It's in the Rhythm

by Sammie Ward

  Garrett spread a blanket beneath a shady tree and unloaded the basket’s contents. He was the first to break the silence between them.

  “You looked surprised to see me.” He spread merlot cheddar cheese on a sesame cracker and handed it to her.

  “I was.” She took a bite of the cracker. “After I ran out of the club last night, I thought I’d be the last person you wanted to speak to.”

  He shrugged. “I was hurt that you shot me down after I bared my soul.”

  “I’m sorry, Garrett. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to be honest.”

  Garrett raised a hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled around a mouthful of cheese and crackers. “I’m still your friend.”

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  “How can I be mad at you for being honest?” But I’m going to do everything I can to change your mind, he thought to himself.

  His quick agreement about the platonic nature of their relationship helped her realize that her decision to be only friends was the right one.

  Three hours later, they stood outside her door.

  “I enjoyed the picnic, Garrett.”

  “So did I.”

  Silence hung between them.

  “I’m performing Friday night at Cadence,” Garrett said. He was trying his best to keep his feelings in check when all he wanted to do was take Trinity in his arms and kiss her. He watched as she ran her tongue over her lips. He groaned inwardly.

  She smiled softly. “What time?”

  “I go on at nine.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. “You will see me before Friday.” He turned and walked away before she had a chance to answer.

  Trinity closed the door and leaned her back against it. She closed her eyes.

  “Being friends is going to be tough,” she murmured.

  * * *

  Garrett was true to his word, and they spent the next three days together. Though she had set the rules, it was difficult for Trinity to pretend that she didn’t notice the way he looked, dressed, and smelled. She hated pretending his smile and the tone of his voice didn’t make her heart pound.

  On Wednesday, Garrett stopped by. He helped her prepare dinner. After dinner, she didn’t like maintaining the pretense that heat didn’t wash over her while they were watching television. When he left, he’d given her a kiss on her forehead. She remembered lying in bed, reliving their last real kiss, and wondering if Garrett would ever kiss her like that again.

  On Thursday, he had shown up with two box tickets to watch the Baltimore Orioles play. After leaving the game, they had gone for a walk along the harbor, and then he escorted her home, promising to pick her up for the show at Cadence.

  Friday night arrived, and the club was filled to capacity. Some disappointed would-be patrons had to be turned away. Cadence had only advertised Garrett’s appearance for a couple of days, but from the turnout you would have thought it was longer.

  When Garrett took the stage he thanked the fans for their support, and then Gerald and Victor Sexton for having him. Taking his seat at the piano, Garrett, backed by a bass and drums, sang songs from his first two CDs, and the first single from his upcoming CD. He brought the house to a frenzy, leaving them yelling for more. He didn’t disappoint, giving them a lengthy encore.

  Forty-five minutes later, he left the stage feeling on top of the world. The patrons were cheering. He spotted Trinity standing backstage. She moved toward him with a wide-eyed expression.

  “Garrett, you were fantastic,” she said and planted a kiss on his lips.

  Garrett was caught off guard by the gesture, but pleased. “Thank you. So was that kiss.”

  She hit him on the arm. “Garrett…” she teased.

  He searched her beautiful face. “Can I have another one? You know, an encore.”

  Trinity stepped into his embrace. She drew his face to hers, sighing as their lips slowly met. She was floating on a soft, wispy cloud.

  Someone cleared their throat and Garrett and Trinity broke their kiss. Standing next to them was a well-dressed white man, his handsome face split in a wide grin. He looked to be in his mid-forties.

  “Collin?” Garrett said, with a stunned expression on his face. “What brings you here?”

  “I heard about your performance,” Collin answered. “I flew in to catch it. I never miss your performances.”

  Garrett’s gaze followed Collin’s to Trinity. He interlocked his fingers with Trinity’s in a possessive move.

  “Collin Schwartz, I’d like you to meet Trinity Blake. Trinity, Collin Schwartz. Collin is my agent-slash-business manager. He’s responsible for me being where I am today.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Collin,” Trinity said with a smile.

  “Same here,” Collin said.

  “Trinity and I are old friends,” Garrett said. “We sang in my father’s choir together.”

  “Do you sing professionally?” Collin asked.

  Trinity cast a glance to Garrett, and then refocused to Collin. “No, I’m a schoolteacher.”

  “I see,” Collin answered abruptly, then turned to Garrett. “We need to talk.”

  “Sure. Give me a minute.”

  Collin gave them one last glance before walking out of earshot.

  Garrett embraced Trinity and planted another soft kiss on her lips.

  “Good show,” Victor said, grinning at the couple. He nodded at Garrett and headed to his office.

  “Wait for me?” Garrett asked. “I’m going to see what’s up with Collin.” It was unusual for him to show up the way he did. Something was going on.

  Trinity nodded. Standing on tiptoe, she gave him another soft kiss.

  Garrett watched her hips as she sashayed toward the main area of the club.

  “What’s going on between you two?” Collin asked as soon as Trinity was out of earshot.

  “That’s none of your business, Collin.”

  “You are my business, Garrett.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Garrett snapped.

  “No, your vacation is over next week. You have additional appearances and interviews coming up to promote the new CD. I wanted to go over them with you.”

  “You could have called me on the phone.”

  “I tried. Your cell phone is conveniently turned off. Why?”

  After Imani phoned him the other night, Garrett no longer carried the cellular phone. It was tucked away in the top dresser drawer. He received Collin’s messages, but none were important enough to interrupt his vacation. Trinity had his full attention.

  “Is she the reason?”

  Garrett didn’t answer.

  “What about Imani?” Collin asked. “I thought you were on again.”

  “Collin, my personal life is none of your business,” Garrett said in a calm voice. “I may stay another week or two.”

  The color drained from Collin’s face. Garrett thought he was going to pass out. “What are you talking about? You can’t do that. Your first appearances and interviews are already booked.”

  “You’ll have to reschedule them.”

  “Wait a minute, Garrett. My reputation and yours are on the line. I can’t cancel on a whim. I just confirmed the dates.”

  “Artists cancel all the time,” Garrett argued. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Not you. You have a reputation for being reliable. So do I. I won’t see it ruined because you’re chasing a piece of tail.”

  Garrett stepped closer to Collin, and he could see fear in Collin’s eyes. He tried to compose himself. “I’ve already warned you about being in my business. I’ve given you my answer. You reschedule, do whatever you have to do to make it work.” He walked past Collin in search of Trinity.

  When Garrett emerged, a group of autograph-seekers met him at the entrance to the club, and he happily spent a few minutes signing autographs and posing for pictures.

  As he was finishing up, he spotted Trinity sitting at the
bar. He took in her long legs, one crossed over the other, as she lifted the glass to her lips. She tipped her head back and swallowed. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her profile, and a delightful tremor of arousal ran through him.

  As he headed in her direction, Lil’ Jon’s “Get Low” filled the club. A large number of people crowded the dance floor, singing, dancing, and waving their hands in the air.

  Trinity smiled when she looked up and saw Garrett coming toward her. She guessed the meeting with Collin went well. She still couldn’t believe she kissed him the way she did. Call it temporary insanity or being caught up in the moment. No matter what she called it, she enjoyed it, and she was looking forward to more of it.

  When he reached her, the DJ was playing Usher’s “Yeah.”

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

  She nodded, set her glass down, and placed her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor.

  Garrett’s body moved with ease to the beat. Watching him dance, she couldn’t help but wonder if he moved so smoothly in bed. As the music swirled around her, Garrett moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. Their dance was seductive, their bodies speaking a forbidden language only they understood.

  Trinity leaned back against the length of his body, then reached up and gently touched the side of his face. He responded by kissing the palm of her hand.

  The music slowed down and Garrett turned her around in his arms until they faced each other.

  She fit perfectly in his embrace, her head resting on his chest as they slow danced. Although the music was playing, she could easily hear his heart beating. She followed his steps, her thoughts running rampant. Was it possible that she was wrong in insisting that they remain friends? Her heart was telling her that she was.

  Waves of longing and desire took over her body. “Let’s go to my place,” she said softly.

  Garrett kissed her. “You get no argument from me.” He took her hand and headed for the exit.

  * * *

  The door closed and doubts assailed Trinity. She wanted to be with Garrett in the worst way. She enjoyed kissing him. Garrett was the best kisser she’d ever known. His lips were persuasive. Kissing him could lead to other things—things she wanted to share with her husband, within the bonds of marriage.

  Garrett stood watching her. She was nervous. He figured she was having second thoughts. He understood. She was a beautiful and desirable woman. No matter how long it took, he’d wait.

  “We don’t have to do anything.”

  “I’m acting like a silly schoolgirl.”

  Garrett lifted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. “No, you’re not.”

  She had to tell him how she felt about sex. Garrett was a hot-blooded male with a strong sexual appetite. She owed him the truth.

  She cleared her throat. “I have something to tell you.”

  “Tell me later.” Slowly, Garrett pulled her into his arms, bending his head for a kiss.

  She was a goner. Closing her eyes, she sighed and leaned into him.

  Garrett took his time tasting and probing her mouth, nipping like she was a piece of candy.

  One arm locked around her waist, he deepened the kiss, taking her on a slow, agonizing ride into passion, leaving her burning with fire as he backed her against the wall.

  Trinity felt Garrett’s hardness against her. The kiss continued, hotter, hungrier, until Garrett’s breathing was ragged. He ran his hands over her body and her emotions swirled and skidded as she melted against him.

  Trinity moaned, sliding her arms around his neck. She couldn’t get enough of him.

  Garrett held her hips, molding her softness against his rigid hardness. She whimpered as he began to move against her with the same rhythm as his tongue inside her mouth.

  Her body was on fire. She wanted Garrett. She wanted him now. She wanted his hands on her body, her hands on his.

  He must have felt the same. He reached up and closed a hand over her breast. She heard him whimper in frustration. His hand moved under her dress to skim her thighs, then moved inside her panties, touching her treasure.

  “Garrett, wait.”

  His eyes flew open and he stared into Trinity’s eyes. She could see him fighting for control.

  “I’m sorry, Trinity. I lost my head.”

  “I want to wait,” she stammered.

  “You have the right to wait until you feel comfortable.” His mouth recaptured hers.

  Here goes, she thought. “That’s not what I mean, Garrett.”

  Garrett lifted his head, giving her his undivided attention. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I want to wait until I’m married. The next man I lay down with will be my husband.”

  Garrett stepped back.

  Trinity stared into his face, unable to read his expression.

  “Garrett, say something,” she prompted. She hated not knowing what he was thinking. In the past, she was able to read him. At the moment, he was doing a good job of hiding his emotions.

  “It’s okay,” he said at last. “Just give me a minute to…adjust.”

  “You’re not angry?” she asked softly.

  He frowned. “Why should I be?”

  “I gave you the impression we were going to make love.” She made a flip-flop motion with her hands.

  “I admit I didn’t expect to hear this from you after we…” he cleared his throat, “…almost made love.”

  “I had to tell you how I feel.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.”

  “It’s not modern thinking today, but it’s how I feel.”

  He took a deep breath. “No, it isn’t.” He had to accept the fact he wasn’t going to make love to her tonight, or any night. “I have to accept it.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  Trinity realized this was hard on Garrett. She asked him to bring her home, giving him the impression they were going to make love. He wanted her. She wanted him. But she wanted more.

  Men had a tendency to think with the lower part of their anatomy, building relationships based on how the women performed in bed. Women did it, too, but the majority of women thought with their hearts. At the moment, hers was beating irregularly because she didn’t know where she stood with Garrett.

  “Is that the only thing you want from me? Sex?”

  Garrett’s eyes widened. He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you asked me that. You know me better than that.”

  “Do I know you?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m sure Imani will be more than willing to give you what you can’t get from me.”

  Garrett looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. He stepped closer, searching her face for an explanation.

  “Where did that come from? Earlier, when we were in the club, you weren’t thinking about Imani. When you invited me home, kissing me, touching me, letting me touch you, you weren’t thinking about Imani. Were you?”

  Before she had a chance to answer, Garrett silenced her with a wave of his hand.

  “No, you weren’t. This is not about Imani, and you know it.” He raised her chin to look at him. “I respect you wanting to wait until marriage. But I don’t appreciate you trying to deny that you didn’t want me tonight as much as I wanted you.” He pressed his lips to hers. “And it wasn’t as a friend.”

  Chapter 6

  Garrett drove away from Trinity’s home, still reeling from what happened between them. One minute he was kissing and caressing her. The next she was saying that she was saving herself for her husband. He didn’t have a problem with her decision to abstain. He just wished she’d informed him before she allowed them to get so worked up.

  He admired her for wanting to save herself for marriage. Lord knows he heard about fornication. His father preached against it on numerous occasions. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He
hadn’t been obedient to the scripture, and he wished Trinity hadn’t either.

  Disappointed, Garrett didn’t feel like going home and found himself in front of his father’s church. He pulled into the almost empty parking lot.

  A twenty-four-hour ministry, the James Martindale AME Church in Columbia, Maryland, had been in existence for over sixty years and was founded by his great-grandfather, James Martindale. It had a congregation of more than four thousand members. The church had various social ventures, four subsidiary corporations, church administration offices, schools, over forty ministries, and several hundred dedicated people who made up its workforce. Many staff members worked to meet the needs of the community.

  Strolling into the building, Garrett headed for the piano. He sat down and began playing nothing in particular. Music always calmed his spirit when he was troubled.

  “Yeah,” he crooned. “Oh, happy day.”

  “Oh Happy Day” was the first song he’d learned as a child. He was four years old and begged his father to let him sing a solo for the Easter program. His father gave in, and Garrett received a standing ovation.

  Garrett wasn’t nervous at all about singing in front of the congregation; he knew he belonged on stage. His father taught him to play the drums, guitar, and piano. That talent was instrumental in his becoming the youngest music director in the area. He formed the Youth and Praise Choir. The choir sang songs of praise in various styles of music, including traditional, gospel, and contemporary.

  “I thought I heard someone out here,” Pastor Martindale said, standing at the edge of the round stage.

  “I didn’t know you were here. I figured you had already gone home.”

  Pastor Martindale, a tall, slim man, could easily pass for a man in his late thirties instead of his forty-seven years. “Then you wouldn’t have to talk to me. Is that it?”

  Here we go again, Garrett thought. “No, Dad, that wasn’t it.”

  “You’ve been walking around me since you been home,” Pastor Martindale said.

  “Just trying to keep the peace.”

  “I don’t like feeling uncomfortable in my own home.”

  Garrett stopped playing the piano. He stood. “Would you like for me to leave?”

  “Did I say that?”