Every Chance I Get

by Altonya Washington

  Talib conceded his best friend’s point with a nod. “My story isn’t easily shared, but best forgotten.”

  Asher stood then and walked over to clap Talib’s shoulder. “But you never truly forget, do you?”

  Misha’s frown was more confused than angry when she opened her door to Talib that night.

  “I’m sorry.” She tucked a wayward lock behind her ear. “We didn’t discuss having a meeting tonight, did we?”

  Shamefully long lashes settled slowly over his eyes when he shook his head. “I took a chance you’d be home. There is something I wanted to talk to you about.” His onyx eyes raked the length of her more than once. “Is this a bad time?”

  “Um…well, I’m, um…entertaining.”

  Talib couldn’t stop the sharp tug of his brows but managed to mask it easily. “Anyone I know?” He made a play at humor, hoping to restore his ease.

  Misha shrugged. “Actually you know him quite well.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m betting he’ll be one of your clients someday.”

  “Is that a fact?” Talib eased a hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

  Misha leaned against the door and rolled her eyes in a dreamy manner. “He’s so young and full of energy, not to mention gorgeous. That’s important, right?”

  “Talent helps.” Talib didn’t mind if she heard the biting tone to the words.

  Misha wasn’t fazed. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll have tons of that.”

  “Are you?”

  “Definitely.” She laughed then. “Would you like to say hello?”

  Talib lingered in the doorway when Misha stepped back. “I shouldn’t interrupt more than I already have.”

  “Oh, it’s not a problem. He’s just waking up.”

  Waking up? Talib smarted as if she’d slapped him.

  “I’m just about to give him a bath.” She left him in the doorway.

  Frowning furiously then, Talib followed her into the apartment bent on satisfying his curiosity.

  “Crickey, Misha,” he whispered when she lifted Ahmad from the portable crib she kept for the baby’s visits.

  “Look who’s here, cutie pie.” Misha cooed to the baby and then fixed Talib with a saucy smile. “I think Uncle Tali was expecting someone else,” she whispered near Ahmad’s temple. “Exactly what were you thinking, Talib?”

  He was already reaching for his nephew. “Just what you wanted me to.”

  “I’m babysitting.” Misha propped her hands on her hips. “Asher and Riley had a last-minute thing.”

  Talib watched her close while bouncing Ahmad lightly against his chest. He took in her hair clipped up in a haphazard manner. Her feet were bare and peeking out from beneath the cuffs of her wrinkled black yoga pants and a strappy T-shirt splattered with what looked suspiciously like juice. Talib thought she’d never looked lovelier.

  “May I help?” he asked when she realized he was staring.

  “Sure.” She headed out of the living room. “I’m always happy for an extra hand. It’s not a big job, just a sponge bath. Looks like the guy’s gonna spend the night.”

  The godparents worked in ease. Talib held conversation with the baby while Misha set out a pallet on her bed and ran water in a little wash basin from her private bathroom.

  The baby laughed and was in constant motion, making it no easy task to rid him of his sleep clothes and diaper.

  “So what did you want to discuss?” Misha wiped a damp, softly scented cloth across the baby’s skin.

  Talib waved fingers before Ahmad’s face, smiling as the child followed every movement with an alert gaze. “It’s good news, bad news or a mix of both depending on how one looks at it.”

  Misha maintained her duties but moved a tad slower as she waited for him to get to the point.

  “There’s an issue in Phoenix that needs a personal touch. It’ll put our interviews on hold, I’m afraid.”

  “I see.” Misha hoped she didn’t sound as let down as she felt. It was hard to think of anything other than obtaining more insight into who the man was.

  “But there may be a way to continue, you see…you could come with me.”

  Misha went completely still. “Your story isn’t the only thing on my plate, you know? I can’t just pick up like that.”

  She could and Talib knew it.

  “Is this something you’d insist to Gloria?”

  “Should I?”

  “Could you at least let me think about it?”

  “I can only give you a day.”

  “And how long would we be out there?”

  Talib moved in to assist as Misha eased a one-piece tee over Ahmad’s head.

  “I don’t really know how long, love. This problem is a real pain in the bum, which unfortunately requires my handling it personally.”

  “So it’s about a West Coast client?” She watched him nod. “I suppose that makes sense.”

  “Meaning?” Talib cocked his head.

  “Well, you’ll be heading up the Phoenix office.” Misha finished snapping the garment between the baby’s legs. She gave Ahmad a little tickle then. “It makes sense for you to go out and handle a West Coast problem.

  It is still in the works for you to go back there, right?” Her tone was softer but nonetheless curious.

  “It’s still in the works.” It was easy for him to see the relief fleeting across her oval honey-toned face. “Would you ever consider moving out there?”

  Misha laughed and scooped up Ahmad. “What? And leave all this?” she called, while heading back to the living room. “I’m happy just visiting, thank you very much.”

  “Does that mean you’ll join me?”

  She settled the baby into the crib and didn’t answer.

  “What are you afraid of?” Talib folded his arms over the lightweight Cardinals sweatshirt he sported. “We’ve already slept together, you know.”

  Misha focused on the baby and tried to ignore that particular fact.

  “Do you expect me to stay with you while we’re there?”

  “What sense would it make for you to stay elsewhere?” He smiled when she bristled. “I’d be happy to provide you with your own place if you insist.”

  Silently, Misha thought it was most likely she’d spend little time there. Besides, she said earlier that she’d travel whatever road to find out what she’d been denied all those years before. Here was her chance to prove that she meant it.

  “All right, then,” she said and almost laughed at his surprise. “Would you give the baby a bottle?” she asked en route to the kitchen.

  “I saw Asher earlier. He didn’t mention you watching the guy tonight.” Talib observed her as she prepared the bottle.

  Misha shrugged. “It all came up real fast for Riley and I…”

  “Volunteered,” he supplied, knowing full well her motivation behind the offer. Of course they both adored spending time with the little one. Still, he knew she was dead set against repeating another sexual event between them even though he knew in his gut that she wanted another, and more after that.

  Misha began to heat the bottle. “So what time do we leave?”

  Talib didn’t respond and she turned to repeat the question. There was no need. His tongue was in her mouth seconds later and the moment met all the requirements for venturing well beyond the heated kiss. His hand was beneath her top and cupping a breast while the other was massaging her center through the cottony pants.

  Ahmad’s tiny mewling broke the moment and had the godparents pulling apart as if they’d been caught doing something naughty.

  “I’ll be waiting for that.” His dark eyes shifted toward the warming bottle.

  Alone in the kitchen, Misha slumped back against the counter and prayed for strength.

  Talib wouldn’t have been surprised to have been told he’d smiled all throughout his sleep. Waking up to her hair teasing his nose with its scent and texture, her bare skin beneath his fingertips…he wanted this for a lifetime. This ti
me, however, he wouldn’t be dumb enough to lose it.

  When he opened his eyes, his fate was sealed if it wasn’t already. Misha rested on him, snuggled trustingly against his chest while Ahmad slept in the center of it. They’d fallen asleep on the quilted pallet Misha set up on the living-room floor where they’d played with the baby into the wee hours.

  Yes, this was what he wanted—a life. Not stolen moments and discussions concocted through some work-related issue.

  Misha stirred, her lashes fluttering and she looked right at him.

  “I love you,” he greeted simply, honestly.

  She bit her lip, taking stock of their position. Something stirred in her gaze when she saw Ahmad lying there against Talib.

  “We should be getting up.” She was already starting to brace against him. “Asher and Riley’ll be here soon,” she explained when his arm flexed about her.

  Talib wanted to savor it all just a moment longer.

  “Talib—”

  He kissed her then and she whimpered, succumbing briefly before taking her will by the reins and pulling back. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth.” She uttered the first excuse that came to mind yet surrendered once again when he resumed their kiss.

  When they pulled apart for the second time, it was to the sound of Ahmad giggling at the two of them. The baby’s head bobbed up and down on Talib’s chest.

  “On that note…” Misha sighed.

  She and Talib rose gingerly. Talib left the room to change the baby while Misha prepared a fresh bottle and listened to the guys while the bottle warmed in a pot on the stove.

  “Just give it eight minutes,” she called when he looked up from changing Ahmad and found her watching them. “It’ll be ready. I’m going to grab a shower.”

  Ahmad cooed, bringing his godfather’s thoughts back to reality.

  “The bottle, right, mate.”

  “Arriving in our clothes from last night. Misha’s gonna have a ball with this one,” Riley purred as her husband nibbled her earlobe.

  Asher chuckled. “Not as much of a ball as we had.”

  “Stop.” She slapped his shoulder. “You know we could’ve come back last night for the baby.”

  “And rob her of all that fun? Some friend you are.”

  The Hudsons were engaged in a sultry kiss when the door opened before them.

  “Ah…if it isn’t Mummy and Daddums.”

  Surprised on several levels, Asher and Riley took a while to cross the threshold.

  “Well, well…” Riley took Ahmad. “Did you see anything inappropriate last night, sweetie?” she asked her son.

  Talib kissed Riley’s temple. “He was the perfect witness—can’t talk and doesn’t know what ‘inappropriate’ means.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Let’s go see what Aunty Misha has to say about that.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Talib said to Asher once Riley and the baby had gone to the back of the apartment.

  Asher shrugged, though his brow rose in a devilish manner. “I was only thinking how sweet it was of you to help with the baby.”

  “I came over to ask about the trip.” Talib looked pretty pleased with himself. “She agreed to come along.”

  “So you went with the bribery?”

  Talib grinned. “Didn’t have to. I simply reminded her of the kink this trip would put in our interviews for the story.”

  “Mmm-hmm…” Asher grunted, while searching Misha’s fridge. “Bribery.”

  Talib waved off his friend and left the kitchen.

  Misha was just wrapping into a towel when she heard Riley’s voice.

  “Why, Miss Bales, we’d have found another sitter had we known you were having a young man over.”

  “Riley, you scared me.” Misha braced a hand to the bathroom doorjamb for support. “And it wasn’t even like that.”

  “Please don’t explain.” Riley glanced across her shoulder. “I’d rather know what the suitcase is for.”

  “He asked me to go with him to Phoenix.” Misha leaned against the dresser and pulled a scarf from her head.

  “Wow.” Riley toyed with Ahmad’s tiny fists. “That’s the last move I’d expect you to make, given all the tension.”

  “Oh, that.” Misha dropped the scarf into a basket on the dresser. “We relieved a lot of that tension the other night.”

  Riley’s mouth formed a perfect oval.

  Misha collected Ahmad before his mother dropped him.

  “So where do things stand now?” Riley finally managed a question.

  “It was only sex, Riley.”

  “So what’s your going to Phoenix really about?”

  “The past.” Misha sat on the edge of the bed and rocked the baby. “I’ve got to know more about his background. I’ll do what’s needed to get that story. As for all the rest—” her brows rose in a skeptical fashion “—I guess I’ll just have to play by ear in handling all the rest.”

  Chapter 11

  Phoenix, Arizona

  Subdued was not a word Misha Bales would ever use while describing herself. It was a word she wouldn’t even think of to describe herself.

  She couldn’t think of a better word to describe herself when she was escorted from the chopper that set down atop the roof of the Phoenix high-rise. She smiled demurely and thanked the young man for his assistance. When he moved on to collect the baggage, she turned her focus to Talib. He stood talking and laughing with the helicopter pilot and she accepted that for the time being she’d be completely out of her element.

  She hadn’t allowed herself much time to dwell on just how much he’d changed during the last six years. Physically, there wasn’t much difference. He was still gorgeous as hell with the added allure that men seemed to acquire in spades as they aged. No, this change had more to do with his persona. His demeanor had cooled and his words came more slowly and with more thought fueling them. Confidence was evident, but it wasn’t tempered by anything cocky. This was just another more evolved part of who he’d become.

  He was still speaking with the pilot, but noticed her staring and strolled toward her without breaking the conversation he held.

  “Hungry?” Talib was asking once Misha had thanked the pilot for a great flight. “Should we eat out or stay in?”

  Misha’s brows rose as she debated. “It’s all the same, isn’t it? Considering…”

  Talib threw his head back and laughed while Misha simply observed and admired.

  “The building is home to many business people in the area,” Talib explained later while they dined. “We all pay very dearly for that chopper service, but damn if it isn’t a handy amenity.”

  “It’s very impressive.” Misha raked her nails across the sleeves of the aquamarine wrap dress she wore. “Have you lived here the entire time you’ve been in Phoenix?” She cast an appreciative stare toward the glossy cherry-wood furnishings of the restaurant.

  Talib added more sauce to his T-bone and nodded. “Pretty much,” he said.

  Misha couldn’t help but give a tiny shiver of happiness. The softly lit elegant warmth of their surroundings instilled contentment and every other soothing emotion she could conjure. She sipped more wine and continued her survey of the establishment.

  Talib had decided on dinner at the eatery the building boasted. Business people have lots of business dinners, he’d said in defense of yet another pricey amenity.

  They’d dined heartily, and that, combined with the conversation, added an even more enjoyable element to the outing. It wasn’t long, though, before Misha’s curiosity reared its head.

  “So is damage control the usual with this client of yours?”

  Talib spoke around a corner of steak. “Actually, Asher and I are a couple of the lucky ones—we’ve been pretty good judges of character. Rarely do we pick a bad apple…rarely.”

  Misha’s thoughts reflected on Ray Simmons, the “bad apple” who’d signaled the start of their troubles. Quickly, she realized the topic was probably not the best for t
hem to embark upon.

  “Talib, this restaurant is really nice—”

  “I came to the hospital that night.”

  She immediately went silent.

  “Linda, your assistant…she told me about the accident.”

  That was definitely not the subject change Misha wanted. “We shouldn’t—”

  “We’d have been together three years that day and I kicked myself all day over how far out of hand I’d let things go.” Losing taste for the food, he dropped his napkin across the plate. “I’ve been kicking myself since I first accused you, actually.”

  She bristled. “And yet you continued.”

  “And yet I continued. You see…I had to be right about you.”

  “Because of my background.”

  “Humph, because of my background.”

  “Yes?” She so wanted him to continue, but he was clearly set on discussing the accident.

  “I’d gone to your flat to apologize—used my key—” he grimaced on the memory “—the place was a mess. I tried your cell but there was no answer.” He massaged his shoulder through the coffee fabric of his shirt. “Calling Linda was a last resort.”

  Misha settled against the cushioned back of the chair and listened.

  “You looked so tiny in that bed. Tinier than usual.” He smirked, then and raked his stare across her body. “I was responsible.”

  “No.” She leaned close to the table’s edge. “No, Talib—”

  “I didn’t put you in the car…but I was at fault just the same.”

  Misha reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Why are you so set on that?”

  Gently, he pulled free of her hold. Standing, he dropped several bills to the table.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  For the second time that day, Misha gave into that subdued feeling. Talib’s condo was almost a replica of the man himself—dark, elegant and appealing. It was a place that urged meditation and rejuvenation. The earth tones meshed with other rich, dark coloring, creating a mellow quality that had Misha walking through the place as if led by some invisible thread.