“I’m fine with that. Let me take you out to dinner tonight, and we’ll iron it out then.”
The line moved as the first person in front of her left with their food. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.”
She closed her eyes briefly. Rashad was a charmer, always had been. It only took one night of watching him flirt with the female fans at a Gents show to see that. His ego told him that no woman could resist him, and while she’d love to take him down a peg, the truth of the matter was she couldn’t resist him, either. “What time are you picking me up?”
“Seven thirty. Thank you for agreeing, Lina.”
“You didn’t give me much choice.”
He chuckled again. “I’ll see you tonight.”
She disconnected the call just as her number came up. Shaking her head, she tucked the phone away and ordered her usual, a ham and Swiss wrap and baked chips.
With her food and a bottle of water, she left the deli for the walk back to her office. With every step, the dreadlocked hotness that was Rashad MacRae dominated her thoughts.
* * *
Rashad slowed his truck, his speed dropping below the twenty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit, as he neared Lina’s house on a quiet residential street. Her house was in the west Charlotte neighborhood of Wilmore. The area, located several miles from the hustle and bustle of the city center, was known for being diverse, family friendly and filled with eclectic charm. He rarely ventured to this neighborhood, preferring to live closer to the action and to his work in the city. Though, for someone as focused as Lina, he could see the appeal of living there.
He eased into a spot directly in front of her house. The large ranch-style structure had soft yellow siding, with multicolored stone surrounding the pitched roof at the doorway. The neatly trimmed yard was free of flowers, but there were a few bushes bordering the front of the house. To his mind, the home was very much reflective of the owner: beautiful and appealing, without any extraneous enhancements.
He got out of his truck, straightening his tie as he walked toward the door. He’d chosen to put on one of his best gray suits, minus the sport coat to keep him from bursting into flames in the Carolina summer heat. He hoped she’d approve of the charcoal-colored slacks, lavender button-down shirt, and purple-and-silver-striped tie he’d worn with his favorite gray-and-black wing tips. Sticking to the sidewalk to avoid trampling her grass, he made his way up to the house.
He raised his fist, gave a few sharp raps on the dark stained surface of her front door. Moments later, she swung it open.
As he took in the sight of her, he swore his heart skipped several beats. She was wearing a soft green sleeveless jumpsuit. He’d encountered these things before. He and the other guys in the band had jokingly referred to them as “adult onesies.” While he’d seen women wearing them on television and all over the Queen city, he’d never seen a woman who he thought looked good in one.
Until now.
The jumpsuit was made of a magical fabric that clung to every peak and valley of Lina’s curvaceous body. The low cut V-neck in the front gave him a glimpse of her cleavage. Figure-grazing fabric embraced her flat stomach and her round hips and thighs, and then flared out into a wide leg over her gold pumps.
“Hi, Rashad.”
Her voice snapped him out of his trance, and he realized he’d better stop ogling her so openly. His gaze drifted up to her face, taking in the barely there makeup and perfectly coiffed hair. “Lina. You look fantastic.”
Her sparkling raspberry lips tilted up into a smile, then parted. “Thank you. I could tell you liked the outfit by the look on your face.”
He smiled. What could he say to that? She’d caught him staring, and he couldn’t say he was sorry. She looked too damn good not to stare at. The reality was, she looked good enough to eat. He’d had the honor of tasting her before, and as his appreciative eyes raked over her once more, he hoped he’d have the honor again.
She turned away from him to lock her front door.
His eyes landed on the curvy roundness of her ass, and he shut his eyes briefly as the blood filled his manhood.
She faced him again, tossed her keys into her small handbag. “Ready?”
Oh, he was ready, all right, but in a totally different sense than she meant. Deciding to keep the thought to himself, he grasped her hand and led her to his truck. Once they were settled inside the cab and buckled in, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
The enclosed space of the truck’s cab subjected him to the sweet, floral aroma of her perfume. Her fragrance was so feminine and intoxicating he had to take shallower breaths to keep his focus on driving. He considered turning off the air conditioner and opening the windows, but it was too muggy a night for that. She didn’t say much in the car, seeming content to entertain her own thoughts while she watched the passing scenery through the passenger window. Picking up on her cues, he didn’t press her to converse. There would be plenty of time for that over dinner.
Once he eased the truck into a space at the Black Rose Inn, he cut the engine and went around to her side to open the door for her. In the time it took him to round the truck’s front bumper, she’d already swung the passenger door open. She was of average height, but his super-duty pickup was high enough off the ground that she might have to make a small leap to get out. He reached his hand out just in time to help her step down from the running board. Linking arms with her he escorted her inside.
The interior of the Black Rose was quiet, in keeping with the romantic atmosphere. The walls, covered in black brocade wallpaper, were decorated with framed photographic images of various rose varieties. A plush beige carpet was emblazoned with hundreds of black roses, alternating with loose petals. The round tables were cloaked in white cloths, and due to the absence of music being piped in, the only sounds were the few muted conversations being carried on by the patrons.
At the black lacquer podium near the door, Rashad gave his last name to the tuxedoed maître d’, who lead them to a secluded table near a window. Once they were seated and alone, Rashad looked across the table at Lina. She had opened the menu. Her shiny pink lips flexed slightly as she silently evaluated the choices.
He could watch her all night, but decided to try to choose his meal before the waiter arrived.
When the white-coated waiter arrived, Lina ordered the citrus glazed salmon and a green salad. Rashad placed his order for the medallions of beef with herb potatoes and zucchini gratin. Rashad kept quiet until the waiter deposited their glasses of iced tea on the table and departed.
He locked eyes with the beautiful woman sitting across from him and asked the question he’d wanted to ask since he ran into her that night at Cleveland and Wendell. “Why do you really want Monk’s piano?”
Her perfectly arched left brow hitched up a few centimeters. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you really want it for your mother?”
She nodded, the kind of slow nod you gave someone when you didn’t think they were following you. “Yes, I really want it for my mother, I told you that.”
He chose to ignore the insult of her slow nod, and shrugged. “I was just asking. I’m sure you know how valuable the piano is. It could bring in a lot of money on the open market.”
She pursed her lips. “I don’t really care about that, I make good money as it is. When I said I wanted it for my mother, that’s exactly what I meant. Once she has it, she can do whatever she wants with it. But she’s much too big a fan of Monk’s to sell it.”
Now he gave a slow nod of his own. “All right, then.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What about you? How do I know you wouldn’t resell it if you won the bidding?”
He leaned back in his chair, struck a nonchalant pose. “We both know I would never let Monk’s piano go
, not for any amount of money.”
She folded her arms over her chest. The gesture blocked his view of her cleavage, and he immediately felt deprived. “To be honest, Rashad, I don’t really know you that well at all.”
He knew that remark was meant to cut him. More than anything it irritated him. “Really, Lina? This again?”
Her expression was as blank and disinterested as he’d ever seen it. “Truth hurts.”
Before he could line up a response, the waiter returned with their meals. The man set the steaming hot plates before them and strolled away. Rashad looked across the table at Lina, who seemed to be completely focused on her salmon. To give her time to cool off, he started in on his own food.
When he’d finished the last bite of his dinner, he set his silverware down. She was still eating, but he couldn’t hold back what he needed to say to her any longer. “Lina, I’m sorry.”
She paused, a forkful of salad hanging in midair. Her golden eyes widened and her gaze locked with his. “What?”
“I said I’m sorry. For not being open enough with you when we dated, and for whatever I said or did to offend you after the fact. I’m sorry.” Getting the words out was unpleasant to say the least, but certainly not any worse than the many days and nights he’d spent thinking about her since they parted ways. He’d tried everything short of apologizing to her up until this moment, and he still wasn’t positive he’d done anything wrong per se. Still, if this was what it was going to take to convince her that their relationship deserved another try, then so be it.
She blinked a few times, setting her fork down. Her expression serious, she asked, “Do you mean that, Rashad?”
He nodded. “Yes. I know I’ll have to work to win you all over again, but believe me, I’m willing.”
Her expression softened into a Mona Lisa–like smile. “Then we’d better go somewhere more private to talk.”
He grinned, not needing to be told twice. He’d finally penetrated her rigid exterior, and he planned to make the best use of his newfound access. Raising his hand, he signaled for the waiter to bring the check.
Chapter 5
Strolling alongside Rashad through Romare Bearden Park, Lina had to admit she enjoyed his company. The feeling of his large hand cradling hers was familiar, comforting and much more arousing than she’d anticipated.
A quick glance at her wristwatch showed her that it was a few minutes past ten. The night air was warm, but thankfully less humid than it had been earlier. A soft breeze blew, rustling the needles of the towering pines and spreading the heady fragrance of their sap.
She looked over at him walking next to her, his profile illuminated the soft glow of the streetlamps lighting the path. He was well dressed tonight as usual. His sense of style was one of the things that had originally attracted her to him. She liked the colors he wore, and thought they complemented each other well. His dreadlocks, secured in a ponytail at his nape, cascaded down his back like a dark waterfall, leading her eyes to the welcome sight of his backside in the well-tailored gray slacks. She could clearly recall gripping that very backside as he stroked her to orgasmic bliss, and as the memories washed over her, she could feel the heat filling her neck and face.
“Are we going to talk now? We’ve been walking for a while.”
His question captured her attention and pulled her out of her erotic memories. Chastising herself for the direction of her thoughts, she nodded. “Sorry, yes. I really do want to talk.”
He offered up a dazzling smile. “I’m glad. Otherwise I’d just be making laps around the park in wing tips for no good reason.”
She chuckled. She’d spent so long being angry with him and avoiding him, she’d forgotten how witty he could be. When he’d waltzed into Cleveland and Wendell the previous week, she hadn’t been happy to see him at all. Now, alone with him under the pine trees, she could feel that initial attraction she’d felt for him when they met last year rising again. “I never said it inside the restaurant, but I accept your apology.”
“Glad to hear it.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you were right when you made that remark about me holding all men responsible for what Warren did to me.” The bitter memories of her ex-husband’s blatant and repeated infidelity had changed the way she interacted with other men. Logically, she knew how unreasonable her disdain for men was; not all of them were like Warren. But logic rarely won out when it came to her emotions.
She glanced at Rashad, and found his eyes on her. A soft smile touched the corners of his lips.
“It wasn’t meant as an insult, Lina. I just wanted you to see things from my perspective.”
She nodded, their gazes still locked. Their steps slowed as they came near a wrought iron bench with its back resting against the trunk of a willow tree. With a gentle tug, he led her beneath the cascading canopy of leaves, and they sat side by side on the seat.
He draped his arm around her shoulder, and she didn’t protest. Instead she inched closer to him, letting their thighs touch.
She inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of his cologne, the recently trimmed grass and the hints of the coming rainstorm hanging on the night air. “Every other man who’s approached me lately has been put off by my attitude, you know.”
He shrugged. “None of them could handle you anyway, if that’s all it took to run them off.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re mighty persistent, aren’t you?”
“Only when it comes to what I want. And I want you, Lina.” He reached out, his large hand cupping her cheek as he tilted her face up toward his gaze.
Her pulse quickened as the heat of his palm penetrated her skin. Once again, logic abandoned her and allowed her emotions free reign. Looking into his dark eyes, with the memories of all they’d shared passing between them, she knew it was only a matter of moments before he kissed her. And if he kissed her, it would be all over for her as far as putting up any resistance went.
He rotated his upper body, slowly leaned in her direction.
She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, torn between logic and desire. Could she really trust him with her heart again? Parts of her were still unsure. She needed to buy herself some time, give herself space to think this through more fully. So she blurted, “It’s going to rain any minute.”
He smiled, but didn’t halt his approach. “I don’t give a damn.”
Before another moment could pass, his full, soft lips touched hers. As soon as their lips met, her insides melted and all thoughts of resistance drained away. Her hands moved of their own accord and gripped the solid muscled planes of his forearms, while he placed his free hand on the small of her back. The tip of his tongue darted between her lips, and a soft groan escaped her. Damn, he was as good a kisser as she remembered, maybe even better.
The first few drops of rain that hit them were ignored as the kiss deepened. The low hanging branches of the willow tree provided some degree of shelter, but as the droplets came heavier and faster, pelting her skin even through the canopy of leaves, she was dragged back to reality. She broke the seal of their lips, easing away from him.
Over the sound of the rain, he said, “I’d better get you home before we’re both soaked.”
She nodded, brushing away the droplets of water from her upper body.
He stood, and after taking off her heels, she followed suit. The two of them clasped hands, and dashed from under the tree. Out in the open, she laughed aloud as they ran down the footpath, sidestepping puddles. Her bare feet slid over the wet grass, but she felt confident she wouldn’t fall with Rashad’s strong hand locked around hers. By the time they made it back to his truck that was parallel parked on the curb, both of them were soaked to the skin.
He opened the passenger side door, and she tossed her shoes into the floor
board next to her purse before climbing in. Once she was secure in the leather seat, he walked around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.
She knew she must look a mess, and a glance in the rearview mirror confirmed it. Her formerly coiffed hair was now dripping wet, the curl returning to her flat-ironed tresses. “Sorry about getting your seats all wet.”
He started the engine, pulled away from the curb. “Don’t worry about it. I just wish I’d remembered my umbrella.” He reached between the seats into the back of the truck’s cab and showed her the long black umbrella laying on the backseat.
She chuckled. “Me, too. I left mine in the stand by my front door. Walked right past it.” A chill passed over her dampened skin, and she shivered.
As if sensing that she was cold, he turned on the heat, letting the warm air flow into the cabin. “I’ll admit wanting you to be wet tonight, but not like this.”
In that moment she swore the temperature climbed twenty degrees. Words failed her as she looked at his profile. His full attention was on driving, so he didn’t look her way, but she sensed the honesty and desire in his words. Another shiver ran down her spine, and this time, it had nothing to do with the damp clothing clinging to her body.
They rode in silence to her house. Once there, he pulled into her driveway and got out, taking his umbrella with him. By the time he opened the door for her to get out, he’d opened the umbrella. The rain had slowed a bit, but was still coming down. With the wide canopy sheltering both of them from the rain, he walked her to the door.
Clutching her shoes and handbag in one hand, she used the other to unlock her door. The lock turned and she pushed the door open, tossing her things inside the door. Turning to him, she looked up into his eyes. “Are we really going to do this again, Rashad?”
“If you’ll have me, Lina. I want you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m worthy of you.” The shadow of the umbrella canopy hung over his face, but she could clearly see the sincerity in his eyes.
Every Beat of My Heart Page 4
