Loving HART

Home > Other > Loving HART > Page 1
Loving HART Page 1

by Theresa Hodge




  LOVING HART

  A BWWM ROMANCE

  Standalone

  by

  THERESA HODGE

  © 2016

  THERESA HODGE

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the publisher. This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 18+

  Newsletter Signup!

  http://amazon.us9.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=ffde15be91b185d57d934a65c&id=1f6b614090

  Love has chaseth me to the yard of loneliness. I’m here not by choice but because I’m left with a broken heart. Like a bird, I take flight into the night. My whole world is empty and dark. I am just a loner in the night. Unrest found its existence upon my bed of despair. These drops of tears runneth like rain…flowing forlornly into the troubled sea of pain. One day of folly and betrayal leadth my heart astray but not to delight in the day of a heartfelt promise. Flawless beauty turneth to ugliness leaving me blind with a reminisce of how it used to be. Now, my days and nights are dimmed forever, unless a knight riding into the night, will come to rescue me from this pasture of loneliness, wearing a shining full plated armor, jousting away the pain. Who dare loveth me and only me? Who dare conquereth my heart to the end of times? Who dare chaseth my hurt away? Until it’s no more…no more…no more…

  PROLOGUE

  WHITNEY

  I toss restlessly upon the canopied bed. My windows are open to let in the midnight breeze, but somehow my brown skin still feels feverish from the heat that permeates the room. “Damn! When is my landlord getting this damn air conditioner fixed?”

  I’m beyond angry as I fluff my pillow. Reaching for the pillow, I turn it to bring the cooler side against my cheek. “My rent is too damn high to be living in these conditions,” I mutter with disgruntlement. “It’s no use. I can’t sleep.”

  I sigh with frustration as I become stickier with the sheen of sweat that glosses over my body. I sit up and place the pillow in my lap as deep-rooted memories assail my brain.

  Tony’s words from our last date come back to me full force. The words he spoke should’ve set off a wary feeling within me, but stupidly, I twisted them to mean what I wanted them to.

  “Whitney, do you think a man or a woman can be in love with two individuals at the same time?” he’d asked me as we sat across from each other at a restaurant eating dinner.

  “No, not really. I do think a person can be in like or lust with someone, even if they love someone else,” I answered, looking across the dinner table at him. His sexy kissable lips and neatly shaved facial hair complemented his chiseled face and deep, dark brown eyes. Oh, how I loved looking into his brown eyes.

  Tony wasn’t a male model but he should have been. He had close cropped, wavy hair that he kept well-groomed at all times. His body was toned and his muscles had a rippling quality, a sign of how he loved to exercise and stay in shape. His skin was free of blemish and he had a sexy goatee that neatly accentuated the bottom of his chin. Yeah, Tony was sexy and one handsome man and I was happy that he was mine.

  His straight nose complemented his prominent cheekbones and square chin. Handsome in an understated way, his wide jawline and athletic shoulders spoke of strength. He possessed an unconcealed, grand power and always walked with ambition and authority.

  People always remarked that his best feature was his entrancing, warm brown eyes. Tony’s deep-set eyes could shine as bright as the night’s moon when they filled with desire. At other times, they favored two muddy liquor-filled tumblers of fiery brandy when he was angry. I was happy that I always stayed on the other side of that anger. I guess that’s why his company granted him such an important position. He was a great figure of authority that led his team to many successes. He was also quick to make me smile on many of occasions. My musings always got the best of me when I was in the presence of him. But this night, when I looked into his eyes, something else lurked behind his orbs. Something that frightened me. I shrugged it off as me being in my feelings. It was my time of the month, hormones and all, you know.

  “Why do you ask, Tony?” I asked as I sipped from my glass.

  “Oh, no special reason,” he suddenly looked down at the half-eaten meal on his plate, braised lamb accompanied by a mixture of sautéed vegetables.

  “Are you sure?” I questioned him.

  “I’m sure,” he said, but still didn’t make eye contact with me.

  “I’ve been looking at travel brochures for our trip to Aruba next Summer. There are all sorts of exciting things we can do,” I said with excitement entering my voice.

  “About that,” he started to say but I cut him off, my excitement pouring in.

  “We can even book our flight now and make our hotel reservations. If we make the arrangements this early, we get a thirty percent discount on the airline of our choosing and a twenty-five percent discount on our hotel fee. Isn’t that great, honey?”

  “Just peachy,” he replied and shoved a piece of steamed broccoli into his mouth. “I forgot to tell you that I’ll be away on TriTek business for two whole weeks.”

  “Aw, really? What do they have you working on?” I asked, pouting.

  “It’s a special project that I can’t discuss at this point,” Tony said.

  “I’m going to miss you. If I didn’t have such an important project coming up with Happy Faces Happy Hearts Daycare, I’d come with you. But as it stands, the project will take Sierra and I at least a month to complete.”

  “I wouldn’t dare want to take you away from making that money,” he replied, just before his cell phone chirped, cutting off further conversation. He removed the cell from his clip at his waist and quickly stood up. “I really need to take this call; I’ll be right back.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Tony finally waltzed back to our table. “Dang, it took you a long time.”

  “Yeah, something’s cropped up at the office that I really need to take care of,” he muttered as he signaled for the waiter to take care of our bill. “Ready?” he asked. “I’ll drop you off at your apartment.

  “O-kay,” I said slowly. “But I thought we were going to spend the rest of the night together.”

  “I would love to, but you know how it is when work calls.”

  “You can still drop me off at your place, can’t you?”

  “That won’t be a good idea. I’ll probably be pulling an all-nighter,” he replied.

  “Too bad,” I sighed.

  He drove me home in relatively silence. He didn’t even walk me to the door or give me a good night kiss. I wondered, how the hell I didn’t pick up on his odd behavior and the amount of voice messages I left him on his cell that he never returned. He always contributed it to being busy at the office each and every time. To think back to that night, Tony seemed relieved when I told him about my project and he seemed in a hurry to get rid of me then and on many other occasions, if I were to really think about it. Hindsight is definitely twenty-twenty…Damn, damn, DAMN.

  Sighing, with disgust and self-pity, I look over at the clock as I try to clear my mind of my awful thoughts. I notice it’s only a little past midnight. It’s too late to go for a swim alone, to help take my mind off of what I can’t change.

  My mother always tells me, “Whitney, there is a lesson in everything that happens…good or bad.” With her words echoing in my thoughts, I decide to get out of bed, since I c
an’t sleep anyway. Flipping on the hallway light, I steer my way towards the kitchen on bare feet. I reach overhead into the cabinet to grab me a glass before moseying over to the refrigerator freezer. I grab me a couple of ice cubes to go into my glass and fill it with some tangy Florida orange juice from the fridge. The glass presses to my cracked, dry lips and I take a fortifying swallow. The tangy, sweet juice tastes good going down my throat. I take the glass to press against my cheek. The coolness of the glass feels deliciously calm against my hot flesh.

  I walk over to my kitchen window and look out at the moon-filled night. The stars gleam in the sky brightly. Accessing the beautiful night, I note it all. The windless night causes the green leaves on the big oak tree to be still as statues. The waves from the lake in the distance cause the still water to glint like shimmering tiny diamonds. If I was brave enough, I would go for a skinny dip under the midnight moon.

  The blaze of heat going up my spine is almost stifling. I set my glass down to remove the thin tank top I have on, along with my panties. I throw them onto the back of a barstool and turn on the tap to rinse my heated face with the cold water in the sink behind the bar area.

  A night like tonight makes me desire something, but I don’t know quite what it is. I have a good career and I make decent money, even though most of it is tied up in my business with my best friend. It still seems like something is missing. My heart isn’t quite whole. It feels like a piece of a puzzle is missing. When I find the missing piece, I’ll know what it is I’m missing. Even though I thought I loved Tony, I now realize that I’m better off without him. If he really loved me as he promised he did, he would have never broken my heart. He would have protected it as if it were his own.

  My emotions sway inside. There is an urge to let life be…whatever it’s going to be. I can’t be bitter or give up on love. Maybe, just maybe, my soulmate is waiting to find me. At least I hope he is…

  I shake my head of these fantastical thoughts and turn back towards my bedroom. I have to get some sleep if I’m going to be fit to start my day tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow these thoughts of incompleteness will have fled.

  Chapter 1

  HART

  I watch Whitney Martin from a distance. I stand behind a seven-foot-tall, potted plant as its green leaves shield me from view, but I have a clear-cut vision of her as she walks right pass me with another woman by her side. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but, from her body language and hand gestures, she seems to be in deep conversation with the woman as a frown mars her stunning face.

  Whitney was cute as a teenager but she has grown into a gorgeous woman. I wonder, will she remember me if I were to reveal myself to her? My heart pounds with swift acceleration, just like it did years ago when I was a pimpled-face, gawky adolescent. Her dark black, shoulder-length hair frames her face with what seems to be natural curls. They look soft and bouncy to the touch. I wonder what it would feel like to reach out and touch just one. I’m sure that will be a bad idea, so I tamp down my urges.

  Her dark-brown skin is glowing with luminosity and health. There’s a vibrant, lively, and adoringly irresistible aura around her. It would be hard to miss her; I noticed Whitney immediately when she walked into the building tonight.

  I revel in her appearance and how her dress is fitted and clings to every curve of her body. She has on a vivid blue dress that is medium in length with a poufy skirt, empire waistline and short, cropped sleeves. She looks like a beautiful goddess, standing there among mere humans.

  Lately, I have been feeling edgy and unhappy energy coursing through me from day to day. I feel inadequate, like something has been missing from my life. My accomplishments in life no longer give me the satisfaction that comes along with me making millions from my business as owner of Hart’s Premium Construction Company. My inheritance from my grandfather helped me build my own business from the ground up but my head for business is what helped me quadruple my wealth and run a successful business.

  Standing here spying on Whitney, I suddenly feel like a peeping Tom. I can’t stand behind this plant all night and track her like I’m some type of predator. It’s humiliating enough to think that someone might actually see me spying on a woman I’ve got a crush on. I ease as unsuspiciously as possible from behind my camouflage and walk right past her.

  “I should go get a drink,” I mumble when our eyes meet. There’s no recognition in her eyes, so I keep on walking. My heart plummets, because I sense she doesn’t even remember me. The sudden awareness of her not noticing me is a soundless emotion that sinks inside. How can she not remember me? I spent the majority of my high school years pining away for her. I wasn’t a jock back then or very popular with the girls. I may have been a nerd of sorts back then, one who kept to myself quite a bit.

  I was nixed from playing sports, because I used to have asthma and had to depend on an inhaler to breathe. But, I’ve done pretty well for myself. Time definitely has a way of changing things. I’m no longer the shy, pimply-faced teenager, nor do I depend on an inhaler to breathe. I overcame my inadequacies in life. The only thing I never overcame was my love for Whitney Martin.

  “Yeah, I should definitely get that drink,” I say heading straight to the bar.

  Chapter 2

  WHITNEY

  “OMG, Whit, check out the man over by the terrace doors that keeps watching you.”

  “Which one?”

  “The tall one. He’s about six foot three, with the dark black, perfectly groomed head of hair and neat facial hair,” Sierra says.

  I look over in the direction that my friend is pointing, across the high ceiling room. The man she’s talking about is standing in a group of three men chatting. They seem to be in a deep discussion, one raising his hand, the other two very attentive to what he is saying. I wonder what they’re discussing to have them as animated as they are.

  I take extra notice of the taller, muscular one in the group. His dinner jacket fits him to perfection and his eyes meet mine at the exact time I’m checking him out. He looks like a much younger version of Brad Pitt. He seems molded from a different cast than the other men he’s standing with. His skin looks as if it’s been intimately kissed by the sun. My eyes are spellbound as I take in this good-looking stranger.

  I hurriedly look away and Sierra elbows me in my waist. “Do you know him? He is so Fine, with a capital F,” she says, wiggling her brows comically.

  “I don’t think I know him,” I reply as I chance another glance over my shoulder at him. I take notice that he’s still staring at me. A tremble courses down my spine from the intense look in his greenish-grey eyes.

  “Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Sierra exclaims, her nails digging into my forearm.

  “My arm please! That really hurts, and stop being so loud.” I suddenly turn my head back around from the stranger to face Sierra. “Do I have anything in my teeth?” I grin wide so she can inspect my teeth right quick. I don’t want any of the spinach I ate earlier to be stuck between my teeth, while I’m greeting this hunk of a man. That’ll be too embarrassing.

  “No, you’re good,” she replies quickly.

  “Whitney Martin?” The deep gravelly voice says my name as smooth as brandy. Heat curls down my spine with every syllable.

  “Do you know me?” I twirl around on my stilettos and crane my neck upward to settle on his handsome face, since my head only stops at his chest. I use this time to inspect the fine, silky hairs on his muscular chest that can be seen from his open-neck striped burgundy and white dress shirt, as he sports a turned down eyelet collar. I notice by his tan that he must spend a lot of time in the sun. His teeth flash white when he gives me a smile.

  “You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

  He looks down at me with disappointment in his eyes and his shoulders visibly slump. A stray lock of his black hair falls over the arch of his thick eyebrow. I feel the instant need to reach out and brush it aside. His hair at the neckline of his shirt has the tendency to curl slightly,
I notice this in one full sweep as I check him out. I don’t know where the certain urge to run my fingers through his luxurious, silky-looking strands comes from, but I ball my hands into fists to keep myself from doing so.

  “I’m sorry, no, I honestly don’t. I don’t remember you at all,” I reply with regret in my voice. I really don’t understand how I could forget someone like him.

  “Damn, my heart is truly broken,” he replies bringing his left hand across his chest. He has a teasing glint in his eyes and a sexy smirk on his lips. I notice his bottom lip is slightly thicker than his top lip, which makes them sexy and kissable.

  “I will remember you if you want me too,” Sierra says with a giggle.

  I look over at her and give her a warning look. The look in my eyes tell her to back off…this one is mine.

  The man’s smile grows wider from Sierra’s words. “I’m Hart Strong.” He stretches out his hand towards me with his introduction. I place my hand in his and note he’s not wearing a wedding band. “You and I went to Fulton Magna High School together. I was the geeky nerd with the asthma condition that the other kids made fun of. I sat behind you in Mrs. Jones third period English class.”

  “Hart Strong? Of course, I remember you now! Oh my God, you have changed. I would’ve never recognized you, if you hadn’t reintroduced yourself. It’s great to see you again,” I say, suddenly feeling a warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

  “I’m Sierra Washington, Whitney’s best friend,” Sierra cuts in.

  Looking into Hart’s charismatic eyes, I forget my friend is standing by my side. I also realize that Hart is still holding on to my hand, just as he releases it to take Sierra’s hand in his.

  “Nice to meet you, Sierra.” He gives her hand a firm shake before releasing it.

  “So, what are you doing these days, Hart?” I ask in an effort to bring his attention back on me.

 

‹ Prev