Intimate Intuition

by Audrey Carlan

  I drop my mouth open and then close it in awe of her speed.

  Dara makes that cute little snort-laugh before leaning back and clapping wildly. “Got ya!” she boasts.

  I laugh along with her. She’s beautiful all the time, but when she laughs, a glow sets up around her, making it almost hard to take in her beauty. Blinding. Positively blinding beauty. That’s what Dara exudes when she laughs.

  “All right, crazy, tell me more about you. Now that you know a little bit more about my situation, I want to know more about you.” I pick up a cookie and bite down into it. It’s softer than it looks, but the instant the mixture of powdered sugar and vanilla hits my tongue, I’m closing my eyes and moaning around the heaven-sent combination blessing my mouth.

  When I open my eyes, Dara is sipping her latte and smirking. “Best cookie ever?”

  “Fuck yes!” I groan and take another delicious bite.

  “Told you. I’ll take on any challenge. Including you, Mr. McKnight,” she warns, and for some reason, I think she’s referring to more than making excellent cookies.

  I point the cookie at her. “You. More info. Go.”

  She chuckles. “Not much to say. Graduated top of my class in high school. Got scholarships to Berkeley, but I didn’t want to go. The bakery is my calling. Just like my parents. I’ve known since the day they brought me home when I was eight, I’d do anything to make them proud. Baking came naturally. The universe provided me the perfect family. I spend my days giving back that gift, only to others.”

  The phrase since the day they brought me home when I was eight sticks out in my mind like a flashing light. “You’re adopted?”

  Dara nods excitedly, not at all sad or uncomfortable about where the conversation is headed.

  “When you were eight?” I confirm.

  “Yeah. They picked me out of a lineup at a girls’ home for orphans. Before that, I spent time bouncing around foster homes. Then my mother, Vanessa Jackson, looked at me, and something clicked between us. You’d never know I was adopted. They have treated me like nothing other than their very own blood my whole life. I hit the jackpot of parents. And the bakery chain and I are their legacy. I’m happy to raise that legacy up and one day share it with my own family.”

  I set down the cookie and plant my elbow on the table, my head in my palm. “Amazing. You seem so well-adjusted.”

  She grins. “Because I am, silly. And I have them to thank for it. What about you? Besides the production company, tell me about your life.”

  Before I can filter my words, I blurt out, “I have no life.”

  Her eyes narrow, and she places her warm palm on my forearm. “Everyone has someone, something to give them purpose and reason.”

  I let out a long sigh. “My family needs me at the helm of Knight & Day Productions since my father passed two years ago. Only a year after my wife.”

  Dara scoots closer and places her hand on my thigh. “My goodness, that’s a lot of loss to manage. What I gather from what you’re saying is you’ve been putting the pieces back together. Am I right?”

  Instead of responding, I shrug. I can’t tell this incredible woman I haven’t done that. Not even close. She’d be ashamed. Hell, I’m ashamed, and more importantly, Sarah would be ashamed.

  Dara squeezes my thigh, her gaze searing through mine, probably expecting me to share the way she did. I just can’t. My entire body heats up as feelings I have long since forgotten rush to the surface like a bullet train, ready to roll. They clog my chest, closing around my throat, making the decadent pastries I just ate feel like lumps of coal in my gut.

  Abruptly, I stand and back away from her touch, brushing her hand off my thigh. “Thank you, uh, for the coffee and treats.” I swallow down the anxiety and fear threatening my every nerve ending so I can get out what I need to say, what she has to hear. “You have a gift, Dara. A beautiful gift. More than you know. I appreciate you sharing it with me.”

  Her hand shoots out and grabs mine, and the sizzle of magnetism hits like a jolt of electricity. I shake off her hand.

  “I’m not the right man for you. I gotta go.”

  Without allowing her to say a word, because even one utterance from her pretty pink lips would have me begging for another taste, I bail.

  Bailing is all I’m good at anymore. Dara doesn’t deserve a fucked-up man like me messing with her head and screwing up her perfect life. She’s got everything she needs right here in this bakery. A mother and father who love her and a doting man behind the counter who’s obviously in love with her.

  A handful of nights between the sheets are all I’m willing to offer, and even I know that’s pathetic.

  While I sat there, though, listening to her share her life, her joy at having a family who chose her over loneliness…it hit me. I will never be the man for her. I’ll never be able to give that to her. I’m emotionally unavailable. The part of me that could share and give of himself to a woman died the day my wife and daughter died.

  Chapter Seven

  The third eye is where your conscience lives. Here, an individual not only can sense and see what’s going on but evaluate its true meaning. Ethics and a sense of justice originate from this chakra.

  DARA

  I’m not the right man for you.

  His last words clang around my mind as I sit in utter shock, my gaze still locked on the bakery’s glass doors. He walked out on me. We were having a nice time; there was even some sexual tension buzzing around our bodies, as though we both wanted more. Much more.

  I think about the intensity of his kisses in the studio and on the street. The sensual way he swirled his tongue around my fingers as I fed him. He was into me. All in. And then…nothing.

  Worse, I watched it happen in living color. Literally. His aura changed so fast it was like watching a mood ring change color when different people put it on, one after the other.

  Red…sexual desire.

  Orange…excitement.

  Shades of green…insecurity.

  Shades of blue…fear of speaking the truth.

  Indigo…deep feeling.

  Black…grief.

  All of it speaking to a man who’s confused. He seems down-to-earth, pleasant, easygoing, and then when something stirs his feelings, he doesn’t know how to handle it. He shuts down. Closes off to me and those around him. I don’t get it.

  I’m dumfounded, trying to figure out what I did wrong.

  While I sit there staring, Ricardo comes over, making a big show of resting his ass in the chair Silas vacated.

  “Two thousand five hundred sixty-one dollars and some change.” He grins wickedly.

  I frown, trying to understand what he’s talking about but mostly just stare at him blankly.

  “The amount of money in my bank account.” His chest puffs up with pride. “Told you that boy would be back. Now give me all the deets. He ran off so quick I didn’t even have a chance to make up a reason to come over to your table and introduce myself personally.” Ricardo’s hopeful tone and smile make my heart sink.

  “He’s gone, Ricky. I think this time for good.” I don’t even recognize the sorrow and sadness in my own voice. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Worse because I know what it means for our child.

  Silas isn’t going to be capable of being a part of the baby’s life if he is unable to be near me. I can’t imagine what it feels like to go through the tumultuous myriad of emotions the way he did when he sat with me. It was like one of those kaleidoscopes. Peer through the looking glass, spin the base, and see all of the colors change, weaving into one another. Only his colors didn’t provide beautiful new images to gawk at. His were like watching a man being shot in slow motion. One second he’s alive and full of life, the next, he hears the shot—shock, fear, and surprise on his face—and then the bullet strikes. That’s when his face shows recognition of his fate, of the lifeforce bleeding out of him, and then resolution and, finally, death.

  I could never willingly p
ut him through that again. Heck, I don’t want to put myself through it.

  He cringes. “No way. Nuh-uh. No man can look at a woman all enamored and hanging on his every word like that and not be interested. How’d you mess up with him? Tell me, and I’ll tell you how to make it better.”

  I shake my head and grab his hand. “No, I’m serious. I think he’s gone gone. He said something about being the wrong man for me. Like he wasn’t good enough.”

  He purses his lips and rubs at his chin. “Well, that I believe. No man is good enough for my baby girl.”

  I slump into my chair and run my fingers through my hair, pulling the long mane over to one side. In a moment of clarity, I make the most important decision of my life: I’m not going to let this go. He needs to at least be given a chance to conquer his demons. There’s something far more important on the line than whatever is plaguing him, and that’s the little love growing inside me. Our child.

  “I need to get through to him,” I say, absolutely committed to my mission.

  Ricardo frowns and squints. “Why is it so important? If he’s just another guy you hooked up with, it shouldn’t matter that much. It’s not like you have a vested interest in him.”

  I open and close my mouth, not sure how to tell him I do have a vested interest, a huge one. A life-altering one. Except the buzzer in the back kitchen goes off.

  “We gonna get any help back here?” Mama yells from the back of the bakery.

  Both Ricky and I stand, jumping to action. “Tonight, Luna’s coming over. We’ll order pizza, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Meaning you haven’t already.” The sass in his voice cannot be missed.

  “Ugh. Let’s just talk about it later, okay?” I lift my hands, clasped in prayer, to my chest.

  He puckers his lips and clucks his tongue. “Fine. I’ll bring the wine.”

  I’m about to tell him not to bother and then think better of it. He’ll definitely need it when he hears my news. “Great.”

  * * *

  Two separate knocks sound on my door at the same time. I hustle to the door, already knowing who it is. Both Ricardo and Luna have the security codes to get into the building, but Ricardo has a key.

  I open it to find both Ricky and Luna all smiles and welcoming energy. One is holding up two bottles of wine, the other a box of pizza.

  My mouth starts watering instantly at the smell of cheesy goodness. I’m not sure if it’s mental, but since I found out I’m pregnant, I want to eat all the time. As though my mind and body had a discussion and agreed now was the time to have the largest appetite in the world. This does not bode well for my physical appearance. If this keeps up, by the time the baby comes, I’ll be the size of a house. Mentally, I remind myself to add an extra yoga class into my normal weekly schedule. Maybe that will make up for the overabundance of extra calories.

  “Hey, guys!” I swing open my door, letting them both in.

  Ricky goes straight for the wineglasses while Luna sets down the pie. She’s wearing a pair of tattered jeans, a skintight tank, and a gazillion bangles that clink and chime like little bells as she moves. Two separate crystals hang from her neck. One on a long chain that runs down past her breasts, the other on a choker right at her neck. I finger the quartz.

  “Feeling the need to ward off some negativity today?” I question, noting her aura is a pensive silver at the tips of her normal gold tones. Luna takes after her mother and is a natural healer and divine spiritual leader for all the yogis in the area. It’s not typical to see something hinging on concern in her aura.

  She flattens her lips into a thin line, her facial expression one of uncertainty. “Yeah, I got a weird call from the building owner. He warned me he was thinking of selling. Did you receive a similar call?”

  I shake my head. “No, but my father would have been the one to receive it. I imagine apartment sales are like this. If our landowner sells, it usually just means we are getting a new landlord essentially. Right?”

  The silver in her aura flickers and pops around her. “I guess. I just have a funny feeling about it. I’ll know more in the coming weeks, I guess. Besides, we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about you and that yummy cocoa bit of sexy I saw you sucking face with earlier.” Her blue eyes sparkle with mirth.

  “You were sucking face! You did not share that information with me!” Ricardo walks around the kitchen counter and sets down two glasses. Luna grabs hers and instantly takes a sip. I stare at mine like it’s got a virus attached to it. Even the smell of it is strangely turning my stomach a little.

  I grab the glass and move our little party over to the couch before groaning and flopping down onto it. Luna sits gracefully next to me. Always the one with poise and tact. Ricky sits across from us in the single chair. My studio apartment isn’t big and has an open floor plan, so my bedroom is completely visible to the rest of the space. It means I always have to keep my bed made and clothes off the floor in case I have visitors.

  “It was so hot, Ricardo,” Luna gushes, making me squirm in my seat. “They were totally going at it. I swear if I hadn’t interrupted, they would have been on the floor doing the naked pretzel.” She laughs and smacks her thigh.

  “Not true!” I pick up a throw pillow and nail her with it.

  She nods repeatedly. “It is!”

  I sigh and flop back into the couch. “Not that it matters now. He came over to the bakery to talk. We chatted a bit, talked about his wife, who passed away. That was part of my original issue…”

  Ricardo sips his wine and shakes his head. “Wait a minute. You never told me he had a wife.”

  I glance down at my lap and away. “I didn’t know at first. We had the best night of sex, all over his house, and then when I woke up, I saw pictures of him and his happy wife all over the place. I freaked out. Thought he betrayed his wife and daughter. So, I bailed.”

  “His daughter! He has a kid?” Ricky asks, shock in his tone.

  “That was the other thing that freaked me out. I opened a door and found a pink nursery. Except… I didn’t see even one baby picture with his wife. Only pictures of them together. Weird, right?” I cringe and rub at my suddenly throbbing forehead.

  Ricky nods. “Yeah, it is.”

  “My mother still has baby pictures of me in the hallway, and I’m twenty-six years old,” Luna adds.

  I inhale fully and let it out slowly. “It is strange. Anyway, long story short, I jumped to conclusions, thinking he had a wife and I’d accidently jumped into bed with a scumbag cheater.”

  Ricky’s and Luna’s faces contort into expressions of disgust, but neither interrupts.

  “When he came to class on Saturday, I yelled at him for making me his mistress. He said I had the wrong idea, but I didn’t believe him and left thinking that was it. This morning, he shows up outside Lotus House again, waiting to talk to me.”

  “And how did it get from a one-night stand, to a yelling match at Lotus House, to you and him making out, to him coming to the bakery and walking out?” Ricky queries, summing up my drama rather nicely.

  “He walked out?” Luna gasps. “No!” Her voice crumbles with misery as if it happened to her.

  Man, I have good friends. Worried about me to the point they’re sad for me.

  “Yes!” Ricky answers for me, his indignation obvious.

  I groan and cover my eyes. “When he came today, he was flirty, which reminded me why I was attracted to him in the first place.” I frown, forcing those thoughts out of my head. “Anyway, he made me listen to him. He cornered me up against the hallway wall, which was so hot, you guys, you have no idea.” I fan my face, my temperature rising with the retelling. “Then he told me he’d been married, but he’s now widowed.”

  “Oh no.” Luna’s voice lowers, filled with emotion for a person she doesn’t even know. Kindhearted, my girl. “Do you know how long ago?”

  “He didn’t say, but his aura was showing he’s still
grieving, yet I get the feeling it wasn’t that recent. Also, he never brought up his daughter.” Which is weird. Period.

  “Do you think something happened to his kid and wife at the same time?” Ricardo’s eyes seem to get bigger by the millisecond, a sheen of sadness passing through them.

  Holy shit! That could be it.

  “Oh, my goodness. What if he lost his kid too?” I gasp and place my hand over my mouth and belly, gut-wrenching acid swirling in my stomach. “Losing both at the same time could easily break a man like him.”

  Both Luna and Ricky nod and take swallows of their wine.

  Not thinking straight, with this possible new information swirling around in my head like a tornado, I add, “Makes the secret I’m keeping from him even harder to tell.”

  I shake my head, the misery coating my tongue, clogging up my throat and making tears prick at my eyes.

  “What secret, baby girl?” Ricky asks softly.

  Luna places her hand on my knee. “Yeah, what are you not sharing?”

  I close my eyes and sigh heavily. “You know the one-night stand we started talking about?”

  “Yeah. Go on…” Luna nudges.

  “Well, I got a little more out of it than a half dozen orgasms and a lifetime of memories to relive.”

  Ricardo shakes his head. “No, baby girl. Don’t even say it…” he warns, his face paling, expression guarded.

  Luna’s brow furrows, and she looks at Ricky and then at me and back again. “Say what?”

  I swallow down the fear and doubt I’m doing the right thing by telling my best friends, but I can’t go through this alone. Not anymore. Especially after Silas left the way he did this evening.

  Mustering up all my strength, I whisper the two words I’ve been afraid to say: “I’m pregnant.”

  Ricky hisses, and Luna gasps.

  “Fucking hell, baby girl!” Ricardo stands up and starts pacing. “And with a fucked-up creeper who may look exactly like Jesse Williams, which means your baby is going to be fine as fuck, but damn it all to hell. The man has a screw loose!” He keeps pacing, to the kitchen and back to the couch, all of ten feet, before turning around again. “Obviously, if he got up and walked away from you after a night of carnal delights. Sweet baby Jesus. Now I’m going to have to be a father figure. Shit!” He runs his hands through his slick black hair, messing it up, layers falling to the sides of his head.