“He likes my freckles. He-he kissed them today.”
“He kissed you again?!?!”
I nodded.
A slow smile spread across my friend’s face. “You like him. That’s the real issue here, isn’t it?”
I sighed and lied, “No. It’s just weird for him to be so…aggressively interested in me. Haven’t ever had a man pursue me like this, and he’s damn famous. I just don’t get it.”
“Why not? You’re beautiful!”
“I’m funny-looking, and you know it. But thanks anyway.”
“Your ass ain’t funny-looking to him, obviously.”
I shrugged.
“Where is he taking you?”
“Uh, Ilbert’s? Never heard of it before he mentioned it. He said they cater to celebrities, have a strict privacy policy. I told him I’m not trying to be on those gossip blogs…”
“Ilbert’s? That’s like one of the most exclusive places in the whole damn state! Not many people can afford to eat there, and I hear the food’s crazy good.”
“I’m scared, Bridge. No, I’m fucking petrified. What if this actually leads to something? What if he just ropes me in and then let’s me down? What if I end up being hurt? I couldn’t survive that shit again.”
Bridgette reached for my hand, squeezing it in hers. “I knew that was where your mind was going. Jo, Sid was-is indisputably a total and complete asshole who wronged you. He deserves to have his dick cut off and stuck in his mouth, and if you recall, I offered to do just that for you. But this man is not your ex. It’s just a date, something that could be fun if you get out of your head. Maybe it’ll lead to love and marriage, or maybe it’ll just lead to sex—which, like I said before, your ass needs—or maybe you’ll have this one date and never see him again. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you need to do something other than hide from the world because your ex-husband is a piece of shit and you had a rough childhood. You deserve to live, sis. So…live. Starting tonight. Enjoy being in the presence of a man half the world’s female population would kill to have one conversation with.”
I blinked back tears. “Okay…okay.”
“Now, let’s see what you got in your closet. Hopefully, we can put something together before Sage gets here, but look, if you’re gonna keep seeing him, we’re gonna have to do some shopping.”
I smiled and followed her to my bedroom, thinking to myself that I needed to go shopping anyway. I’d shut down after Sid left and focused solely on taking care of Nat, hadn’t really done anything for myself in a while. Maybe Bridgette was right. Maybe it was time to begin living again, starting with doing some things for myself, including spending some time with a man who seemed nice, was handsome, and if I was honest with myself, a man I was once a fan of and was very attracted to.
8
She was late.
I wasn’t big on punctuality, but she was really late, thirty minutes late to be exact, and I didn’t have her phone number. That was a dumb move on my part, but I had a feeling she wasn’t ready to give it to me yet. Jo was cagey as hell. I could tell she liked me but didn’t want to like me. I probably needed to slow my roll with her, but shit, I couldn’t. She stayed on my mind and I had no idea why. It was like all these years since breaking up with Esther, something had been missing and whatever it was, was hidden inside of Jo. I was drawn to her like a motherfucker.
When she finally arrived, Tommy escorted her into the private room I’d reserved. I stood and pulled out her chair for her, licking my lips as I got a good look at the short black dress she wore that gave me a nice view of those bowed legs of hers. Her hair was big and wild, and although she wore makeup, including bright red lipstick on her big, soft lips that made them look even bigger, I could see her freckles. Whether she realized it or not, and I really don’t think she did, Jo oozed sex appeal.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, as she sat down.
After I’d reclaimed my seat, I said, “Traffic?”
She grabbed the water glass sitting before her and took a sip before giving me an embarrassed look, and saying, “Got lost.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Don’t you have a GPS?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but I rarely use it because it distracts me, which makes me almost as nervous as LA traffic does, but I found my way and made it. Just…late.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Uh, about nine years. Since I was nineteen. I followed my friend, Bridgette, the one you met at the after-party, here. We’re both from Alabama.”
I grinned. “I thought I heard a hint of an accent. Southern girl, huh?”
She smiled and shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Where in Alabama are you from? I got people there.”
“Reola. A small town, so small if you blink, you’ll miss it when you drive through there. I loved it as a kid, but don’t think I could live there now. Shit, I’m rambling. Sorry. I’m so nervous.”
“Nervous? Why?”
Her eyes met mine and expanded. “Um, because you’re you, and I guess I don’t get your interest in me.”
“I like you, Jo.”
“I know that, but why? I’ve seen the pics of you with other women, none of which look like me. Models and actresses. I’m a regular chick just trying to make it. I’m not from your world.”
“I think maybe that’s why I’m drawn to you. You’re different, you speak your mind, you’re beautiful…or maybe I just like women who curse me out.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t curse you out.”
“Yeah, you did. And you were sexy as hell when you did it.”
She rolled her eyes. “So what’s good here?” she asked, picking up the menu sitting before her.
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
She looked up at me. “You’ve never eaten here before?”
I shook my head. “No, but I hear their seafood is good.”
Frowning slightly, she asked, “Why would you bring me here if you’ve never eaten here before?”
“Trying to impress you.”
I could see her cheeks flush.
“You look gorgeous, by the way,” I said.
“Thanks. Uh...so do you. I mean…shit, I mean, so do you,” she stammered, ending with, “Fine ass.”
I chuckled. “Thanks.”
The waiter arrived, took our orders, returned shortly with our drinks—ginger ale for Jo and wine for me—and then we sat there in silence for a few moments.
Finally, I asked, “What is a woman like you doing single, Jo?”
Her eyes widened. “Uh, I was married. I’m divorced now.”
That was a surprise to me, made me wonder what type of fool would let himself lose a woman like her, despite the fact that I barely knew her. “Were you married long?
“Three years. We were together for four. Things ended badly. Don’t really like to talk about it. It’s over and I’m glad.”
“I am, too.”
She gave me a little smile. “So, tell me something about you that I can’t find out by doing a Big South Google search.”
I leaned back in my chair and thought for a moment, sat up, and said, “I’m lactose intolerant.”
Her mouth fell open and she covered it, stifling a giggle. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “Like a motherfucker. Milk, ice cream, and cream cheese tear my stomach up. It ain’t pretty.”
She laughed for another minute or so, cleared her throat, and said, “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I bet you weren’t. Anything else you wanna know?”
“Who’s your best friend?”
“Keith Coleman. Been my best friend since fifth grade.”
“You still in touch with him?”
I shook my head. “Not like I should be. Been busy, haven’t talked to him in years.”
“You should reach out to him.”
“I know, but I got my brothers, too. They’re probably my closest friends right now. Who’s yours?”
“Bridgette.”
“I figured that.”
She dropped her eyes and then peered up at me. “Um…does your girlfriend know you’re here with me?”
“If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t be here.”
She gave me a smirk. “If you say so…”
I looked her in the eye. “I didn’t cheat on my wife, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Why didn’t you deny it when I brought it up before, then?”
“Because I usually like letting people think what they wanna think, but you ain’t just…people. The truth is, we didn’t split because I cheated.”
“My husband did. I mean, he cheated on me.”
“He’s a damn fool, then. Why would anyone want to cheat on you?”
“You wouldn’t?”
“Hell, no.”
Our conversation was interrupted by the waiter bringing our salads, and we ate in silence. Then our entrees were delivered, so more silence. It was Jo who broke it.
“Um…Big—Everett?”
I looked up from my ribeye. “Yeah?”
“I have a daughter.”
I laid my fork down. Wasn’t expecting that, either. Had no clue she was a mother, not that it mattered. “You do?”
She nodded. “Yeah. She’s two. Um, I don’t know what your intentions are, but I wanted to give you full disclosure, so you can…” Her voice trailed off.
I stared at her for a second. She was nervous again, and I had no idea why. “So I can what?”
She shrugged. “Just thought you should know.”
“What’s her name?”
“Natalie.”
“That’s a pretty name. Classic. Like my daughter’s name.”
“Ella…”
“Yeah. Hey, can I see a picture of your daughter? You got one on you?”
She sat there for a moment before reaching for the cell phone she’d placed face down on the table, tapping on it for a few seconds then handing it across the table to me. Her little girl was smiling in the picture, little white teeth gleaming. I tried to find Jo in her face, but other than the lips and the gap between her two top front teeth, she looked nothing like her. She was beautiful, though, and a shade or two darker than her mother with curly, black hair.
“She doesn’t look that much like you,” I said, “but she’s still beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she replied, as I handed the phone back to her.
“So, what am I supposed to do now that you’ve told me about her? Change my mind? Break and run?” I asked, as I relaxed against the back of my chair.
Her eyes went to the curtain-covered window to the left of the table. “That’s what her father did, came home one day when I was six months pregnant and told me he didn’t want a family anymore, that he’d never really wanted kids. Left me, filed for divorce, didn’t even come to the hospital when I had her, has probably seen her ten times in her whole life. He won’t even say her name.”
I frowned as I leaned forward, my eyes on her. I knew she was guarded and mean as hell. Now I knew why. Some idiot had hurt her in the worst fucking way. “Then he wasn’t a fool like I said before. That motherfucker is a moron. For a man to treat the mother of his child like that? Not treat that little girl like a princess? He don’t deserve to be above ground. Stupid ass...” I might have done my dirt, lots of it, but I didn’t believe in mistreating women. I was always up front with everyone I dealt with.
Her eyes darted around the room. “I like you, too,” she confessed out of the blue.
“I’m glad you do.”
“And this food is good. Thank you for inviting me here. I-uh-don’t get out much.”
“Then I’ll have to change that.”
*****
I practically had to beg her to let me follow her home, but since she got lost on her way to the restaurant, I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I wanted to be sure she made it safely. She almost looked like she was going to cry when she finally agreed, and that made me wonder if she was ashamed of where she lived. Hell, she could’ve lived in a rat trap and I wouldn’t have cared. I’d buy her a better place if she’d let me, because Jo just made me want to take care of her.
When she pulled up to the guard shack in what I knew was a very exclusive gated community, I had to wonder if she was leading me to a friend’s house or something. Maybe her actress friend?
I sat in the backseat as Tommy followed her little Lexus into the driveway of a house I recognized, one I had looked at shortly after I left Esther. At the time, I was thinking of buying it but changed my mind, deciding I didn’t want to live in LA full time anymore. I was trying to wipe my marriage out of my mind and believed living in LA would make that impossible. I remembered that the house was just as nice on the inside as it looked on the outside. Who the hell lived there? As Jo climbed out of her car and walked toward my truck, I hopped out, taking her arm gently. “Let me walk you to the door.”
She nodded and led the way.
Once we were at the door, I asked, “Whose house is this?”
Her eyebrows rose as we stood in the well-lit doorway. “Mine.”
“Word? Peter Park paying you like that?”
She shook her head. “Got it in the divorce along with great child support,” she said, almost as if she was ashamed.
Who the hell was her ex? Fucking Michael Jordan? I should’ve asked, but I was afraid to. My ass was feeling threatened like a motherfucker. Her used-to-be man was obviously rolling. What the hell could I give her that he probably hadn’t already? Shit. This revelation really messed me up. “Oh, okay,” I said, playing it cool. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” I asked, as I rubbed her freckles with my fingertip.
“I did. You are surprisingly much less of an asshole than I originally thought.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Glad to know I improved your impression of me.” I dragged my finger over her nose and smiled down at her.
“You really like my freckles, huh?”
“Yeah. Don’t you?”
“No. Always hated them. My lips, too. Got teased mercilessly about both when I was a kid.”
Speaking of lips…I leaned in and softly kissed hers. “You mean, these lips?”
Her mouth hung slightly open as she nodded.
“Well, I’m fond of them, too.”
I could see a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she reached up and touched my top lip. “I like yours, too.”
I don’t know what about her touch got to me, but the next thing I knew, I was leaning in kissing her again. This time she instantly opened her mouth to mine, and my tongue found hers the moment it slid inside. We kissed for what felt like hours, her arms around me, her small hands rubbing my back as I held her face in mine.
When we broke apart, I whispered, “Can I see you tomorrow?”
Through heaving breaths, she replied, “Tomorrow night? Dinner again? I’ll have to check with my babysitter…”
“Dinner, lunch, breakfast—shit, a snack. Whatever. I just wanna see you.” I rubbed the back of my hand over her cheek.
Closing her eyes, she said, “L-lunch would be better.”
“I know you don’t wanna be photographed, so we can eat in my suite, or at the hotel’s restaurant, or wherever you want.”
“Um, your suite is fine as long as you promise not to—”
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
Her eyes met mine as she licked her lips. “That’s the problem. I want you to do a whole lot of stuff to me.”
My damn chest tightened. “I—shit, for real?”
“Yeah. For real.”
“Damn, Jo. You’re messing with my head,” I murmured.
“Don’t mean to. It’s the truth. What’s your number?”
“Huh?” My ass was mesmerized, caught up in thoughts of just what I could and would do to her given the chance. My shit was rock hard. The things this woman made me feel…
“Give
me your number so I can text you what time we can meet for lunch. I don’t have a set lunchtime. It always depends on Mr. Park’s moods.”
“Okay. Um, all right…”
We exchanged numbers, then I kissed her one more time and reluctantly left.
In the truck, Tommy asked, “You really feeling her, huh, Boss?”
As he backed out of her driveway, I smiled, and said, “Yeah, I really am.”
9
I spent the night after our date obsessing, of course. But it was a good kind of obsessing. I kept mentally rehashing every word he said, the way he looked at me, the way he seemed to unravel when I basically told him I wanted to have sex with him, how he kissed me, his smile, his touch. The look in his eyes right before he left me on my doorstep, like the last thing he wanted was to have to leave me. Everett “Big South” McClain made me feel…special, desirable, sexy as hell, and powerful, very powerful.
I didn’t get much sleep, but energized from thoughts of Everett and the excitement of getting to do what I’d been dreaming of doing since I stepped foot in Bijou Park, I hopped out of bed and managed to make it to work early. Had to stand outside the double doors and wait for Freda to unlock them for me. Peter Park was already there, but we all knew not to bother him about unlocking the doors. Once inside, I glided to his office to see if there was anything he needed me to do before heading to Shirl’s office where I occupied a corner, quietly making mock-ups of the piece I was to create for Everett’s daughter.
“Here early, huh?” Shirl said, when she arrived.
I looked up at her, smiled, and nodded. “Yep. Got work to do.”
“I heard Mr. Park finally let you loose. I know you’re gonna do a great job. You’ve got a good eye.”
My smile grew wider. “Thanks, I’m excited but scared to death. I hope you won’t mind me calling on you to help me.”
“Of course not! You know…you look different today. You wearing makeup?”
“A little.”
“You look cute.”
“Thanks.”
A second after Shirl left to get the piece she’d been working on from the onsite vault, a text from Bridgette popped up on my screen: So is your ass ever gonna tell me about your date?
Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1) Page 5
