In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2)

by Belvin, Love

  I watched Ezra dry off. Observed his broad back and shoulders that were wider than his narrow hips. His tapered waist and tight ass, all screaming dominance. I’d never seen masculinity like this, never cared to. It reminded me of when we were in Kamigu and he’d walk around our villa stark naked with his cock jutting as though he had no cares in the world. Ezra was comfortable in his skin, far more than I was in mine, which is why I believed he hid my bikini that one time on the beach and had me walk bare to our villa.

  Ahhhhhh… Kamigu…and Ezra’s big, cut body.

  I could stare at him all day.

  Ezra stopped at the doorframe, tossed me a glance over his shoulder and chuckled before leaving out.

  Arrogant fucker!

  three

  Ezra

  I jogged down the stairs and dropped my jacket on the bottom of the railing before taking off to the back of the house. I traveled the back stairs, hoping to see Alexis on the way to my office. She was in the kitchen curled over her laptop, invested in her screen. Her wooly hair was down, resting against her back. That visual was unusual and lured me. She never wore her hair down, at least not here. This gave me hope that she was growing more comfortable here. God, I’d hoped so.

  When I kissed the top of her head she didn’t react.

  “What has your rapt attention, beloved,” I murmured while collecting strands of her hair in my hands.

  That’s when she glanced up at me. Her eyes softened, but in a bashful sense, and she sucked in her top lip. Kitten, you have to learn to relax around me. Her eyes darted back to her screen.

  “I got an email notification of a new job ad from my Indeed account,” she murmured.

  “That’s good news, beloved,” I muttered then sniffed her hair, increasing my aroused state, “or is there more to this story?” my tone dropped.

  “No…well, yeah,” she replied flatly. “It’s with your church. Christ Cares.” Then she shifted to look at me.

  I straightened. “Oh.” That caught my attention, though I didn’t know why I reacted to it as though I was unaware the role was listed. “Which title?”

  “Supervisor of Social Services.”

  I moved from her and over to the cabinet to retrieve mugs. “I see. However, I fail to understand why it is so perplexing to you.” I headed to the counter for the brewed coffee pot.

  Alexis swiveled in her seat to follow my movements in the kitchen. “It’s just weird…you being the pastor and all, having known this job was available, and having an unemployed wife who’s looking for work in the same area. I don’t know.” She sighed, wiping her face with her palms before getting up and padding to the other side of the island to face me.

  I turned from the refrigerator, grabbing cream for her. That’s when I noticed she was dressed up. In fact she was wearing the same clothes she wore that day at Frankies Spuntino when she showed up plastered. The ensemble was fresh today, and so was the distasteful memory.

  “You have an interview today?” I asked after adding a teaspoon of sugar to my coffee, still paying her delicious body scrutiny, particularly around her waist.

  Scanning that area immediately brought to mind the zebra-like stretch marks on her hips that I enjoyed tasting, one by one. She was breathtaking. My mind then traveled to stripping her naked and laying her across the marble countertop to devour her.

  Alexis nodded then scooped her hair up in a hand-held ponytail before releasing it again. She exhaled, belabored while doing it, her eyes closed. “In Passaic. I have to be there in an hour. Then I have to head over the bridge to my place—I mean,” She straightened and shook herself, frustrated by that minor slip, “my old apartment to get some of Ms. Remah’s things so I can finish up her place.” Then her face wrinkled. “You’re drinking coffee?”

  I nodded before taking a sip, while observing her unease. Alexis was stressed and no matter how many times or ways I’ve asked her not to be, she still held the burden of being unemployed.

  “I had a rough night last night. Couldn’t sleep.” I could see over the rim of my coffee mug her jaw drop at that information. I didn’t want to talk about my issues of troubled sleep. It came with my calling. I figure, now that I’m married, I’d just have to find a way to keep quiet and still until it passed over. Last night, in between strange visions and praying about them, I found myself studying the virtuousness in her sleeping pose. The muscles surrounding her eyes relaxed as she slept on her stomach, and lips parted. The visual caused me to wonder why she wanted me to stay in bed until she woke in the morning, something I’d still been trying to settle in my mind. I couldn’t disclose the details of last night. I rose from bed at my usual time to run and meditate, and was now feeling the need of an energy booster. “She returns tomorrow.” I decided to detour from that topic now that I was reminded of Ms. Remah’s return.

  “Yeah,” Alexis muttered as she blinked, catching my navigation, “and I want to make sure her things are all there and go pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy while I’m in the area.”

  I nodded again. “Very well.” I placed the mug in the sink. “Are you considering applying for the position at Christ Cares?” I hid my eyes to remove any pressure, though I hoped she’d give an easy yes.

  “Ummm…” she turned back for the laptop. “I don’t know. I doubt it.” That’s when I pivoted to face her. “It’s just too close to home, you know? I mean, with you being the pastor and all, and us doing this.” Her hand motioned between the two of us.

  “Doing what, beloved?” I goaded, but was just as curious.

  “You know…marrying for…unconventional reasons and all.”

  “But we’re married. Legally bonded and with covenant.”

  “Yeah!” she spoke adamantly. “Our own rules. The church doesn’t need to be involved in our charade, Ezra.”

  That widened my face, taking me aback. “Beloved, no matter how avant-garde our path, we are very much legitimate. You belong to me now and are mine to care for and push toward your goals and endeavors. If you’re not qualified for such a role I’ll understand—”

  “Oh, I qualify!” she snapped.

  I nodded. “Well, there we have it. You’ve been aggressive in your job search. I don’t see why you’d waver here.” I left my kitten standing there with building aggression at my challenging her.

  I had to leave. Not only did I not want to push too hard only to have her rebelliously decline the application, but I had an urgent meeting I couldn’t delay.

  I pulled up to the corner coffee shop in Closter just before nine a.m. As soon as I entered, I saw him sitting in the corner, near the large back glass window. His sweat suit’s hood covered his head as he gazed desolately outside. His brawny athletic frame hidden beneath the grey sports gear.

  As I ambled over to him, he turned toward me. His eyes softened and he stood, removing his hood.

  “Ezra!” he announced with more cheer than his posture told of just moments before. We shook hands and then I grabbed him into a hug. “Good to see you, man.”

  I could sense them. Each burden he carried clung to him like a weight. My chest tightened at the recognition. I released then grabbed him at arm’s length.

  “Do we need to resume our session? When I discharged you it was because you’d met your treatment goals and could function independent of guidance.” I needed to be sure.

  He snorted, bringing my attention to his growing beard. I hadn’t seen him since my wedding day, and while it was apparent he was in optimal shape, his countenance was dismal.

  “E, man, you know how it goes. Sometimes you have your good days and others you have your not so good days. Ain’t nothing I’m not managing and giving over to God through prayer and fasting.” He cracked a wry smile. “Have a seat, man. You’re looking debonair as usual. Your swag turned up a few notches. Is that what marriage does to you?” He chuckled, jeering at me.

  I couldn’t help my unexpected leer. The mere thought of Alexis did that to me. She’d been coming arou
nd. And for that, I was a satisfied man.

  “That and makes you reconsider every thought before it becomes an action.” It was my turn to chuckle.

  “I hear that, man. It’s a beautiful thing, and you deserve it. You’ve held out long enough. I thought you’d be like your boy, Bishop Jones, and never marry.”

  “Bishop has been married,” I corrected.

  “Really?” His expression turned quizzical. “I thought he was like Paul and opted for singlehood and ministry.”

  “No,” I scoffed as I shook my head. “That has been his preference for around twenty years since divorcing, but he has children by his wife, whom are older than you.”

  “Wow?” his eyes stretched. “I know the ladies love him. I’ve seen him out at functions. He’s a magnet out there!” We laughed together.

  Bishop Jones has made it clear to me over the years that he prefers being single. I never challenged him on it. I would, however, tease him from time to time. I, too, knew the women loved him. At sixty-five years old, he was more vibrant than men half his age, and kept in great shape. The man still had a six-pack. He was regimented in diet and mild exercise. I guess younger parishioners like Trent here were drawn to that vivacious nature Bishop exuded. It was well known how close we’d been over the years.

  “Yeah. The ladies love Bishop,” I replied drily.

  “Y’all need to pass that over here. You’re now married, he don’t want to get married: I thought light-skinned dudes were coming back in style,” he joked.

  “I’ve been hearing that conjecture for years. You guys stopped reigning in the nineties. It’s now our time, T.B.” We laughed in unison at that one, too. When I was able to come down, I tried calming for my purpose of asking him to meet this morning. “You know there’s a reason I called you out here this morning.”

  Trent’s palms flashed open over the table. “I was curious as to why. I understand you’re still on leave from the church.”

  I nodded. “Have only a few more weeks to go and couldn’t wait that long to pull you aside.”

  The waiter came over to take our order. Trent declined, explaining he was fasting. I didn’t particularly want anything, but ordered tea to patronize the place.

  When he left, I got right to it.

  “Trent, I had a rough night of sleep last night. It started off with a nightmare of sorts. I was in the wilderness, at night with nothing but a flashlight. It was cold, woodsy, endless, and quite frightening, considering I was alone. I could hear the echoing of steps behind each one I made. I knew the sounds were not from mine; they were louder, almost from a big creature creeping up on me. But no matter how many times I would turn and flash my light behind and around me, I couldn’t find anything. I heard the howling of wolves, flapping wings of fowls, and the cries and movements of various reptiles.”

  Trent drew closer to me over the table, clearly giving me his full attention.

  “I was tired and hungry, and while that was to be expected and didn’t trouble me, what did was my state of dismay. I didn’t think I’d ever leave that wilderness. I’d been walking for miles—days! I couldn’t identify where I was, only why I was there. The worst part of it all was I didn’t know how long I’d be there. So discouraged, at one point I dropped to my knees to pray—to beg God, actually, to save me. I needed rescuing or I’d certainly be devoured by wildlife. I prayed for an unknown, yet long period of time. When I came up, it was still pitch black and I’d lost my flashlight. I was ready to give up. To surrender my will to live right there.”

  Trent’s eyes glossed over and he swallowed hard.

  “The moment I made the decision to succumb to my destiny in the wilderness, I heard a commanding utterance. “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you. And will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you. And will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” That declaration—that promise restored just enough energy in me to walk again,” I continued.

  Trent reclined in his seat. His eyes went out the window, into the distance.

  “I began to slump forward—not that I knew where I was going, but I followed that commanding voice with depleted energy. It was my promise. My manna. I had to go or else I’d die. I couldn’t tell you how long I forged toward the voice, but could tell you along the way I saw wolves, bears, lions and even a serpent advising me to go the opposite way. As much as my flesh wanted to give up and cave to my fears and thoughts of betrayal from God allowing me to spend so much time in this wilderness, hungry and scared, I had to press toward the mark and seek the Source I knew had plans for my life.” I stopped once my tea was placed on the table. It gave me a moment to shake the vivid recollection of the horrifying setting.

  “As I tossed and turned last night, I prayed silently, not wanting to alert my sleeping wife. I didn’t want to leave our bed for fear of losing what God was trying to show me, and of course that may have awakened her. So, I stayed the course, until my limping brought me to big bright overhead lights. I could recognize a stadium right away. I questioned if I had the energy to make it inside to safety, rest, and food.” I shook my head, recalling the order of the vision. “The next thing I knew, it was no longer me in the wilderness. I’d somehow stepped out of the shell and looked back on it to find you. You were present age and in the same top physique as you’re sitting here with me now. This was your journey I’d experienced. You’d just made it out of the wilderness and into the stadium packed with all of your fans, cheering you on from the bleachers. Your teammates were there, shouting your victory. Your coaches smiled with pride and happiness of your arrival.”

  A single tear fell from Trent’s eye. I covered his hand. I needed him to stay with me.

  “Trent, I saw a woman, standing directly in front of you, waiting impatiently to embrace you. She held a small baby, a newborn. Next to them was an older child, almost as tall as the woman. I understand this doesn’t make much sense, brother, but this was your wife and children.”

  He covered his face with his hands as he sat back in his seat. The more I spoke the clearer the dream had become. God was about to deliver Trenton Bailey from his wilderness.

  Everyone clued in on sports and/or pop culture recognized the name Trent Bailey. The twenty-six year old former pro quarterback for the NFL’s Connecticut Kings was recently released from prison, completing an eighteen-month term. His arrest, trial, and conviction had been publicized on television screens across the country. Once he was indicted by the grand jury, the Kings suspended him, putting his $56.8 million contract in jeopardy. Upon conviction, the league suspended him indefinitely. It was obviously the lowest point of his life.

  I’d known Trent for a couple years. He began attending RSfALC with another pro player when I’d returned home from overseas. My father was relieved at the timing, understanding that I could engage and therefore keep this influx of young, wealthy, and celebrity parishioners. We hit it off right away. Trent was young and promising back then, a kid en route to the league. He won college football’s most prestigious award during his junior year, prompting the Giants attempt to trade up and make him the number one pick in the draft, but the Kings couldn’t fathom relinquishing the pick no matter the offer. The Kings drafted him number one overall, making him the highest paid rookie in league history. Trent’s contract was the last of its kind before the current collective bargaining agreement. The impecunious kid from Camden, NJ had come a long way indeed.

  One night after Bible study, he approached me for sound advice about the career and clear lifestyle change he was preparing to embark on. I had no knowledge of the sports industry. I h
ad no schooling in business. I did, however, have a fellow Pepperdine alum I’d loosely kept in touch with. Edward Chesney had one of the fastest growing law firms in the country. He practiced law in California as well as New York City. I made the call and the two men hit it off. It was a good thing. The first thing Chesney and his team had Trent do was set up a rigid budget, forcing him to live on a middle class salary for most of his career. The one cut short. That budget was meager considering he had the assets of a millionaire. This arrangement was the only reason Trent was still able to live in his Alpine mansion—ironically across the road from Stenton Rogers—after his dismissal from the league.

  Times had been rough, but Trent had been faithful in his walk with Christ. He attended service and volunteered where he could. His monthly stipends maintained him, but barely. But he paid his tithes and stayed out of trouble. He’d been pretty much a loner. His jokes about his light features were just that. No matter his unemployment status, the women fell at the feet of Trent Bailey. He just didn’t pay them much mind after falling into the bowels of depression. The silver lining in Trent’s story was that he’d already had a relationship with Christ before his life spun out of control. It was just a matter of him plugging back in. And he did. I’d begun counseling him during his trial. Even during his conviction, I remained, providing the service for free. His soul was far more important than money. I’d discharged him last winter.

  I didn’t realize this abstract dream would hit him so hard. I checked the time to be sure I was still on track to meet Thaddeus at the church so we could travel to my next appointment together.

  “Trent—”

  “My old agent called me,” he spoke through his hands as he cupped his face. “First thing this morning. He was blowing up my phone, trying to catch me before I headed out for my morning workout. I thought it was strange, E, because even though we’ve kept in touch, he doesn’t call that early.” His hand dropped from his face. “He got an email saying the league wants to consider reinstating me. They’re thinking about bringing me back and want me to come in and sign paperwork to use their facilities to train. Pete, my old agent, said it would be their way of looking at me on the low to see if I still got it, but…”