Latoya scoffed and shifted her weight to one foot, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You just met her; you haven’t even been around long enough to know what makes her happy, let alone pull it off! Oh, and newsflash, dicking her down ain’t enough.”
“Oh my god. Toy, I don’t need you to speak for me!”
“Yes you do!” she snapped. “You’re up in la-la land right now, drooling and shit and not looking at the situation for what it is. He turned me down! He said he absolutely would not fuck you then turned right around and asked you to marry him! What kind of crazy shit is that?”
Natasha pursed her lips, staring at me thoughtfully. “That actually sounds very romantic.”
“Exactly,” Tonya added.
Latoya made a loud sound like a buzzer going off. “Nope. Not at all. It’s not romantic; it’s suspicious. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get got.”
I held my hands in the air, wishing I had a white flag to wave. “You’re trying to protect her. I get it. How about this, though? You give me the opportunity to not disappoint her, and the minute I fuck up you can ride my ass. Until that happens, you gotta cut me some slack though.”
She glared at me. “How about I don’t?”
“Toy—”
Laying a hand on her arm, I cut Tonya off gently. “Hold on a minute.”
Latoya’s eyes flashed angrily. “See! You won’t even let her finish talking! That’s that controlling shit already starting. Don’t try and tell me you’re a good dude when the red flags are already waving.”
Chuckling, I rubbed at my chin. “I cut her off because I don’t want her to waste her energy trying to argue with someone who is hell-bent on disagreeing with her. She’s been telling you how she felt from the jump—well before there was any ‘dicking down’ as you called it—but you aren’t trying to hear her.”
To my surprise, she didn’t have an immediate response. Taken aback, Tonya was astounded and Natasha jumped into the empty space.
“Let’s go inside, you guys. I’m hungry.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, lifting Tonya’s hand to my mouth to place a kiss on the inside of her palm. “Whatever Cyrus hooked up smelled amazing.”
Instead of saying anything else, Latoya stomped up the driveway and entered the house, and we all followed in behind her. Cyrus, Cynthia, and Wisdom had already taken their seats at the long dining table, and the four of us filled in around them. Once everyone’s plate was full of the stewed oxtails, fried cabbage, and buttered rice Cyrus cleared his throat.
“Well, now that the cat's out of the bag,” he nodded at me and Tonya, “we can go on with our lives.”
Tonya pursed her lips. “The cat was never in the bag, Daddy; I just hadn't had the chance to tell you guys yet. That's all. Motormouth over here,” she hooked her thumb over at Latoya, “wouldn't even give me the courtesy of being the one to break the news to you guys.”
“You were taking too long!”
Tonya narrowed her eyes and muttered lowly, “What is with everybody clocking my schedule?” Turning to look over at Cynthia, she said, “What time did you get that text message, Mommy?”
Cynthia stared at the ceiling as she thought about it. “Hmm, I think it was about seven forty-five in the morning. Maybe it was eight. Cyrus, what time did I get that message?”
“It definitely wasn't seven forty-five in the morning. We were just leaving out of the house, heading over to Chicken or The Egg. You got the message when we were sitting down and eating so it had to be,” he trailed off in thought, “almost nine.”
“Don't forget that Las Vegas is an hour behind us, so if it was nine here, it was eight there,” Natasha offered helpfully.
Cynthia looked over at me. “What time did you two get married?”
I cleared my throat. “We were pronounced husband and wife at seven twenty-six a.m.”
“Awww.” Natasha cooed, shaking Toya’s arm as she gazed at her eldest sister. “He remembers the exact minute that you guys got married. Isn't that romantic?”
Cynthia turned to her husband. “Why don't you remember the exact minute that we got married?”
Cyrus grunted. “If we had gotten married yesterday, I guarantee you I would remember the time. Hell, I don't even know the doggone phase of the moon last night. Ask him again in thirty years what the exact hour and time that they got married and see if he remembers then. Hmph.”
I laughed. They were a trip. Every single one of them.
“Mama?” Wisdom spoke up from his seat on Tonya’s left. “Do you remember the time, down to the minute, that I was born?”
Cutting her eyes at him, Tonya answered, “Of course, boy. I'll never, in my life, forget that; all those hours I lay on that table trying to push your big head out.”
“This big head is for my big brains, Mama.”
Tonya laughed. “I know, baby.”
“I know that's right, Wisdom!” Toya held her hand out to high-five her nephew.
Once the laughter settled down, everyone dug back into their food, but Wisdom wasn’t finished.
“I don't know, Grandpa. If my mama can remember the exact time that I was born and that was eleven years ago, maybe you should be able to remember what time you and Grandma got married.”
The whole table bust out in laughter at the cheek of the little boy.
“Exactly!” Cynthia gave Cyrus a look that wasn’t too hard to decipher.
The older man shook his head, dragging his fork across his plate and scooping up rice covered in brown gravy. “No, those two are not the same. One day I'll explain it to you.”
Wisdom shrugged. “You can explain it to me now, Grandpa. I'm pretty smart. I understand things.”
Tonya leaned over and hugged her son to her chest, placing a kiss on his temple. “I will explain it to you one day, baby boy. For now, let's just finish up our dinner so we can get away from this table and head home. You have school in the morning.”
The table became relatively quiet with everyone silently agreeing to focus on finishing up their meal. After dinner came to an end, I convinced Cynthia to let me wash the dishes and after that was done joined everyone in the front room of the house. As Tonya had said, Wisdom did have school in the morning, so we didn't stay much longer. Toya was gone before I had finished the dishes, followed by Natasha who gave no one but Wisdom a hug and yet managed to tell me it was good to see me again before she left out of the door.
That left me, Tonya, and Wisdom. Mr. and Mrs. Black were nothing but kind and courteous to me, giving me hugs and kisses on the cheek and handshakes with slaps on the back, telling me that they were happy to meet me and that they looked forward to seeing me more often. It was actually quite surprising, the lack of threats, the lack of disappointment, the lack of demand for information. Tonya had lucked up with her parents. Hell, I’d lucked up with her parents.
Chapter Eleven
When a Man Cleaves to His Wife
Once Tonya stepped outside, she instructed Wisdom to get in the car then stood, staring at me, a question in her eyes that I could read plainly.
“I’ll follow you,” was all I offered, and that seemed to be enough for her.
With a nod, she followed her son, climbing into her car and leading me, not even ten minutes away, to a home deeper into the same neighborhood that her parents lived in. It was a two-story, red brick house with a two-car garage that sat on an elevated foundation with a long concrete porch that was bookended by round pillars. A short flight of five wide steps led up to the porch furnished with a wooden bench swing, two wicker chairs, and a wicker table topped with a vase of colorful flowers.
Tonya pulled onto the driveway, parking next to a neon orange sports car whose hood was still warm. I parked on the street in front of the red brick mailbox and made my way up the cobbled path to open Tonya’s door before she could. She thanked me with a smile and led the way for me and Wisdom to follow her to the front door where she unlocked it quickly and pushed it open but didn’t
step inside. I watched as she bent down to slip off her ballet flats and pick them up before stepping over the threshold. Wisdom did the same, toeing off his sneakers and scooping them into his otherwise empty arms then walking side.
My own shoes weren’t so easily removed, so I sat in one of the wicker chairs—which I now thought might have been there for this specific purpose—and bent to unlace and remove my boots so I could join the others in the house.
“You can put your shoes there.”
Wisdom stood, just in front of me, pointing at a short, three-shelf, wire rack just inside the door.
“Thanks.”
Closing a narrow door to my right, Tonya turned to her son.
“Go take a bath then come see me before going to bed.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he chirped before dashing across the living room and up the stairs, leaving me and his mother alone in the foyer.
“The bottoms of our shoes are disgusting, so we don’t wear them in the house.”
I nodded. “Not a problem.”
“Good.”
With nothing else said, we just stood there, looking at each other, wondering what to do next. Well, she was probably wondering what to do next, but I had a pretty good idea of what I would’ve liked my next move to be. I wanted to pull her into my arms and inhale the sweet scent of her skin as she bounced on my lap, preferably while we were both naked, but this was her domain, and I felt the need to tread carefully. I wanted her to be comfortable having me in her space, to not have the awkwardness that danced between us now linger. And that meant being as patient as possible.
Grabbing her hand, I led her over to the L-shaped sectional sofa and sat down, gently pulling her down onto the cushion next to me. “Do you work in the morning?”
She nodded, eyes on our linked hands. “Yes but thankfully, I’m not opening the store. I go in at six o’clock.”
My brows rose. “Six o’clock in the morning?” She nodded. “You have to be at work at six in the morning and that's not opening the store?”
Apparently, my incredulity was funny because she laughed. It was a throaty sound, full-bodied, just like her and it brought a smile to my face. “Well, we open at four, so six is kind of like a late start.”
“Damn. I guess I underestimated how badly people have to have their caffeine in the morning. I can admit I’ve never been much of a coffee person.”
“Oh, yeah? People get crazy behind their coffee, and it doesn’t hurt that Tasha bakes some incredible pastries to go along with them. The medical center is not far from us, and we get a lot of doctors and nurses coming in and buying drinks and breakfast treats for their entire station or office staff. We get regular orders like those around four-thirty and five in the morning. If we were to wait until six to open, we would lose a lot of that business.”
I stared down at her, contemplating how what she’d just told me affected my flaring impulses. “Since you have to be to work for six, you probably should be getting in bed soon, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah, probably.” Straight white teeth took a hold of her bottom lip and nibbled as she observed me with what looked to be a similar contemplation. “Are you... staying here tonight?”
I wanted to tell her that she'd have to throw me out with the garbage if she thought I intended to be anywhere other than under her tonight, but instead, I lifted her chin until we were eye-to-eye and said, “Do you want me to stay here tonight?”
Those captivating mud-browns peered up at me from beneath thick black lashes, and I watched as those teeth released their captive and a pink tongue darted out and licked those full lips before retreating back to its cave. “Yeah,” she said. “I think you should stay here tonight.”
“Then I'm staying here tonight.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
We fell into silence once more, staring at one another, nothing but the distant sound of water rushing through pipes and our even breaths between us. I didn’t realize until she sat back that I still held her chin in my hand.
“Well, since you're going to be here, let me give you a tour of the place really quick.”
She walked me through the lower level of what appeared to be a twenty-five hundred square foot home, pointing in the direction of her bedroom as we passed through the open-concept kitchen and detached dining room living room combo. There was a second bedroom adjacent to the laundry room, which was near the door leading to the backyard, along with a half bathroom. I then followed her upstairs where I learned there were four more bedrooms—one of which was a second master—three more bathrooms, and a game room that boasted a large, sixty-inch, flat-screen television mounted on the wall above a shelf of gaming systems, a pool table, and a cocktail bar. I did a double-take at the sight of the pool table, genuinely surprised to see it in a home full of women.
As Tonya gave me the tour, she explained to me how she had purchased this home almost eight years ago after living with her parents until Wisdom was four. Her parents had helped her with the down payment under the condition that she take her two sisters with her when she moved, which she did, inviting them to move in with her and her son. Splitting the already affordable mortgage amongst the three of them made each of their payments minuscule for a home of this size.
I was impressed. Group economics was something that I believed more people should consider and was glad to see that Tonya was someone who lived it.
Just as we hit the last stair to return to the first floor of the house, Wisdom came bounding down behind us, clad in a pair of boxer shorts and an a-line t-shirt.
“That was quick,” Tonya mentioned with a quirk of her brow.
“It doesn’t take long, Mama. I’m still little, you know; I don’t have a lot of parts.”
I snickered at his cheekiness, but Tonya pursed her lips and rubbed a hand over his head, lips still twisted when she pulled away.
“Your hair isn’t wet.”
“I didn’t wash it.”
“It’s not even wet in the back, Wisdom.”
“Mama…”
“Did you even wash your neck? You couldn’t have if your hair isn’t wet back there.”
“Mama, I did.”
“Lift up your arm.”
The boy groaned but did as she said, lifting his arm and exposing his armpits, which had a light sprinkling of dark hair. To my surprise, Tonya brought her face close to his pit and sniffed. When she straightened, her eyes were narrowed suspiciously in contrast to the triumphant grin on Wisdom’s face.
“Did you smell that soap?”
“Don’t you get sassy with me, lil’ boy!”
He giggled and she rolled her eyes as she pulled him into a hug. After placing a kiss on both of his cheeks, his nose, and in the center of his forehead, she swatted him on the butt and bid him goodnight.
“’Night, Mama. ‘Night Jereth Hawkins.”
I waved at his retreating back. “Goodnight, Wisdom Cyrus Black.”
Once Tonya heard the sound of her son’s bedroom door close, we continued on to the back of the house where she flipped on the light above the stove before leading me into her bedroom, which was one of the two master suites in the home. Her bedroom was decorated in shades of pale gray and lavender, with a large, heavy, oak four-poster bed as the focal point of the room. Walking over to the functional piece of art, I took a closer look to see intricate detailing on each of the pillars. There were vines, different trees, and flowers in full bloom on all four of them. I knocked on one of the pillars, and the dull sound let me know that it was solid all the way through. It was certainly heavy. A glance down at the bottom confirmed this with the way it sank into the plush carpet that covered the floor in the entire room. I turned to Tonya who was still near the door, leaning against a matching chest of drawers with her eyes on me.
“This thing is magnificent!” I exclaimed. I haven't seen one like this—this…larger than life—in real life—probably ever, or at least not here in the states. There was something similar
in one of the villas that Hawk owned down in Cabo, but I didn't even have to guess to know it was similar in style but not quality. This piece she had here was legit.
Tonya smiled. “I'm glad you like it. It was a custom piece made for me by my uncle Odell, Giselle and Danielle's father. He's a carpenter with a furniture business in the same strip as my parent’s coffee shop, and I asked him to build me a bedroom set just after I closed on this place. He also built the furniture in Wisdom's bedroom and the set that’s on the back patio. He's immensely talented.”
Reaching up, I rubbed my hands along the top piece of the bed that connected the four pillars. “Talented is an understatement.”
“Even better, not only does the bed look good, but it's pretty functional, too.”
The huskiness in her voice pulled my eyes away from the bed and over to her, and although I could see her lids had lowered, there is an unmistakable intention in her eyes.
“When you say functional…” I trailed off, hoping she got my drift. Hearing her be direct was an act I realized I enjoyed. It wasn’t simply about gaining clarity; something told me that although she had the capacity to talk on and on, being frank—speaking her wants and desires—wasn’t something she often did.
That was going to change with me.
She propped a hand on her hip. “All I'm saying is that it can handle some shit.”
I rubbed at my chin thoughtfully. “Oh, really? And you put it to the test?”
Her shoulders lifted and fell. “I tried a few things, but, um… Well, I have a feeling that the kinds of things you can do are things this bed has never seen before.”
Tugging my t-shirt out of my pants, I started towards her. “Well, I guess we'll just have to change that. When I reached her, I grabbed her waist with both hands before sliding my hands up her torso, over her shoulders, and up to her neck to keep her head in my hands and tilted backwards as I lowered my mouth to hers. She tasted delicious, like the sweet dessert wine Cynthia had served after dinner to go along with the turtle cheesecake Tasha had made. Immediately her lips parted and her tongue darted out to meet mine in an erotic dance. Her nails dug into the wings of my back before deftly sliding underneath my shirt and dragging up and down my skin once, twice, a third time before coming around to my front and working at my belt.
To Break a Vow Page 9
