Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, you look gorgeous, but something is missing.”

  I glanced down at myself. “What?”

  “Turn around.”

  “Huh?”

  “Turn around, Jo.”

  I did, and a second or so later, felt him place something cool around my neck, heard Bridgette yell, “Damn!” and watched as Sage’s eyes ballooned.

  “What?!” I shrieked, as I reached up and caressed the choker.

  “Yellow diamonds to match your dress,” he said, with a smile in his voice.

  “Yellow—This is mine? To keep? Or to borrow, or—”

  “It’s a gift. From me to you.”

  Bridgette rushed to my bedroom and returned with my hand mirror. It was a lovely choker. Stunning. I lowered the mirror and turned to Everett. “But you already paid way too much money for this dress, and—”

  “Girl, if you don’t take the man’s gift and hush! Damn!” Bridgette fussed.

  I shot her a look, let my eyes fall on Everett again, and said, “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do this.”

  “I wanted to. You ready to go?” he asked, leaning in to kiss my neck.

  Closing my eyes and shuddering a little at his touch, I whispered, “Yeah.” Hell, he could’ve been taking me to the damn electric chair and my ass probably would’ve followed him at this point, skipping the whole way there. I was just that happy to be with him.

  The event was held at Second Avenue, a very exclusive nightclub co-owned by Everett and his brother, Leland. Yeah, that Leland—Leland McClain, the NBA star. I’d forgotten there were two famous McClain brothers until Everett mentioned Leland’s name. A third brother, Nolan, managed the club. Apparently, I would get to meet all of the McClain siblings that night, including Nolan’s twin, Neil, and their only sister, Kathryn.

  We rode there in his SUV, him sitting close to me holding my hand but silent, seemingly deep in thought. I didn’t mind the quiet, because I was nervous, on edge—shit, petrified. I wasn’t ready for what was to come: the pictures, the celebrities, standing in Everett’s huge spotlight with him, but this was his life and I wanted to be in it, so I had to suck it up and try to smile through it so I could have him in private again. I had pretty much psyched myself up, ready to fake it through the night and pretend I belonged on his arm until we pulled up to the three-story club and I saw the red carpet, the cameras flashing, and the gorgeous people making their way into the building.

  Panic struck me like a bolt of lightning. I hadn’t considered there’d be a red carpet. Everett hadn’t mentioned it, either. I grew so anxious, my hands started trembling, and then the itching started. I always itched under circumstances of extreme anxiety, but this was especially bad, because I was itching everywhere, including the soles of my feet, and since my shoes were tied in a big satin bow at my ankles, I couldn’t kick them off to scratch them. I moaned as I wiggled in my seat, tears pooling in my eyes. I was losing it in the back of this man’s limited-edition Escalade.

  Releasing Everett’s hand, I palmed my cheeks to keep from scratching my makeup off. I was damn near gasping for air, and I could feel heat covering my body.

  “Jo? Jo, what’s wrong?” He looked and sounded so concerned. I was ruining his night, and that made me want to cry even more.

  “Y-y-you didn’t mention a red carpet. You-I-oh…I’m-I’m scared.”

  He grabbed my trembling hands, his eyes locked with mine. “Of what, baby? The cameras? You said you were okay with pictures now.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. All I know is I’m terrified. I’m so sorry. You didn’t sign up for this. I’m ruining everything.”

  His eyes rounded the inside of the truck before landing on me again. “No, I…I’m sorry I didn’t mention the red carpet. I guess I thought you’d know there’d be one. There’s not much I attend that doesn’t have one. I…you wanna be let out around back? I can do the carpet alone. That’s what I had planned to do if you still wanted to avoid your picture being taken. Then you said you didn’t care, but this is a lot. I realize that.”

  I gazed out the window and then back at him. I didn’t want to go in there alone, either. I didn’t know anyone. “No, just…it’ll be okay, right? I don’t want to—I want to stay with you, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is.” He released my hands and placed his on my cheeks. “Just pretend we’re alone, that there’s nobody here but us. You can do this.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath, tried not to throw up when Dunn opened the back door and Everett climbed out, reaching for my hand. I took it, holding my clutch in the other hand and praying I didn’t lose my balance as I stepped out of the truck.

  Everett instantly pulled me to him, planting a kiss on my lips that muted the shuttering of cameras and screaming voices of the reporters and fans. I was glad Sage applied long-lasting lipstick or else he would’ve definitely been wearing it, too. When he backed away from me and gave me a smile, it really did feel like we were alone, and that served to slow my racing heart down.

  He tightly gripped my hand as we crept along the red carpet with him stopping to talk to reporter after reporter, folks representing a wide variety of outlets from the E! network to The Shade Room. I stood mutely by his side with a smile on my face, praying none of them would address me and none of them did, but they did ask him who his “lovely companion” was, to which he answered, “My girlfriend, Jo.” That would rev them up, but he just kept it moving before they could pry any further.

  Once we were finally inside the huge club that was bathed in soft red lighting for the occasion, my nerves settled a bit. There were considerably less camera flashes as there was only one official photographer and one videographer commemorating the occasion, a fundraiser for the Juanita McClain foundation, an organization Everett created in his late mother’s honor. He’d told me during one of our many conversations that she’d died at a relatively young age, when Leland, his youngest sibling, was just eleven years old and Everett was about twenty-two and newly married. Ella hadn’t even been born when complications from a stroke she’d suffered took the widow away from her family when she was only forty-five. His dad had died years earlier, making my heart further ache for him. Money raised by the foundation was funneled into stroke prevention research, education, and rehab benefits for other stroke sufferers. It was truly a noble effort.

  We’d barely followed Dunn inside with Tommy bringing up our rear before Everett was approached by some woman he introduced me to, some woman who was carrying a champagne flute and seemed very familiar with him, so familiar that when he introduced me to her, she snatched me into a hug, bathing me in her great-smelling perfume.

  As we moved further into the club, Everett said, “That was Samantha Streeter, my former manager and still a good friend of mine.”

  I nodded, as I did when I met record execs, other recording artists, actors, and actresses, most of whom were bona fied superstars. It was overwhelming to say the least, especially since I wasn’t just in some club spotting them from afar, as I’d often done when out with Bridgette or Sage or both. I was actually meeting these people, shaking their hands. It was surreal, but no more surreal than being on Everett’s arm.

  As we perused our way to our table, I thought about Bridgette and how being here would probably change her life and boost her career. She was super talented; she just needed a chance. I hated that the event was sold out when Everett invited me to it.

  When we finally made it to our table, I smiled. Our table mates were obviously his siblings and their dates, because the men all looked like variations of Everett—the oldest of the clan—dressed in tuxedoes. One by one, they stood wearing Everett’s smile and welcomed me to the table, but it somehow felt like they were welcoming me to their family. Leland seemed even taller than Everett while Nolan and Neil were much shorter—yet, still taller than me. All of them were handsome, and their dates were gorgeous. None of the McClain men were married. Bridgette was going
to kill me for not sneaking her in through the back or something. Sage, too.

  His sister, Kathryn, was tall, statuesque, beautiful, and the only McClain sibling who was lawfully wed. And her husband? He was hot as hell! I had to make myself stop staring at him. As I took my seat and listened to the siblings banter back and forth, I began to relax even more. I could already tell this was going to be a great night.

  “Wow, Ev. She’s like, a real woman. And she’s cute. And I can tell that’s her real hair. What happened? You ran out of models?” Kathryn asked.

  “Shut up, Kat,” was Everett’s response.

  “Hell, she’s just saying what the rest of us are thinking,” Leland chimed in. “I see you’re tryna be like me, now. I love me a real woman.” He emphasized his statement by wrapping his arm around his date’s shoulder, his noticeably older date. Leland couldn’t have been any more than twenty-five, maybe twenty-six. The chick by his side could’ve been forty, possibly even forty-five, beautiful, and super curvy. Leland evidently liked his women thick, and yes, real.

  “Nah, you copying off me, man,” Everett said, echoing my thoughts since Esther was quite a bit older than him when they got together.

  “Ev’s got a point,” Nolan said, with a smirk. His date was pale and blond, the only non-melanated person at the table.

  Neil rolled his eyes. “Nole, man. Just...” He sighed, obviously irritated with his twin about something.

  “Just what?” Nolan asked.

  Neil threw up his hands. “Nothing. Hey, Ev…glad you sticking with women that look like our earth, unlike some folks. She’d be proud.”

  “Don’t start with me, Neil,” Nolan shot back.

  Everett whispered in my ear, “Neil is hotep as hell, can’t stand Nolan dating all these white girls.”

  “Oh,” I said with wide eyes, but I had gathered that when he referred to their mother as their earth. I’d only ever heard hotep folks use that term. And as I thought about it, I’d never heard of Everett dating anything but black women. I had to wonder about his opinion of Nolan’s dating practices.

  “I ain’t starting shit. But you need to stop. It’s getting ridiculous. What are you doing? Flying them over from the Ukraine or something? They fucking you for freedom?” Neil asked, then took a sip of wine. “All these sisters floating around here and your ass over there with Svetlana.”

  Nolan’s date grinned as he chuckled, obviously oblivious to Neil’s insult. “You know what, Neil? At least I got a woman. Hell, I keep one. I ain’t stuck in the past like you. Shit, your ex done got married and you still sitting around waiting on her. You need to find you one of them sisters you keep talking about.”

  “Fuck you,” Neil spat. “Whitewashed ass…”

  With a satisfied grin on his face, Nolan said, “Truth hurts, huh?” He leaned in and kissed his delighted date on the cheek. “And her name is Danya, for your information.”

  Neil shrugged. “Danya, Svetlana, whatever.”

  “Hey, when’s the last time you talked to Emery, anyway? Or is she still ignoring your phone calls?” Nolan asked Neil.

  “You a bitch for that, Nolan. A real bitch,” Neil said, then left the table, returning a few minutes later with a glass of something that was most definitely stronger than wine. By then, Nolan’s attention was solely on Danya.

  As the conversation lightened with Kathryn talking about her online boutique, Quintessence, a site full of t-shirts with quirky sayings and gorgeous black art that I’d patronized without realizing it belonged to her, I felt Everett rest his warm hand on my thigh. I placed my hand on top of his and smiled at him, giving him my attention.

  “Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?” he asked.

  I nodded. “A few times.”

  “Just making sure you know.”

  “Well, I should look good. You paid enough for this dress.”

  “Stop that. I’da paid twice as much to see you in this, because…damn.” He kissed me and once we parted, my eyes swung around the table to see that everyone was staring at us, of course.

  I cleared my throat and as the thought occurred to me, leaned in close to Everett, and asked, “Is Ella at another table?”

  He sighed lightly. “Her mom said they had some important event to go to. Something they’re filming for their show.” It sounded like the whole reality show thing was a sore subject for him, so I didn’t pry any further. I merely nodded in response.

  I let my eyes scan the filling room as the McClains talked amongst themselves. About ten minutes later, I asked Everett where the restrooms were. Though I was attempting to whisper, Kathryn heard me and offered to go with me since she was, of course, familiar with the club’s layout. So after Everett planted a soft kiss on my lips, we were on our way, navigating the sea of people to the ladies room.

  “Girl, I haven’t seen my brother this happy in a long time,” Kathryn said. “You must be something special.”

  I smiled at her. “Well, he seems to think so.”

  “He—”

  Kathryn’s words morphed into a yelp when I was grabbed from the other side and yanked toward a wall in the dim corridor that led to the restrooms.

  “I thought that was you. The fuck you doing here with Big South?” he asked, his nostrils flaring as he tightly gripped my arms.

  “Sid, let me go!” I hissed. “Don’t start this right now! Please! Just let me go!”

  “You fucking that nigga, Jo? That’s who you been fucking? Huh? Tell me!”

  “Sid! Let me the hell go!”

  “Is South that nigga Eric?”

  “What—who?”

  “The nigga who sent them flowers to you! That was South?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kathryn hurriedly leaving, and I knew she was going to get her brother. I also knew the shit was about to hit the fan.

  “Can’t believe I’m sitting here with a Trump supporter at this table. Nole, man, you gotta stop this shit,” Neil said, shaking his head.

  “She’s not even from here. She’s Russian, Neil,” Nolan said through gritted teeth.

  “Exactly.”

  Neil had tried to stop himself, but now that he was juiced, he was back to shading the hell out of Nolan about the model he’d brought to the benefit, and it was all I could do not to crack all the way up. Ole girl could barely speak English, but her smile was on point. She looked happy as hell to be there with Nolan and ignorant of the fact that Neil’s ass was about to lose it. Those two were identical with totally different personalities.

  I was happy Jo had relaxed and felt bad for not preparing her properly for the evening, but I guess I forgot she wasn’t from my world even though that’s what I liked most about her. I’d honestly not dated a woman who wasn’t in the industry somehow since high school. Being around someone who hadn’t been ruined by fame or the desire for it was a nice change. Hell, it was a needed change.

  Scanning the room, I smiled at the people who caught my eye. It was a great turnout, and at ten grand a ticket, I knew we’d raised a good amount of money for the foundation. I was feeling proud, content, and happy to be spending the evening with Jo, so when Kathryn came rushing back to the table without her, I frowned, and when I saw the frantic look on her face, I jumped to my feet. What the hell was going on?

  “Ev, where’s your security?” she asked, as soon as she reached me.

  “Why? Where’s Jo? The fuck is going on?” My ass was seriously panicking.

  “Some guy just grabbed her.”

  “Grabbed her?!” I virtually shouted. “He took her? She’s gone? Jo is gone?” My mind was racing, turning corners, and about to skid out of control with crazy thoughts. I’d told several reporters she was my girlfriend. I was rich, rich as hell. Had someone kidnapped her for money?

  I should’ve had security follow her and Kat to the restroom.

  Shit.

  “No—no…I don’t know. He just grabbed her and started talking to her. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but s
he looked, I don’t know…startled? Like she knew him but wasn’t expecting to see him here?”

  “Ev, you need us?” Leland asked, nodding toward Neil and then Nolan.

  I shook my head. “Nah, y’all stay here.”

  I caught Tommy’s eye across the room and signaled for him to follow me while all at the same time wondering if someone had snuck into the club. I mean, I wasn’t associated with anyone who’d pull some shit like this, was I? Tommy must’ve alerted Dunn, because he was on my heels, too, as I followed my sister to where I hoped Jo still was. When I got to her, I was confused as hell. This nigga had her hemmed up, basically pinned against the wall. She looked like a caged animal. And that shit pissed me completely off.

  “Yo, what is this?” Tommy asked.

  “The hell is going on? Nigga, if you don’t get your hands off—” I started, but was cut off by this fool.

  “Man, South…you need to get the fuck on while I talk to my wife. I don’t know what she told you, but this pussy right here is off limits.”

  My eyes shot from the dude to Jo. “Wife?”

  She shook her head. “Ex-wife. Sid, you need to stop this shit!”

  “This is your ex? Bugz-NYC is your ex?” I asked.

  “Daaaamn,” Dunn said.

  “Ain’t shit ex about us. We just taking a break,” Bugz said. “She ain’t supposed to be fucking nobody else!”

  “How in the shit are we taking a break when you’re married with a baby on the way, you damn fool?!” Jo shrieked.

  “You know I’m just with her for my career. Your impatient ass supposed to be waiting on me!”

  “Huh? Are you the-fuck insane? You left me pregnant and alone, married another woman, and I’m just supposed to be sitting at home waiting for your sorry ass? For real?”

  “Hell, yeah! That pussy—wait, that shit you spit on my song was about her? You was talking about my muh-fucking wife on my damn song?!” He was out of Jo’s face, approaching me now.

  “Whoa, pardna’, you don’t want the shit you gon’ get if you step to him,” Dunn said, tapping the gun holstered under his tuxedo jacket.