by Nia Arthurs
“You’re welcome to sit down for a minute, Merna,” Trenton added. He would prefer to have Breana all to himself, but inviting her mother inside was the least he could do. Breana would never have made such a move on her own.
“No, no. I have to go to the market to meet some friends.”
“What friends?” Breana asked, her eyebrow arched.
“Good friends, mother,” Merna said. “You two have a nice time. And Trenton, if I forgot to pack anything, just buy her new ones. I’ll change the door locks so she can’t come running back home.”
“I know a great locksmith for that.”
“Trenton!”
Merna smiled and waved before walking down the sidewalk and disappearing around the corner. Trenton, really, really loved that woman.
Bending over to grab the handles of the weathered suitcase, he wheeled it inside, eagerly welcoming Breana into his home. She walked over to the sofas and sat primly on the edge.
Trenton chuckled. “Why do you look so uncomfortable?”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” Breana said, her shoulders wound up so tight they nearly touched her ears.
He sat on the cushion next to her and she scooted over to put more space between them. Trenton smiled at her reaction and resisted the urge to move closer to her just to see what she would do.
“Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine.”
“Thirsty?”
“No.”
He tilted his head. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said and glanced around. “You have two bedrooms here, right?”
Trenton strained to hide his disappointment. What did he expect? Breana didn’t consider him her real husband, and she’d even informed him that there were no ‘fuzzy feelings’ between them.
Still he’d been looking forward to sharing a room with her, along with… other things.
“Trenton?”
“Huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. There are two rooms.”
“Great.” The first sign of comfort appeared in the shape of her unfurling smile, and a little bit of Trenton’s distress released at the sight of her pleasure.
“Should I take this up for you?” he asked, lifting the case.
“Please.”
Breana led the way up the stairs and as Trenton followed behind, he struggled to avoid gazing at the sway of her hips. By the time they’d crested the stairs, he found himself battling a new wave of frustration.
It had been hard enough to keep himself in check with Breana living all the way on the other side of town. Having his wife as an untouchable roommate would kill him.
“Go ahead and finish your work,” Breana said when he placed the suitcase in front of her bedroom door. “I’ll put everything up.”
“Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“Nope,” she said. “I know you work on the weekends, so don’t let me disturb you.”
Banished to his office, Trenton sat in his chair and stared blankly at his computer screen. His wife was here. Now. To live.
He didn’t have many concerns about how they would merge their schedules and personalities together. Trenton was a tidy person and Breana was too. They both valued their work and their sleep.
Sleep.
A groan worked up within his chest and escaped his lips in a sigh. He should have filled that spare room with junk or converted it into a library or something. But, knowing Breana, she’d just drag a mattress in there and sleep anyway.
That woman was something else.
Trenton spent the next hour typing a sentence on his computer, realizing that it was total nonsense, backspacing the heck out of the thing, and working the cycle again.
Deciding he wasn’t going to get anything else done today, he walked down the hall in the hopes of spying on Breana in her room.
Unfortunately, the door was securely locked.
Tucking his disappointment deep down inside, Trenton passed the bathroom to head downstairs when something caught his attention. He backed up and pushed the door open a little more.
The scene that met his eyes forced a gasp from his lips. It looked like a hair store had vomited on his bathroom sink. Bottles of coconut oil, jujoba oil, Jamaican caster oil, and a variety of other fancy terms he couldn’t pronounce formed one line. A variety of hair puddings and conditioners formed another.
“What the…”
“Oh,” Breana appeared behind him and he spun, “you don’t mind, right? I didn’t have enough space on the dresser in my room.”
His eyes bugged. “You mean there’s more?”
She tugged at a curl. “This doesn’t just happen, you know.”
“No,” he said, still shocked. “I didn’t know that.”
Breana leaned against the sink, and though she seemed completely innocent, he found the move extraordinarily seductive.
“Have you ever had a roommate before?”
“In college,” he said, his throat tight. “But I’ve never lived with a woman.”
“Really?”
“Why do you sound so shocked?”
“Common-law relationships are like the ‘thing’ in my neighborhood. It feels like people don’t even bother getting married anymore before they live together.”
“Have you lived with anyone?” he asked, his mind flitting to Denzel and his fists closing unconsciously.
“Nope,” she said.
His hands relaxed and he grinned. “That’s great.”
Breana chuckled. “I wish the girls from work could see how goofy you are in real life. They think you’re some kind of Don Juan.”
“Don Juan is my middle name, babe.”
“Trenton Don Juan Lorde. I guess it sounds plausible.”
“You’re making fun of me, but I’m incredibly smooth. You seem to be the only one who doesn’t recognize it.”
“To me you’re… adorable.”
“Adorable?” Trenton scrunched his nose. His wife was the sexiest creature he had ever seen, and she saw him along the lines of a puppy?
“Yes.” She reached out to pinch his cheeks, but he caught her fingers before they could make contact.
Pulling her closer, Trenton slid his hands slowly down her arms, curved around her shoulders and brushed her sides till he gripped her waist. Breana stood stock still at his touch, and said nothing, but her body told him all he needed to know.
He watched her dark eyelashes flutter down. Heard the hitch of her breath. Saw the flare of her nostrils as she battled her attraction with her common sense. He hoped to nudge the former along and bent his head.
She shivered in his arms and unconsciously arched up toward him. He grinned, an unapologetic display of male pride. Adorable, his back foot. Breana was feeling him as much as he was feeling her, no matter how much she tried to deny it.
Chapter 9
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Breana had to wake up. Wake up! There were certain lines she shouldn’t cross and certain games she couldn’t play, simply because there was no way on God’s green earth that she could win them.
This cat and mouse ploy that Trenton Lorde had going on was poorly disguised, and she was a complete idiot for falling for it. Only… Breana wasn’t just falling. She was diving head first, soul-deep, jumping into the shallow end.
His piercing brown eyes were a breath away from hers, she could feel his hands on her waist, and through the foggy, hazy cloud that had descended on her swooning brain, she realized that she might have pressed herself against him in a silent plea.
Breana didn’t even want to consider voicing what she was begging for, but there it was… splayed out in every fiber of her body, in every molecule of her being, every muscle, every tendon, every blood vessel.
Whether or not their connection was purely physical or stemmed from the ashes of her heart, Breana was too afraid to debate. She simply acted.
Or more accurately, waited for Trenton to act.
Which he didn’t.
She opened her eyes and found his handsome face grinning down at her for all he was worth. Coming back to herself, Breana pushed him away and fanned her face to combat the heat flooding the bathroom.
“I’m hungry,” Trenton said.
Hungry? He was hungry?
“For food?”
His grin grew, and the sparkle in his eyes threatened to blind her. She recognized the confession that hid behind her quiet inquiry and struggled to clarify.
“Of course, you’re hungry for food. Should I make something?”
“Breana?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s not kid ourselves.”
Despite the gravity of the moment, she chuckled. “You really don’t like my cooking, do you?”
“It’s okay. I can cook.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You know how to cook?”
“I’m usually too busy to cook a meal for one so I eat out, but yes, I enjoy cooking.”
“This I have to see.”
Trenton winked and pulled his car keys from his pockets. “Why don’t we go for a grocery run and then I’ll show you what I can do.”
She chose to take that statement in the innocent spirit with which it had been intended.
Glad to step out of the tense atmosphere his near-kiss had created, Breana eagerly nodded her head and followed him out to his car.
Trenton turned the radio on and left her to her thoughts. Breana appreciated his respect of her space. She had a lot to digest, and the fact that he wasn’t pressing her about what almost happened was a testament to his sensitivity.
Choosing to compartmentalize the meaning of her reaction to him until she could properly diagnose the symptoms, Breana focused instead on the sunny Belizean scenery outside her window.
Coconut tree leaves waved in the breeze. The towering green palms arched toward the sky, cheering the sun on as it mounted the highest point in the heavens.
Pedestrians walked by, fashionably dressed in shorts and cool T-shirts. Cyclists rang their bicycles and swerved through traffic like daredevils with a death wish. Vendors with colorful carts and umbrellas sold bags of fresh mangoes and craboos to those passing by.
By the time Trenton turned into the superstore’s parking lot, she had a much better grip on her sanity and self-control. Breana decided to write off their ‘moment’ in the bathroom and continue as if nothing had happened.
Case closed.
The bug that had bitten her seemed to have passed over Trenton. The man was completely unaffected by his faux play and even whistled as he grabbed a grocery cart and walked beside her into the store.
She decided to take any further cues from him, but promised that the next time he swooped in for a kiss, she would fake him back. It was only fair, after all.
“Down here,” Trenton murmured as he pushed the cart. His energy and good mood were infectious, and Breana soon found herself smiling and laughing at his antics.
“Why don’t you put things in the cart?” Trenton asked as he debated between angel spaghetti and regular pasta noodles.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you see anything that you want for the house?”
“It’s not my house.”
“What’s mine is yours.”
She arched an eyebrow. They were married in the eyes of the law, but Breana refused to take anything for granted. Trenton was speaking that way because they were in a good place right now, but if the day came where he decided her company was no longer satisfying, Breana wanted to be able to stand on her own feet.
“I’m good.”
Trenton stared thoughtfully at her and then glanced around. Silently and with great purpose, he pushed the cart forward and searched the aisles until he found what he was looking for.
“Excuse me, miss?” He tapped a young lady on the shoulder. Breana smiled when the girl gave Trenton a double glance. He was that handsome.
“Yes? How can I help you?”
“This is my wife,” Trenton said, pointing at her. Breana waved awkwardly as he continued. “Could you help me pick out anything that she might need?”
“Excuse me?” The woman tilted her head.
“Trenton, what are you doing?” Breana hissed, walking up to him and tugging on his arm. “That’s not her job.”
“Why not? We’re buying things from this store and I need help with that.”
Having been a worker in nearly all the grocery stores in the city, Breana knew how annoying customers like Trenton could be.
This girl had other responsibilities—stocking the shelves, placing tags on the goods, and cleaning the bathrooms were just a few of them. Trenton couldn’t possibly expect her to drop everything and follow them around the store.
“Well,” Trenton raised his chin and Breana was never more keenly aware of how privileged his life at been than at that moment, “what do you want to do?”
“I’ll put some stuff in the stupid cart,” she grumbled.
“I’m sorry for bothering you,” Trenton said, gripping the handles of the cart. “Thanks for your help.”
“No… problem,” the worker said, staring at Trenton as he walked ahead.
“Sorry,” Breana tacked on and hastened her steps to walk next to Trenton. “You’re so annoying.”
“You’re so stubborn.”
Breana glanced over her shoulder and haphazardly knocked a package into the cart. “Are you happy? I bought something now.”
Trenton bent over to observe her purchase. Breana looked away and folded her arms across her chest. The sudden invasion of a box of foot fungal medication in her personal space made her jump back.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
“If you’re going to play, at least play fair,” he said, shaking the box in her face. “How can you give me ammo like this and not expect me to use it?”
Breana snatched the package from him and returned it to the shelf. Embarrassment pressed her head down, and she tried to run past Trenton so he couldn’t see how shaken up she was.
Before she could get too far away, Trenton grabbed her hand and brought her around to face him. She trained her gaze on the ground, but he reached out and lifted her chin until their eyes locked.
“I want you to be happy.”
“I am.”
“I want you to be comfortable.”
“I… am.”
He turned her around so that she faced the meat section. “Then go on and pick whatever you think you need. I’m going to buy it for you. And you’re not going to make a peep of protest. Got it?” He nudged her forward and swatted her bum.
Breana threw a glare over her shoulder, and Trenton grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry. I got caught up in the moment.”
Breana let him off the hook since they were in public and walked ahead to the dry goods aisle. Trenton followed her and, just as he’d done in the mall over in America, he paid close attention to anything her eyes were drawn to.
If Breana so much as sneezed in the direction of a package of cookies, Trenton tossed it into the cart. If she picked up a package of plantain chips, he had three squeezed into the corner of the basket.
Breana had to turn around and pluck out items he’d overstocked, but left a few in the cart just to keep him placated.
By the time they were ready to check out, they had filled two carts and a basket. Breana glanced nervously at their haul. The stash would cost them a couple hundred. Could she stretch the groceries for a month?
“Why do you look so worried?” Trenton asked, completely carefree as he sucked on a lollipop.
“Maybe we should put some things back,” Breana said, sweat beading on her forehead as the line inched along.
Trenton snatched her hands before she could act on the thought. “Breana, we’re fine.” He grinned. “Trust me.”
Breana nodded and kept her hand in Trenton’s as they slowly walked forward.
Chapter 10
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Tren
ton slapped a towel against his back and fired up the stainless steel stove. The flame sparked to life, and he slid the pot filled with water on top of it. Breana watched from the island counter, her pretty face nestled between her hands.
“You’re quiet,” he said as he moved the cutting board filled with fresh vegetables to the counter beside her.
“I’m thinking about what that girl at the grocery store said.”
“What she said?” Trenton scrunched his nose as he strained to recall. They’d met several women in the grocery store, but none of them had made an impression, though—to be fair, when Breana was around, everyone else ceased to exist.
“She asked us if we were together,” Breana said, her curly hair bouncing as she shook her head.
Still confused, Trenton followed along. “Did that… bother you?”
“I just thought it was weird. We were obviously together. I was talking to you and looking at you. I literally bent over and took out the items from your cart.”
“Maybe she wasn’t sure.”
Breana sent him a look that said ‘yeah right’.
“I’m guessing you have another idea?”
“I bet if you were black, she wouldn’t have been unsure.”
“If I was black?” Trenton set the knife down and narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the paleness of his hands. “I think I’d look just as handsome if my skin was darker.”
Breana laughed. “You don’t take anything seriously, do you?”
“I take a lot of things seriously, but not that. Who cares if we’re two different races? We’re not breaking any laws.”
“Indeed.”
Trenton returned to his cutting, completely unruffled by Breana’s concern. What made her unique intrigued him. What set her apart left him panting for more. Her skin was a part of who she was, but it was a shallow reflection of the woman within.
“Do you need help?” Breana asked and when he glanced up, she was directly beside him. Her arms brushed his, and the scent of her filled the air with the fragrance of jasmine. Her hair fell just so over one shoulder and her eyes were bright and sincere.
She was more beautiful than any model he had ever seen.
His body zinged to attention, but he threw a wrench in his dirty thoughts and backed off. He’d had his chance to make good on his impulses and had chosen instead to take the last of his self-control and step away from her.
