* * *
Darius opened the microwave door to cease its beeping. The smell of extra-butter microwave popcorn filled his apartment. Grasping the edge of the bag, he took it out, closing the door. Once he’d filled a large plastic bowl from his cabinet with the steaming kernels, he took the short journey from the kitchen to the living room, where Eve lay stretched out on the sofa.
Setting the bowl down on the coffee table, he let his eyes travel her bare legs, revealed by the khaki shorts she wore. Her bright red toenails were propped up on the arm of the couch. “Excuse me.” He grabbed her legs, pushed them aside, and took a seat.
She tossed a pillow at him. “Hey, I was comfortable.”
“I could see that.” He sipped from the glass of Pepsi he’d left sitting on the table. “But I needed somewhere to sit.” He leaned close to her, stroked her jaw. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
With desire sparkling in her cocoa eyes, she kissed his forehead. “Naughty boy. I thought you asked me over to watch television and chill out.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t heat things up a little later.”
She giggled. “Are you going to be okay until the show goes off, or do I need to douse you with Pepsi to cool you off?”
Rolling his eyes, he turned toward the television. Listening to the announcer describe the show, and seeing the images roll by, he turned wide eyes on her. “World’s Stupidest Stunts? This is what you want to watch?”
She propped herself up on her elbow. “What can I say, I like watching stupid people get hurt sometimes.”
He shook his head. He’d never known a sister who liked watching a guy take a blow to the family jewels, or at least not one who would admit it. “You should watch SportsCenter with me. There’s plenty of carnage to be seen in the highlights during football season. Not to mention NASCAR crashes, UFC knockouts, the whole nine.”
Chance, who’d been lying between the coffee table and the couch, raised his head. Just as he made a play for the popcorn bowl, Eve snatched it up. “No, Chance.”
Looking very guilty, Chance slid under the table, his paws over his snout.
Darius shook his head. Wish I could always get him to do what I say.
Stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, he sat back, pulling her legs into his lap.
The show proved hilarious. Watching idiotic skateboarders render themselves sterile while trying to do tricks on handrails, and seeing other fools take blows to various parts of the body, he laughed harder than he had in weeks. Their bad judgment was his entertainment.
Looking over at her, he saw her laughing so hard she wiped away tears. The fit of laughter caused her tempting breasts to bounce subtly. Watching her suddenly became much more appealing than the picture on the TV.
She looked at him, her eyes sparkling with dampness. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”
He said nothing. Instead, he leaned over and pulled her into his arms. Lacing his fingers in her red-streaked hair, he brought her forward for his kiss. Her lips were yielding and soft, and the sultry croon that escaped from her throat spurred him on.
As the kiss deepened, he stroked her shoulders and the scented expanse of her throat.
Looking at her, all he could think about was laying her down and making love to her until she called his name.
She pulled away, panting as if breathless. “Darius—good grief.” She fanned herself with her hand. “If you wanna see the rest of this, you’d better quit.”
He grazed his thumb over her right nipple, enjoying the way it stiffened under his touch. “The choice is yours.”
Her eyes slid closed, and she let him continue talking to her body with his hands. Each part of her responded in kind, answering his sensual call.
A pounding at his front door interrupted the moment. With a curse, Darius went to the door. “Who is it?”
No one answered, so he looked through the peephole in the door.
“Who’s out there?” She looked on curiously.
“Nobody.” He couldn’t see anyone standing at the door, but he knew the knock hadn’t been imagined. “Unless it’s somebody really short.”
To satisfy his own curiosity, he opened the door. No one was there, but there was something lying on the cement stoop outside his door. He flicked on the porch light, then stooped down to get a closer look.
She walked up behind him, circling her arms around his waist. “What is it?”
Looking at the object, his eyes widened. He picked it up, and stared in disbelief. “This can’t be real. It’s got to be a replica or something.”
The object was a framed, autographed photo of Duke Ellington.
“Wow. If it’s a fake, it’s a very good one.” She peered around his shoulder for a closer look. “It looks antique to me.”
He studied the faded mahogany frame, with its hand-carved embellishments, and he had to agree. Turning the frame over, he saw a yellow Post-it note stuck to the back. Peeling it off carefully to not damage the frame, he read it aloud. “For Darius. Keep spreading the joy of jazz. The Music Man.”
“Who in the world is the Music Man?” Her voice was filled with the awe he felt.
He looked off into the night, his eyes scanning for any sign of the person who’d left him something so grand. “I have no idea.”
Chapter 23
Darius stood near the window of the Sunday school room he’d been confined to. Lina had come charging into the church about an hour ago, insisting he stay there so he wouldn’t see Eve as she entered the building. He’d agreed, knowing Lina wasn’t going to give him a choice. But he requested that he not be imprisoned alone. So, he, Rashad, Marco and Ken, along with his father, occupied the room together, waiting to be released.
The sun began to set outside, but Darius could still see people standing outside the front doors of the church. Some stopped to converse with friends, others rushed into the building. He turned toward the other men in the room, and found them all watching him intently. “What?”
Quincy spoke. “How are you feeling?”
He did his best impersonation of a pro baller’s pregame stretch. “I’m ready, coach. Put me in the game.”
Quincy chuckled. “Good. Keep that attitude.”
Marco straightened his white bow tie. “Yeah. Just don’t rip the tuxedo while you’re expressing your ‘readiness.’”
Darius came over to the table and took the vacant seat between his father and Ken.
Quincy turned to him, his eyes serious. “You’re making a very big commitment, Darius. I wanted to marry Olivia, but she was a free spirit—too creative to be tied down.”
He scoffed. “Creative? Don’t you mean selfish?”
“Darius, she was selfish then. That’s true. But people grow older, they change.”
“Not Olivia. I bet she’s the same way now.” Darius slapped his palm on the table. “Why are we talking about her now, anyway?”
The creaking of the door caught his attention, and he turned toward the sound. To his shock, Olivia stepped into the room.
Rashad, whose wide eyes resembled two full moons, stood. “Gents, maybe we should make ourselves scarce.”
Olivia closed the door behind her. “No, boys. Don’t leave. I want you all to hear what I have to say to my son.”
Rashad hesitated, then dropped back down into the chair.
Darius stood, staring at her with cold eyes. “Why are you here?”
She moved closer. “Because my only child is getting married, and I wanted to be here.”
Quiet rage filled him. He wanted to throw something, but he knew better than to act so brusque in God’s house. “Now you want to be here? You’ve missed my whole life up until now.” He placed a hand to his now throbbing head. “Oh, wait, I take that back.
You did show a while back, just long enough to insult the woman I’m about to marry.”
Olivia’s gaze lowered. She looked wounded by his comments. “I know you’re angry with me, Darius. And you have every right to be.” The tapping sound of her high-heeled shoes filled the otherwise silent room as she slowly approached him. “I haven’t been the mother I should have been to you.”
Darius turned away from her. Why was she really here? He didn’t want to guess at her motives, so he came out and asked her. “Are you looking for money?”
“Darius, this isn’t about money. If it was about money, I would have come years ago, when you sold your phone software thing.”
That gave him pause. “You knew about that?”
“Of course. It was all over the news—a great accomplishment, especially for a young man. I was so proud of you.”
He felt a tightness in his chest.
She brushed away a tear running down her cheek. “Look, I don’t expect us to have a relationship right away. All I’m asking is that you give this a chance. Let’s make today a starting point, okay?”
He turned back toward her, and found her brown eyes filled with remorse. How could she come here, on his wedding day, and disrupt everything?
Olivia’s voice shook with emotion. “I’m sorry, Darius. For all the pain I’ve caused you and your father, I’m truly, truly sorry.”
Darius noted that for the first time in his life, she’d admitted that she wasn’t a good mother, and her guilt seemed genuine. He thought of his paternal grandmother, Ma Beaulah, sitting in the sanctuary right now. She’d always taught him that forgiveness wasn’t for the person you forgave, but for you.
He could hear Ma Beaulah’s words in his mind. Hate and bitterness will consume you if you don’t forgive folks. Don’t give nobody that kind of power over you.
Darius stepped forward, and gathered the now weeping Olivia into his arms. “All right. We’ll give this thing a try.” He held her close for a few minutes more, then stepped away as her sobbing subsided. “It will be a while before I can call you mother, though.”
Olivia wiped at her eyes, and gave a teary smile. “Call me whatever you want. I just want to know you, to have a place in your life.”
A glance in his father’s direction and he found the old man grinning. “Good attitude, Darius. Ma Beaulah will be proud.”
Rashad nodded. “You’re a big man, Darius.” He walked over and slapped his friend a low-five. “A big man with a huge head.”
He punched Rashad in the chest, and he feigned injury. “Shut up, Rashad, before I snatch them ’locks outta your head.”
As Olivia and his father excused themselves, Darius waited alone with his friends. In the silence that settled over the room, Darius offered up a quick prayer that both his marriage and his new relationship with his mother would be blessed.
A knock sounded on the door, and Pastor Roberts stepped in. “Gentlemen, it’s time for you all to come out.” He walked over to Darius and patted him on the shoulder. “You know, I baptized Eve when she was knee-high to a piano bench. Are you ready to marry our little sweetheart and spoil her real good?”
“Yes, sir, I am.” He shook hands with the rotund minister.
“Then follow me.”
So Darius and his buddies followed Pastor Roberts out of the room.
Filled with the hope of a happy future, he entered the crowded sanctuary. As he, Rashad, Marco and Ken took their places at the altar, he took in the scene. His mother and father sat next to each other on the first pew on the left side of the church. To his surprise, they seemed to be getting along better than they had in years.
I hope Olivia is sincere with both of us. Pop deserves happiness.
Next to his father sat the smiling Ma Beaulah. Wearing her fancy white suit and her best Sunday hat, she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Darius caught her eye for a moment, and she gave him a thumbs-up. He chuckled to himself.
The opening notes of “Moonlight Sonata” floated out onto the hushed room. Darius turned toward the vestibule doors to see Eve’s bridesmaids begin their processional. Anticipation filled him as he watched them take their dainty steps toward the altar. He stood, in anticipation of his bride, and by the time Eve’s little cousins came down the aisle, sprinkling the path with yellow rose petals, he could barely breathe.
The ushers closed the doors. A few long moments passed, and when he thought he could stand it no longer, they reopened.
Framed in the doorway stood Eve, more beautiful than he’d ever seen. The figure-grazing gown fell to the floor in a puddle of rustling fabric. Her sideswept hair, the large flower ornamenting it and the happy sparkle in her cocoa eyes all sent his heart soaring. As she glided toward him on the arm of her uncle, everything else faded away. Nothing existed but the two of them, and he wanted it that way forever.
* * *
As Eve was ushered down the aisle by her father’s younger brother, her eyes held Darius’s. Seeing him there, waiting for her, made her want to run the rest of the way, but she held fast to propriety, taking the slow steps the occasion demanded until she arrived at his side. She reached out with a satin-gloved hand, and Darius captured it with his own. As Uncle Cordell took his seat, the ceremony began.
Pastor Roberts spoke for a few moments on the sanctity of marriage before administering the vows. Looking into Darius’s handsome face, she recited the words with all the emotion she felt. His hand cradling hers felt so right, so natural.
When he spoke his vows to her, she could hear his sincerity. The tears of joy slid unbidden down her cheeks as he promised her forever. And when he’d placed the glistening band of gold onto her finger, and she returned the gesture, Pastor Roberts pronounced them man and wife.
He dipped his head, and she received his kiss. Everything she felt for him impressed on her heart in that moment, and she knew that no matter what the future held, the magic of that moment would always remain.
Epilogue
Wearing her thin white silk nightgown, Eve stepped a bare foot onto the wooden patio attached to her honeymoon cabana. Darius and she had spent one night at the Park, relearning all the sweet spots on each others’ bodies. Yesterday morning, she’d been snuggled close to him on a flight to beautiful Ocho Rios, Jamaica.
Now, as she walked out onto the quiet strip of private beach that came with the cabana, she enjoyed the feel of the breeze playing through her hair. The sun shimmered on the cerulean surface of the Caribbean Sea mere feet away from where she stood. The water seemed to stretch on forever, and as she inhaled the fresh air, she sighed.
Everything she’d gone through up until now was worthwhile to bring her to this magical place, with the man she loved.
She felt Darius’s presence behind her a moment before he slipped his arms around her waist. Pulling her in against his bare chest, he kissed the side of her neck. “Good morning.”
Smiling, she turned to face him. “Good morning, yourself.”
“They’ll be delivering our breakfast in bed soon.”
“I know.” She glanced out over the rippling surface of the water. “I’m coming in. It’s just so beautiful here.”
“Not as beautiful as you, baby.” His lips crashed down on hers renewing the passion she’d spent the past two nights unleashing on him.
“Exactly how long do we have before the food comes?” She stroked her hand across his chest, making no effort to hide the desire she felt.
Leading her back toward the thatch roof cabin, he let loose a sexy, rumbling chuckle. “Not nearly long enough.”
She followed him into their little hideaway and stretched out on the bed. He joined her a heartbeat later. Weaving his fingers into her hair, he pulled her in for his kiss.
As the haze of desire took over her mind, she could feel the lazy circles he made ov
er her thighs through the fabric of her gown. He pulled away from her lips to transfer his kisses to the sensitive flesh of her bare shoulders and the hollow of her throat, and she sighed.
He moved lower, sliding the thin straps off her shoulders, teasing his tongue over her nipples. She crooned low in her throat as pleasure shot through her like electricity.
He stood briefly, snatching off his red boxer shorts. Before they landed on the polished wooden floor, he lifted her gown, taking her white thong from her. A second later he filled her, and she moaned at the sweet invasion.
His impassioned stroking started a fire between her thighs, and she met him stroke for stroke, her hips rising off the bed. He growled, increasing the pace until her world shattered. His orgasm followed close behind, and he came with a shout, collapsing on top of her.
In the silence, she kissed his sweat-dampened brow. “I love you, Darius.”
“I love you, Eve,” he husked out.
Their forever was just beginning, and she couldn’t wait to see where it would take them.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460387429
This Tender Melody
This Tender Melody Page 19