Callie stared at Bryan, seemingly transfixed as her sisters’ chatter increased to a feverish pitch. Though he generally wore only black, today he was wearing an indigo blue long-sleeved tee-shirt that only intensified the vivid color of his eyes. His black jeans delineated every muscle in those incredible thighs, and her pulse was again sent skipping with images of those thighs locked between her own in an erotic mating dance. When she was fairly certain that she could speak without her voice cracking, she suggested that her sisters join their parents outside. Addie and Cynthia pouted, but reluctantly acquiesced.
Bryan walked slowly into the room with his usual loose-limbed grace, his eyes intently focused on her own until he was within touching distance. Callie, her own eyes widening with alarm, moved nervously away from him. Though she’d never experienced it before, she felt she was being stalked. His gaze never wavering, Bryan moved closer again, and then again. Each time he came closer, Callie backed away until finally she abruptly fetched up against the counter. Bryan brushed gently against her, sending tremors through her whole body.
“Bryan, what are you…”
“Shhhh.” He gently took her face between his hands and leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. “Open for me, baby,” he murmured insistently.
When Callie felt his tongue licking delicately at her lips, she couldn’t suppress a gasp, giving him the access he craved. He softly caressed her tongue with his own, trying desperately to keep the kiss tender. It was all he could do not to eat her alive, but he knew that he could easily frighten her off if he weren’t careful. If he was to have any chance at all with her, he would have to temper the fierce desire raging through his body. Even as he realized this, he couldn’t resist the urge to press his body into hers; he had longed to feel her against him for so long.
After a moment’s hesitation, Callie moaned softly and gave Bryan even greater access to her mouth and body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her tongue followed his back into his mouth. She could feel electrical shocks everywhere her body touched his and couldn’t resist prolonging the contact.
Her response heightened Bryan’s own pleasure, and he began devouring her. His tongue caressed the roof of her mouth, and he inhaled her moan of pleasure. His hands slipped down to her hips, pressing even closer, until suddenly he realized that the kiss was exceeding the bounds of decency permissible in her parents’ kitchen. He moved his hands back to her face and broke the kiss, looking down at her lovingly.
“Callie, open your eyes,” he commanded, his raw voice so roughened by desire that his whisper was barely intelligible. Callie looked up at him dazedly. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and Bryan strained under the almost superhuman effort it took to resist the urge to take up where they had left off. When he was certain he had her full attention, he continued, “Callie, I’m not playing with you.” Then he released her and moved slowly away.
Callie leaned against the counter, trying feverishly to catch her breath. Every nerve ending in her body sizzled and sparked. Reaching up to touch her hair, certain that it had to be standing on end, she gaped at Bryan, unable to think clearly enough to form a single sentence.
At that moment, the back door swung open and Callie’s parents entered the kitchen, bringing her abruptly back to her senses. She hastily made the introductions, forcefully keeping her voice light and casual. Her scattered mind could only focus on one thing; her parents could never discover what had just happened in their kitchen, or she’d never hear the end of it.
After placing the cooked meat on the counter, Jesse Lawson crossed the room and grasped Bryan’s hand in his own. Bryan studied Callie’s parents closely, realizing that while she looked a great deal like her mother, she took her height from her father. Jesse was a large, burly man, with skin that gleamed with the same tones as his younger daughters. He and Bryan were similar in height, but Jesse outweighed Bryan considerably. Despite his age, his hair showed only touches of gray, and the laugh lines around his eyes indicated that he was a man who generally saw the humor in life. Unfortunately, he made no effort to hide the fact that he didn’t find anything amusing about the current situation.
As he took Bryan’s hand Jesse could feel the sexual tension coming off him in waves and turned sharply to look at his daughter. Callie moved quickly to the counter to help her mother set up trays of food, thereby avoiding her father’s eye. Edith, blissfully unaware that anything untoward was occurring, chattered away about their guests. Having decided that he needed to take the measure of his daughter’s friend, Jesse offered Bryan a beer and then invited him to follow him into the den to watch the pre-game show. Callie watched them depart with a sinking feeling. Why did she suddenly feel like Kate Winslet in Titanic watching poor Leonardo DiCaprio being submerged by the icy waves?
* * *
In the den, the real grilling began. Jesse wanted to know all the particulars about Bryan, including his background. Bryan was brutally honest, knowing instinctively that Callie’s father would tolerate nothing less. He had no doubt that his family history would be problematic for this close-knit clan, but he felt he had no choice but be truthful. He acknowledged that he didn’t know where his father was, and that his mother had stopped speaking to him after he kicked yet another abusive boyfriend out of the house he provided for her. Though they had no contact, he continued to pay her expenses, but had little hope for reconciliation. He recounted the tale of growing up on the wrong side of town and forming a band with his best friend Brodie, and then Brodie’s death.
Jesse listened intently, interrupting only to clarify a point, or when one of the guests wandered into the room.
Finally Bryan paused, waiting for Jesse to respond to what he’d said. Instead, there was a prolonged silence. Bryan reached up and pulled lightly at his ponytail, unnerved by the deafening disapproval he sensed from Callie’s father.
“Bryan, I appreciate the fact that you’ve been straight with me, so I’ll return the favor; I don’t like the idea of my daughter seeing a white man. All my life I’ve seen white men use and discard black women. I don’t believe for one moment that you have any decent intentions towards my daughter!” he said forcefully.
Bryan bristled angrily. “Mr. Lawson, that’s not…”
“Are you interrupting me, son?” Jesse asked in a dangerously soft voice.
Bryan recognized that tone. He’d heard it many times from B.T. He hastily swallowed and shook his head.
Jesse narrowed his eyes into a baleful glare as he resumed speaking. “Do you think I don’t know what was going on in my own kitchen before Callie’s mother and I came in?”
Bryan blushed profusely and took a sip of beer.
“I’m not so old that I don’t know when a man is all twitchy around my daughter. You came into my house and didn’t even have the decency to keep your hands to yourself!” Jesse finished forcefully.
Bryan could feel the cold sweat trickling down his back. Why the hell was he putting up with this? Normally he didn’t take this type of crap from anybody but B.T. If he’d wanted to get his ass kicked, he could’ve just stayed at home and let B.T. pistol-whip him.
Jesse continued, “Now, as I was saying, I don’t like the fact that Callie has chosen to see a white man. The fact that you’re some drug-using rock star from California makes it even worse. But Callie is her own woman. After all, she is her mother’s daughter, and strong-willed as all get out, so I have to let her kill her own rattlesnakes.”
Bryan raised his brows. He was pretty sure he’d been called a reptile, but didn’t dare quibble at this point.
As Jesse continued, his deep thunderous voice reverberated with positively deific tones, “I won’t mistreat you, because you’re somebody’s child, and I wouldn’t want anybody mistreating my child. But I’m telling you right here and now, boy, if my baby so much as cries while she’s cutting up an onion, the only thing that’ll be left of you is your haint. Do you hear me?”
“I understand completely,” Bry
an gritted through clenched teeth. “Now may I say something?”
Jesse looked surprised that Bryan dared to speak up, but he slowly nodded his consent.
“Sir, I just want you to understand that I care for your daughter and want a chance to prove that to you. Whether you believe it or not, I will take care of her.”
Jesse rubbed his chin, glaring at Bryan from under his thick brows. He had to give the boy his reluctant admiration for having the gumption to speak up. Any number of young men in his position would have backed down. “I suppose time will tell,” he conceded begrudgingly.
Jesse Lawsons’s assumptions that he planned to use and exploit Callie left Bryan angry and frustrated. Obviously the man didn’t know his daughter; she’d kick his ass all the way back to L.A. if he tried any funny business with her! He couldn’t miss the irony of the situation; he who had never had honorable intentions towards a woman in his life had to confront skepticism the one time he actually did mean to do right by a woman. The distrust didn’t surprise him, though. There were times when he doubted himself. He’d been expecting this question and had spent hours trying to formulate a response. He wanted Callie, but given his track record, he didn’t know if he could sustain a relationship with a decent girl. Despite his intentions to be forthright with Callie’s father, he didn’t plan to tell him about his own misgivings.
Jesse leaned back and continued staring at Bryan intently, as if he were a puzzle he was trying to decipher. After what seemed like an eternity, he simply nodded his head, then turned to watch the game.
Bryan sensed that he had passed some type of test, but as he’d never been through such a ritual, he couldn’t decipher its meaning. He understood that Mr. Lawson had tried to intimidate him and frighten him away from his daughter and that by not budging, he’d earned some type of merit badge. He closed his eyes momentarily, relieved to have emerged from this particular minefield relatively unscathed. He knew that he and Jesse had communicated on some primal level and that he would be tolerated as long as he didn’t mess up. It was certainly more than he had expected and possibly more than he deserved. He had to suppress an inappropriate grin. Leaning back on the sofa, he relaxed and began watching the game also.
* * *
When Callie brought more food into the dining room, she cautiously glanced over at the sofa where her father and Bryan sat in companionable silence, presumably watching the game. She hadn’t heard any major uproars from the kitchen, so she’d peeked in on them a couple of times and found them conversing in a reasonably civil tone. She knew from experience, however, that her father could dress someone down without speaking harshly or even raising his voice. Most of their guests had also drifted into the den and sat around the large screen television. Some of them glanced curiously over at Bryan, but as most of them were her parents’ age, there was no real fear of them recognizing him. Some wondered what a white man was doing at the Lawson’s house, but apparently accepted Bryan as a friend of Callie’s.
Callie had to smile at the sight of her sisters sitting on the love seat perpendicular to Bryan, totally enraptured by his presence. The young men they had invited to the party sat on the arms of the seat with looks of utter disgust on their faces. They didn’t recognize Bryan as a celebrity and were simply annoyed that their dates were apparently besotted with their sister’s boyfriend.
Bryan looked over his shoulder as she approached and stood up. “Come on, Callie, you can have my seat.”
Callie took his place on the sofa, expecting him to seek out one of the other chairs in the room. Instead he sat on the floor at her feet, leaning his head against her legs. When Jesse Lawson left the room for a moment, Bryan tilted his head back and whispered a question. “Callie, what’s a haint?”
* * *
Callie lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. It had been quite late when the party ended and by the time she had helped clean up, she was too tired to go home. So she stayed at her parents’ house in her old bedroom. The bookstore took up so much of her time, she didn’t have many opportunities to spend time with her folks anymore, so she usually enjoyed it. On this particular occasion, however, her sisters’ constant chatter and desire to share confidences until the wee hours had done nothing but wear on nerves already sensitized by Bryan’s kiss. Undoubtedly most of their guests today were probably wondering about her unaccustomed distraction. She’d been totally incapable of maintaining the thread of coherent conversation, and had repeatedly had to ask ?” in all but the most pithy exchanges. She supposed they would all chalk it up to that nervous breakdown her mother had been predicting ever since she opened the store. Throughout the entire day she couldn’t think of anything but Bryan’s comment after that brain-stealing kiss: “Callie, I’m not playing with you.”
Well, if he wasn’t playing, what was he doing? Callie was not a virgin, she had had what she and Tonya called an “unfortunate encounter,” in college. Both she and the guy had been so nervous that it hadn’t been a sterling experience for either of them. While she had a normal sex drive, and had dated some very attractive men, she hadn’t met anyone who aroused her sufficiently to make her want to repeat the experience.
If she and Bryan had continued in the kitchen, they would’ve made love, and she wasn’t altogether sure she would’ve cared if someone had walked in on them. She reflected on the past couple of months and the friendship they had enjoyed. Apparently what she had thought of as a casual relationship had been something entirely different to him. Of course, Bryan could simply be lying. God knows he wouldn’t be the first man to say what he thought a woman wanted to hear to get into her panties. But that defied logic. After all, the man was a superstar and didn’t have to lie to get laid. So simple, deductive reasoning forced her to conclude that he meant what he said.
Callie rolled over in bed, grunting in frustration. All the logic in the world didn’t help if the conclusions she reached made no sense. Damn! She might as well call Psychic Hotline! She simply couldn’t figure out why Bryan would choose her. Callie was a realist. She knew she was a pretty girl, some men had even told her she was beautiful, but she always took that with a grain of salt. But Bryan had access to absolutely stunning women. Women totally out of her league. Magazine articles gave detailed rundowns on his love life, and it was an impressive list of famous actresses, models, and rock stars. One even said he was once engaged to a porn star. How could she possibly compete with that? She wrinkled her nose with distaste. Did she even want to?
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Three o’clock. Thank God the store was closed on Sundays. It was clear that she wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
Chapter 7
“I’m absolutely not believing this! The one time I decide to miss the party to stay home and write, you and that walking wet dream who’s been following you around for months get your swerve on in the kitchen of your mama’s house! While I’m slogging away, trying to get the murderer out of a locked room, you and old boy are bumping uglies. It’s just not right!” Tonya exclaimed, almost spilling her coffee in her excitement. Tonya had decided to add a twist to the classic locked-room mystery. In this story her poor victim actually vanished from a locked room of a high-rise apartment with no visible means of escape. Callie was dying to know how she planned to resolve the story, but Tonya would never reveal her endings. She said it was bad luck, but Callie suspected that she simply didn’t know yet.
Callie had left her folks’ home before the rest of the family awakened. After a sleepless night, she’d decided to go home to talk to Tonya. The kitchen of their apartment had seen more than its fair share of these types of heart-to-heart discussions, and she knew that she could benefit from Tonya’s greater experience and forthright honesty. Tonya had groused a bit when Callie awakened her, but she had gotten up readily enough when she realized that Callie finally wanted to discuss Bryan.
Like most of their apartment, the kitchen had a type of retro appeal with most of the furniture and accessories dating from the
fifties and sixties. Though it looked very fashionable, they’d simply taken advantage of their family and friends’ renovations and claimed the discards. Tonya had a flair for decorating, and the kitchen had accents of bright yellow and pink. Callie often joked that it looked like the banana and strawberry taffy from their childhood. The chrome formica table and the yellow vinyl chairs with chrome legs had been found in her Aunt Catherine’s basement. The retro-50s chic had set the tone for the entire kitchen.
Callie got up to pour herself another cup of coffee. “We did not get our swerve on, Tonya!” Close, but not close enough, she thought to herself. The throbbing still had not ceased twelve hours after the encounter. Would she have survived actual lovemaking? Wrinkling her nose with distaste she continued, “And what kind of expression is ‘bumping uglies’?” She began to pace in front of the counter, sloshing coffee with every other step.
Tonya just shrugged and watched Callie bemusedly, certain that she had no idea of the mess following in her wake. Neat to a fault, Callie never failed to mop up even the smallest spill. Tonya smiled gently and waited for her friend to rejoin her at the table.
Callie stopped pacing and dropped her head dejectedly. “Tonya, I’m so confused.”
Tonya shook her head, astonished at what lust had done to her usually down-to-earth friend. Callie had always been the practical, sensible one. When they were in school, Tonya had gone from one relationship to another, always convinced that her new guy was “the one,” only to be sadly disappointed time and time again. Callie, on the other hand, had refused to let anyone or anything distract her from her goals. She had rarely dated and had never been in love. Everyone went to her for sage advice about their own travails. Tonya had known her all her life and had never seen her this discomfited. If her friend weren’t so dejected, she knew she’d be howling with laughter at this point. Maintaining her composure with great difficulty, she patted the other seat. “Okay, girl, sit down. Come on over here and tell Tonya all about it.”
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