Brooke's body quivered, ready to crest over the peak of passion. Sensing she was near the summit, Zeke slaked his need to be one with her -- ramming into her with no warning, her wetness guiding him to the deepest part of her.
She wrapped her legs around him, wanting no escape from the raw beauty of their carnal coupling.
Sweat dripped from Zeke's forehead as he plunged into her again and again, glorying in her uninhibited response to him. He drank in every delicious movement of her sinuous body, every pleasure-seeking expression on her angelic face.
God she felt so good, so right wrapped around him.
The force of his moan rocked him to his core as his throbbing manhood released its seed into her. "Come with me baby; yeah, come with me," he said as he leaned forward, his head settling into her damp, pillowy cloud of dark-brown curls.
No other woman had ever come close to driving him insane with her lovemaking like she had. His sweet, sweet Brooke. He never tired of sliding into her; mating with her. Never.
Brooke felt the receding tremble of Zeke's manhood as he eased out of her.
Turning her over, he slid her small, shapely frame into his – in their preferred, spooned position. As soon as she'd settled in comfortably, he wrapped his arms around her to tuck her in closer to him.
There'd been no talking that night. The intensity of their lovemaking had only left room for one thing.
Sleep.
. . .
The next morning Brooke had decided to take the bull by the horns and ask Zeke directly to finish their conversation.
The intensity of their coupling the night before – while wonderful – had set off alarm bells in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn't right. Something just wasn't right. And the longer she let it go on, the more she feared the foundation of the love they shared would be eroded.
She didn't want that to happen. And the only way to stop it in her mind was to ask Zeke to open up to her about his marriage. It was the only way they had a shot – everything had to be put on the table.
The conversation had gone from bad to worse, ending with those heart-piercing words, "I'm sorry. I just can't do this right now. I think it's best we just go our separate ways, Brooke."
Chapter 11: Facing the Past
Present Day
As Zeke relived what had transpired between them, he realized it was time for him to face his demons. It was time for him to tell her everything if he ever wanted a real chance with her.
But first, he needed to gain some insight on how to do it right.
. . .
"Thursday, 9 am. I'll be there."
"We'll call and confirm the day before, Mr. Granger," the receptionist said.
"No need, I'll be there, but thanks anyway," Zeke said.
He'd finally done what he should have done years ago – seek some professional help to deal with the mountain of issues he had with trust and betrayal.
Zeke realize that if he didn't get help, he could wind up spending the rest of his life alone, or worse, screwing up one relationship after the other – all because he hadn't been able to deal with something that happened almost 15 years ago.
He also realized that what he felt for Brooke didn't come along every day. She was one of those once-in-a-lifetime women; the kind that if you lose, you always regret it. He knew this first hand. He'd lost her once – and had never forgiven himself for it.
In the past, he hadn't done everything he could to keep her. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
Now he was ready to do the work.
Chapter 12: Getting on With Life
After that kiss on the street, Brooke realized she couldn’t on with her plot to get revenge on Zeke. She still loved him, and in the end she knew he'd wind up breaking her heart again. The very thought of it made her nauseous, so she decided to just get on with her life.
And dating was just the way to do it. Just because she still loved Zeke didn't mean she couldn't get over him.
So she'd go out with Gary, and any other man who appealed to her – in earnest – not to make Zeke jealous.
Life is a gift, she thought to herself, and I've wasted far too much of it loving a man who won't invest fully in me emotionally. "It's time to move on," she said to her reflection in the bathroom mirror that evening as she dried off after her shower.
In the past, she would have been wracked by grief and tears. But, she reflected, That well went dry years ago. I have no more tears for him.
Feeling acutely melancholy, Brooke went to open a bottle of red wine. It was her one concession to her feelings this evening. Normally, she wouldn’t imbibe this late when she had to film the next day, but a glass of wine was what she wanted at that moment.
Concentrating on twisting the wine opener to bring the cork out of the Merlot she was opening, the ringing of her phone startled her and she almost dropped the bottle.
"Gary-Cop" popped up on the screen of her phone.
She put the almost-open bottle of wine down and punched the speaker button.
"Hello, you," she said.
"Hello yourself, pretty lady. I hope I'm not calling too late."
Brooke snuck a peek at the clock hanging on one wall in her kitchen. No, it's not even 11 yet. That's not late – at least not for me. I rarely turn in before midnight."
"I'll note that," Gary said. "I'm on patrol and thought I'd give you a call to see if we could get together over the next few days."
"Well I'm pretty flexible. I work during the day from home, so I guess it really depends on your schedule," Brooke said.
"In that case, how about tomorrow night. Otherwise, it will have to be sometime next week. My schedule is kinda insane right now. Unfortunately, criminals don’t keep a normal schedule like regular folk."
Brooke laughed. "Well, Officer Colbert, I guess tomorrow night it is. Eight is perfect," she sounded off as they solidified plans for the following evening.
Chapter 13: Officer Gary
"Oh my God, that was sooo amazing! I still don't know how he did it – and I kept my eyes on his hands the whole time," Brooke said, amazed by the magic show they'd just attended at the Waldorf Astoria.
"I know, I was too," Gary said. "I'm glad you liked it. I've been a fan of magic since I was a kid. I was either gonna be a magician or a cop."
"I guess the magician's thing didn't work out, huh," Brooke laughed.
"Nah, to be honest, I sucked at it," Gary said.
"Well the magician world's loss is the public's gain. I know I feel safer with you patrolling the streets of the city," Brooke said, genuinely meaning it.
She was pleasantly surprised at how much she enjoyed Gary's company. There was an unexpected depth and seriousness to him she was discovering. Over the last three-and-a-half weeks or so, they'd had half a dozen dates and each time she found something more unique and intriguing about him.
But he doesn’t set you on fire like Zeke, an insistent little voice said.
Which also means I won't get burnt to death, she thought stubbornly.
Stopping in front of her brownstone, Gary got out of his car to walk her up to the door of her apartment. This was one of the things she liked about him.
Even though he could clearly see her ascend the stairs and open the vestibule of her apartment from the street, he always insisted on climbing the six stairs and standing on the stoop until she opened – and locked – both doors of the entrance to her building before climbing the four flights to her apartment.
"It's the cop in me," he'd said when she'd objected for about the third time. "You have no idea how many times I see stuff where I think, 'if someone was watching just 5 seconds longer,' this wouldn't have happened; especially when it comes to women."
"Sorry if I seem overly protective."
"No, no, not at all," Brooke had said. "I think it's very sweet and gentlemanly."
"Would you like to come up?" Brooke asked. It was the first time she'd invited him inside.
"I was beginning to
think you were never going to ask," Gary smiled.
He liked Brooke, more than he wanted to admit, but he sensed she wanted to take things slow. It was one of the reasons he hadn't forced the issue. Some women were worth taking your time with – and Brooke was one of those women.
"Glass of wine?" she asked Gary, as he took off his jacket and hung it on the coat hook behind her front door.
"Sure," he said.
Returning to her cozy living room with two glasses of wine, Brooke put on the soulful sounds of The Tedeschi Trucks Band, one of favorite groups, and took a seat beside Gary on the couch.
As the strands to Midnight In Harlem started to play, they sat in companionable silence as if on cue, to enjoy the beautiful ballad …
Well, I came to the city
I was running from the past
My heart was bleeding
And it hurt my bones to laugh
Stayed in the city
No exception to the rules, to the rule
He was born to love me
I was raised to be his fool, his fool
Walk that line, torn apart
Spend your whole life trying
Ride that train, free your heart
It's midnight up in Harlem…
As the mournful sounds of the guitar ended the song, Gary turned to Brooke, took her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers.
It had been so long since she'd had a man. She was so lonely.
Brooke let Gary deepen the kiss; waiting for that all-consuming spark she always had when Zeke touched her. She felt a small stirring of desire. Desperately wanting it to spread, she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
A persistent buzzing sound caused him to stop. Pulling back slowly, he said, "I have to get that. It's my cell; that's the station."
"Yeah, I can be there in 15; I'm not too far away," Gary said as he pushed the button to end the call.
Turning to Brooke, he said, "I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry," he said. "I have to go in."
"No problem, I understand," Brooke said. "Comes with the territory when you date a cop, no?"
"Yeah, it does," he said.
"Call you later if I can, ok? If it gets too late, I'll call tomorrow."
"Ok," Brooke said. "I'ma walk out with you. My sweet tooth is kicking in … gonna run to Whole Foods and pick up some ice cream."
"I can drop you off, but please be careful getting back home Brooke. It's getting kinda late."
"I'll be fine Gary. It's not too late and as sweet as it is of you to be so worried, I've been navigating the streets of this city since I was a naïve twenty-two-year old. I'm much more savvy now, so don't worry, I'll be fine."
At his upturned eyebrow, she said, "How 'bout if I text you when I get back in, ok?"
"Alright. I guess that'll have to do," he said, and pulled her close to kiss her again.
Brooke shrugged into the jacket he held out for her, grabbed her keys and indicated he should walk out first since she had to lock the door behind them.
. . .
"I can't help it, it's my weakness," Brooke was saying as Gary teased her about being a fitness expert and eating ice cream at this time of night.
"Brooke, I need to talk to you," a husky baritone said from the bottom step of her brownstone's stoop.
Chapter 14: Confessions
"What are you doing here?" Brooke said to Zeke.
"Well when you won't answer my calls, respond to my emails or even show up at the gym, you leave me no choice but to come to the one place I knew you'd be."
"Well any normal person would take those as social signals that said person doesn't want to talk to you," Brooke said.
Zeke glared at Gary, who glared back.
"Colbert," Zeke said.
"Granger," Gary responded, surprised at his presence at Brooke's place. "Looks like she doesn't want to be bothered," he continued, wondering what business he had with her.
"No, I don't," Brooke said in response to Gary's statement.
"Brooke we are going to talk. Now it can be right here on the street, or in private. But make no mistake, we are going to talk."
"Granger look. She said she doesn't want to be bothered. I don't want to have to run you in, but I will …"
"It's alright, Gary. I can handle this. Besides, weren't you just called in? You need to get going."
"Are you sure?" Gary said to her, his gaze steadfastly on Zeke.
"Yes, I’m sure. I'm not in any danger if that's what you're worried about. We'll talk tomorrow, ok?"
"Ok. If you're sure," he said, looking from one to the other. There was definitely something between these two. And while he was falling for Brooke big time, he wasn't one to get in the middle of somebody else's relationship.
Domestic calls were the worst. He'd seen too much in too many instances when it came to family – brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, lovers, friends, etc. It made him really particular about avoiding sticky situations like this in his own personal life.
He liked to keep it simple and straightforward.
With one last glare at Zeke, Gary descended the stairs, got in his car and drove off.
. . .
Zeke was furious. He hated seeing Brooke with another man. Hated it.
But he reminded himself that he had to keep the bigger picture in mind. This was the battle; he wanted to win the war.
"Can we go inside?" he asked.
Brooke turned and wordlessly headed back up the stairs she'd just descended – so happily – a few minutes before.
Just when I thought I was out... he pulls me right back in, the words from The Godfather tumbled around her head as she climbed the four flights of stairs to her apartment, with Zeke close behind. I feel ya, Michael Corleone.
"Say what you have to say and then leave Zeke," she said simply, tears forming and falling freely before he even said a word.
She was so tired; so emotionally drained from this rollercoaster of emotion she'd been on since she returned to the city. Eight years of loving him had taken their toll. She just wanted closure – for it to all be over and done with once and for all.
Zeke took one look at her and pulled her to him. "Oh Brooke, I'm so sorry. There's so much I need to tell you. So much pain I could have spared both of us."
Brooke shook in his arms. She'd thought she had no more tears to shed over her love for him. As it turned out, they'd just been held at bay by her anger, her hurt, her longing for him.
Zeke held her, "Shhh, shhh, it's alright. It's going to be alright," he crooned.
A little while later, folding a piece of tissue in her hand, Brooke curled up on the couch and looked directly into those green eyes that had haunted her heart for years.
Would she ever be willing to really, really let go of him?
Zeke knew, without her uttering a word, that she was ready to listen to what he had to say.
. . .
"I met Tina when we were still in high school," he began. We got married right after and went on to attend college together at the University of Miami. That much you know."
"What you didn't know is that we had a son ..."
"You're a father." Brooke interrupted, the information slamming into her, causing her to gasp.
"No," he Zeke rushed on, holding up a hand as if to ward off the pain the thought caused. "No, I'm not a father."
"I don't understand," Brooke said.
"I know. What I should have said was, 'I thought me and my wife had a son."
Zeke looked at the moonlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her apartment. He loved those windows. Even though her place was small – as most New York City apartments were – those windows made it feel twice as large.
Looking to the moon, as if for guidance from a higher being, Zeke continued, "I thought we had a son. It turns out, the child wasn’t mine."
"His biological father was my best friend … a guy I'd known practically all my life."
Rushing on, as if to skip over the pain the words caused, Zeke continued, "I didn't find this out until the baby was almost two years old. Of course, I already loved the child; was bonded to him. So his DNA didn't make a difference to me. I was his father … and I intended to fight for custody of him."
After revealing how his mother talked him out of it, how he'd confronted his ex and how he'd come to live in New York, he added, "And then I met you."
"I'd been in New York almost seven years before I met you Brooke. And I have to say, I fell head over heels in love with you the first time I saw you. I thought you were too young for me. But when I found out you were 22 – not quite as young as I thought – and how mature you were, I was even more impressed."
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