Let Me Hold You (McClain Brothers Book 2)

by Alexandria House

  “Uh, yeah. It’s been great. Elrich, I should probably—”

  “I miss you.”

  Huh? “What?”

  “I miss you, Kim. Things with my ex are just not what I thought they’d be, and I realized everything I wanted, the kind of relationship I’ve been trying to build with her, I already had with you.”

  Relationship? We never had a relationship. We were literally just fucking, so what in the entire world was going on here? “Um, what are you trying to say?” I knew what he was trying to say but hoped the question would make him change his mind about saying it. However, what my question, or maybe the crazy way I was sounding, actually did was make Leland not only sit up, but turn on the bedside lamp, climb out of bed, and walk around it to stand his entirely too fine ass in boxers right in front of me. He was frowning as he peered down at me.

  “I’m saying, I want us to start seeing each other again, but this time, I want it to be more than sexual.”

  My eyes climbed my man, then fell to the floor. If I had been about twenty shades lighter, I would’ve been beet red at this point as I tried to find words of response that wouldn’t tip Leland’s crazy jealous ass off to the reality of this conversation.

  “Um, that’s not possible right now, Elrich.”

  “Oh, really? Why?”

  I looked up at Leland, who raised his thick eyebrows, and then I dropped my damn eyes again. Then I held the phone, because…shit!

  “There’s someone else?” he deduced.

  Thank God he said it! “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah…Elrich, I gotta go.”

  “Okay. Um, bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I ended the call, and without looking Leland in the face, said, “Um, that was Elrich, the center’s social worker. He was just letting me know there was a break-in at King’s Dream, but he handled it for me.”

  I looked up in time to see him nod. “Good,” he said, before walking back around to his side of the bed, flicking the lamp back off, and climbing in beside me. After we had both settled back in each other’s arms, he said, “The social worker is a dude? You never told me that.”

  “I’m sure I did. But anyway, yeah…it’s a man. Elrich O’Neal. He was there before I came on.”

  “He sounded old.”

  My heart leaped in my chest. “You could hear him?”

  “I could hear his voice. Couldn’t make out what he was saying, though.”

  “Oh…yeah, he’s an older guy.”

  “You fucking him?”

  “What?! Why you ask that?”

  He released me and reached over to turn the lamp back on. Looking me directly in the eye, he asked, “Shit, you are fucking him, aren’t you?”

  “No!”

  “You used to fuck him?”

  “Uh—” My phone started buzzing again, and I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved it had interrupted this conversation or to feel anxious about it possibly being Elrich again. Or Armand.

  It was Elrich.

  Shit.

  To be clear, that would’ve been my reaction if it was Armand, too.

  I reached for the phone, but was too slow, because in the midst of my almost-panic, Leland’s quick, long-tall-ass had rounded the bed and snatched the phone up from the night table.

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at the screen. Then he accepted the call, put the phone on speaker, and as I stopped breathing, answered it with, “Aye, Elroy?”

  “Hello?” came Elrich’s uncertain voice. “I think I have the wrong number?”

  “Naw. You tryna reach Kim Hampton, right?”

  “Y-yes?”

  “This her man. Look, homie…I’m finna be knee-deep in her pussy in a minute so I’ma need you to stop calling, a’ight?”

  “Uh…”

  He ended the call and handed me the phone. All I could do was stare down at it and hope that Elrich didn’t call back, because Leland had just proven he was a complete-damn-fool. Then I decided to stop hoping and just turned the phone off.

  The room went black again as Leland turned the lamp off and climbed back in beside me.

  I turned around, eyed his silhouette, and said, “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “Believe it. That nigga was scouting pussy. That’s the only reason he called this late. Shit, if he handled everything with the break-in, there was no reason for him to call at all.”

  “Leland—”

  “And don’t bother lying about the fact that you been fucking him, because I know you have. He’s old, and his ass is too familiar, calling like that.”

  “So I just go around screwing any old man? That’s what you think of me, Leland?”

  “No, but you screwing that one.”

  “Screwed. Past tense, and it was over before me and you got started.”

  “Yeah, I figured that.”

  “So why’d you act like you thought I was still seeing him?”

  “I was testing you.”

  “Testing me? Negro, what?!”

  “I—”

  “You know what? I should go. I mean, you obviously don’t trust me, and you just embarrassed the hell outta me by answering my phone and saying what you said, and—”

  He pulled me to him, holding me tightly. “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m kinda crazy when it comes to you, baby. Dude had to know he wasn’t getting in no more.”

  “I had already told him that.”

  “And he still called back.”

  That, he did. I blew out a frustrated breath. “Leland—”

  “Look, I wasn’t really testing you. Shit, I don’t really know what the fuck I was doing. I just…I love you, Kim.”

  “I know you do, but you have no need to be jealous. No man can hold a candle to you in any category, Leland. Ever.”

  “Shit, I know.”

  “Conceited ass.”

  “Again, you love it.”

  “You know what? I do.”

  “I know you do.”

  “How are the headaches?”

  “Head—Damn, Aunt Ever told you?”

  “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Same reason you didn’t tell me about your insomnia. I don’t have them when I’m with you. They’re supposed to be tension headaches. I guess you take my tension away.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Me either. It’s a miracle with how you be working my damn nerves.”

  “Shut up!”

  He laughed and kissed my forehead.

  Silence settled over us, and just as I could tell by his breathing pattern that he was drifting off to sleep, I said, “Um, aren’t you supposed to be knee-deep in my pussy right now?”

  “You down? I mean, can you handle it with your stomach problem?”

  “I can always handle it, Leland.”

  “Well, shit, get up here and ride this thang then.”

  19

  I stood in the bathroom mirror and checked my makeup for the tenth time, jumped when I saw Leland appear behind me, then turned around and spread my arms wide, presenting myself to him. “You approve?”

  With intensity in his eyes, he nodded. “I always approve, baby.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. You ready?”

  He nodded again. “Yup.”

  He was wearing black jogging pants, a white t-shirt, and black South sneakers. I was wearing a white sundress and gold strappy sandals. So I asked, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

  “Yeah. What time is it?”

  “Uh, let me get my phone so I can see.”

  Following me from the bathroom into the bedroom, he said, “You need a watch.”

  “I know. Wait, you’re not wearing yours?” Picking up my phone, I said, “It’s nine-thirty,” without waiting for his answer. When I turned around and looked up, he was smiling at me while handing me a small bag, like the kind of bag jewelry comes in. I was becoming very familiar with those bags.

  My mouth dropped open. “Leland, what is t
his?”

  He shrugged. “A watch. Check it out.”

  I pulled the box out, opened it, and gasped. It was brilliant with diamonds and obviously expensive. Shaking my head, I said, “You gotta stop. You are spending too much money on jewelry and stuff for me. And the jet we took here? You’re gonna go broke!”

  “Kim, I’ve been in the NBA for eight years. If my ass goes broke from buying a few pieces of jewelry, I need to. And I didn’t pay for the jet.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. Let me put that on you so we can go. The car is outside.”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  The business brunch meeting was at the gorgeous beachfront Galveston home of business mogul Derek Hill, more than an hour’s drive from Big South’s home outside of Houston. It was a three-story structure with wrap-around covered porches on every floor. We were driven there in a limo that, along with the jet we flew to Texas in, belonged to Sable Inc., Hill’s company. Leland said he and Hill had known each other for a while, ran in the same social circle, and had been talking about doing business together for years. This meeting was about a new film production company Hill was starting, and he evidently really wanted Leland on board because he’d spared no expense making this meeting happen.

  I knew Leland co-owned a nightclub in LA and had his hand in other business dealings, but this meeting seemed big, huge, and something about knowing I was getting ready to see my man conduct big-time business turned me completely on. I was excited and a little nervous about meeting these rich people, but there was no other place I’d rather be at that moment than with him.

  We were greeted by Mr. Hill’s very friendly and tiny wife. I instantly liked her and loved her style. She wore a bright yellow romper on her short but filled-out frame and bedazzled turquoise sandals. Her toes were painted a peach color and her hair was in long, blond, Senegalese twists. She was the perfect combination of ratchet and sophisticated.

  “Hi! So glad you two made it safely!” she gushed. “Oh, I love your goddess braids, and you are just gorgeous!”

  “Thank you!” I replied. “You look beautiful. That shade of yellow is so pretty.”

  “Aw, thanks. I bet it would look even better against your skin. Hey, Leland!” she said, peering behind me.

  “‘Sup, Greer. This is my girl, Kim. Kim, this is Greer Hill, the lady of the house.”

  She grinned. “We’re not that formal around here and he knows it. Leland is a friend and one of our best customers. He’s been chartering our jets from time to time for a while now.”

  “Really?” I asked, looking at him.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I like the privacy sometimes.”

  “Well, y’all come on in,” she invited us. “It’s hot out there!”

  We followed her into her home, through a spotless foyer with shiny mahogany flooring into a beautifully-decorated living room which boasted huge windows that opened to a breathtaking view of the gulf. I almost tripped over my own feet from gawking at it. She led us up not one, not two, but three spiral staircases to the rooftop patio where we were to have brunch. Standing beside an elegantly-set table with a smile on his face was Derek Hill, all dreadlocked, tall—but shorter than my Leland—and fine. His wife stepped into his arms and kissed his cheek as she announced our arrival. They looked so good together, really good.

  Ungluing my eyes from the photogenic couple as Mr. Hill and Leland shook hands, I took in the panoramic view of the ocean and the exclusive neighborhood surrounding us. It was beautiful in an unbelievable way. I’d never owned a home, had never desired to because I was always so busy working and trying to give my son a decent life. Armand had the means, but only owned a condo in Miami in addition to the one he bought for me in St. Louis. All either of us knew were apartments. But now, seeing the world through Leland’s eyes, seeing how Leland, his brother, and the Hills lived, I realized what I’d been missing. Leland had invited me to his home, his beachfront home in LA, more than once. I’d declined more than once, because I was scared of upsetting Armand while Armand was off continuing to live his life. Maybe I needed to start living mine.

  “Thanks for having us, Mr. Hill,” Leland said, before introducing me to this powerful man. And once the introductions were done, we all sat around the table, and the brunch meeting began.

  I placed my fork on the edge of my plate and lifted the linen napkin to wipe my hands, my eyes on the view of the ocean as I considered Derek Hill’s proposal. It all sounded good—great, to be honest. But one thing was bothering me.

  I glanced over at Kim, who was taking a sip of her water with her eyes wide and glued to me, then redirected my attention to our host. “Derek, I’m not gonna lie. What you’re proposing sounds really good, like something I’d love to be a part of. Partnering with you to launch a new studio, a mecca for black screenwriters, directors, and actors? The possibility of finding the next Ava DuVernay or Ryan Coogler or Dee Rees and giving them a chance to share their vision with the world? That’s something I would definitely love to put my name and money behind, and honestly, I’m honored you want me to be a part of this vision.”

  “But?” Derek Hill asked, as he reclined in his chair.

  “But, I’m sure you know my brothers, Everett and Nolan, are launching a film production company.”

  He nodded. “McClain Films. I’m well aware of that.”

  “Then you’ve gotta know I’m not trying to be my brothers’ competition.”

  Leaning forward, he said, “But that’s just it. We wouldn’t be their competition. From what I’ve heard, your brothers are looking to make mainstream movies along the lines of The Best Man and Love Jones. They’re planning to revive the black love cinematic renaissance of the nineties.”

  I nodded.

  “What I’m proposing is a company that specializes in small, art house-type productions like Moonlight and Lee Daniels’ Shadowboxer. You ever seen that one?”

  I shook my head. “No, can’t say that I have.”

  “I have,” Kim said, speaking for the first time since we took our seats. Her eyes swung between me and Derek as she added, “It’s very different, definitely not mainstream at all. It’s-it’s provocative and dark and intriguing and-and shocking. It makes you think.”

  Derek smiled, and I had to admit that I was impressed with my woman myself. “Yes!” he said. “Those are the kinds of movies I want to make, stories that other studios would shy away from. Stories that are gritty, real…provocative and dark and intriguing and shocking. What I’m proposing is that the art will come first, and the money and accolades will follow. I believe that.”

  I glanced over at Kim again to see the glimmer in her eyes. This thing, this proposition, was exciting to her, and her excitement combined with Derek’s obvious passion for this venture, was beginning to rub off on me. “I can’t lie,” I said. “I’m liking what I’m hearing. How many partners are you planning to bring on?”

  “Three, including myself.”

  With lifted eyebrows, I said, “Three? So, who else besides me?”

  “Actually, a writer. A street lit author you might have heard of. His moniker is Street, but his government name is Lorenzo Higgs. He wanted to be here to meet you today, but his wife is due to have their fifth son any day now.”

  “I’ve never heard of him. Not much of a reader.” I heard a glass thud against the table and turned back to Kim in time for her to give me a slow smile. “Let me guess,” I said. “You’ve heard of him?”

  She nodded, looking like an excited teenager. “Yes, I’ve read some of his books. He’s phenomenal!” she gushed.

  “That, he is,” Derek agreed. “He’s written several books, has his own publishing house, and just recently completed his first screenplay, a paranormal love story.”

  “Paranormal! Wow, I didn’t know he wrote anything besides street lit!” Kim shrieked.

  “This is a new undertaking for him, and I believe it would be a perfect fit for this company. I’d like for it to be our f
irst feature,” Derek informed us.

  “This sounds…hell, it sounds like I need to be signing on the dotted line after my lawyer looks over everything. But before you have your folks send the contracts to her, can I see the numbers again?” I had the money to invest, more than enough, really. To be honest, the only real apprehension I had was attached to the fact that this would be the first business venture of this size I’d be entering into without consulting Everett first, but I knew it was time to cut that cord. It was time for me to stand up and be my own man. Everett had taught me well how to conduct business and grow my wealth over the years. It was time for me to apply that knowledge independently.

  “Sure. As a matter of fact, if everyone is finished eating, we can head down to the living room for drinks and I can show you the figures on my computer in living color.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  Shortly after that, we headed downstairs where we talked more business, drank some of his expensive bourbon—the same bourbon my brother had turned me on to—and then the Hills took turns bragging about their little girls. Kennedy and Sable, I think were their names. They were in Italy with their grandparents, according to Greer. We had a good time, and before we left, I gave Derek my word that if my lawyer liked what she saw, I was on board. I felt good about that, like I was investing in the future, a future that I hoped was full of me loving the incredible Kim Hampton.

  *****

  “Wow! Seeing you in action in there was just…wow!” Kim said, as the driver pulled the limo out of the Hills’ driveway.

  I shot her a lopsided grin. “In action?”

  “Being a business man and using that good business grammar. Leland, you have no idea what it did to me seeing you poring over those figures with Mr. Hill. Then, when you shook his hand and said you looked forward to making money with him?” She scooted closer to me on the seat and softly pressed her lips to my ear. “That turned me all the way on.”