Tempted at Midnight

by Cheris Hodges

  Why hasn’t he responded to me yet? Sylvie stomped inside and kicked her shoes and jeans off. This was about to relax in a bubble bath and get ready for tomorrow. Where she would run right into Erik.

  I knew this was a bad idea. Now I’m going to have to act professional and pretend that I don’t care that he didn’t text me back.

  Normally when she decided to take a long bath she would take her phone into the bathroom with her. But tonight she was going to leave it all behind.

  * * *

  Erik paced back and forth on his mother’s front porch, trying to wrap his mind around everything that had happened over the last few hours. He really threw a punch at his father. His mother had cancer, and he didn’t know how to deal with all of this.

  Logan walked over to Erik and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need to calm down.”

  He glanced over at his brother. “How can you be so calm?”

  Logan shrugged. “Because seeing you punch Dad made my day.”

  Scowling at him, Erik continued pacing. “We have to get Ma to take her health care seriously. I don’t like the fact that she’s basically given up.”

  “I don’t like that either. But what can we do? Dad’s probably in her ear with some bullshit about us right now. Going through this alone probably feels like the best choice.”

  “Why do we find keeping secrets a viable option in this family?”

  “You’re really asking me?” Logan grunted.

  “My existence as an artist has been an entire fabrication.” He ran his hand across his smooth face. “We have to do something to help Ma. Even if that means forcing her out of the house and checking her into a treatment center against her will.”

  “Don’t think it works like that, but you’re right. We have to do something.”

  Logan glanced down at his watch. “Shit, I was supposed to meet Olivia an hour ago.”

  Erik squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Sylvie was supposed to come over tonight. Damn it, where is my phone?”

  “Haven’t seen it,” Logan said with a shrug.

  Erik patted his pockets and his phone wasn’t there. “Hand me your phone.” He held his hand out for Logan’s phone.

  “Now, wait a minute, how are you demanding my phone to call a woman you’re just kicking it with? You’re not acting like a dude who’s not falling head over heels for a woman.”

  “Stop being a dick and hand me the phone.”

  Logan laughed and handed Erik his smartphone. “Make it quick, because I need to call my fiancée.”

  Erik was surprised that he had memorized Sylvie’s phone number, and when he saw the number was already stored in Logan’s phone, he almost said something rude. But Logan was about to marry her best friend.

  And why was he acting as if he had a right to be angry about another man calling his woman? Well, technically, she wasn’t his. What am I thinking? he thought as the phone rang in his ear.

  * * *

  Sylvie sank into a tub of jasmine bubbles and lavender oil. Just as she was about to dip her head under water, she heard the ringtone she’d set for Olivia vibrate through the silence.

  “Ugh! She would call now.” Pulling herself out of the tub, she drip-dropped down the hall to grab the phone. Seeing that it was LJ’s number, she got nervous. Had something happened to Olivia? Why was he calling?

  “Hello? LJ? What’s going on?”

  “It’s not Logan, this is Erik.”

  Sylvie reminded herself to breathe. Then she thought that something even worse probably happened. “Why are you calling me from your brother’s phone?”

  “Because I can’t find mine. I know I should’ve reached out to you sooner, but dinner with my mother took a turn for the worse.”

  “So, that’s why you chose to . . . Wait, is everything all right?”

  “Where are you right now?”

  “I’m at home.” She looked down at the water on her floor. “And I . . .”

  “Sylvie, I need to see you. Not to talk about colors or patterns or chairs. I just need to see you.”

  All of the random evil thoughts she’d had about him ignoring her floated away as she gave him her address. “Just give me a few minutes to put on some clothes. I’ll text you my address.”

  “Sure, and thanks.”

  After ending the call, she rushed upstairs, let the water out of the tub, then dried the floor. Next, she dried off and pulled on a cotton dress. She tried to calm her heartbeat as she waited for him to arrive. Here she was acting all mad and the man had a family emergency. That’s what I get for jumping to conclusions. Sylvie headed for the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do in this situation. It wasn’t as if she knew his family situation—well, only what she’d seen on TV. But there had to be more to why a man would turn his back on his sons for no reason like that. And then the situation with Logan not even claiming the Jordan name. But there was no way she could ask him these questions, it wouldn’t be polite. She was just going to lend him a shoulder and an ear. And a damned good cup of coffee.

  By the time the doorbell rang, Sylvie had two mugs of coffee and a plate of cookies sitting on the round coffee table in the den, John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme playing on low, and a cinnamon candle burning in the corner of the room. She started to blow the candle out because it felt as if she was setting the wrong kind of scene. But she simply wanted to make him feel comfortable. That meant her questions didn’t matter. She walked to the front door and opened it.

  “Hi,” she said.

  Erik pulled Sylvie into his arms and hugged her tightly. She stroked the back of his neck as she inhaled his masculine scent. “Are you okay?” Her lips brushed against his ear.

  “I’ve been better.” He broke their embrace and stroked her cheek.

  “Well, I have coffee and cookies.”

  “Did you bake them? It smells amazing in here.” He glanced at her and smiled. “Unless that’s just you.”

  Sylvie took his hand and led him to the den. “You smell my favorite candle.” She nodded toward the corner. “Cinnamon relaxes me and . . .”

  Erik brushed his finger across her lips. “You’re a special lady, Sylvie Gates. And the Coltrane?”

  “Who doesn’t like Coltrane? If you say you don’t, I’m going really question this thing we have going here and believe that you picked all of that stuff that you have in your house.”

  He took a seat on her soft sectional sofa, then reached out and stroked her bare leg. “Never said I didn’t like Coltrane. But I’ve always been more of a Miles Davis man myself.”

  “Why? ’Cause you think you’re cool?”

  “And slick. For about ten minutes in high school, I tried to play the trumpet.” His hand slowly inched up her thigh. “But there were other things I wanted to do with my lips and fingers.”

  Sylvie inhaled as his hand reached the top of her thigh. “That’s why,” he continued, “I think Miles is the man.”

  “May-maybe I should play some of Birth of the Cool.” She took a step back from his touch because he was making her weak.

  He patted the cushion beside him. “This is fine. More than fine.”

  Sylvie sat down and reached for the platter of cookies. “You want to talk about what happened tonight?”

  He took one of the chocolate chip cookies and broke it in half. “Well. My mother has cancer. She acts like she plans to give up and not fight. She hasn’t even told her husband.”

  Sylvie furrowed her brows at the way Erik said her husband. That was his dad, right? She set the cookies on the table and stroked the back of his hand. “What are you going to do?”

  “What can I do? Logan said we should kidnap her and force her to get treatment. And all of the stress of this bullshit with the company can’t be good for her.”

  “Then you should make peace with your father so your whole family can rally around your mother.”

  Erik snorted, then bit into the cookie. “Doubt that w
ill happen since I punched my father in the face today.”

  Sylvie’s mouth dropped open. She wanted to say something, but how do you respond to that? He polished off his cookie then reached for one of the coffee mugs. “We are not a Norman Rockwell–painting family.”

  “Maybe it’s time for you guys to give it a try. Erik, I don’t know what your relationship is like with your mother, but I couldn’t imagine my life without mine.”

  Erik sighed. “There was a time when I felt the same way about my mom, maybe I still do. I’m just confused about the woman she’s become.”

  Sylvie tucked her legs underneath her and faced him. “What do you mean?”

  “How she went along with my father when she spent her life protecting us—especially Logan—from his bullshit. It’s as if he turned into Jim Jones or some shit. But maybe she was trying to keep sanity in the house because she’s sick.”

  Sylvie nodded. At least he has time, she thought. When her father died, it was without warning. No time to prepare for a life without him.

  “Hey, hey,” Erik said, then wiped a tear from her cheek. “What are those tears all about?”

  She hadn’t realized that she’d been crying until he touched her.

  “I didn’t want to unload on you and make you cry.”

  She shook her head, then dabbed at her eyes with her fingers. “I was just thinking about my dad. When he passed away, there was no time to prepare. It just happened. One day he was bigger than life and the next day he was gone.”

  “And here I come with—”

  She brought her finger to his lips. “We deal with things differently.” Sylvie shrugged her shoulders. “Clearly, I’m a crier.”

  “But a beautiful one.” He leaned in and kissed her damp cheek.

  “You need to work things out with your mom, while you still have time. I get sad when I think about losing my father. But I don’t regret anything. The last thing I said to him was I love you.”

  “You’re right, I don’t want to have any regrets if something were to happen.”

  “And you got to make her fight.”

  Erik smiled. Something about the way Sylvie poured her emotions into life made him understand a lot more about her. And damn it, it made her sexy as hell. “You know what, I don’t want to talk about that anymore.” He took a sip of the lukewarm coffee.

  “I can reheat that if you’d like.”

  “Nope, this is fine. As a matter of fact, this might be added to my coffee collection. What is this again, reindeer dance?”

  “Funny. It’s Dancing Goats. I can’t believe you’ve been in Atlanta all your life and aren’t hip to these delicious beans here.”

  “Haven’t been in Atlanta all of my life. I spent part of my childhood in Chicago.” Erik’s voice rose an octave.

  “Guess you had some good times in the Chi?”

  “Heck yeah, the block parties, the food, and when we’d put on the makeup shows, my dad’s take on the Ebony Fashion Fair shows, it was amazing. And Mom would come out as the show-stopper. She’d have on the new Yvonne color and people would go wild.

  “I remember my mama talking about those shows. She’s still pissed about the Yvonne lipstick.”

  “Tell your mom I have something coming that is going to blow her mind.”

  Sylvie raised her eyebrows. “Tell me.”

  “Nope.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and poked her lips out. “You’re so wrong.”

  “You think so?” He inched closer to her and pressed his lips to hers. He nibbled on her bottom lip, then their tongues touched and she moaned as he pulled her closer to his hard body. She ran her hand across his chest and wrapped her leg around his waist. Pulling back from him, Sylvie stroked the side of his face. “There you go with those dangerous lips again.”

  “Like you’re not over there with two soft lethal weapons of your own. Never had a woman kiss me until I was weak before. So, checkmate.”

  “Whatever. The coffee is cold now.”

  “I don’t want any more, anyway. I need you.” He ran his finger down her cheek. “When I wake up in the morning, I need you in my arms.”

  She nodded. “Okay.” Sylvie attempted to move, but Erik shook his head.

  “Let’s just be here right now. Listen to that sax.”

  Chapter 16

  Hours passed and Erik still had Sylvie in his arms with the music still playing. They’d moved from Coltrane to Miles and now Charles Mingus.

  “You have a great collection of music.” They swayed back and forth on the sofa. They’d switched their position and she was leaning back on his chest. Erik’s arms rested around her waist.

  “Something else I learned from my dad.”

  “He sounds like a good man.” Erik kissed her on the cheek.

  Sylvie nodded. “Want a drink?”

  “Sure. But no more coffee.”

  “What are you thinking? Wine, whiskey or . . .”

  “Surprise me.”

  As Sylvie rose to her feet, he watched her walk into the kitchen. He watched her hips sway as she walked. It seemed redundant to keep thinking how sexy she was, but how could he not?

  “Damn. I got to make sure that I don’t mess this thing up.” He shook his head, surprised by his thought. What thing? Was he really falling for this woman like Logan kept saying? Nah, this is me thinking too hard about this thing. Sylvie doesn’t want to be mixed up in this mess and I’m not trying to bring her into this.

  Moments later, Sylvie returned to the den with two glasses of merlot. “Is this okay?” She set the glasses in front of him.

  “Perfect.”

  “Great. So, are you feeling all right?”

  Erik nodded. “Thank you for letting me talk your ear off tonight.”

  “One day I’m going to need you to return the favor.”

  “Anytime you need me, I’m right here for you.”

  She patted his thigh and his dick sprang to life.

  Erik shifted in his seat and expelled a sigh. Damn, he wanted this woman, but he couldn’t have sex with her every time they were together. He brushed his finger across her bottom lip. “I plan to hold you to this. And you know what, I don’t mind being held at all.”

  “Is that so?” She gazed at him over the rim of her wineglass.

  Erik took the glass from her hand, then smiled. “Yes, so why don’t you wrap those arms around me.”

  Sylvie followed his directive and snuggled against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. They sipped the wine and talked about everything but his family and color palettes. He kissed her forehead and felt her shiver against him. This woman made him think about long walks in the park, overnight beach trips, and roses. He’d never sent a woman roses. But he wanted to send Sylvie dozens of roses, plant the flowers in her yard so that every time she went outside she’d think of him.

  “More wine?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  “No, I think I’ve had enough. It was very good.”

  “My collection doesn’t compare to yours, but I like a nice bottle of something vintage around the house every now and then. Tonight seemed like a good time to share.”

  “My wine cellar is always open to you.”

  “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” she quipped.

  “I never say things to you that I don’t mean.” Erik stroked her cheek.

  “Are you tired?” she asked. “Seems like this has been a really long day for you.”

  “It has. Think it might be time for me to go.”

  “You don’t have to, unless you just want to sleep in your bed.”

  “That I do want. But I don’t plan to sleep alone. Why don’t you pack a bag and come with me? After all, we do still have a meeting.”

  “I think you’re holding this meeting over my head so that you can keep me coming back for more.”

  “More what?”

  She ran her finger across his bottom lip. “Those, for starters. Then that Kona coffee.�
�

  “I feel like the coffee is the main reason you came over. But it’s fine, I like to see you coming.” Sylvie raised her right eyebrow. Erik was certain she’d picked up on the double meaning behind his words. “If you’re just as tired as I am, we can just sleep. But I do want to wake up with you in my arms.”

  “Then you’re going to have to stay right here, because I’ve already gotten my lavender-scented candles burning upstairs.”

  Erik furrowed his brows.

  Sylvie dropped her head, hiding a smile. “So, before you explained what happened after dinner with your mom, I was kind of pissed with you. I thought I’d been stood up.”

  “And you burn candles when you’re angry?”

  “It’s for the oil, and don’t you think that’s better than burning down someone’s poorly decorated house?”

  “You don’t have that in you, do you?” he quipped.

  “Act right and you will never have to find out.”

  Erik rose to his feet and downed the rest of his wine. “I knew there was something scary about you.”

  “Trust me, on that tip, I’m all talk and no action.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Besides, if you stay here, you get to see what an adult’s bedroom is supposed to look like.”

  “That was harsh. You know what, let me get the full tour.”

  She picked up their empty wineglasses. “We’ll start with the kitchen.” They walked into her ultramodern kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a smart refrigerator, and a marble island. The vaulted ceiling made the room seem larger than it was. Erik was impressed with the space in the kitchen and her industrial-looking coffeemaker.

  “More Dancing Goat over there?”

  “A few surprises. This is probably the least used spot in my house. I’m not a big cook.”

  Erik nodded. “I can see that.”

  She nudged him in the side as she placed the glasses in the sink. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”