More Than He Can Handle

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More Than He Can Handle Page 3

by Cheris Hodges


  “Only crazy people talk to themselves,” Cleveland said as he walked up behind her.

  “Are you following me?”

  Cleveland rolled his eyes as he watched her fumble with the lock on her door. “Most women would just say ‘Thank you.’”

  “For what? Stalking me? You flatter yourself too much.”

  “No, for seeing you to your car in this dark parking lot, making sure no harm came to you. I could’ve just gotten in my car and sped off.”

  “I don’t need a man to take care of me. I’ve done a fine job of keeping the boogeyman at bay without your help.”

  “Forget it, you’re so damned bitter that you wouldn’t understand someone being nice to you if he kissed you dizzy. Which, I might add, I did a few minutes ago, even if you try to pretend that it didn’t happen.” Cleveland stormed away from her and Freddie slid into her car. Placing the key in the ignition, she turned the key, but nothing happened. Banging her hand against the steering wheel, she cursed herself for not getting her vintage Mustang serviced before making the trip to Georgia. The candy apple red car was the only thing of value that she had of her father, a faceless man whom she had only fleeting memories of. What she did remember was her mother, Loraine, telling her how men like her father were not to be trusted. They only wanted one thing and once they got it, they’d move on. Just like her father did. Just like the boy she loved in college did and just like Cleveland would if she gave him a chance.

  Freddie wasn’t bitter, she was a realist. And in her reality, love didn’t last and didn’t exist. She had too much going on, running her business and trying to rebuild her life after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. The last thing she needed was to be worried about some man and his comings and goings. Her childhood home had been destroyed and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to rebuild it. On the other hand, the boutique hotel that she and her mother owned in the French Quarter was thriving. Though with tourism at a standstill in the Crescent City, it wasn’t going to be long before they started feeling the economic pinch as well. Freddie wanted to start over like so many people in New Orleans had done following the storm, but her mother depended on her to run the place.

  Since the storm, Loraine had been living in Houston at Freddie’s expense. A part of her thought that her mother was happy that Hurricane Katrina had washed most of New Orleans away. It gave Loraine a chance to put her past behind her, a past that included Freddie’s father, Jacques Babineaux. He was known around New Orleans because of the crime he’d committed, killing a man of God. While Freddie knew bits and pieces of the story, her mother never told her everything.

  Freddie remembered the day when her father disappeared and the whole city started treating her and her mother as if they were criminals as well. While the whole city knew the story, no one ever told Freddie. As she grew up, she started to search through old newspapers and Internet articles about the 1986 murder, but she wanted the truth from her mother or her father, who was now an escaped convict.

  Getting out of the car, she slammed the door and kicked the new tires. Sure the car was pretty, but right now it was pretty useless. Pulling her cell phone out of her purse, she started to dial AAA, but a car pulled alongside her. The driver got out without saying a word and took the phone from her hands.

  “Do you need some help?” Cleveland asked softly.

  Turning her eyes upward, Freddie realized that she was hardly in a position to turn him away. “My car won’t start.”

  “Pop the hood and let me take a look,” he said, rolling up his sleeves.

  She did as he requested, surprised that he was willing to get his manicured hands dirty.

  Cleveland released a low whistle. “Man, I would’ve given anything to have one of these back in the day. It looks as if you’ve kept it in good condition.”

  “This car has been nothing but a headache, much like its previous owner.”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Do you have any idea what’s wrong?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

  He shook his head as he jiggled cables. “I think I found the problem,” he said as he stepped back from the car. “Get in and try it again.”

  Freddie slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The car started immediately. “What did you do?” she asked as she hopped out of the car, afraid to turn the ignition off.

  Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Cleveland wiped the oil from his hands then smiled at Freddie. “Loose battery cable,” he said. “You might want to get your battery cleaned. And you have some acid leaking from your battery. If you have a cola in your car, I could clean the built up crude on the battery. That’s why your cables aren’t connecting tightly.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I thought you’d left.”

  He shrugged. “I was going to, but I saw that you were having some issues with your car and being the gentleman that I am, I stopped to see if I could help you. Besides, I wondered who this car belonged to.”

  “I have to get to Lillian’s mother’s house before she thinks that I’m not coming home tonight.”

  “Let me follow you just in case your car conks out on you again. If you don’t consider that stalking,” he said.

  “Cleveland,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “I don’t mean to be hard, but you have to admit that you come off a little arrogant, and I don’t find that attractive at all.”

  “And that shrew act you put on, it ages you ten years. Do you want me to see you home safely or what?”

  Freddie chewed again on her bottom lip. She really didn’t want to go to Lillian’s tonight. She’d actually told her friend and her overbearing mother that she was going to check into a hotel. She couldn’t deal with those drama queens and their wedding chatter all night. The last thing she wanted, as well, was to answer questions about her life in New Orleans and how she was dealing with the hurricane recovery. But the one decent place in town was booked.

  However, there was no way she was going to let Lillian and her nosy mother see Cleveland following her to their house. She would be forced to answer too many questions and all she wanted to do was go to sleep. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Cleveland said, and got into his car and drove off.

  Freddie watched as he drove away and wondered if she might be wrong about him.

  Alone in his hotel room, Cleveland had finally found something to think about other than the Atlanta Falcons’ playoff berth. Freddie Barker. She wasn’t the wicked witch that he thought she was. The way she kissed him was enough to make him want to bury himself inside her until the earth and sun became one and the same. Pacing back and forth in the dank room, he wondered what would’ve happened if she were in the room with him. Did she wear sexy, lacy underthings or nothing at all? Glancing over his shoulder, he imagined Freddie lying in his bed, inviting him to taste her all over.

  What in the hell is wrong with me? Cleveland thought as he threw himself on the bed, locking his hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.

  Sleep didn’t come easy for Cleveland because Freddie haunted his dreams. He could smell her, taste her, and he damn near expected to feel her in the bed beside him. What was it about this woman that had made him painfully aware of how long it had been since he’d slept with a woman?

  After Darren and Jill got married, Cleveland didn’t find the satisfaction in temporary entanglements that had gotten him through the last few years. He wanted something like what Darren and Jill had. A real connection, not just a physical one, but he wasn’t going to admit it. With Freddie, he’d settle for a physical one because she was one sweet piece of—The telephone rang announcing his wake-up call and Cleveland rolled out of bed. He wasn’t rested, but at least this wedding would be over soon.

  Freddie closed her eyes tightly as the alarm clock blared. Why in the world was she in Covington, Georgia? Oh, yeah, Lillian’s wedding. Today was the day and she couldn’t wait f
or it to be over. Before she could force herself out of bed, the door to the guest room flung open and Lillian burst in as if it were noon and not six in the morning.

  “Good morning, maid of honor. So, how did it go last night? You rushed in here and went straight to bed before I could ask you any questions.” Lillian pounced on the bed and Freddie grunted. “That well, huh?”

  Freddie flung the covers back and sat up in the bed. “First of all, things went fine last night. Secondly, why are you in here and how in the hell are you so damn perky?”

  Lillian stretched her arms over her head. “It is my wedding day. I’m marrying the man of my dreams in twelve hours and there is so much to do. When are you going to settle down, Winnie?”

  “Don’t call me that. Settling down isn’t in my future. I have to rebuild, remember? My home was blown away.” Freddie gritted her teeth. “You could’ve brought me some coffee.”

  “I forgot, you’re a caffeine addict. Why not leave New Orleans and start fresh? You could move here. It would be like old times at Xavier, except we wouldn’t be roommates this time.”

  Freddie shook her head. “New Orleans is my home and let’s not forget that my business is there. Thankfully the water didn’t reach the French Quarter and my hotel is still standing. With Mardi Gras coming up, I’ve got to see if I can make enough money to get the ball rolling on rebuilding. The government isn’t helping and my insurance company is a damned joke. This is going to be a do-it-yourself project.”

  Lillian pushed her hair behind her ears. “I couldn’t do it. It was too horrible to watch New Orleans drown and the government do nothing to help. Then I couldn’t find you . . . Freddie, you’re like a sister to me and I’m scared for you. Look at all the crime and what about the levees? Are they fixed? I mean, hello, hurricane season is right around the corner and who’s to say that another storm won’t come and . . .”

  “Lil, it’s your wedding day, can we please talk about something else and get me a cup of coffee?” Freddie said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  “All right. Did you and Cleveland get my flowers arranged right? He didn’t do anything sleazy, did he? He has a reputation, you know.” Lillian rolled her eyes for effect. “I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

  Intrigued, Freddie turned around and faced her friend. “What kind of reputation?”

  “A real ladies man. Did you see how those other women in my bridal party looked at him? He walks around like he’s some kind of Greek god. Since Louis and I have been together, I don’t think I’ve seen him with the same woman twice. And they’re all the same airheads. So you can imagine what he wants them for, and it’s not stimulating conversation. Ugh, and to think that he was the one who planned Louis’s bachelor party.”

  “He didn’t plan the party, remember,” Freddie said, feeling as if she needed to defend Cleveland. She shook her head and tried to focus on what Lillian was saying. But her mind when back to the two kisses she and Cleveland had shared the night before.

  “Are you listening to me?” Lillian asked when she noticed her friend’s silence.

  “Yes,” she lied.

  “Anyway, I don’t even know why Louis and Cleveland are friends, aside from the fact that they are both firefighters in the same battalion. They are so different.”

  Freddie chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything. Cleveland Alexander, the bane of her existence, the star of her erotic dreams last night and the man who made her engine purr and sent her heart into overdrive.

  “Whatever,” she said. “I guess women are dumb and fall for those eyes and that hair. Like he’s a black Fabio or something.” Lillian eyed her friend suspiciously.

  “Nothing happened with you two last night, did it?”

  “Hell no, Lil. I had some car trouble and he helped me out, but that is it.”

  Lillian nodded slowly. “I guess you’re one of those dumb women. Was it the hair or the eyes that got you?” She giggled and shook her head. “I can’t believe you! You fell for him too.”

  “Please! Cleveland Alexander is not, I repeat, not someone I am remotely interested in,” Freddie protested.

  Lillian smiled knowingly. “Is that so? The last time you got so upset about a ‘man you weren’t interested in’ it was Marcus Thompson.”

  “Let’s not go there.” Freddie said, placing her hands over her ears. The last thing she wanted to hear was a rehashing of her failed relationship with Marcus, a controlling and arrogant man who used people to get what he wanted and wasn’t above throwing out the L-word to get it.

  “Whatever,” Lillian said. “I recall you giving up meat for him, even though you really love steaks.”

  Freddie ran her hand over her face. “I was young and stupid. That’s a mistake I’ll never make again.”

  “You like those types of guys and Cleveland falls right in line with your type of man,” she sang.

  “Lillian, today is about you and your wedding, not about me and Cleveland or Marcus or any other ex.”

  Lillian rose from the bed in a flourish. “Whatever you say, sis. I’m going to take a long hot bath. My mom is cooking breakfast, so you can head downstairs and get your coffee.” When Lillian left the room, Freddie lay back down and pulled the covers back over her head. She’d forgo her morning cup of coffee if it meant dealing with Michelle Thomas.

  Before she could drift back to sleep, her bedroom door opened again and Michelle stood in the doorway. “Winfred, are you still in bed? You know there is a lot we need to accomplish this morning.”

  Freddie groaned. “I’m not the one getting married. Besides, Lillian is taking a bath.”

  Michelle put her hands on her hips and looked at Freddie, who was gripping the blanket tightly. “You’re going to be in the wedding and from where I stand, getting you ready for that dress is going to be a chore. Your hair is a mess and let’s not even talk about those nails of yours.”

  Freddie glanced down at her hands and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said as she sat up and climbed out of bed. “I’m up. What do you need me to do for a wedding that’s twelve hours away?”

  Michelle sauntered out of the room. “Nothing much, just wanted to get you out of bed.”

  Freddie shook her head and held her tongue. Despite the fact that Michelle had pissed her off, she still had to respect the older woman, because that was how she was raised. And in spite of all her airs, Michelle was her best friend’s mother.

  “Can I at least get a cup of coffee?” Freddie said, as she followed Michelle downstairs to the kitchen.

  Chapter 4

  Morning bled into afternoon and finally it was time. Time for Cleveland to stand up for Louis and get the hell out of town. He arrived at the church at 4:30, dressed in his black tuxedo and silver accessories. His hair was hanging loose and tumbled down his shoulders. As he turned the corner to head into the room where the groomsmen were, he collided with Freddie. Cleveland wrapped his arms around her to break her fall. She looked beautiful. The silver strapless dress clung to her body in all the right places and made her breasts look ready to taste. With her hair pulled back in a chignon, Cleveland got a chance to look deeply into her expressive dark eyes. She drew him in with the way they sparkled, and he wondered if they also sparkled first thing in the morning.

  “Where’s the fire?” Cleveland asked when his breath returned to his chest.

  “Could you get your hands off me?” she snapped. Cleveland could’ve sworn he felt her tremble against him.

  “Next time, watch where you’re going,” he replied as he released her.

  Freddie shook her head and leaned against the wall. “You know, for a pig, you clean up really well.” She brushed a stray loc behind his ear and then moved her hand as if she had touched fire.

  “And for a frowning spinster, you look nice too,” Cleveland quipped. “Don’t you have some duties to perform for the bride?”

  Freddie rolled her eyes. “I love Lillian to death, but if she
yells at me one more time, she isn’t going to make it down the aisle, because I’m going to break her damned leg.”

  Cleveland laughed, because he believed that Freddie would fight her friend, even though they were all dressed to the nines. “I’d pay to see that. Throw in a little mud or Jell-O and I’d sell tickets and bootleg it on DVD.”

  She shook her head. “Just when I thought you were human, the pig comes out again.”

  “You painted the picture,” Cleveland said, flashing a wily smile.

  “I guess it’s a good thing that I ran into you because Lillian wants to know if you have the rings,” she said. “She also wants to know if you and Louis have gone over the checklist.”

  Cleveland felt his jacket pocket. “Well I’ll be damned, I knew I forgot something. And what is the ‘checklist’?”

  Freddie’s mouth fell wide open. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”

  He pulled the rings out of his pocket. “Tell Lillian everything is under control, Louis has his vows memorized and he’s going over them with Roland because I don’t want to hear that mushiness.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she started to walk away.

  “Hey,” Cleveland called out. Freddie turned around. “Don’t forget to save me that dance at the reception. Remember you promised.”

  “Delusional much? I never agreed to that,” she said with a slight smile on her lips and that mischievous sparkle in her eyes. Cleveland knew that by the end of the night, he’d be holding her naked body in his arms and tasting all of her secrets.

  Freddie exhaled loudly as she entered Lillian’s dressing room. “Where have you been?” Lillian asked. “I needed you.”

 

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