Forever Claiming You: Grudging Hearts Book 3

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Forever Claiming You: Grudging Hearts Book 3 Page 14

by Arthurs, Nia


  A car squeals to a stop near the curb.

  A door slams.

  Footsteps thump the grass on my front lawn.

  I lift my chin from my father’s shoulder. Spy a tall man with dirty blonde hair and long strides leap up the steps of my verandah.

  Teale.

  His gorgeous face twisted in fury, he wrenches my dad away from me.

  Dad gasps aloud. Stiffens in shock.

  “Get your filthy hands”—Teale spins Dad around. Nostrils flare. Jaw muscles bunch—“off her.”

  “Teale, no!” I yell.

  It’s too late.

  Teale’s fisted hand collides with my father’s cheek.

  Dad goes sprawling across the verandah and stumbles to the floor.

  “Dad!” I shriek. Rush to his side. Kneel to check if there’s any blood.

  Teale’s chest heaves, but it’s not with anger. His eyebrows swoop down over his blue eyes and slant into a V. He glances at me in confusion. Then understanding. Then horror. “Wait. Did I just… is this your father?”

  24 Teale

  The worst way to show a woman you love her is by clocking her dad. Flowers, chocolates, cheesy good morning texts, expensive trips to Paris and Milan—all acceptable.

  Slamming the man who gave her life into the ground? Big no-no.

  “I’m so sorry, sir,” I say as Zania places an ice pack to her father’s bruised cheek.

  He chuckles. “That’s the tenth time you’ve apologized. It’s fine.”

  “It is not.” Zania shoots me a dark look.

  I flinch.

  She’s taking this harder than her dad.

  “Zania, relax. Teale probably thought I was a robber. He did what he had to do.” Her dad grins. “Good call.”

  Zania rolls her eyes. “Good call?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “This,” she jerks the ice pack and shakes it, “is why you don’t punch first and ask questions later.”

  “It’s in the past.” He waves away her concern.

  “I appreciate that, sir.”

  “Enough with this ‘sir’ business. Just call me Rufus.”

  “Uh… Rufus, are you staying in town long?”

  “No. I’m heading out tonight.”

  “Where are you going?” Zania asks. There’s a note of longing in her voice that tells me she didn’t expect her dad’s visit to be so brief.

  “I got a job a couple hours from here. But don’t worry. I’ll be in touch.” He rises. Stretches his back. “Speaking of, I should get on the road if I want to catch the last bus.”

  “I can take you, sir—Rufus,” I offer.

  “Nah.” He waves me away. “You stay. Showing up out of the blue like this… she’ll need someone by her side until she’s okay.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Zania says stiffly.

  “You heard your dad. I’ll stay.”

  Rufus chuckles. Clasps my shoulder. Leans in. “Don’t get any ideas. Hurt her. I’ll tear you up.”

  “Understood.”

  He steps away with a laugh. “Zania, you’ve got my number, right?”

  She nods.

  “Use it. Whenever you want.”

  “Thanks… Dad.” She tries the word uncertainly, as if it feels and tastes foreign on her tongue.

  He gives her a tight-lipped smile. Tears glisten in his eyes.

  He sniffs. “Uh… make sure you lock up good behind me.”

  “I will.”

  Just before he turns, he glances at me. “Do a better job than I did.”

  I dip my head.

  His shoes thud against the floor.

  A second later, he’s gone.

  Zania wilts into the couch.

  I watch her in concern. “You alright?”

  “Ask me that in an hour.”

  “I’ll take that as a no. Hold on. I’ll get you some water.” I head to the kitchen. Pour her a cup. While I’m there, I wonder what I should say. I called Zania tonight to confess to her, but given the way things turned out…

  Maybe I should put a hold on that.

  I return to the kitchen with the glass. “Here you go.”

  She reaches out to take it, but before her fingers make contact with the glass, her phone rings.

  “I’ll get it,” I say, handing her the cup.

  “Thanks.”

  I follow the source of the noise and locate her phone between the cushions of the sofa.

  My eyes scan the name on the screen.

  I stiffen.

  No wonder Zania looked so dressed up tonight.

  I peer at her over my shoulder. Scan her little black dress and the braids that are up in a bun.

  The phone keeps ringing.

  “What are you doing, Teale?” she asks when I don’t bring the phone over.

  I grab the device and hang up.

  The room goes quiet.

  Zania frowns. “Who was it?”

  “No one important.”

  She shoots to her feet. Stomps over. “Was it my dad?”

  “Of course not.” I shift the phone to my other hand and stretch so it’s out of her reach.

  The cell starts chirping again.

  Zania glares at me. “Give it.”

  “Take it from me.”

  Fire in her eyes, she hops. Her fingers scrape the tip of her phone, but gravity yanks her down before she can get a proper grip.

  Zania falls back against me.

  Her body is nice and soft.

  I hold her by the waist so she doesn’t stumble. “Nice try.”

  Almond eyes burn into mine. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Am I laughing?”

  “I’m not playing with you, Teale.”

  “Who’s Future Husband #2?”

  Zania’s eyes widen. “Crap. My date.” She backs away from me. Holds her head. “I completely forgot. I was supposed to meet him hours ago.”

  The phone rings.

  We both stare at it.

  Zania moves, but she’s too slow.

  I slam my thumb on the screen.

  Answer. “Hello?”

  “Zania?” A voice says.

  “Sorry, man. Zania’s not going to make it tonight.”

  “Teale!” Zania whisper-shouts.

  I wrap my free arm around her waist and bar her to me so she can’t move too much. She squirms and cusses at me, but I make sure she can’t catch the phone.

  “Excuse me?” Her date sounds aggravated. “Who is this?”

  “Future Husband #3.”

  “What?”

  “You have a good night.” I hang up. Give her the phone. “He says hi.”

  Zania stabs me with her laser gaze and taps out a number between each angry word. “You just have to be a jerk, don’t you? It’s like you can’t help yourself.” She holds the phone to her ear. Waits. Grits her teeth. “Now he’s not picking up.”

  “He’s probably offended.”

  “You think?”

  “Poor guy.” I capture her hand. Tug her to the couch. “Sit.”

  “What are you doing?” She stumbles back and falls into the sofa.

  I kneel in front of her and slip her heels off. Standing before she can get it into her head to kick me, I nod to the flip-flops set neatly next to the chair. “Put those on.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re going for a walk.”

  “I’m not—”

  I lean down and press my hand into the cushions near her head.

  She bites down on her lower lip.

  Attraction flares in her eyes.

  I can always count on those eyes to tell me exactly what she’s thinking.

  “Either put them on or I’m going to carry you over my shoulder, caveman style. Your choice.”

  She grumbles, but she slips them on.

  “Get your keys.”

  “Where are we going?” she whines. “I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

  “I’ll have you home before curfew, sweetheart.”<
br />
  That earns me another glare.

  Grudgingly, Zania locks up and follows me into the night. It’s too cloudy to see any stars, but the moon shines brightly. A gentle breeze ruffles my hair.

  I capture Zania’s hand. She tries to tug it free, but I hold fast. Finally, she stops fighting and gives in.

  As we walk, I notice the tightness in her shoulders unwinding. She sucks in a deep breath and lets it out.

  I study her face.

  She glances up and frowns. “What?”

  “Are you really okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Your father, that you’d never met, just got out of jail and came to see you. Anyone would be rattled.”

  “That’s life, right?”

  “No. That’s strange and random.”

  She shrugs. Stares at her feet. “It hasn’t really sunken in yet. It happened so fast, you know?” She looks up at the horizon. “It kind of feels like a dream.”

  “Are you disappointed Rufus didn’t stay over?”

  “Maybe it was too weird for him. Seeing me.”

  “Or maybe he was trying to be considerate. He probably wanted to give you space so you can do what you’re doing now.” I nod to her. “So you can figure things out.”

  “Maybe.” She sighs.

  “Were you happy to see him?”

  “Happy? I don’t know. My whole life, I just… didn’t think about my dad. Every Christmas, every birthday, every Father’s Day, it was easier to pretend he didn’t exist. I told everyone he’d died. But he showed up in front of me and I…”

  “You what?”

  “I missed him.” She sniffles. “It hit me tonight when he hugged me. I wanted him there all those times.”

  I squeeze her hand. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s ridiculous.” She dabs at her eyes. “I grew up perfectly fine.”

  “You’re dating strangers hoping one of them proposes in three months.”

  “Exactly.”

  I chuckle.

  Zania smiles through her tears and then smacks me softly in the arm. “I’m still mad at you for punching him.”

  “How long are you going to hold that against me?”

  “Forever.”

  “Come on. Give a guy a break.”

  She laughs. Stops abruptly. Looks up at my face. “By the way, Chandra and Ollie told me you’d set up headquarters here. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you still need a cake?”

  “Yeah, but not a big one.”

  “What happened to the launch party?”

  “It’s more of a dinner, and I’m only inviting one person.” I stare pointedly at her.

  She glances shyly away. “In that case, a cupcake will do.”

  “I’ll pay for it.”

  “Why would you? It’s just a cupcake. I don’t mind donating.”

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “I want you to bake it. In your kitchen. And I want you to charge me whatever you paid to get into that marriage agency.”

  “What?”

  I stop. Face her. “You’ve got two options.”

  She folds her arms over her chest. Tilts her head.

  I hold up a finger. “Keep going on those dates and pretend you’ll marry one of those guys you have no interest in.” I hold up another finger. “Or two—cancel your membership and date me.”

  “Is there a third option?”

  “Nope.”

  She grins. “I’ll think about it.”

  “The third option?”

  “All of it.” She strides ahead of me. Stops. Turns back. “You coming?”

  I hustle to her side and capture her hand again.

  Our fingers glide together.

  Black and white. I love the contrast of our skin tones. So damn sexy.

  Everything about her is sexy. Her smile. Her laughter. Her body…

  Zania can think about it all she wants.

  This woman is mine.

  And we both know it.

  25 Zania

  After Teale walks me home, I toss and turn in bed for about four hours before I give up on actually going to sleep. My mind keeps running around and around everything that happened last night.

  My dad showing up.

  Teale asking me out.

  Crazy.

  Yesterday was definitely a dream.

  Instead of wasting more time staring at my ceiling and rolling around my mattress, I climb out of bed and start getting ready for my day. I usually head to the bakery early anyway. I’ll just pull up my schedule by a couple hours.

  After grabbing a plastic bag, I push my braids under and step beneath the hot stream.

  Teale’s voice echoes in my head. Cancel your membership and date me.

  So freaking cocky.

  He knows good and well that I want marriage and he’s not even bothering to offer me that.

  The grin grows on my face anyway.

  There’s no use arguing. I already know I’m going to do exactly as he says.

  But I’ll have to make him work for it.

  I was an easy lay two years ago.

  Two weeks ago, I offered myself again.

  I don’t want him thinking he doesn’t have to put in any effort here.

  The water turns cold.

  I slip out and wrap a towel around myself, heading back into my bedroom. When I get there, I see my cell phone lighting up.

  It’s a text from Teale.

  I press my finger to the screen to unlock the cell.

  TEALE: Chocolate.

  My eyebrows crinkle.

  ME: ?

  TEALE: I want a chocolate cupcake.

  I laugh. This man makes me do that a lot. Even if he gets on my last nerves half the time.

  ME: Couldn’t sleep?

  TEALE: Kept missing you.

  Gosh, he’s such a sweet-talker.

  I can’t trust a word.

  I know that.

  So why do I feel like a giggling school-girl? Pulling the cell phone to my chest, I grin like a fool and scissor my legs in the air.

  My phone vibrates.

  TEALE: What are you doing?

  ME: Just took a shower.

  TEALE: Nice visuals.

  ME: Get your mind out of the gutter.

  TEALE: Why don’t you join me down here?

  I bark out a laugh.

  This guy…

  TEALE: I’m coming over.

  ME: By then I’ll be dressed.

  TEALE: Easy problem to solve.

  ME: Not happening.

  TEALE: Still coming.

  ME: Why?

  TEALE: I’m taking you to work.

  The warmth in my chest expands to my fingers and toes. I normally ride my bike to the bakery in the mornings. A car ride would be a dream.

  ME: See you then.

  I toss my phone and rush around like crazy, trying and failing to choose something to wear. Sweat beads down my neck as the minutes tick by. I find myself waffling between my regular fare of T-shirt and jeans and a dressier blouse and mini-skirt.

  “Zania, you’re being ridiculous,” I mutter to myself as I reach for the jeans.

  It makes no sense to dress up for Teale and I don’t want to get flour on my nice clothes.

  At least my hair’s in braids so I don’t have to worry about that.

  By the time Teale pulls up to the curb, I’m outside and flying down the stairs.

  He steps out, looking like a magazine model in the twilight.

  For a second, my breath gets trapped in my throat.

  All this while, I’ve been busy hating Teale, but I’ve never for a moment stopped being attracted to him.

  He’s too gorgeous.

  Memories of what’s beneath that shirt and those jogging pants send heat skittering up my cheeks.

  “Morning,” Teale says. His voice is deep. Rumbly. Crackling with affection.

  I’m glad he can’t read my mind right now.

 
; “Hey.”

  He opens my car door for me.

  I stop on the sidewalk. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman. It’s scary.”

  “Noted.” He steers me inside.

  I get comfortable and wait for him to join me in the car. On the way to the bakery, we chat about what I’m making today. I get excited about the new recipe I’ve been working on, but mid-way through, I stop.

  Teale glances at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry.” I shirk back into my chair. “You probably don’t care about things like this.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s boring.”

  “Please. Nothing revs my engines like a beautiful woman reciting her cake recipe.”

  I chuckle. “Right.”

  “You’re not boring, Zania.” He glances over. A glint in his eyes. One hand on the steering wheel. “Not to me.”

  My heart thuds.

  I stare straight ahead.

  Scramble to keep my composure cloaked around me.

  Thankfully, we’re almost to the bakery so he’s only got a couple more minutes to make my pulse race before I can fling myself into the refuge that is Brew Drop.

  Ten minutes later, I’m flipping on the lights in the kitchen and setting the ovens to pre-heat while I take out the dough I set last night.

  Teale follows me in.

  I turn around. “Are you staying?”

  “That’s right.”

  My stomach flips. “But I don’t need your help.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” He taps his laptop bag. “That’s why I brought work.”

  “Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable at home?”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” I search my brain for an excuse. “Because it’s going to get hot in here.”

  He steps forward, a roguish grin on his handsome face. “I hope so.”

  “Not,” I press a hand to his chest, push him back, “like that.”

  “Relax, Zania. I just want to be with you. It’s nothing more. Nothing less.”

  I blink, stunned once again.

  He grins and strides past me to Chandra’s office where he drags out her light, whicker sofa and plunks into it.

  I suck in a deep breath and let it out.

  To my surprise, Teale keeps his word and doesn’t touch me or look at me while I work.

  I’m stunned by how disappointed I am.

  Once again, he’s keeping his hands to himself when I’d rather have it all over me.

 

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