to this delicious dinner.”
That was it? Malcolm was going to continue eating without filling her in? Sure, she didn’t have any claims on him, but something had been building between them. Hadn’t it? Tasia wasn’t so delusional that she was imagining their connection.
He took another bite of his food, then smiled at her. But she could tell that he was distracted. Just who was this Michelle person?
About twenty minutes later, the sound of a car horn blaring got both of their attention. Malcolm immediately whipped his head around, then shot to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
Once Malcolm was out the door, Tasia crept to the large window and peered outside. A beautiful woman wearing tight jeans and a low-cut white top stepped out of an older style silver Mercedes. Her mane of curly hair flowed over her shoulders. Tasia’s back stiffened. Who was she?