A Preacher’s Passion
Page 30
Vivian was thankful when a lady two rows behind her got happy and started jumping up and screaming, “My Rock, my Rock!” That brought other members of the audience to their feet, and before she knew it Tai was on her feet, thankfully blocking Vivian’s view of Snakeskin. About this time Tai’s husband, King Wesley Brook, mounted the podium along with his father, the Reverend Doctor Pastor Bishop Overseer Mister Stanley Obadiah Meshach Brook Jr., Vivian’s father, and a group of other board members. The song had reached a feverish pitch, and the choir was rocking, literally. Just before delivering the song’s final lyric, they paused. The choir, director with hand in midair, pianist, organist, drummer, lead singer—everybody stopped. It seemed everyone in the audience was frozen too, holding their breath, all except for the “happy” woman two rows back whose “My Rock!” had toned down to a quiet “Rock” between sobs as she was furiously fanned by two ushers in white. Oh, it was on now! The Holy Spirit was moving, people were remembering how Jesus had been their Rock, and there was shouting and crying and dancing going on all around. All that time the choir remained frozen, as did Vivian, but she for a totally different reason. Slowly the lead singer, a Karen Clark–like soprano-alto, sang the final line. She hit every note on the musical scale as she brought the song to its dramatic conclusion. Adding several syllables to each word, she belted out, “Jesus is my Rock.”
The drummer started a roll on the snares, the guitarist held on to a string, the note reverberating in the air, the pianist and organist seemed to be in a competition as to who could hit the most keys in the shortest amount of time, and the lead singer had gone on a journey to find notes that heretofore had not been hit. The song never really ended. It just faded away. The lead singer started her own personal praise as she walked back to the choir loft, the musicians were in their own player praise, and the audience added their adorations to the Lord.
Vivian had sat there quiet and still, a small smile playing on her face as she felt the power of God. She stayed that way a long time, through the shouting and the clapping and the praise pause and the player praise. She opened her eyes when she heard the voice of a man that reminded her of her father’s soothing tremor, but the voice was raspier, lighter. She cocked her head as she opened her eyes and stared into those of Snakeskin Boots himself, Derrick Anthony Montgomery.
“Are you ready to go?”
Vivian jumped, shaken from her walk down memory lane. She was sitting in the living room, waiting for her husband to come down. And here he was in front of her, still melting her just like he did fifteen years ago when she watched him deliver his eloquent tribute to King Brook at the Kewana Valley District’s Baptist Convention.
“Yes, I’m ready,” she responded as she grabbed her purse and, rising from the couch, kissed him lightly on the mouth. They headed to the garage and the iridescent, pearl white Jaguar waiting there. They all settled in as Derrick hit the garage door opener, started the car, and drove down the long, winding driveway.
“King called,” Derrick began after a brief silence.
“When?”
“Just now.”
“Must have been important,” Vivian pondered aloud. “He knows how busy Sunday mornings are. What did he want?”
Derrick’s brow creased slightly as he tried to figure that out himself. “I don’t know. I told him I’d call him later today, between services maybe.”
Vivian leaned back and looked out the window. It was a beautiful Sunday in Los Angeles with clear blue skies, fluffy white cumulous clouds, and picture-perfect palm trees lining the streets. Her mind drifted to the conversation she and Tai had had a couple days ago. Tai had seemed unusually quiet and reserved, and when Vivian asked her if everything was okay, Tai had said she was just tired. Since they had four, Vivian had assumed it was the children. Now she was wondering if it was the kids, or something else?
From Love Like Hallelujah
1
Remember to Forget
Cy moved with calm precision, feeling perfectly at home among Victoria’s Secret’s wispy feminine apparel. Not the most traditional gift to give his soon-to-be wife, but Cy couldn’t think of anything he’d rather see her in than a silky negligee, except her bare skin. He knew her body would show off to perfection the diamond necklace he’d just purchased at Tiffany’s, and he wanted a delicious piece of lingerie to complement the eight-carat teardrop. He couldn’t help but smile as he fingered the delicate fabrics of silk, satin, and lace, unmindful of the not-so-covert glances female shoppers slid his way. It hardly mattered. His fiancée, Hope Serenity Jones, had captured Cy’s attention from the moment she’d appeared at the back entrance of Mount Zion Progressive Baptist Church, a piece of sanctified eye candy wrapped in a shimmering gold designer suit.
Female admirers ogled Cy as he continued his deliberate perusal. He stopped at a hanging negligee, red and pink flowers against a satiny white background. The top had thin spaghetti straps that held up a transparent gown hitting midthigh. The thong had an intricately designed rose vine for the string, a trail he would happily follow once it was on Hope, first with his fingers, then with his tongue….
A perky, twenty-something salesclerk came over with a knowing smile. “Are roses your favorite flower?” she asked, flirting.
“They could become my favorite,” Cy countered easily, “if worn on the right person.”
“That’s a very popular design,” the salesperson offered, encouraging the purchase.
“I’ll take it,” Cy said as he casually handed the lingerie to her.
“Will this be all?” she asked, unconsciously moving closer to the live Adonis who had walked into the store and (blessings abound!) into her area.
“No, but I’ll keep shopping on my own,” Cy murmured as he eyed something on the other side of the store. The salesperson followed without thought. “I’ll let you know if I need any help,” Cy said with emphasis.
“No problem. I’m here if you need me.” The salesclerk turned around, a look of regret barely concealed behind her cheery smile. Cy was oblivious to the wistful stares his six-foot-two frame elicited from the saleswoman and other shoppers. His naturally curly jet-black hair may have been hidden under a Lakers cap, but his raw sexuality was in plain sight. He had no idea that his sparkling white smile lit up the room like the noonday sun or that the dimple that flashed at the side of his grin was like a finger beckoning women closer.
Cy picked up a bra and panty set that had Hope’s name written all over it. It was a soft, lacy, yellow number. The panty was designed like a pair of shorts—very short shorts—and Cy reacted physically as he thought of Hope’s bubble booty filling them out. He quickly added this set to the black and beige more traditional sets he’d selected earlier.
While making his way to the perfume counter, another outfit caught his eye—the perfect backdrop for the diamond pendant. It was a lavender-colored sheer nightgown with matching floor-length jacket. The beauty was in its simplicity, and he smiled again as he thought of how Hope would look wearing this purple paradise. He held it up and closed his eyes, mentally picturing her ebony splendor wrapped luxuriously inside the soft material rubbing against her silken skin as he kissed her sweet lips.
Cy felt the presence of someone behind him. Figuring it was the attentive saleswoman, he turned to apologize for taking so long to make his decisions, and for the growing pile of lingerie she’d collected on his behalf. The smile died on his lips, however, as did the clever banter he’d thought to deliver as he completed the turn and stared into the eyes of the person he’d most like to remember to forget…Millicent Sims.
Or so he thought, initially. The woman could have been Millicent’s twin sister; that’s how much alike they looked. But after the initial shock subsided, Cy realized it wasn’t she. The eyes were similar, but this woman’s nose and lips were larger. Her face was a bit fuller, the cheekbones less prominent. One thing was definitely the same, though; the woman looked at him as if he were a chicken nugget and she the dipping s
auce. He quickly excused himself and went around her, making a beeline for the cash register. A close encounter of the Millicent kind had cooled his shopping frenzy.
Moments later, he closed the rear door of his newly purchased BMW SUV. It had been hard to get him out of his Azure, but looking back it hadn’t made sense for a Bentley to be his main driving vehicle. As the salesman had promised, Cy found the BMW to be a perfect ride for jetting around the city. He fired up the engine, hit the CD button, and zoomed out of the parking lot. The sounds of Luther Vandross’s greatest hits, redone to perfection in snazzy jazz styles as a tribute to his memory, oozed out of the stereo. Cy bobbed his head as Mindi Abair got ridiculous with her alto sax version of “Stop to Love.” As he crossed lanes and merged onto the 405 Interstate, his thoughts drifted back to Millicent. His heart had nearly stopped when he thought he saw her; it had been a while since she’d crossed his mind. He wondered how she was doing, where she was. Even after “the incident,” he wished her well.
The incident. It had been a while since he’d thought about that too. But seeing Millicent’s near twin in Victoria’s Secret had brought the memories back with a vengeance. That crazy Sunday when, out of the blue, and in the middle of a regular church service, Millicent had wafted down the aisle in full wedding regalia. It had shocked everyone in the sanctuary, him most of all.
Cy had had months to replay those events in his mind, and they’d mellowed with time. Now, he thought about the Millicent Sims he knew before she’d lost her mind that Sunday morning. He remembered the way he felt when he first saw her, tall and regal with beautiful hair, flawless skin, legs forever, and a smile that made his heart skip a beat. He’d quickly asked her out, knowing those fine looks would test the limits of his celibacy vow. But it hadn’t taken him long to realize that aside from good looks and Kingdom Citizens’ Christian Center, they had little in common. He also quickly felt Millicent’s desire to take their relationship to another level, one of the physical kind. Though sorely tempted, he did the right thing and broke it off with her after a couple months. Now, however, he wondered what it would have been like to have those long legs wrapped around him, his dick tapping that flawless skin. His manhood jumped in response to these thoughts, the smaller head seconding the bigger head’s thoughts.
As Cy exited the 90 freeway into Marina Del Rey, Millicent’s words from that fateful day of their last encounter drifted through the melodies of Rick Braun’s rendition of “Dance with My Father.” He could hear them as loudly as if they were actually being spoken: Come! It is our time…. Cy’s dick went limp.
A horn honked. The red light he’d reached had turned green. Cy floored the gas pedal as if trying to outrun the memories of Millicent from that Sunday and his wandering sexual thoughts just now. He thought of Hope, physically different from Millicent yet beautiful both inside and out. His dick jumped again. He massaged it mindlessly, even as he once again tried to divert his thoughts and calm “Mr. Man” down. Man, sleeping next to my baby is gonna be hard tonight!
As Cy turned into his garage, he smiled. A yellow MG sat parked in the stall next to his. Hope. What an appropriate name she’d been given, because hope was exactly what she’d given him. Hope that he could have the love he’d always envisioned, that he’d seen his parents experience. Hope that he could find someone both spiritual and sexy, who could love God like an angel and love him like a courtesan. He now had no doubt that that was exactly what he had in the chocolate pudding waiting upstairs for him. They’d agreed to remain celibate until their wedding took place, but that hadn’t prevented them from getting to know each other. He hadn’t played the piano, but he’d definitely stroked the keys.
Cy turned the key and activated the elevator to the penthouse floor. Humming to himself, he looked at the lingerie packet and Tiffany box he’d concealed in a plain brown bag. He wanted to see her in something different every night of their honeymoon, before he saw her in nothing but his arms.
The house was quiet as he went inside. “Hey, baby,” he called out, noting the silence of the almost always playing stereo. He entered the large open space that was the living, dining, and den area. No Hope. He continued to the kitchen, where he saw the note as soon as he turned the corner:
Hey, Baby, tried to reach you on your cell. I’m with Frieda. Hollah.
Love you, Hope
He set down the packages, pulled the cell phone from his briefcase, and noted a couple of missed calls. Belatedly, he remembered how poor the cell phone reception was in some of the mall stores. Smiling, he hid Hope’s honeymoon package in the closet and decided to fix a protein drink before calling his baby. Yes, Hope was the woman he wanted to be thinking about, the one he wanted on his mind. He hoped Millicent was happy, but she was his past. The woman occupying number one on his speed dial was his future.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2009 by Lutishia Lovely
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-5852-6
Table of Contents
Cover
Also by Lutishia Lovely
Title Page
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGING MY READERS
1 Is That You?
2 In the Way
3 Don’t Pass Me By
4 Always and Never
5 Distractions
6 Indirect Connections
7 Love Struck
8 Kingdom Citizens
9 Her Name Is Not Stella But…
10 Former Best Friends
11 Too Late for Games
12 Crazy LA Traffic
13 Project Darius
14 Marital Obligations
15 Just a Little More
16 Save Her from Herself
17 Dirty Laundry
18 Bi the Way
19 Take Care
20 Everything Except…
21 Mira
22 First Instincts
23 An Expert at Everything
24 A Different Set of Keys
25 Innocent Preacher’s Kid
26 Happy Thanksgiving?
27 Thicker than Water
28 Grown Folk
29 Be All Right
30 Meetings
31 Personal Matters
32 It’s a Thin Line…
33 I Am Not Okay
34 O Lord, My Strength
35 I’m Right Here
36 Why You Trippin’?
37 Trauma Drama
38 Happy Birthday, Jesus
39 What Child Is This
40 Christmas Just Ain’t Christmas…
41 Dreams and Nightmares
42 What You Pray For
43 Not My Business
44 Happy New Year
45 Accidents Happen
46 No Spring Chicken
47 Because It’s Fact
48 Unrealistic Reality
49 Bigger Fish
50 Time Will Tell
51 LA Gospel
52 Life as I Know It
53 A Little Help
54 It’s a Boy!
55 Greetings
56 God’s Love
57 It’s a Start
58 Staying Alive
59 No Place like Home
60 Someone’s Passion
Discussion Questions
Copyright
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