“Are you going to actually go in with me?”
Sky, dressed in a pretty cream-red floral wrap dress, glanced over his shoulder and to the closed hospital door. The mid-thigh length dress and high heel strap sandals accentuated toned bare legs. The red in her dress served as her splash of color, as did her red lipstick. The woman was far too pretty to spend her morning playing emotional babysitter to her man.
“Who’s in the room with Angie?”
“Sean, definitely. Maybe my parents.”
“Your parents?”
“You said that as if my parents are cannibals waiting to add you to their crockpot for Sunday dinner.”
Sky’s eyes snapped back to Malcolm. “Cannibals? Really? You have an extreme way of putting things. Why are you wearing your hair out today?”
“For you. Why else?”
Brownish-green eyes glanced from one end of the quiet hallway to the other. Except for a couple of workers at the nurses’ station and a man with two bored-looking teens in chairs lining the white wall, no one else was in that part of the hall.
“I assumed, when you didn’t put it up earlier, you would at least pull it back into a ponytail when we got to the hospital. You never wear your hair completely out in public.”
“What am I missing? You like my hair this way.”
“I do. But… It doesn’t matter. Forget what I said.”
For a second, Malcolm could only stare at her. Was confident, capable, and beautiful Sky Ellis the jealous type? The way she watched Malcolm, her eyes daring him to make fun of her irrational perspective, he thought she just might be. Then he’d recalled how seriously she’d taken his question about her box of condoms and the unintended accusation of infidelity.
He sobered. Malcolm may find this jealous side of Sky unexpected and cute, but insecurity, even a mild case, was often grounded in past traumas, failure, or rejection. Sky wasn’t the type to fail at much, so that left past traumas and rejection.
“You never bring up anything that doesn’t matter to you. You want to talk about?”
“Not really.”
Of course, she didn’t. Why did Malcolm bother asking?
“Every door can’t be closed. One of these days you’re going to have to start opening them and letting me through.”
“Perhaps, but now isn’t one of those days.” Sky gestured, with her chin, to the door behind him. “My phone is vibrating. Go see your sister. My father met with his cardiologist Friday. I was supposed to call him last night to find out how the appointment went. I’m surprised he’s waited this long to call my cell.”
Retrieving her phone from her purse and answering, Sky nodded to Angie’s room again before walking toward a row of chairs across from the nurses’ station and sitting.
Malcolm watched her for a few seconds, long legs crossed, wavy hair piled high on her head, cell phone pressed to her ear. His Sky, sexy, intelligent, complex.
He entered his sister’s room. The sight that greeted him squeezed his heart and stilled his legs. Angie appeared as she had yesterday—quiet, small, and fragile. The man sitting in the chair next to the bed looked as if he hadn’t slept since Angie’s night nurse forced them out her room. Sean certainly hadn’t shaved since yesterday, although he wore fresh clothes.
If not for Sky taking care of him, he would’ve tossed and turned all night before dragging himself back to the hospital, looking no better than his brother-in-law.
Not wanting to interrupt, Malcolm kept quiet and listened as Sean read to his barely-awake wife.
“Though exhausted, Zion didn't sleep. He watched his wife, the rise and fall of her chest, the anguished expressions that marred her features, telling him she wasn't sleeping peacefully. The poor woman was unable to let go of her anxiety over his impending death, even in her dream state.
Zion dug his fingers into her heavily coiled hair, finding sensitive scalp and massaging. He’d discovered, when they were courting, that Asiyans held their tension in their head, unlike humans whose stress often found its way to their neck and shoulders.
After several minutes, Lela’s tense body melted under his expert ministrations, taking on a more natural posture. Her breathing grew deep and heavy.
Zion smiled at his wife and wrapped himself around her, using his left arm to pull Lela close to him, claiming her as his. She was still his, he reminded himself. For the next three years and one beyond that, she would be only his in mind, heart, and body. After that… well, life went on, even for the most loving and dedicated of spouses. Zion was sure Iman had forgiven him for finding love and happiness with someone else. And he could…would do the same for Lela. But not now, not tonight, not yet. He still had time. They still had time. She was his. Yes, his and his alone.”
“She’s asleep.” Malcolm moved from where he’d been leaning against the door and to the side of his sister’s bed. He glanced across Angie and to Sean. “She nodded off about two minutes ago. What are you reading?” Malcolm lowered his mouth to Angie’s forehead and kissed her. She didn’t stir.
Sean slipped a bookmark inside the novel, closed it, and then turned the book toward Malcolm.
“Bound Souls. Sci-fi? Fantasy?” His sister enjoyed both genres, especially if they were combined with romance, which this book seemed to be.
“A little bit of both. It’s set on another planet about three hundred years in the future, but it also has supernatural elements included. It’s a new book by an African American female author. When I saw it online, I knew Angie would love it.”
Though Sean spoke to Malcolm, his focus stayed on his wife.
“Flowers, candy, jewelry.” Sean raised the book again before letting it fall back to his lap. “Books, cards, clothing. All pointless. I can’t buy my way out of what I’ve done and back into her heart. She doesn’t trust me anymore. Some days, I don’t even think she likes me.”
Trinkets wouldn’t heal the wounds Sean had inflicted on his wife. The lawyer was too smart to think superficial, even if genuine, gestures of affection would absolve him of his sins and rebuild the bridge between him and Angie.
“I fucked up.”
Sean turned to Malcolm. For the first time, in a long time, Sean wore no artifice. He wasn’t acting the cocky lawyer, the jokester friend, or the charming husband. In Sean’s weary gaze, Malcolm glimpsed the man behind the swagger and bullshit. There, next to a wife he’d injured long before a car added more damage to an already savaged Angela Styles, was the true Sean Franklin.
Guilty. Ashamed. Scared.
“I know you think I don’t understand the magnitude of what I’ve done, but I do. I feel like shit for hurting Angie. SJ is mad at me, although he doesn’t know why his Mom hardly talks to me anymore. Funny, how a son jumps to his mother’s defense, even against his father.”
“Take it as a sign you and Angie raised him right. He’s a smart kid. All the children are. They were bound to notice the tension between the two of you.”
“I stayed up and read the novel last night. I didn’t know what else to do with myself. The kids were asleep, by the time I got home. Your parents didn’t stay long after I arrived, so had no one to talk to. I considered calling you but assumed you wouldn’t want to hear from me. Is Sky back in town? I overheard Angie talking to Sky about the retreat. They talk on the phone at least once a week. Did you know that?”
Malcolm did know, and he couldn’t be happier about the growing friendship between his sister and girlfriend. “I’m glad Angie’s reached out to Sky. Beyond work, she doesn’t know many people here, and she’s not the type to go places just to make friends.” People like Sky didn’t require a lot of friends to make them happy. A few good ones were enough for her. “She’s in the hall and on the phone with her dad.”
A long conversation, now that Malcolm thought about it. He hoped everything was fine with the older man. For all that she and her father didn’t seem close, Malcolm knew Sky would be on the first plane to Maryland if his health were threatened.
/> “Good. I’m glad you found someone. Sky seems nice. I met her when she and Angie had lunch at the house.” Sean glanced down at the book again, then back to Malcolm. “It’s about a man who dies, and his soul comes back in the body of a rival love interest for his wife’s heart. Zion still in love with Lela, but she only sees the other man when she looks at him. It’s also a story about a woman who struggles to move on with her life after the death of her soul mate. It’s the first work of fiction I’ve read that depicts life after death in a way not defined by any religious belief. It answers questions like, where do we go after we die? Are we conscious and carry our memories with us? What does it mean to have to have a soul bound to someone else’s? It’s a good book. Sad and sweet but also moving and thought-provoking.”
“What was your takeaway?”
“A lot of hard truths, actually. Lela and Zion loved fiercely but not selflessly. All love, to a certain extent, is selfish. The author wrote about three fates: Purpose, Faith, and Truth. I lied, was unfaithful, and lost sight of the purpose of my life and family. Who knew a sci-fi romance could produce an epiphany in a man as jaded as me?”
Sean laid the book on the side of Angie’s bed, on top of the white blankets that covered her broken legs.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to earn her forgiveness, even if Angie decides she wants a divorce. I hope she won’t, and I’ll fight like hell to win her back, but I won’t blame her if she decides to wash her hands of me.”
“It sounds like something you need to tell Angie, not me.”
“I have, but I also want you to know. I love your sister, despite what I did. And I love you like a brother. I would like your forgiveness, too. I miss our friendship. I want it back. Which means I have a lot of work to do.” Sean shrugged. “Nothing worth having is easy.”
For long minutes, they exchanged no more words. Malcolm pulled up the second chair in the room and placed it on the side of the bed opposite Sean. The men watched Angie sleep, as if their silence and concern could speed up her recovery.
Cuts and bruises littered her face, neck, and arms. Her sedan was totaled and, if not for her seatbelt and airbag, Angie wouldn’t have survived the car crash.
“She has contusions on her back. Burst blood vessels, I was told. I saw the bruises when the doctor examined Angie early this morning. There were black and blue marks up and down her back from being jolted forward then thrown back against the seat. We could’ve lost her. And, for what? Because some impatient asshole couldn’t wait two goddamn minutes at a fucking red light?”
“With your contacts on the police force, you could find out where the bastard lives. If he’s out on bail, we can go to his house and beat the shit out of him. How does that sound?”
“Like we’ll be the ones in jail next.” Sean smiled at Malcolm, weak but grateful. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“I’m was only partly joking. If he were here now, you’d have to fight me to get to him first. Whipping that guy’s ass wouldn’t change Angie’s condition or take away her pain, but it’d make me feel a hell of a lot better.”
“Yeah, me too. If Angie were awake, she’d snort and roll her eyes at us, saying something about men bonding over violence.”
Malcolm didn’t know about the bonding part. But he had no problem allying with his brother-in-law against anyone who hurt or threatened their family.
His phone dinged, and Malcolm retrieved it from his pants pocket.
“A text?”
“From Sky.” He read the message. Two words followed by a grim-faced emoji. “I’ll be back.”
Malcolm hustled to the door and into the hall, his eyes going to where he’d last seen his girlfriend. She no longer sat in the chair against the wall, nor was she alone. The father and his children were gone. In their place and surrounding a bewildered Sky were a committee of Styles.
If not for Sky’s tall form, he wouldn’t have made her out in the center of his fast-talking family. Malcolm’s parents were there, as were four aunts and three uncles. They bombarded Sky with questions, talking at the same time and over each other.
He wondered how long she’d attempted to answer their barrage of questions before giving up and texting him her Help Me! plea.
Ever polite and professional, Sky smiled and nodded. The woman wasn’t shy, not hardly. But she was an introvert, and that many people, vying for her attention and surrounding her, had to be overwhelming.
Like being in the middle of a group of hungry cannibals. Damn. Malcolm made quick work of the short distance between himself and his family of flesh eaters.
“Malcolm, there you are.” His mother peeled herself from the crowd as soon as she saw him. “You should’ve told us Sky would be here today.”
Leaning down to accept a hug from his mother, short, beautiful, and petite, like her sisters and daughter, Malcolm wondered if Sky would retreat into her tortoise shell after being bombarded by his family.
His father slapped him on the back. Taller than Malcolm at six feet and heavier than him by forty pounds, Charles Styles’ heavy hand had Malcolm suppressing a wince.
“What took you so long to bring Sky around to meet the family? Your mother’s been asking for weeks.”
“How many words did Sky get out before everyone started in on her? I bet she saw you about to bum rush Angie’s room, introduced herself and said a couple of polite comments, because that’s how she is, then you guys turned into a pack of wolves.”
His father’s meaty hand came crashing down on his shoulder again, considerably harder than the first time.
“How did you convince a nice girl like Sky to go out with you with that smart mouth of yours?”
“She likes my mouth just fine.”
The unintended double entendre was out before he realized what he’d said.
Malcolm’s mother and aunts tsked, hands going to hips and heads shaking in disapproval. His father and uncles howled, loud and mocking, as if they were at a Bills game instead of in a hospital with recuperating patients. Sky wasn’t that light, but she turned an embarrassed shade of crimson, adding a different splash of color to her ensemble.
“Thanks a lot, Dad.” Malcolm stepped past his mother and grabbed Sky’s hand and kissed it. “Everyone, this is Dr. Sky Ellis. She’s kind but not a pushover. Sky’s Maryland classy with a sprinkle of New York sassy. She enjoys reading, jogging, and bloody horror movies that would turn any sensible person’s stomach. We’re colleagues and friends, and she’s dating me because I have great hair and taste in clothing, sweet kisses and a good heart. I’m also an entertaining talker and a brilliant thinker. All of which makes me Styles awesome.”
“Don’t forget humble.” Sky smirked. “I’ve never met a humbler man in my life. Styles awesome? Really, Malcolm? Where do you come up with these things?”
His family laughed, and Malcolm kissed Sky’s hand again and winked at her. “Sky, these are the Styles.”
One by one, Malcom introduced his family, beginning with his parents, Kimberly and Charles.
8
Shit. S-sky. Sky.”
Malcolm’s thighs tightened, toes curled, and hips lifted. Fuck, Sky’s mouth on his dick, warm and wet and as deep as she could take him. In his office and on her knees, she had him gripping the armrests of his chair and praying for thick walls and hard of hearing colleagues.
Fifteen minutes ago, Sky came charging into his office, full of fire and brimstone. She’d slammed the door and locked it. “Who in the hell does he think he is? I mean, sure, Dr. Hicks is the college president, but still. He had no right to force you to step down from the Diversity Progress Committee.”
Today, she wore the red-and-black high heel shoes he loved, which matched her fiery attitude.
“The president, like you said. It’s okay, I kind of expected this. You’re not my direct supervisor, so he had nothing on us there. But you’re the chair of a committee that I’m a member of… used to be a member of. President Hicks is trying to cover his as
s in case someone, who doesn’t like the work that comes from the committee, uses our relationship and supposed lack of neutrality as a point of contention. It’s all about image, Sky, you know how these things work. The truth rarely matters.”
“You were on the committee years before I came to EBC. If anyone must leave, it should be me.”
“You know why it can’t be you. Being chair of the committee is part of your responsibilities as Director of the Office of Diversity & Inclusion. I’m expendable on that committee. You aren’t.”
“You aren’t expendable. I’m tired of the looks and whispers.” Anger and lust were in her brownish-green eyes when she’d approached, Malcolm standing behind his desk. “Tired of everyone thinking every time we meet behind closed doors we’re having sex. We’ve never had sex at work.”
More due to Sky’s sense of propriety than Malcolm’s lack of effort.
Sky had invaded his personal space, the same way he’d done her the first time he sought her out in her office.
“We might as well make the gossip true.” Leaning in, she’d kissed him, her tongue invading his mouth and her hand going to his belt. “Right here, Malcolm. In your office. Sit down for me, sweetie.”
Sky used the term of endearment so infrequently that it still surprised him when she did. He hoped, with time and use, Sky would grow more comfortable not only expressing her feelings for him but accepting his love as a fact of life. Malcolm meant every statement he made to Sky three weeks ago, including his willingness to wait. He wasn’t in a rush. He got it. They hadn’t been together long. Most women, even ones not as skittish about commitment as Sky, would think twice about a man proclaiming his love after three months of dating.
“We really shouldn’t.” With that token protest from Malcolm, Sky undid his belt and pants, then pushed him onto his chair before dropping to her knees.
“You know you want me to. You’re already so hard, and I’ve barely touched you. Lean back and relax. All I could think about after leaving the administration building and walking here was how good you would taste in my mouth and whether I could make you scream my name loud enough for your colleagues to hear.”
Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection Page 48