Be My Hope: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 7)

Home > Other > Be My Hope: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 7) > Page 19
Be My Hope: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 7) Page 19

by Nia Arthurs


  What if I’m just hearing what I want to hear because I have feelings for him? Feelings don’t mean crap. Emotions can’t guarantee faithfulness or commitment. Not when they’re so easy to change.

  I should know.

  I know that so freaking well.

  If I bring Brett home and he starts hanging around my family, he’ll see Kenny. He’ll notice my beautiful, lighter-skinned, curvier older sister.

  And the same thing will happen again.

  He’ll choose her instead.

  “No.” I step back. “No, I can’t. This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Why?” he challenges.

  “Because I’m not a model.”

  His eyebrow arches. “What?”

  “I'm not a rich heiress or a stunning fashionista. I wear practical clothes.” I glance down at my sensible loafers. “And I have a normal job. And I don’t like partying or going to clubs or—”

  He laughs. “T, what are you saying?”

  “I don’t have a big butt,” I blurt.

  “What?”

  I glance away, my cheeks heating.

  I can’t believe I just said that.

  Brett looks me over, desire in his eyes. “I love your body.” His voice is rough when he says, “You know that.”

  “No.” I swallow hard. “I’m not right for you.”

  “That’s not what you mean.” He moves toward me.

  I back up.

  Slam against the trunk of a tree.

  There’s nowhere to go.

  Brett’s massive body hovers over me. He’s lingering close but not touching.

  I can feel the heat emanating off him.

  It’s intimate and intimidating all in the same breath.

  He reaches out. Tips my chin up. “What are you really afraid of?”

  “Please…”

  “Tell me.”

  He’s crashing a sledgehammer around the walls of my heart. Unearthing the traps that I set for anyone who’d dare to creep close. He’s unravelling me.

  “Say it, Tierra.”

  “I’m afraid,” I murmur, tears forming in my eyes, “that I won’t be enough.”

  He makes a sound low in his throat.

  A growl of disagreement.

  Of anger.

  I can read his thoughts. He wants to go find Anthony and Kenesha. He wants to punish them for what they did to me. For making me into this insecure, pathetic version of myself.

  “You’re wrong. T, you’re worth choosing.” Brett strokes my cheek. “So, so worth it. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

  My eyebrows arch.

  “It’s true. To have someone so kind, compassionate and selfless even look at a stubborn guy like me, that’s a damn miracle.”

  “You forget your questionable taste in music,” I murmur.

  His lips ease up into a breathtaking smile. “I love you.”

  I ease my chin down.

  Feel the words pulsing in my heart.

  Brett lifts my head up again. “I love you.”

  “I…”

  Before I can say it back, my phone rings.

  It shatters the stillness.

  Totally obliterates the moment.

  I pull it out of my pocket and cringe. “It’s my mom.”

  Brett sighs and steps back.

  I answer, turning slightly away from him and hissing into the phone. “What, ma?”

  “Tierra, you need to come to the house right now.”

  Her urgent voice makes me stiffen. “Mom?”

  Brett arches an eyebrow, picking up on my slight panic.

  “What’s going on?” I shriek.

  “Kenesha and Anthony are fighting.”

  Relief seeps through my chest. “They’re always fighting. Why is that—?”

  “Your sister just pulled a knife.”

  My eyes meet Brett’s. I reach for him blindly.

  Kenny, what have you done?

  Thirty-Two

  Brett

  Tierra explains what’s going on as we rush to her mother’s house.

  “You don’t have to come inside,” she says as I round the bend and throw the car into park. “If you…"

  “I’ll be right there with you.” I squeeze her hand.

  She gives me a grateful smile and scrambles out of the car.

  As we rush up the short stairs and storm through the front door, I brace myself. My father’s murder is a constant movie reel in my head. The horror of seeing his blood drain over the floor. The crazed gleam in my mother’s eyes. It’s all so fresh. So freaking vivid.

  I don’t want to relive that.

  But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving Tierra’s side.

  Not now.

  She needs me.

  And I’ll be there for her.

  I love her.

  She’s my family now.

  And that means everything.

  “Tierra!” her mother shrieks as we charge into the living room.

  The woman in front of me has warm brown skin, big brown eyes and very few wrinkles. If not for the way she throws herself over to Tierra and clings to her, I wouldn’t have guessed they were related.

  Jerking my gaze away from Tierra’s mother, I notice the tense stand-off happening in the kitchen. There’s a woman in a pair of low shorts and a tank-top.

  Her back is to me, but I can see that she has light brown skin and long black hair.

  In her hand, she wields a knife.

  She’s holding it straight out.

  Not the best way to stab someone but, from the blood dripping out of a small wound on the guy’s arm, I can tell that she’s pissed off enough to do some serious damage.

  Can’t say I’m completely against that.

  I train my eyes on Anthony, Tierra’s ex. The one who betrayed her and made her feel like she didn’t measure up.

  After the sister’s done, I should take my turn.

  Let my fists teach him a lesson in respect and decency.

  “Kenesha!” Tierra screams. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Stay out of this, T.” Kenesha pins her sister with a crazed look.

  I jerk back.

  For a second, Kenesha’s dark skin turns pale and her hair turns a light brown. Suddenly, she’s my mother, standing in the living room with a gun pointed at our father. At our family. At our future.

  “Stop it!” Tierra cries.

  Her mother clings to her and holds her back when she tries to get close.

  I stretch my arm in Tierra’s direction and meet her eyes.

  She shakes her head no.

  I dip my chin I can do this.

  Her lips pull in and she gives me a worried nod.

  I slowly approach the couple in the kitchen. As I get closer, I notice that Anthony’s already been slashed in other places and he’s bleeding profusely from a gash on his leg.

  Kenesha’s chest heaves violently. “You freaking bastard. After you cheated on my sister, you went ahead and thought you could do the same thing to me?” She laughs darkly. “You have it all wrong. I’m not my sister. I don’t take things like that lying down. You’re going to pay for what you did.”

  “You’re crazy, woman.”

  “Yes, I am.” She wields the knife. “I’m crazy for thinking a man who’d slink around behind my sister’s back wouldn’t do the same damn thing behind mine.” She holds up the knife. The light glints off the sharp edge. "But if I’m crazy, then what does that make you, Anthony?”

  “Hey,” I call softly. “Kenesha, right?”

  She jerks around. Her brown eyes land on me and then narrow. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Brett McQueen.”

  “Brett…” she whispers my name. Recognition flares in her eyes a few seconds later. “You’re the client Tierra was screwing.”

  “I’m also the guy who loves her.”

  Kenesha throws her head back and laughs. “You do?”

  “I’m also the guy who’s mother go
t sent to prison for a crime just like this.”

  “Yes!” Anthony mewls from the floor. “I’ll send your crazy self to jail—”

  “Shut up!” Kenesha slams her heels into Anthony’s side.

  He jerks and coughs, spitting blood out of his busted lip.

  My eyes widen.

  Tierra screams, “Kenny!”

  “Look,” I talk fast, inching in between her and Anthony, “I was only a kid when it happened, but it didn’t only ruin my mother’s life. It ruined ours too.” I jut my hand out to Anthony. “Is a man like that really worth giving it all up for?”

  “He played me.” Her nostrils flare. “He made me into a fool. I hurt my sister.” She nods at Tierra. “Because I believed his stupid lies. I threw it all away and he didn’t give a damn.”

  “And he’ll pay for that.” I offer my hand and say firmly, “Give me the knife.”

  “No. I’m going to kill him.”

  “If you kill him,” I snap, “he’s dead. He won’t be able to pay for what he’s done. You’re the one who’ll suffer forever.”

  Her brown eyes fall on me and her lips twitch. A glimmer of fear seeps through the hurt.

  And I know she’s hurt.

  Because my mother was hurt too.

  “This isn’t love. This is revenge. This is bitterness. This is anger. Not at him.” I jut my chin out. “At yourself. And hurting him won’t make forgiving yourself any easier.” I keep my hand steady. Stand in front of the pathetic worm that’s groaning on the floor. “Give me the knife, Kenesha.”

  She hesitates. Her gaze moves from me to Anthony.

  She’s weighing out her options.

  While she’s distracted, I grab her wrist, snap it twice and watch the knife clatter to the ground. She grunts, but I’m too quick for her. Scooping the knife up, I stuff it into my pocket.

  Tierra rushes in and hugs her sister from behind. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I'm sorry.” Tears rush from Kenesha’s eyes. “I’m sorry, T. I felt so guilty…”

  “It’s okay.” Tierra brushes her sister’s tears away.

  “No, it’s not. How can you freaking say that?” Kenesha slams her chest. “It hurts like hell. My heart keeps screaming and it’s driving me insane. I actually loved that son of a—”

  Just then, we hear a sharp slap. Everyone turns and finds Tierra’s mother standing over Anthony. She has her thick hand up, slightly slanted and a furious expression her face.

  Anthony groans loudly. “Mrs. White!”

  “Get the hell out of my house,” she hisses. “And don’t you ever ever come back!”

  Tierra hugs her sister close. “Leave before I finish off where my sister started.”

  My lips quirk up. Pride swirls in my chest.

  Anthony stumbles to the door and disappears, fleeing into the night.

  I make a mental note to find his employer tomorrow and arrange for his termination. Since the ladies have taken care of this part, I might as well add my own punishment to the mix.

  Kenesha’s sobs reach a crescendo.

  Tierra tugs her sister to the couch and soothes her.

  I feel a presence beside me and glance down to find Mrs. White observing me intently. “Did you mean those words back there?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Do you love my daughter?”

  I straighten. Nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her eyes narrow. “And are you really a client?” She pauses. “At Make It Marriage?”

  “Yes.”

  “My daughter’s losing her job then?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “What can you do?” She looks me over, her eyes falling from my shoes to my watch to my car outside. “You’re just going to buy her things?”

  “Do you have another suggestion?”

  Mrs. H turns and watches Tierra. “She’s always sacrificing for someone. Ever since she was little, that girl never grumbled or complained about giving anything up. She just accepted it. Like it was her lot in life. It broke my heart.” Her voice gets heavy with emotion. “If you find a way to help Tierra keep her job, I’d appreciate it. She deserves to keep something for once. She deserves that.”

  “I’ll do everything I can.”

  “Good.”

  I glance at Tierra again. My woman is busy tending to her sister. Instead of sticking around on their private family moment, I decide to bid Mrs. White goodnight and quietly slip out the door.

  As I cross the lawn to my car, I hear footsteps pounding behind me.

  Tierra flies out. “Wait!”

  I spin and find her sprinting toward me. Bracing myself on instinct, I catch her when she throws her arms around my neck and leans into me. Without missing a beat, she crushes her lips to mine.

  I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her flush against me.

  Damn.

  Yes.

  This is right.

  This is everything.

  Tierra leans back, her eyes sparkling like the stars in the sky. “I didn’t get to say this earlier.”

  I arch an eyebrow.

  “I love you too,” she whispers.

  Joy explodes in me. Makes me feel like a kid on Christmas morning getting everything he wanted. More than he ever asked for. And there’s a sense of humility that accompanies that feeling. A surge of protectiveness. I won’t do anything to ever jeopardize this gift I’ve been given.

  Stroking her cheek, I murmur, “You’re killing me.”

  “I know.” She winks. “I have to go back. My sister…”

  “Go.” I kiss her temple. “I’ll call you.”

  “A booty call.” She winks.

  “An I-love-you-so much-it’s-crazy call.”

  She laughs and gives me another lingering kiss before forcing herself away and heading back inside.

  I whistle on the way to the car and smile all the way home.

  Thirty-Three

  Tierra

  My sister and I slept in the same bed the way we did when we were kids. Before Kenesha got boy-crazy. Before I started comparing myself to her. Before the distance between us was too big to gap.

  I held her while she cried from a broken heart and she kept apologizing for being the cause of mine.

  It’s strange. Though I haven’t forgotten what she and Anthony did to me, the sting is gone. It’s lost all it’s power.

  Brett healed that wound until it’s nothing but a thin scar.

  What my ex did to me has no bearing over the decisions I’ll make today or tomorrow. When I saw my sister wielding that knife, something in my head just… clicked.

  By being hurt and blocking myself off to love, I was still giving Anthony access to me. His scent coated my decisions—every time I chose fear instead of courage, every insecurity that harbored low in my soul like a cockroach skittering in the dark.

  I took that power back last tonight.

  And I feel like a weight’s been lifted off me.

  My alarm rings. I get out of the bed, noticing that Kenesha is still asleep. She’ll probably remain that way until ten, which is when she usually gets up.

  Mascara stains her face like tire tracks.

  Her eyes are swollen and puffy.

  She’s been through a hard night.

  But she’ll get through it.

  We’ll get through it together.

  I walked that ‘Betrayed By Anthony’ path once. At least this time, I won’t do it as a victim.

  Climbing out of bed, I get ready for my day.

  As I shower, I think about Brett’s confession last night.

  I can’t believe such an incredible man loves me.

  Me.

  He’s all mine.

  Totally.

  If he treats me half as well as he treated his sister, Sharon, I know I’m in good hands. Hands that will comfort me, protect me and won’t ever let me drown.

  But my happy thoughts about Brett are mixed with anxiety. What will my bosses do to me when I
tell them the truth?

  I’ll be fired. Hands-down. That’s not even a question.

  I can’t beat around the bush this time. There’s no way I’m setting Brett up with any woman. Not with the way I feel about him.

  Kayla will have no choice but to write me up and when other companies find out what I did, I’ll be a pariah in the matchmaking community. I won’t even be able to go back online and help others, not under my real name.

  I chew on my bottom lip.

  That means I’ll have to go back to a regular, soul-sucking office job.

  Stepping out of the shower, I dry off and slather my skin in my favorite body butter. Thankfully, I have a few clothes that I keep at Mom’s so I dress in a silky white shirt that looks sharp against my brown skin and put some of Mom’s gel in my hair. The gel keeps my hair down surprisingly well and I make a mental note to go to the store and get some.

  I grab my purse from the quiet living room and tiptoe out the door, intending to catch a bus.

  To my surprise, Brett’s car is already waiting outside.

  My jaw drops. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He gives me a handsome smile and puts his cell phone away. “I was just about to call you.”

  “Good morning.” Drawn to him like a magnet to steel, I press my lips to his.

  Brett moans against my mouth. “Mm. Good morning, indeed.”

  “You didn’t have to pick me up.”

  “Yes I did.” He wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “I missed you.”

  My body melts against his. “Be careful, Mr. McQueen. I just might call in a sick day and play hookie with you.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He kisses my temple. “Should we go to my place now?”

  I swat at him. “I was just kidding. I need to go to work.”

  I need to hand in my resignation.

  Brett gives me a thoughtful look.

  I blink rapidly. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He opens the car for me.

  As we get inside, I notice that the radio’s still locked on my favorite country music station. There’s a delightful aroma in the car and it’s coming from two paper bags and a styrofoam coffee cup.

  I squeal in excitement when I see the logo on the bags. “You got Brew Drop pastries?”

  “We both missed out on them last night.”

  I cringe when I think about the way I ditched my boss’s welcoming party yesterday. “Did you go?”

 

‹ Prev