Royal

by Tina Martin

  Gemma nodded. “Speaking of working with family, I’m going to help out Gianna around the bakery a lil’ bit.”

  “When are you starting that?”

  Gemma shrugged. “I’ll probably go there with her in the morning just to observe.”

  “Are you sure it’s what you want to do?”

  “What? Working with Gianna at the bakery?”

  “Yes. It doesn’t come across as your thing.”

  “It’s not, but I know Gianna needs the help and I could never, ever, e-ver repay my sister for everything she’s done for me.”

  Royal could detect the quiver in her voice when she made the statement. The truthfulness of it. “You love your sister. I can tell.”

  Gemma smiled. “I do. She never gave up on me. I mean, I tease her about smothering me and stuff, but she’s like a mother to me. She’s the best with her quirky little self.”

  “She is a sweetheart...just what my brother needs. She’s definitely helped him out a lot.”

  “How?” Gemma asked, stirring the remainder of her oatmeal.

  “Ramsey is one of those hardcore, real-deal, no-nonsense businessmen. He could have a good rapport with a business for years, but the one time they slip, it ain’t nothing for him to cut ‘em loose. And he’ll fire you in a heartbeat. He was firing people left and right at one point like it was a sport and he was the MVP.”

  She chuckled. “He was that bad?”

  “He was until he met your sister. She helped his moods a great deal.”

  “That’s nice. That’s how you know they’re good together. One balances out the other.”

  “Yeah,” Royal said. He drank some water.

  “What about you, Royal? Who balances you out?”

  As if he hadn’t heard her question, he stared at her for a few seconds playing with the bottle cap to his water bottle then replied, “I’ve been busy working. That keeps me balanced.” Royal finished his water then asked her, “Would you like some more oatmeal?”

  “No. This was good. Thank you for making it for me.”

  “You’re welcome, Gemma.”

  Gemma took a drink of water and glanced up at him again. He was still staring. “What’s on tap for today?” she asked.

  “You tell me, diamond girl.”

  “Diamond girl—that’s a new one,” she said trying not to blush.

  “We can do whatever, though,” he told her. “We can just chill around here if you would like. I don’t want to tire you out.”

  “I’m okay for now,” she said, “Or you can do something without me, you know.”

  “What if I don’t want to do anything without you?” he asked while shooting her a penetrating gaze, hoping she’d read the implication in his eyes. He didn’t want to do anything without her.

  “Um, well in that case—”

  “I tell you what…” he cut her off. “Why don’t we just hang out here, then later, we’ll go to dinner before I take you back to Ramsey’s place. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “That way, you can get your nap in, right?”

  She smiled. “Right.”

  Royal stood up and grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge, at which time Gemma found herself looking, more like gawking at his body again. Sweet mercy. He was nothing but pure male strength and confidence.

  As if knowing she was staring at him, he turned around and stared back, opening the water bottle with his eyes fixed on her. It was around this time that she saw an old scar on his lower torso near the waistband of his sweatpants – one she’d never seen before since he was usually fully clothed around her.

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

  He followed her eyes and looked down at himself. Frowned. “What’s what?” he asked. Surely she wasn’t talking about his…

  “That,” she said pointing to his scar.

  “Oh. That.” He smiled. “I thought you were talking about something else.”

  “Oh?” She blushed. “No. I didn’t mean that. I’m talking about the scar.”

  “Ah…the scar.” He sat down again. “When I was twenty, I was in a car accident.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah. It was one of those rare times it snowed in Charlotte and the accumulation of four inches actually stuck around for a while. As you’ll learn, people in Charlotte already can’t drive, let alone on a slick sheet of ice. So, a car comes along speeding down Hawthorne Lane then crashed right into the back of me…hit me so hard, my car flipped over. I was gouged by some glass…lost blood…”

  “Oh my God!”

  He smirked. “Why do you look so scared? I’m fine now.”

  “I know. It’s just shocking and scary to hear.”

  “It did rattle me, but I’m fine. And that was five years ago, so…”

  “Gee, maybe I should wait to get my license.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. Your life has been on hold long enough. You’re getting your license, Gemma.”

  She cracked a smile. “You say that like your word is law.”

  “It is where you are concerned.” He took a drink of water and shot her a pair of challenging eyes, waiting for her to defy him. That defiance never came. That pleased him. It meant she was starting to understand him. To concede to his wishes. “I’m going to take a shower, but I want to give you something to think about.”

  “What’s that, Royal?”

  He stood up and stretched his arms up in the air.

  Gemma took in the flexing of his brawny muscles and the dark, thick hair under his armpits. “I want you to think about what you want to do with your life?”

  Gemma shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “I know you don’t. That’s why I want you to think about it. And be ready to tell me what you come up with later,” he said, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving her there at the island.

  Chapter 4

  As he knew she would, Gemma fell asleep on the bed in the guest bedroom right at lunchtime. As he’d done last night, he walked there to watch her rest. Admiring her this way was becoming a habit for him and she gave him plenty of time to do so. She’d slept right up until dinner, and even then he had to wake her up to eat by stroking his fingertips along the side of her face and whispering directly into her ear.

  She took a moment to fully wake herself up by washing her face and checking her phone. Then she joined him in the living room.

  “Did you bring a jacket?” he asked.

  “No. Are we going out?”

  “Yes. The restaurant is right around the corner and I thought it would be nice to walk if you’re up for it.”

  “Yeah. I can walk.”

  “Okay. It’s a lil’ chilly, so…” Royal took off his red and black leather Yves Saint Laurent jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

  “Ooh…I feel so special,” she said, drowning in his jacket that smelled just like him. Mmm. “Thank you, Royal.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She stepped into the flats she’d left by the front door and they started the walk to the restaurant. It couldn’t have been no more than ten minutes and they were already at Summit. Royal pulled out a chair and made sure Gemma was comfortable before he sat down. He told the waitress to bring water, cranberry juice and one order of barbecue shrimp for an appetizer.

  “Cranberry juice?” Gemma asked when the waitress walked away.

  “In lieu of alcohol. Yes.”

  “You can order a drink if you want, Royal. Don’t let me stop you.”

  “I’m good.” He took a long look at Gemma. She was looking around, checking out the place since this was her first time here. He felt honored to be the one to introduce her to new things and places.

  “Gemma.”

  She focused her attention on him. Automatically, a smile came to her face. “Yes?”

  “What do you really know about me other than the fact that I’m extremely good looking and work for St. Claire Architects?” Royal asked a
nd had the gall to flash that remarkable smile of his.

  She raised a brow. “Extremely good looking, Royal?”

  “You disagree?”

  “No, but gee…I ain’t calling no name, but somebody is full of their self.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve had enough women fall to my feet to know how you women view me.”

  “Yeah, like those women over there staring at you right now. I see you got your own fan club. You must be popular around here in Dilworth.”

  He shrugged lazily. “Honestly, the worst thing a woman can do to get my attention is stare at me. I hate it.”

  She didn’t believe him. “You hate it?”

  “Very much so.”

  She chuckled. “You’re such a hypocrite, Royal.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you don’t like to be stared at, but I know for a fact you like to stare at people.”

  “No, not people. You.”

  She ducked her head back, surprised by his blunt admission. “Me?”

  “Yes. You.” A smile grew on his face, then he continued, “I’m a troubleshooter by occupation but sometimes, my work filters into my personal life. And since I feel personally responsible for not realizing you were burning up with a fever that day at Ramsey’s house, I feel it’s my duty to ensure your well being, especially when we’re together. That’s why I stare at you so often. It’s my way of learning you. Of picking up on things you won’t say. Like right now, I’ve picked up on the fact that you’re still tired, even though you slept for nearly six hours. Am I right?”

  “Yes. I am still a little fatigued, but I’ll live.”

  The waitress brought over their drinks and the shrimp then took their dinner orders. Gemma ordered the crusted salmon while Royal went for a more filling dish – the New York strip.

  “Thank you, Gemma said to the waitress then opened a straw for her water.

  Royal took a sip of water and tossed a shrimp into his mouth. “After three months, what do you know about me, Gemma?”

  “Oh, so this is the kind of dinner we’re having. A question-and-answer type thing.”

  “No. Just conversation and I want to know how well you know me.”

  Gemma cleared her throat, up for the challenge. “Well, I know you’re smart. You love your family. You’re loyal. You’re a laid back kind of guy…you don’t stress over much.”

  He nodded. “That’s a good start, but I want you to know more about me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want our friendship to be one of those on-the-surface type situations. Friendships don’t survive where there is no deeper connection. No foundation. I want you to have a connection with me.”

  “I do have a connection wit’cho big head.”

  He smiled endearingly at her. He was trying to be serious, and he knew she knew that, so in true Gemma fashion, she attempted to keep the conversation light, but he persisted. “It’s not as strong as it could be, Gem. I don’t want you to be friends with me just because my brother is married to your sister. I want you to be friends with me because you want to be—because you value me and vice versa. Because you want to be around me and actually enjoy the time we spend together. We can’t get to that level if we never break the ice.”

  “And I suppose being by my bedside for days, feeding me chicken noodle soup by the tablespoon and rubbing your hands across my bald head wasn’t enough ice breaking.”

  “You were sick. I was being there for you…making myself available for you, but honestly, Gemma, I didn’t know you. I came to the hospital out of guilt. I was concerned for you, yes, but I also felt guilty. A troubleshooter should always know when trouble is looming, and I failed you.”

  “What are you talking about? You didn’t fail me, Royal.”

  “Well, I feel like I did.” Royal took a sip of cranberry juice, shaking the ice cubes in the small glass after he did so.

  “I was already sick, and you’re not a doctor. Just because you’re a troubleshooter doesn’t mean you’re a superhero who’s supposed to strap on a cape and fly all around Charlotte saving people from tragedy.”

  He smirked while picking up another shrimp, reaching across the small, round table, holding it in front of her mouth.

  “No, thank you,” Gemma told him.

  “C’mom. Taste it.”

  “Grr…I hate it when you do that.”

  Ignoring her growls, Royal said, “Open up.”

  Gemma sighed heavily then opened her mouth and leaned forward to grab the shrimp with her teeth. She chewed and said, “Mmm…that’s good.”

  “See. You should be grateful that I make you try new things,” he told her.

  She took another shrimp. “So, since I don’t know the deeper things about you, how do I find out those things?”

  “Ask me questions,” Royal said. “Go ahead. Anything you want to know.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

  He chuckled. “I open up the gate for you to ask me anything and you want to know about a girlfriend.”

  “Well, yeah. You said it yourself…you’re extremely good looking, yet, no woman.”

  “I chose to be single. Next question.”

  She chuckled. “No, don’t gloss over that one so fast. Let’s get deeper,” she teased.

  Royal leaned back in his chair and stroked his mustache. “Okay. Fine. I don’t have a girlfriend because the women I meet aren’t…genuine. It’s my belief that when you’re looking for someone to share your life with, you should see that person for who they are…not what they dress themselves up to be. I could go out here and pick a woman and peg her as mine, but what would I really have if all she’s concerned with are the superficial things in life?”

  “I thought men liked superficial? The prettiest girl gets the best looking man and that’s that.”

  “Gemma, just because you’re addicted to romance movies doesn’t make you an expert on love and relationships.”

  “Excuse me, but have you seen Just Wright?”

  “You just made me watch it two weeks ago.” He chuckled.

  “Okay, so you know that Common’s character was feeling Queen Latifah’s character, but he went for her cousin, Paula Patton. Why? Because Paula was prettier. Louder. Made up. Skinny. Fit. She had everything needed to appeal to a man’s eyes. Physical attraction always comes first, at least for men.”

  “That’s not one-hundred percent true, and before you tell me all the reasons you’re right, let me say this. Last year, I went to some fancy gala that Ramsey invited me to…something related to architecture…I forget. Anyway, this woman had been eyeing me all night. She was pretty, nice body—she had the looks, but whenever she opened her mouth, a swear word came out. She was cussin’ like a hardcore rapper. From what you know about me, do you think I would find that attractive in a woman?”

  “Well, considering I’ve never heard you use a swear word, I’d say no.”

  He clapped. “Guess you do know a lil’ something about me.”

  The waitress set their entrees on the table then after refilling their glasses with water, she left the table again.

  “Now that you’ve piqued my interest, I would like to know more deeper things,” Gemma said.

  Royal was cutting his steak. “Okay.”

  “Tell me about your last girlfriend. How long were you together and why did you break up?”

  He chewed for a moment, then after sipping more cranberry juice, he said, “Oh, that’s an easy one. My last girlfriend was beautiful. She was intelligent. She had an impressive career. She was the complete package. We were together for six months.”

  “Why did it end?”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

  “Seriously? Sounds like to me you had the perfect woman and all of a sudden, you weren’t feeling it?”

  “No, I wasn’t. Call me crazy, but I like a woman who has flaws. Who’s complicated. I don’t seek perfection. I look for str
ength. Integrity. Loyalty. I like a woman who keeps me on my toes. Who makes me look deep within myself to see what I’m really made of—not a woman who tries to impress me.”

  “In other words, you like a chick with issues.”

  “If that’s the way you want to put it.” He ate another chunk of his steak after dipping it in A1 sauce. “What about you, Gemma?”

  She laughed. “I know you’re not asking me if I’ve ever been in a relationship.”

  “I am. And how long did that relationship last?”

  “Very funny, Royal.”

  “Do you see me laughing?”

  She glanced up at him. No, he wasn’t laughing. He was serious again – as serious as he was this morning. Gemma wiped her mouth and said, “I’ve never been in a relationship. There’s your answer.”

  “Never?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why do you think?” she asked. The answer should’ve been obvious. “Who would want to date a sick, bald-headed chick?”

  Royal grimaced. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

  “It’s true. Who would want to date a sick person? Especially somebody sick with cancer? Anyway, no, I haven’t been in a relationship and I don’t plan on ever being in one.”

  “Why would you do that to yourself?”

  She shrugged. “You did it. You’re perfectly fine and you’re single. At least I have a valid reason for being single.”

  “I never said I would write off the chance of finding love. You’re telling me it’s not an option for you.”

  Gemma massaged her temples.

  “I’m frustrating you,” Royal said.

  “It’s cool. I don’t expect you to understand.” Gemma glanced over at Royal’s fan club of women. They were still looking over at the table, catching glimpses of him. “And it’s not so much about me. I know me. I know who I am. I know I have nothing, absolutely nothing of value to add to a relationship, which is also why I’m not thinking about one, but I also know that if by some stroke of lightning chance I was in a relationship, he—whoever he would be—is the one who would be doing the suffering. Can you imagine being in love with someone and taking them back and forth to the doctor, not knowing what will happen to them from one day to the next? I wouldn’t want to put someone through that.”