Love past 40 (BWWM Romance Book 1)

by BWWM Club

  He dropped the cup of water and gripped the tray. He shook a little. “I can’t. This freaked me out, okay? Two years ago I buried dad, and good fucking riddance if you ask me.”

  “Joshua Andrew Hart!”

  “What? It’s true. Don’t act like that man did us any favors.”

  “He built this life for us. This comfort.”

  “He stole from people! I made this company better. Me.” He pointed to his chest. “I’ve been cleaning up dad’s messes—and believe me he left plenty for me to clean up. But this? Mom, seeing you like this hurt way more than I ever thought. I’m not ready to bury you next to dad, you deserve better than that.”

  She let out an exhausted sigh. “Come here, Joshy.” She spread her right arm as wide as she could to signal him to sit next to her. Her skin sagged and the veins protruded, dark spots littered the translucent flesh. He sat on the edge of the bed and she wrapped her cold hands around his. “Your father had his faults.”

  He scoffed.

  “A lot of them. He didn’t do right by a lot of people, you’re right. Your father wasn’t always so crooked, you know. He used to be a romantic and care about people. Do me a favor, Joshy.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t let business turn you into him.”

  “Never.”

  She patted his hand. “Alright, enough of this nonsense. What’s new with you? When are you going to give me grand-babies?”

  He tossed his head back and laughed, turning his head toward his mom. She smiled and the crow’s feet around her eyes wrinkled. “Aw, mom. You know that isn’t going to happen. I’m too old for that.”

  She sighed. “It’s never too late to adopt or something.”

  It reminded him of Ginger and her boys. They'd never had a father. No, they did, but maybe he could adopt them if things went well for him and Ginger. Well, they were kind of old for that. That was a stupid thought. He shook the fantasy away. He had to get Ginger to agree to a date, first.

  “I know that look.”

  His mom’s voice brought him back to the present. “What? What look?

  “The lost look. The one that says you're in love.” She wiggled her sparse, white eyebrows.

  He shook his head. “Now, don’t go getting your hopes up. I could though. Fall in love with this woman, if she would allow it.”

  “If she’ll allow it? Who wouldn’t love my Joshy?”

  “She's the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, besides you of course.”

  His mother slapped his shoulder. “Nonsense.”

  They shared a laugh before she nudged him. “Well, what’s she like? Tell me about the woman that stole my son’s heart.”

  He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It isn’t easy mom.”

  “Nothing good ever is.”

  “She's a widow. Her husband died working at a site for Hartline Industries twenty years ago.”

  “Oh, dear.” His mother covered her lips with her shaking hand. “I suppose that does seem to give you some difficulty.”

  “I met her sons, they seem fine with me, well, except the youngest. He wasn’t rude, but surprised. She hasn’t dated anyone besides their father.”

  “Oh, she has kids?” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Only you would concentrate on that.”

  “I need grand-babies.” She huffed and tried to cross her arms, only to realize she couldn’t lift her left hand. “Gosh, darn it.”

  He reached for her hand. “You don’t need grand-babies. You want them. You don’t need them.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You get to my age and you’ll see. Now, tell me, what’s her name.”

  “Ginger Lanton. She's beautiful. Hazel eyes, dark skin, long dark hair, sassy. She has fire, mom. You’d like her.

  She's scared too. She lives by her emotions. Competing with a man that isn’t even here, it’s hard.”

  “You just have to be patient, Joshy. She’ll come around. I can’t wait to meet her. But make sure I’m home first, okay? I don’t want people seeing me like this.”

  “With a green face mask on?”

  She slapped him in the shoulder again. “I have to do what I can to stay young, you know.”

  “You’re beautiful just how you are, mom.” He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek, even with the face mask.

  He helped her wipe off the green stuff that was on her face, something he never really understood. But it made the spa a lot of money and it felt good on the skin apparently, so why not. She deserved to feel good. “Once I spring you out of here. I’m taking you to the spa. All day.”

  “Oh, you’re so good to me. I love you.” She patted his hand and hers was cold, reminding him of her old age.

  A knock at the door made them turn their heads to see the doctor standing in the doorway. “Perfect. I’m so glad to see you here, Mr. Hart. Gloria, how are we doing since we woke up?”

  “Good. A little tired and I still can’t move my left arm, but other than that I feel like a young girl ready to paint the town red.”

  He laughed as he got his pen out of his front pocket. “Well, you look it too. I think in a few days you'll be ready to get out of here, as long as you keep that attitude.”

  “Wait. That’s it? A few days after being unconscious for five days and a heart attack and you’re ready to send her home?” Josh spat with annoyance.

  “I understand how scary it is, Mr. Hart. She will need physical therapy, but I do recommend in−home care.”

  Josh would do anything for his mother, but if she was going to be anywhere, it wouldn’t be back at the big mansion by herself. He would sell his apartment, buy a place big enough where he could hire a live−in nurse so he could always keep an eye on her.

  “But in general, she's okay? In−home care won't be a problem. She'll be staying with me.”

  “Joshua!”

  “Mom, we can talk later about it, okay?” He rubbed his thumb over her frail hand. He hated that this was what time had come to. He remembered her being energetic and healthy, young, and able to do anything. Now, he was the one taking care of her, which he was fine with, but it was bittersweet. The tables had turned and he was happy to take care of his mom, it just hurt that she wasn’t able to take care of herself because time had finally caught up to her.

  “I know it sounds scary for her to leave so quickly, but she's doing great, and everything tells me she'll be good to go. I’d still like to see her every few weeks for check−ins, but other than that, I don’t see any issues.”

  “Thanks, doctor.”

  “Sure, if you need anything else let me know.” He turned on his heel and walked away, his coat floating behind him as he strode out the door.

  “If I was young again and single, I’d give that doctor a piece of my mind. If you know what I mean.”

  “Mom! Come on.” He pretended to be disturbed.

  “What? Just because I’m your mother doesn’t mean I don’t have needs.”

  He lifted his hand. “I can’t talk to you about this right now.”

  “I’m not some old hag, you know.”

  “I know that, mom. It’s just weird to hear you talking about it.”

  “Like it wasn’t weird for me when you thought I didn’t know you brought Cindy Fredricks home from prom and snuck her out at five in the morning?” she said nonchalantly as she filed her nails.

  He blushed, twisting his hands in his lap. It had been a while since he felt seventeen, but his mom always managed to make him feel that age again. “You knew about that?” He wrapped his hand around his neck, feeling a bit awkward. If he remembered correctly, Cindy had been really loud. Oh, man. He felt like he was getting caught and was about to get grounded.

  “Oh, a mother always knows.”

  “This is embarrassing.” He undid the button at the top of his neck when his flush became a little too hot.

  “I know things you have no
idea about, Joshy.”

  “That’s so disturbing.”

  She sighed, leaning her head back against the pillow. He took a good look at her. While her skin had aged, her eyes were still young, dark green, and shining like emeralds. “I love you, you know,” she said, exhausted.

  “I love you too, mom.”

  “You have to promise me that you’ll always go for what you want, okay? Don’t give up on Ginger just because her heart is a little broken and out of shape. Maybe she just needs help putting it back together.”

  “You’re talking like you’re going to die.”

  “I will one day.”

  “Mom, stop. We have right now. That’s what matters.” He felt the tears spring to his eyes. He wasn’t the type of man that typically cried, but this was a sensitive subject.

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Promise me.”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the cold fingers. “I promise.”

  “Good boy. Now, we need to talk about why you think I’m going to stay with you and not at home with a nurse?”

  “Like I’m going to let some stranger take care of my mother. They won’t take care of you. There are more horror stories than good ones. No way in hell.”

  “Language.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, mom.”

  “Well, I don’t want to interrupt your life.”

  “It isn’t interrupting my life when I want you there. You took care of me my entire life. Let me take care of you.”

  “You’re a good boy.” She patted his hand againand he could see the tears pooling in her eyes.

  “You raised me to be. Your water, I forgot. Let me grab it.” He poured the ice-cold liquid into the cup and brought it over, making sure to place a straw in it for her. He watched as she drank it, wishing her hair wasn’t greying. He hated that age was catching up with her. He hated that she was old. Everything was a task for her, no matter how much she denied it.

  She sipped it greedily until it was empty. “Can I have more?”

  He poured a little more and her hand wrapped around the cup. “So, when's your date?”

  “Eight tonight.”

  “Tonight! Joshua Hart, you better go get that beard trimmed and those sides shaved. You look a mess. And a Hart—”

  “Never looks a mess. I know.” He repeated what she'd always told him growing up.

  “You should wear that forest green suit jacket with dark jeans. Green always looks so good on you. It brings out your eyes.”

  “You’re just trying to get grand-babies.”

  “Can’t blame an old hag for trying.”

  “Language, mom.” He teased her.

  Her chuckle reminded him of what Santa’s wife would laugh like. It was charming, but it sent a pang through him because he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hear it.

  Chapter 8

  Ginger

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Take a deep breath,” she told herself as she stared at her reflection while she put on earrings. “What am I doing? I don’t do this. I’m not going. I’m not. This is silly. I’m too old to date.” She started to take the earrings off when someone cleared their throat behind her.

  She jumped, placing her hand on her chest when she saw it was Heath. “Goodness, Heath. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “Sorry, Mama. Just wondering how you’re doing.”

  She wanted to be honest with her youngest son since he seemed to be the one that was worried. “I’m nervous. I don’t think I’m going. I’m too old for this. Who dates anymore? Don’t you young people do Tinder or something?”

  “Ugh, mom. Don’t ever say that again. You don’t want Tinder. All the gross people are on there. They just want sex.”

  That made her tumble as she put on her heel. “Oh, let’s not talk about that then.” She saw that she was putting on her shoe and took it off. She wasn’t doing this.

  “Mama?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re freaking out.”

  The bed dipped as she sat on it. “What am I thinking? I can’t go out with him.”

  Heath sat next to her and took her hand. “You deserve to be happy, Mama. You look beautiful. Jamal and I are happy that you’re moving on. It’s good for you. It’s good for all of us. You keep waiting for dad to come back and it isn’t going to happen.”

  “Heath…I know you aren’t comfortable with it.”

  “I was surprised at first when I saw him here the other night, I’m not used to seeing you with people. A part of me was shocked and a little scared. I feel like everything is about to change and in a good way, but still…”

  “I understand. It’s a big change for me too.”

  “Have fun tonight, okay? You deserve it. Jamal and I are going out with some friends tonight and are staying over there. So, uh, yeah. Have fun, be safe. Call us if you need us.” He leaned over and pecked her cheek.

  “Thanks, baby.” He left and shut the door, leaving her alone, staring at herself in the full−body mirror that sat in the corner. She wore a bright purple dress. The sleeves were off the shoulder and it hugged her body in all the right places. She tossed the shoes back in the closet and went with flats. She would rather be comfortable. She slipped on a pair of silver sequin flats, brushed her lips with a bit more gloss, and ran her hands down her dress. She could do this. It wasn’t marriage, just a date. No expectations. No strings. It was just two friends going out.

  A knock at the front door sounded and she grabbed her clutch, making her way toward it. Her vision tunneled when the door came closer and closer. Her heart sped up and she paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Her hand landed on the doorknob and she swore she could feel his hand grasping the metal knob on the other side, making heat radiate through it. She let out a final, deep exhale and opened the door. Her breath caught in her throat. He looked sinful. He was handsome in a way that shouldn’t be allowed. He the sides of his head were freshly shaven, his hair was styled back in a fashionable way, and he wore a green jacket that no one else could pull off, and it brought out his eyes.

  “I love your jacket. You look handsome.” She finally made her voice work.

  His smile melted her bones. “I have to say, you look stunning. We both represent the heart of New Orleans tonight.”

  She glanced down at her dress and back at his suit and noticed the colors purple and green. “Mardi Gras.”

  “I have to say. We look great.” He held out his arm and she was shocked by the move. It was so gentlemanly.

  “Oh.” She hooked her arm through his and walked down the hallway, pressing the button for the elevator.

  “I thought we could start off with some food and then hit the streets for some fun?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’m starving.” They walked arm-in-arm down the cobblestone street. The night was perfect. The stars shone in the sky and people’s laughter echoed throughout the street as they enjoyed food, crafts, and drinks. Musicians stood on the side of the street, playing soulful music that set the tone of the beautiful city.

  “Can we stop for a minute?” she asked, wanting to watch the man on the saxophone.

  “Anything you want.”

  She had a feeling he meant it. He wrapped his arms around her and they started to sway to the slow tempo of the sax. The horn blared through the night and the low baritone was sad and lonely, echoing her own past.

  “Let’s dance.” He twirled her around and she yelped.

  “I don’t know how to dance.”

  “Just follow my lead.” Josh pulled her close, aligning their lower bodies. His hand wrapped around her waist while he held the other hand.

  “Who would have thought you were good on your feet?” she teased.

  “I know a lot of things, Ms. Lanton.” He winked, and she shouldn’t have taken it so sexually, but she did.

  She blushed and glanced
around, noticing other people watching them. “People are watching us,” she whispered.

  His lips grazed her ear. “They're watching you.” He twirled her, spinning her in a circle before pulling her back in against his chest.

  “I think the ladies that are watching are having trouble keeping their tongues in their mouths.”

  “And your tongue? That’s the only one I care about.”

  “It slips out from time to time,” she admitted, enjoying the flirtation. It had been so long since she'd flirted, and it made butterflies float in her stomach. It made her feel a little dangerous, but in a good way, like she was holding all the cards.

  “Is that, so? You should let me see it sometime.”

  “I’ll let you know.” He spun her out one last time, bringing her into his arms. This time he held her differently.

  Both of his arms encompassed her, and her palms landed on his chest. Her eyes met his and he leaned down. She stood on her tips-toes, meeting him hallway to feel his lips against hers, but the music stopped and went straight into a fast paced jazz. It made them stop and Josh cleared his throat. She tried to take a step back, but he held her close to him.

  She stared at him with confusion and he cupped the side of her face. “I’m not leaving until I get that kiss.”

  “Kiss her!” a drunken bystander yelled.

  “Kiss him!” another shouted.

  Ginger giggled and stared at her feet. She took a step forward and met his eyes. “You are so beautiful. It drives me nuts.” He grabbed her face and slammed his mouth against hers.

  She met his ferocity, giving in to temptation and lust. It felt so good. It wasn’t enough. She clutched his jacket tight, trying to pull him closer to her body. For the first time in twenty years, her body came alive. Her nipples beaded and her clit ached. She rubbed her hand over his chest, loving the hard muscle beneath her palms. “Let’s go back to my place,” she said in between kisses.

  “We just got out here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He pulled back, lacing her hands with his. “I do. I want you to want this when you aren’t crazy out of your mind with lust. I don’t want you to regret this, okay? Let’s get a drink and dance.”