Men of Endurance Limited Edition Collection

by Siera London

  Chapter 4

  A gnawing sensation in Zari’s gut made her want to sprint for the safety of home. What justification could Aron offer to counter his lips on her sister? Zari’s East African accent deepened along with her anger. Most people wouldn't understand her diatribe, but she knew Aron did. He knew her better than any man.

  "Zari, I know how it looked, but you didn't see anything between Tabia and me."

  She held up a hand to stop him.

  "I know the entire town saw my boyfriend with my sister.” It felt as if her skin were covered in ants as she thought of that day. Everything shifted all at once—her present, her past, and her future—disorienting her.

  “And I thought my woman knew me,” Aron said with pointed clarity.

  Ouch. Those ants started to pinch.

  “I knew you before your very luscious lips were locked onto Tabia’s mouth," Zari railed.

  Aron grinned.

  The response surprised Zari. She narrowed her eyes at the slow smile spreading across his face.

  "You find my lips lush?" he teased.

  "I'm being serious. Wipe that grin off your face, you know what I meant."

  His jaw hardened, then his eyes fell to her lips and held.

  Zari averted her gaze, pressing one of her forty-five dollar manicured nails into her forearm.

  He took both her hands in his firm grasp. A bolt of lightning crackled in the distance, illuminating each aisle in eerie light. A dark, ominous sound boomed with the intensity of a percussion grenade, rattling the shelf contents and Zari felt the tremors down to her bones. The overhead lighting tubes running the length of each maze like row blinked off, then on, and finally the room fell into darkness.

  "I know what you mean," he said.

  Alarmed more by the warmth of his breath on her cheek than the storm moving closer to her current location, Zari gave a quick inhale when his open palms settled on her shoulders. His touch had a sensual lasso effect. She was entangled in him, mesmerized by his heat, his scent, the sweet hint of mint on his breath.

  Battling a potential hurricane had to be safer than falling captive to Aron's touch again. Zari pulled free of his grasp, turned on her heel and ran in the direction she had come. She pushed the door open, only to have a gust of wind rip the door and her out into what felt like a wind tunnel. Her feet sank into a foot of standing water, instantly chilling her to the cellular level. Her hair stung with needle like precision as it beat against her face. Faint and distant, she could hear Aron yelling her name. Her back bowed as the wind hurdled her toward the rising water. Fighting to stay upright, she lost her balance when another current of water snatched the shoe from her right foot and sent her careening toward a watery abyss.

  * * *

  Zari’s brain short-circuited at the consequences of her impulsive actions.

  Aron was on her heels when she started to fall. She felt her body make contact with a solid object, her forward motion jerks to a halt. All too soon, she realized Aron had circled her waist with his arm pulling her flush against him.

  "Are you so afraid to be alone with me that you'd run out in a life threatening storm, Zari?"

  Frustration laced his words. Zari's heart was in her throat. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks as images of her prone body submerged in floodwater reeled in her mind. Her mother always said God watched out for fools and little children. At twenty-three she was firmly planted in the foolish category. Aron's forearm was like a band of steel fusing her backside to the front of his well-muscled torso.

  "Not you. I'm afraid for me." She felt the tremor in her voice. It mirrored the one in her heart because it was the truth. She was vulnerable to falling under his spell all over again. The silence grew heavy between them. Had she rendered him speechless? Good.

  She heard his sudden intake of breath, and her heart turned over in her chest. Her words had hurt him. Hurting him was the content of her dreams, but the reality of the impact, brought her further heartache.

  "Why does it still hurt, Z?"

  Aron was the only person that called her, Z. It irritated her parents to no end. Her father's take was her God-given name was only four letters and Aron was too lazy to add the additional three. She loved that her family's perspective hadn't changed Aron's practice.

  "You know why." She spat the words at him.

  "You kicked me out of your life. You refused to speak or even talk to me, and you think I know? I don't know the woman who did those things to us."

  His tone was haunted. She looked up. Their eyes locked. The emptiness reflected in his eyes was the same void she felt in her own life.

  "The storm is getting worse. I can't stay here...with you." She would be willing to stay if he would leave. The slow slide of large masculine hands down her arms gave her goose bumps. Instantly she pulled back only to feel his fingers tighten around her arms. Warm, brown eyes met her midnight orbs and she nearly buckled under the determination aimed at her.

  "Get over it. You are not getting away from me this time."

  The promise in his words shook her emotional foundation. Everything she felt and didn’t want to feel tilted and mixed into a large confusing ball. The heat of his hands, firm and solid at her waist, felt as if a tractor beam had hooked her in its immobilizing pull. Pressed against the hard plain of his chest, for some unexplainable reason she laid her cheek against the solidness of him and inhaled. He nestled the wet hairs on her head and the weight of his arms anchoring her body to his, felt like a ship, long at sea that had finally sailed home.

  "I missed you, Z."

  Zari allowed her body to soften in his gentle hold, relishing the moment when Aron pulled her closer, molding her body to his–two pieces of one whole. How was she going to get her eight dollars now? And how would she ever get her heart back, now that he had plucked it from her open palm?

  "I missed you, too," she said on a whisper. Their mutual confession settled between them with the comfort of a warm fire driving away the chill of the longest winter. The soft caress of firm lips at her neck had her arching to grant him better access. Heat from his mouth seared her skin. The thrill of him tasting her skin, orchestrating her pleasure pulled a groan of sensual surrender from deep within her. She stroked the corded muscle of his back in response.

  "Zari?"

  Though he only said the one word, there was a pleading quality in the tone. The effort was lost on her. She would willingly follow where he led the night.

  "Hmm," she replied, more interested in her pilgrimage across the sinewy contours of his physique.

  "Who's the other man?"

  Zari jerked her hands away from him and the question. She stumbled backward in surprise. Both like an open flame that radiated from him.

  "There is no other man." Her chest heaved, her fingers curled into fists at her side, her voice roared with the ferocity of a lioness robbed of her catch. "I made a mistake," she offered in a soft voice.

  "Him or me?" Aron asked.

  His chest rose and fell with effort. Confused by his question, Zari tilted her face up to study his expression. Searching for a clue in how to answer.

  "Am I your mistake, Zari?"

  Oh sleigh bells in hell, how could she answer without sealing her own fate?

  * * *

  Aron could feel the muscles tense in Zari’s arms. The lights flickered then and the aisle was drenched in darkness. The store generator should power on within a minute, but the power loss had been happening for the past four hours, putting a strain on the dated equipment. A thin beam of moonlight flowed in from the transom glass plates along the display windows illuminating their exact location.

  No vision was required to know Zari was racked with indecision. There was a time when she trusted him without question. How had they come to this? Tension so thick between them that a simple conversation was unnerving for her? It was Aron’s inability to recognize the danger her sister posed to their relationship that had torn them apart. He'd allowed himself to be lure
d into a compromising position. Aron could still remember the smug satisfaction on Tabia's face when Zari had asked him to leave. He had given Zari exactly one hour to come to her senses, before he started dialing her number.

  No one could've predicted the devastation that followed. It felt like a cyclone had barreled through his life and shattered everything tangible in its path. Twelve months to the day, Zari still had not accepted one of his phone calls. He tightened his grip on her wrist. He drew her in close and inhaled, reveling in her honeyed scent. A loud rumble pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced down at her belly with a raised brow.

  "I need to feed you."

  She fidgeted within his hold. He could feel her blushing.

  "My dinner date cancelled," she offered in a low voice.

  The reminder that she had plans for dinner plus extras with another man had him grinding his teeth.

  "Lucky for us, I have access to the finest in gourmet selections." Aron grinned at the woman in his arms.

  Zari’s laughter filled the room and warmth infused his body tightening every muscle from his throat downward. The sound of her laughter was equal to a drink of water after crossing the desert sands.

  "Oh really, and where are you hiding your fanciful feast?" she teased him.

  "A six pack of Ensure is on aisle seven and the protein bars are two rows over on the middle shelf."

  "What about the food in the coolers, big spender?"

  "I have two words for you. Power outage." he offered. No sooner had the words left his mouth, the lights flickered on.

  * * *

  Aron had his woman at his side on Christmas Eve.

  "Actually, I would rather close my eyes and sleep before I ate dry protein bars and washed them down with Ensure," Zari teased.

  After a twelve-month drought, Aron’s heart pounded in his chest, grateful for every smile, laugh, and teasing comment she gave him.

  "You never could tell when I joked with you.” He tugged her hand. “I have leftovers from Ava in the back."

  "OMG, I miss your sister's cooking."

  He stared at Zari. She beamed up at him and his breath hitched in his lungs that he’d contributed to the joy she felt. Memories of the good times they shared assailed him, making all the more acute the months they’d spent apart.

  "Come back to me Zari and I'll pay my sister to cook for you everyday for the rest of our lives." He watched as color made a slow creep into her cheeks. He’d embarrassed her with his directness. Aron couldn’t regret what he’d said. He wanted Zari more than he’d want any woman.

  She cleared her throat while averting her eyes. "What did she pack in your lunch?"

  Aron allowed her to change the subject. He had her for the night.

  "I have pan seared Copper River salmon, roasted asparagus, yellow squash, and carrot potatoes."

  "Yum...that sounds like heaven for my taste buds."

  Aron watched as Zari rolled her lower lip in her mouth, sucking the plump tissue between her teeth before releasing. His mouth watered this time for a totally masculine reason.

  "What are you going to eat, Aron?"

  "You remember Walters family dinners are in competition with an old country buffet. There's plenty for both of us." He closed the distance between them. He brushed the flesh of her cheek with his knuckles. When a sigh escaped her mouth, Aron had to bite back a groan. "I'll never let you go without."

  Aron heard Zari's breath catch. He wouldn't survive the night if she kept reminding him of what their life could be together.

  Aron fixed Zari with a grim stare, before he stepped away to study her with a cautious eye. Her discomfort was obvious.

  "Come on," he said, "let's get you comfortable, and then we can eat.” Physically and emotionally, Aron thought.

  "Unless you have a spare set of women’s clothing, shoes, and a cot, comfort is unattainable for the night."

  He swept her with a piercing gaze. "Oh ye of little faith. I have just what the doctor ordered."

  "You're a pharmacist. Your job is to fill the orders." He shrugged at her statement, but kept up his pace to the rear of the store.

  "Either way, the outcome is the same."

  She raised an arched brow in question.

  "I can deliver, Zari."

  Chapter 5

  Zari hunted through the staff lounge cabinets pulling out two snowflake print paper plates with matching Styrofoam cups. The kitchen had two stainless steel sinks with speckled gray laminated countertops and white cabinets overhead. A microwave that should've been in an antique shop between an Atari and a Texas Instrument computer occupied the space to the left of the sink. There were no windows in the elongated space, but she could hear the storm raging outside. There were several doors at the end of the hallway. She presumed a restroom, maybe a storage area, and a utility closet.

  "Woman, I don't smell any food cooking. Don't take the electricity for granted," Aron chuckled from somewhere on the shopping floor.

  Zari’s lip turned up into a smile at his teasing. She tried not to laugh, but failed miserably. "Stop micromanaging. I'm the one that's on a cheap noodle diet and not complaining."

  "I'm trying to take care of you."

  Zari’s breath caught. A spike of dopamine rushed through her system, and just like an addict, the temptation of Aron's brand of drug pulled her in. She should feel anxious about her impending financial collapse and the clock ticking down to midnight, but sharing a meal with Aron was as natural as breathing. It was a mistake feeling this comfortable in his presence. She'd been wise to minimize contact with him these past months. By all accounts, being stuck in a store that smelled like the inside of a pill bottle on Christmas Eve was the opposite of merry. But her too stupid for her own good heart lit up more than Rudolph's nose every time Aron looked at her.

  When Aron returned with a beach towel bundle in one hand and a scented candle in the other, she had the round plastic table at the center of the floor arranged for two. The mild scent of salmon hung in the air, but his woodsy blend was what had her mouth watering. Swallowing her inappropriate thoughts, Zari broke the silence.

  "Your dinner is ready," Zari said, looking up.

  "Everything looks delicious," he said, his eyes never straying from hers.

  Staring into Aron’s eyes was a mistake. Had the storm ripped open the door, because Zari had the sensation of being swept off her feet?

  "I brought a candle for the table."

  Aron placed a red wax-filled mason between the salt and pepper shakers.

  "Why...the lights are on for–." As if on cue, darkness swallowed the small space. Instinctively she reached for him.

  "Because I don't ever want to lose sight of you," he said, as his strong fingers curled around her wrist pulling her in close to his warmth.

  * * *

  Aron gave himself a mental kick for the not losing you comment. Zari had clammed up tighter than a childproof pill bottle. While she excused herself, Aron took the opportunity to position the lone key lime green poolside lounge chair, left over from the summer clearance, in the rear aisle away from the glass storefront. Lowering the chair back into the flat position, he covered the length with three beach towels, and then draped a Christmas throw over the armrest. Zari would be in his arms tonight. Christmas had arrived early by his estimation.

  Navigating the store with ease, Aron reached his destination, pulled several boxes off the shelf, before moving on to the rounder holding the AA batteries. With efficiency he opened each box and installed two copper and black batteries in each compartment before sliding the power switch to the on position. He heard the faucet turn off while he placed each light along a path leading to their makeshift bed for the evening.

  Zari emerged from the break room in a sunshine yellow swimsuit pullover shirt that stopped mid-thigh and a pair of white ankle socks with a rabbit tail pompom. Aron watched as her silhouetted figure moved past each multi-colored light. He groaned aloud.

  "You're killing me, Z." She
looked gorgeous without Tabia’s mark with the glam appearance. Every fiber of Aron’s being shouted for him to move in her direction. He wanted to pull her into his arms, bury his hands in her hair, and claim her as his own.

  "Not my intention," she responded with a nervous tug to her shirt hem.

  He forced himself to remain at a distance.

  "I know," he said matter of fact. When she did turn her power of seduction on him, he knew he'd melt faster than cotton candy.

  "You've eaten. You're in dry clothes and our bed is ready. Is there anything else you need from me?" He heard her sharp intake of breath. Taking in a deep breath of his own, he rocked back on his heels, hoping that it would give him the time he needed to get his emotions in check. He waited for Zari to speak. She pivoted her body from left to right in a slow arc.

  "You did this for me."

  A statement. Aron watched as her eyes stretched wide with astonishment at the room's transformation.

  Six miniature fiber optic Christmas trees lit a path from the break room to a lounge chair doubling as a bed. There was a pre-assembled twelve-inch table next to the lounger where an even smaller lighted tree rotated on its axis to the tune of Silent Night.

  "I would do anything for you, and more." He extended his hand toward her, hoping she would not only place her hand in his, but her trust. Aron had fallen in love with Zari the moment she agreed to the first date with him.

  "It's time for bed," he extended his hand.

  "I won't share a bed with you, Aron."

  He narrowed his eyes in suspicion at her.

  "Says the woman that travels with a roll of condoms tucked in her dress.” He heard her sharp intake of breath. He winced when he saw the hurt reflected in her eyes.