Man of Fate

by Rochelle Alers

  “The store owner gave it to the police, who in turn handed it over to the D.A.’s office.”

  “Somebody messed up—big-time. What are you going to do, Chat?”

  Crossing his arms over the front of his stark-white shirt, Kyle narrowed his gaze. “I’m not certain. If we go to trial there’s no doubt the case will be dismissed for lack of evidence. If I call Clarkson at the D.A.’s and tell him I know the tape has been doctored, then it would be up to him to uncover the culprit—providing someone at his office isn’t culpable. Then, we need to find out if someone had it in for Rashaun and wanted to set him up. I have someone looking for a guy known as Boots, but Mr. Boots seems to have disappeared.”

  “What’s up with this Boots person?”

  “He’s known to wear a ring with a lion’s head.”

  “What if you can locate Boots?” Jordan asked.

  Kyle lowered his arms. “I think it’s time I have another talk with Rashaun and let him know it was Boots who robbed that bodega and see how he reacts.”

  Excitement fired the green in Jordan’s eyes. “I would like to be present when you talk to him.”

  “I don’t see that as a problem.” Slipping the tape and report into the mailer and locking it in a drawer of his desk, Kyle pocketed the key. “I have to leave to pick up someone from the airport. That means you’re in charge.”

  A wave of apprehension gnawed at Jordan. His ego had gotten the better of him when he’d asked Kyle to make him partner when in reality he didn’t know enough about the firm’s client population to assume the responsibility of handling everything that came across his desk. He knew the law but nothing about the clandestine web of street informants. He was still in the same spot when Kyle slipped into his suit jacket and walked out of the office.

  Welcome to the real world, Jordan. Kyle’s words taunted him. Growing up rich and protected definitely had not prepared him for the real world.

  * * *

  Kyle spied Ava as soon as she walked into the baggage-claim area. He wanted to go to her but his legs refused to move. Overhead light reflected off the brilliance of the diamonds in the wishbone pendant around her neck. If he hadn’t changed outwardly in two weeks, she had. Her hair was longer and her face thinner. His gaze lingered on the long-sleeved white T-shirt she wore over a pair of dark blue cropped pants before easing down her bare legs and feet slipped into a pair of leather sandals. He closed the distance between them as she glanced up at the monitor for the carousel where she would retrieve her luggage.

  “Are you Miss Warrick?” he whispered close to her ear.

  With wide eyes, Ava turned to find Kyle standing behind her. “How long have you been waiting?”

  “Not long.” He’d called the carrier and the recording had said that Ava’s flight had been delayed in Baltimore. Angling his head, he brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Welcome home, darling.”

  A rush of heat stung Ava’s cheeks with the public display of affection. “Thank you. I’m glad to be back.”

  “Are you?”

  “Very.” She hadn’t lied to Kyle. She was glad to be home and even more delighted to see him again.

  A loud buzzing sound signaled the start of the conveyer. “How many bags do you have?” Kyle asked.

  “I have only one.”

  “I’ll get your bag and then I want you to wait at the curbside while I go and get the car.”

  Ava was too exhausted to argue. Her flight had been delayed a couple of hours when a passenger complained of chest pains. Eventually a doctor was summoned and the elderly woman was removed from the cabin.

  Ava’s bag was one of the first off the belt. Kyle carried it outside the terminal to an area for passenger pickup. “Don’t run away,” he teased.

  * * *

  Kyle returned and stored her luggage in the trunk while Ava settled down in the leather seat. Her two-week vacation had been anything but a vacation. She’d gotten up early every day to make breakfast. It had been three days before Aisha was able to get out of bed and bathe the baby. Between cooking three meals a day, putting up laundry, shopping, dusting, vacuuming and cleaning, she collapsed into bed every night, sleeping soundly only to wake up and begin again. She covered a yawn with her hand.

  Kyle gave her a sidelong glance. “Sleepy?”

  She flashed a tired smile. “A little. I did manage to nap during the flight, but as soon as I dozed off it was time to touch down.”

  Putting the car in gear, he pulled away from the curb. “When are you going back to work?”

  Ava closed her eyes. “Not until Monday.”

  He smiled. “What are you going to do until Monday?”

  “Relax.”

  Accelerating, he maneuvered onto the parkway leading to Manhattan. “Do you mind if we relax together?”

  “Doing what and where?”

  “We can relax at my place. Remember, we still haven’t danced under the stars.”

  Ava opened her eyes to stare at the man who made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, made her want him even when they were miles apart. This was a man who touched a part of her no man had been able to touch, a man who had turned her sane, comfortable world upside down.

  “The night we were supposed to dance under the stars we were a little occupied doing other things.”

  “Was that the night you took advantage of me?”

  “Kyle!”

  “Was it, Miss Warrick?”

  “You practically begged me to do it.” Ava didn’t know why she sounded so defensive when she’d enjoyed making love to him in the most intimate manner.

  Kyle rested his right hand over her knee. “You’re right, darling. I’m sorry about teasing you.”

  She covered his hand on her knee. “Apology accepted, darling.”

  He moved her hand to the gearshift as he shifted into a higher gear. “Am I your darling, Ava?”

  The slip-slap of rubber on the roadway filled the interior of the small car. “Yes, you are,” she said in a voice so soft that Kyle had to strain his ears. “You’re my darling and I want to spend the next three days with you dancing under the stars.”

  “Is there anything else you want from me?” he asked.

  “No. Why?”

  “Just asking,” he said, deadpan. Kyle wanted to know because whatever she wanted—if it was within his power—he would give to her. “Is there anything you need to pick up at your place?”

  Ava leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. “Yes. I need to pick up my mail and some clothes. What about you, Kyle?”

  “What about Kyle?”

  “Don’t you have to work?”

  “Am I not entitled to take a few days off to hang out with my girlfriend? Besides, I haven’t taken a day off this year. The exception is holidays.”

  Lifting her head, she kissed his cheek. “Yes, you are more than entitled.”

  “Thank you, boss.”

  Ava’s expression stilled, becoming serious. “I’m not your boss.”

  “Yes, you are. Whatever you’d ask me to do I’d do.”

  Pulling her lip between her teeth, Ava pondered his statement. “If I ask you to marry me or get me pregnant, would you do it?”

  Kyle gave Ava a quick glance. “No.”

  “No,” she echoed. “Is it because you’re afraid of commitment?”

  “It has nothing to do with commitment, Ava. It has to do with you. You were the one who said you didn’t want to marry and you also said you didn’t want to be a baby mama.”

  “What if I change my mind?”

  Silence swelled inside the car until it was deafening while a lump formed in Kyle’s throat, making swallowing painful. Ava wasn’t the first woman who’d mentioned marriage and babies, but she was the only one he would consider marrying.

  “Ask me again when you really mean it.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Kyle, because I’d never want to appear so desperate that I’d ask a man to marry me.”

  He smiled. “
Here I thought you were a modern liberated woman.”

  “I am, but not that liberated. Some old-fashioned customs or traditions should never change.”

  “I agree with you.”

  As their gazes met and fused for a second, Ava felt an unexpected surge of warmth settle between her thighs. “What don’t you want to change?”

  Kyle returned his gaze to the road. “I believe if a man gets a woman pregnant that he should marry her.”

  “What if he doesn’t love her? Or if she doesn’t love him?”

  “It’s not so much about love, Ava, but about being responsible. There are couples who marry because they believe they’re madly in love. Then they fall out of love and either separate or divorce.”

  “But that sounds like a shotgun marriage.”

  “How can it be a shotgun marriage when both agree to marry for the sake of their child? As a social worker you probably see children exhibit a myriad of problems because their fathers aren’t in the home. You hear about athletes being role models for our youth. I don’t want some baller being a role model for my son. I should be his role model and I can’t be that if I’m not in his life every day, 24/7.”

  “What if you and your wife decide to end your marriage because it would be in the best interests of your children? What then, Kyle?”

  “Divorce shouldn’t translate into alienation or desertion.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, Kyle. As much as I resented the way my dad treated my mother, I never hated him, because after a while I realized his passive-aggressive behavior stemmed from his inability to control his own life. Even though he was a married man with children he was still controlled by my grandfather. When I read The Color Purple, I thought Alice Walker had eavesdropped on my family.”

  “The Chathams are hardly the Brady bunch. My dad didn’t marry my mother until I’d celebrated my first birthday.”

  “Why?”

  “Her father never liked my dad because he was a Vietnam vet and Gramps thought they were all a bunch of pot-smoking misfits.”

  “Did your grandfather ever change his mind?”

  “Not initially. Dad had gotten a job with the railroad and there were times when my mother would take me with her whenever my father had the route that went from New York to Florida. It must have been fate, but the train broke down in Virginia, and while the passengers waited for another train, my parents found a justice of the peace who married them. When they returned to New York my dad showed his father-in-law the marriage license, then waited for Mom to pack her clothes and took her home with him.”

  Ava applauded like a small child. “What a wonderful story.”

  “My mother calls my dad her romance-novel hero.”

  Ava wanted to tell Kyle that he, too, was a romance-novel hero. He was her hero—the best of the best men.

  * * *

  Kyle spun Ava around, then dipped her, his mouth inches from hers. “Are you ready to go inside?”

  Ava closed her eyes. She’d spent three hours reclining on a chaise on the deck at the rear of Kyle’s house before he’d pulled her up to dance with him.

  He’d driven her to her apartment to pick up her mail from the doorman, who’d stored it in a secured room where tenants’ packages were held for them. She lingered long enough to fill a weekender with shorts and tank tops. Kyle had invited her to relax and that was what she planned to do.

  “Can’t we spend the night out here?” she mumbled.

  Kyle pulled her closer to his body. “No, sweetheart. I can’t have birds and squirrels sampling your goodies.”

  Smiling, she opened her eyes. Soft floodlights illuminated the space. “What goodies are you talking about?”

  “Your fingers and toes, of course. What goodies did you think I meant?”

  “The other goodies.”

  Kyle carried her up five steps and into the kitchen, setting her on her feet. “If you’re talking about those goodies, then I’m going to make certain you don’t share them with anything or anyone else.”

  Ava stared at Kyle’s broad back when he turned to close and lock the door leading to the deck. “How are you going to do that?”

  He returned to the kitchen, towering above her like an avenging angel. His toned body in a black tank top and matching loose-fitting drawstring lounging pants made it difficult for her to draw a normal breath. The first time she’d seen him completely naked, Ava hadn’t wanted to believe that Kyle’s business suit had concealed that slim, rock-hard body that had her practically salivating. And what lay under the pants never failed to make the area between her legs moist with desire.

  Cradling her face between his palms, Kyle lowered his head and placed light, teasing kisses around her mouth. “I’m going to start by tasting your delicious lips,” he crooned. He drew his tongue over her parted lips as if he were licking the cream off a frothy dessert.

  His hands slipped under the straps of her top. “Then I’m going to sample your beautiful breasts.” Dipping his head, he eased her back against a door of the refrigerator and suckled her breasts, alternating between nipping her nipples with his teeth and rolling his tongue around the swelling buds.

  One hand moved lower, searching under the elastic band of her lounging pajamas. His fingers searched under her thong panty to find her wet and pulsing. Withdrawing his hand, his gaze fused with hers, he put his fingers to his mouth and sucked each one. “You taste as delicious as you smell.”

  Anchoring her arms under Kyle’s thick shoulders, Ava pressed closer. She wanted him so badly it hurt. Biting on her lip, she drew in a breath. “Oh, baby.”

  Kyle pressed his groin to her middle, wanting Ava to feel how much he wanted to be inside her. “What is it, baby?”

  “I need you,” she gasped.

  “I need you, too.”

  Desire swept over Ava as she clawed at the drawstring on his pants and pushed both hands down the cotton fabric to grasp his magnificent erection. The heaviness of his testicles and penis set her aflame and only Kyle Chatham could extinguish the out-of-control flames.

  Kyle’s pants settled around his feet and he stepped out of them, as he continued to suckle her breasts. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled at her pants and panties at the same time.

  Ava released Kyle’s erection long enough to pull her top over her head and push her pants off her hips. Seconds later the thong joined her pants on the tiled floor. A soft groan escaped her when he cupped her hips in his hands, lifting her off her feet. Somewhere between sanity and insanity she wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed inside her warm body in a single thrust of his hips.

  They stood in the dimly lit kitchen, her back against the smooth, cool surface of the refrigerator door, mating. That was the only word Ava could come up with to describe their coupling.

  A deep groan that came from Kyle’s throat accompanied each thrust. The wetness coming from Ava trickled down his thighs as he tried to get even closer. The inferno that had begun in her was transferred to him and in a moment of madness he regretted that she was using birth control. It had taken thirty-eight years for him to feel the pull of fatherhood, and he wanted the woman in his arms to bear his children.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Ava chanted over and over until it became a litany. The flutters began, softly at first, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she climaxed. But she didn’t want to have an orgasm. She wanted this to go on and on and on.

  Kyle felt Ava’s vaginal muscles contract around his penis, squeezing and pulling him in before easing. The familiar tingling at the base of his spine signaled he was close to ejaculating when that was the last thing he wanted to happen.

  But nature was not to be denied. He couldn’t control his hips as they moved back and forth like a jackhammer. Tightening his grip on Ava’s waist, he lifted her even higher for deeper penetration. Then it happened; Kyle felt as if the top of his head had exploded when semen shot from him with the velocity of a fired missile.

  Kyle’s deep
growl of satisfaction made the hair stand up on the back of Ava’s neck and within seconds her cries overlapped his as they climaxed simultaneously. She was still trembling when he lowered her legs.

  “Shame on you, Kyle Chatham,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Why shame on me?”

  “You have how many beds in this house and we make love in the kitchen.”

  Kyle eased his still-pulsing penis from her. “We could’ve used the table or countertops,” he teased.

  “Yuck! I will not make love where we have to prepare food.”

  “Stop being so parochial, Ava.”

  Easing back, she gave him a long, penetrating stare that mirrored disbelief. “How parochial can I be if I let you make love to me up against a refrigerator? And don’t forget what happened in the…”

  Her words died on her lips when he covered her mouth with his. “That is something I’ll never forget as long as I live.”

  Neither will I, Ava thought when Kyle took her hand. They walked through the expansive living/dining room to the staircase.

  There was nothing more to be said because their bodies had done the talking for them. The uninhibited, erotic coupling had cemented their relationship physically and emotionally.

  CHAPTER 13

  Ava stood in the doorway, waiting to greet her ten o’clock client. A bright smile lit up her eyes when she saw the woman wasn’t wearing her usual attire of sweats and running shoes. Today she wore a classic man-tailored white blouse, black slacks and conservative black pumps.

  “Good morning, Lisa. You look very nice.”

  Lisa Wilson flashed a shy smile. “Thank you, Miss Ava.”

  “Please come in and sit down.”

  Waiting until her client was seated, Ava closed the door then went over to sit behind her desk. Whenever she was in session she turned off the overhead light, leaving on a table lamp. The soft golden light created an atmosphere of calming peace.

  She’d moved into the medical director’s office and decorated it to reflect her own personality. A round table held a profusion of green and flowering plants in colorful pots. Her professional diplomas and social-work license were displayed on one wall while a facing wall had a quartet of pen and ink drawings she’d purchased from a Greenwich Village street vendor.