Creed (The Marquette Family Book One)

by Lockwood, Tressie

  “Spill it.” Both Creed and Marisa wanted to rob her of peace. Why they had to offer cryptic hints about needing to talk, she didn’t know, but she was over it already.

  “I…” Marisa swallowed.

  Shada did her best to wait in silence. Patience didn’t enter into the equation.

  Marisa rubbed her arms. She wore a heavy winter nightie, even though the temperature outside was warm, and beneath it, Shada guessed, her sister wore socks.

  “I had sex,” she blurted.

  Shada blinked at her. Now that she could respond, she had nothing.

  “You’re not saying anything, Shada.” Marisa twisted her hands. Why did she come off looking like a teenager confessing to her mother about being sexually active?

  Like a mother, Shada felt teary, but she held it in. “I’m not sure what to say,” she admitted. “When? Last night?”

  “No, days ago, when—”

  “When you collapsed.” Shada ground her teeth. The rage she had felt against Damen resurfaced.

  Marisa must have sensed it. She reached out to Shada and grasped her hands. “Don’t be mad, Shada. Just listen, okay? Can you do that?”

  Shada rolled her eyes. “Fine, go ahead.”

  Marisa sat back. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  “We always tell each other the truth.”

  “I know.” Guilt colored the eyes Shada loved more than any others. “I’m sorry. Damen and I did go to the bowling alley, but then we realized I can’t bowl. We had a good laugh, and he asked me what I wanted to do.”

  “Then he dragged you to his apartment?”

  Marisa frowned at Shada, and Shada fell silent. She had promised to listen.

  “I suggested we go to his place.”

  Shada refused to believe her.

  “I did, Shada. I knew I could seduce him.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Marisa’s face fell. “Are you saying a man wouldn’t want me?”

  “Of course not, sis. You’re beautiful. Plenty would. I’m just saying it’s hard to believe you would set out to get a man in bed.”

  Marisa grinned, appearing proud of herself. “Well, I did. He was hesitant at first, but I was determined.”

  “Oh, Marisa.”

  “I don’t regret it, Shada. I lost my virginity. I’m finally a woman.”

  Shada couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve been a woman for years now.”

  “Agewise, but now I’ve had my rite of passage to lose my virginity.”

  “Isn’t that more of a male thing?”

  “It’s for everyone,” she declared and laughed.

  She appeared more relaxed now that she had shared her secret. Shada could at least be satisfied with that. Marisa did seem more womanly right then, but it could be all in Shada’s head.

  “He was gentle and considerate, and now that I’ve had time to rest, I can look back at it with fond memories.”

  Shada snorted. “Fond, huh? I don’t remember my first time being anything to describe with that word.”

  Marisa raised her chin, her eyebrows arched in superiority. “That’s because I had mine with a man. You did it with a fumbling boy.”

  “Touché.” Shada hugged her. “I just don’t like you getting hurt, sis.”

  Marisa gave her a light squeeze and leaned back. “I know, but I wanted to do at least one thing all women do, something normal, before I die.”

  A sharp pain arrowed through Shada. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be around a long time.”

  “Do you understand how I feel, Shada?”

  “Of course.”

  And she did. Everyone had desires, and Marisa’s sickness didn’t lessen hers for intimacy and the attentions of a man. Shada had always protected her sister, but most of the men Marisa had ever met either hightailed it when they found out she was sickly, or tried to take advantage of her. Shada ran off the losers, but she had failed to keep Damen away. The more she thought about what they had done, the more she began to think maybe it was good that Marisa had had the experience and that she didn’t regret it.

  That didn’t mean Shada wouldn’t skin him when she saw him. She had enjoyed the bruise she left on his face and suffered with satisfaction the swollen hand she’d got from clocking him.

  Shada stood up. “I have a morning meeting, so we better get moving. In fact, I’m probably going to be late.”

  “I’m sorry for keeping you.”

  Shada walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll always come first.” She froze and then leaned around the door to glare at Marisa. “You used protection, didn’t you?”

  Marisa blushed. Now the woman had the nerve to show embarrassment. “Yes, we did.”

  “Good. No babies for us.”

  * * * *

  Shada sat across from Creed, holding a coffee between her hands. She wasn’t a big fan of coffee unless she had made the concoction herself, sweetening it and adding flavors that all but disguised the coffee taste. Pointless, so she didn’t drink it often, except on days like today when she had had little sleep. The caffeine did nothing to calm her nerves, as if it could. Instead, they were jangled into a tight mess, and she wished to be anywhere other than across from the man who brought her body alive in ways she had only imagined. Things might be about to get a lot more complicated. And what’s complicated for me? She had no idea what she wanted him to say or what she hoped he wouldn’t say.

  Unlike Marisa earlier, Creed seemed to be relaxed. His crisp white shirt lay open at the throat, giving her a glimpse of his smooth, hairless chest. She liked that about him and recalled the feeling of his hot, taut skin beneath her fingers. No one could deny she was attracted to him. At least I haven’t fallen in love with him.

  She started at the thought and shifted in her seat. A gulp of coffee burned her tongue, and she frowned. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

  “First, I want to be straight with you,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I want you in my bed regularly.”

  She licked her lips, her body growing hot. “Really?” Going for casual wasn’t working.

  “Yes, really. We’re good together. You admit that, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m not opposed to it.”

  He grinned, amused. “Good. I don’t often meet a woman who likes my…darker side.”

  Shada smirked at him. “Darker, huh?” She leaned forward. “Are you into the BDSM lifestyle?”

  His eyes widened, and he laughed. “No, nothing like that. Wait, are you?”

  “No.” She glanced around to see if they were being overheard. Most of the café’s patrons were busy in conversations of their own or standing in line to place their order before they rushed back to work. “I like what you do to me. I like being spanked, and I like it rough. That’s as far as I’ve ever gone, and I don’t fantasize about more.”

  He nodded. “I don’t meet a woman often who can take me like that.” His gaze roved over what he could see of her body, and he lingered on her breasts. Shada was proud of them, their size and how they seemed to mesmerize Creed until he couldn’t stop touching them. While she loved being dominated during sex with him, his weakness for her breasts gave her a sense of power she didn’t mind.

  “I have the same problem,” she admitted. “You’d be surprised at how hard it is to find a man strong enough to handle me.”

  “Hmm.” Her words seemed to please him. “We’re in synch in that regard. So if I asked you to be my long-term lover, you would agree.”

  The words weren’t a question, but she nodded anyway.

  “However, I have another concern.”

  The butterflies were back. “What do you mean?”

  “I need an heir.”

  She blinked at him. “Come again?”

  “I want a child, someone I can leave my share of the corporation to.”

  Shada’s mouth fell open. She had gone over various scenarios of what he might want to talk to her abou
t, and she expected a discussion on them continuing as lovers. Never this. “A baby?”

  “Yes, I want a baby.”

  Fear closed her throat, and she pushed the coffee away lest she choke on it with the next sip. “I’m not having your baby, Creed.”

  Surprise registered on his handsome face. She didn’t know if it had to do with her presumption that he was asking her to have his baby, or if he didn’t expect her to deny him.

  “I wasn’t asking you to have my baby, Shada.”

  “Well, why are you telling me about it?” she snapped.

  He took her hand, but she jerked out of his hold.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” He spread his hands in supplication. “I meant, I wouldn’t presume to think you were open to it.”

  She calmed down, and her hurt feelings settled. Getting hurt over the misunderstanding in the first place made no sense.

  “I think I’m handling this wrong.”

  She couldn’t help him and just sat waiting for him to choose his approach.

  “First, tell me why you don’t want children.”

  She shifted in her seat and glanced out the window. He was asking a question she wasn’t comfortable getting into. “Not everyone wants children.”

  “Shada.” He touched her hand. This time she didn’t pull away. “If we’re going to continue, we have to be honest with one another.”

  Continue what? she wondered. “When I was thirteen, my parents died in a car wreck. I was at school, and I remember what it felt like when the school counselor came personally to my classroom to get me. We walked together on the school grounds, just talking about my life and family. I thought it was odd, but hell, I was in math at the time and was glad to get out of there. After a while, we came back inside, and I thought she was going to let me return to class, but she took me into her office. That’s when she told me the news that destroyed my world.”

  Creed laced his fingers with hers, and she drew from his strength. “I’m sorry, baby.”

  Why did it ache so good when he called her baby?

  “What happened then?” he coaxed.

  “I went into foster care, because I didn’t have any other family. I was an only child, a spoiled only child, who was close to my parents. They were like my best friends, and they were gone. I thought I would die, and I had nothing to live for.”

  His grip tightened on hers.

  “Then I met Marisa. She was eight, sickly, and her parents neglected her. She was so smart and happy, despite her circumstances. It got on my last nerve.” Shada laughed. “I started taking care of her just because it seemed wrong not to. Right away, she started calling me her sister, and I appeased her by getting into the habit of calling her sis. Eventually, I loved her as much as I had loved my parents. So you see I don’t want children.”

  He frowned. “People can love more than one person, Shada.”

  She sputtered, amused, and then grew serious. “I know that. I meant… I can’t—I won’t—expose a child to the kind of pain I experienced back then. If something were to happen to me when he is young, he’ll be all alone. The thought of it kills me inside. I just can’t do it.”

  “Shada.”

  “I know my reason is weird, and it makes no sense.”

  “No, I respect your decision and understand it, even if I don’t agree. You also had the feeling reinforced by seeing what Marisa went through.”

  She had thought of that too, like what would have happened to Marisa if she had never come to their household, or if Marisa was a foster child. There were plenty of nightmarish experiences in the world, and maybe it wasn’t logical to think the same thing that happened to her parents could happen to her. Yet knowing the truth had never changed her decision. She never wanted to get married or to have children. She never wanted to fall in love at all.

  “So you’re not asking me to have your baby. What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I want you to keep seeing me.”

  She blinked at him. “I know you aren’t asking me to cheat on your wife with you, because that will get you a black eye to match your brother’s chin.”

  He chuckled. “Damen will never live that one down. No, I’m not asking you to commit adultery. I don’t plan on getting married either.”

  She gasped. “In vitro?”

  He hesitated. “No, I don’t want to trust my son or daughter to a lab. I want to find someone to have the baby, someone I can get to know. Ideally, she would be involved in the baby’s life as his mother.”

  Shada shook her head. This was the way rich people thought? She didn’t get it, but like he didn’t judge her, she wouldn’t judge him. Creed had a right to do what he wanted with his life, and from what she knew, he was a good man. He loved his brothers. He would probably be a good father. The thought threw her, and she pushed it away.

  “Shada, I’m asking if you will consider continuing to be with me, if I’m honest with you and with the mother of my child. I won’t have a relationship with her. I’ll get her pregnant, but you alone will share my bed for our mutual pleasure.”

  His proposal was the most unorthodox thing she had ever heard. On one hand, she wanted to just cuss him out and storm from the café. On the other, neither of them were looking for a real relationship or love, so what harm would it do? Then again, while Shada was sure he could find a woman to agree to his terms, there was no telling if she’d secretly think she could keep him. Not to mention all the other kinds of baby-mama drama that could develop in such a situation.

  “I don’t know. It seems risky,” she said. “Not much for me, but a lot for you, because of who you are.”

  He agreed. “True. I can’t say I’ve thought this all the way through yet. What I do know is I want you. I’m not willing to give you up yet.”

  Warmth spread through her system despite the matter-of-fact way he said the words. “Can I think about it?”

  “You can.”

  “Good. Well, I have to go. I’ll see you later at the restaurant.”

  She fled, shocked, confused, even excited for some stupid reason. Myriad thoughts swirled through her head, foremost of all being Creed’s long-term lover and having exclusive rights to his body. Well, not exclusive, and there’s the problem!

  Chapter Ten

  Shada strode along the walk with a lazy step. From the moment she passed through the arch into the French Market, the oldest market in the United States, her intention of getting in and out quickly faded away. Over the last few days, she had thought about what she and Creed discussed, but she still couldn’t pin down her emotions and decide what was best for her. Granted, she wanted to be with him, but looking the other way while he got another woman pregnant didn’t feel right. She still managed to feel used and a little betrayed.

  Walking under the covered pavilion where she had bought fresh produce plenty of times for the restaurant and for home, she lost herself as she stopped by the booths where she could peruse locally crafted jewelry. She made sure to pick up authentic New Orleans spices, again for home and the restaurant, and stopped to listen to a live duo. One man played drums, and another held an odd instrument she had never seen before. Looking like a giant guitar but held in an awkward position at the front of the man’s body, the instrument produced music reminiscent of steel drums. Of course, that was weird, considering he plucked strings. Either way, she loved the tone and melody, as it soothed her spirit.

  Shada must have had a questioning look on her face, because a woman with a friendly smile walked over to her. “It’s called a kora,” she explained, pointing toward the instrument Shada had wondered about. “A West African version of the harp and guitar.”

  “Wow, I had no idea,” Shada said. “He plays it well, and the music it makes is incredible.”

  “I think so too.” The woman went on to share a few more tidbits of trivia with Shada, and then she drifted away. Learning about the instrument, the history behind it, and the woman’s friendliness were further reasons to love Ne
w Orleans.

  Farther on, she stopped cold, staring at the man before her. She hadn’t seen Damen since shortly after she had punched him, but here he stood at the French Market with a little girl. Neither had spotted Shada yet.

  About seven, with dark hair down her back and almost black eyes, the girl pointed at a doll wearing a Mardi Gras mask. “Get me that, Daddy.”

  Shada started. Daddy? No one had said he had a child, and they had all worked together for a few months now. She hadn’t seen the girl either. Granted, Damen flew back to New York regularly, just like Creed and Stefan, but still, he lived in New Orleans more often than not.

  “Nita, I’ve bought you three already, and one is similar to that one. Plus you have a room full of dolls at your mom’s house.”

  “So what?” The little girl’s voice rose. “I want that one. You said you would buy me whatever I want. That’s what I want, so get it for me. Now, Daddy, now!”

  Oh no she didn’t just stomp her feet and take that kind of tone with her father.

  Shada waited for Damen to spank her ass or at least smack her lips for speaking to him that way.

  “Fine, this is the last one,” he said with mild annoyance. “I mean it, Nita.”

  “‘I mean it?’ Are you serious?” Shada tried to bite her tongue, but it was too late. Both Damen and Nita turned to her. She strode over to them. “You’re going to let your daughter talk to you like that?”

  Damen cast her a wary glance. She didn’t blame him. Last time, she’d belted him. While she knew nothing about kids, she wouldn’t humiliate him like that in front of his daughter.

  Nita looked up at her, and Shada caught a glimpse of Marquette in the cheekbones and jaw. That was all, because it was obvious Nita was mixed. She looked Mexican, but with paler skin. “Do you know her, Daddy?”

  “Hello, Shada,” he said. “Yes, we work together. Nita, this is Shada. Shada, my daughter, Nita.”

  “I didn’t know you had a child.”

  “She’s been with her mother for the summer.”

  His words took her by surprise. Nita lived with Damen full time? “Let me guess. She comes back giving you attitude after every visit?” she asked.