He parked outside the wooden fence, entering the gate to walk up the cement path dividing the dozen or so plots. His unhurried steps took him directly to the most recent of the plots: his parents’ and Nana Lil’s. He kneeled beside his grandmother’s elaborate headstone because she was the one he had dreamed of two weeks ago.
In the dream she had been right on the money about Anika coming to Holtsville, and at first that had spooked the hell out of him. He considered himself a pretty liberal thinker, and being from the South he had heard plenty of stories about people seeing deceased family members after they’d gone on, but a dream that foretold of events to come? A future with Anika as his wife and the mother of his children. Coincidence? Maybe.
Deshawn swatted the crisp, burnt leaves from atop her grave with his hand. “I do love her, Nana. I finally realized it today as soon as I laid eyes on her. Anika has the kind of smile that makes a man—no, that makes me—feel good. She has the most beautiful brown eyes and she’s so confident, conceited even . . . but in a good way,” he finished with a laugh. Deshawn looked off into the distance, his eyes filled with his thoughts of her. “She’s smart and funny. She fights for those who can’t fight for themselves. She cares about others. She cared about me. That week in New York she made me feel like I was the only man alive as far as she was concerned.”
Deshawn released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I loved when she would pull my head in her lap and rub it, or when she would stare at me with those big brown eyes and tell me how fine I am to her. God, I loved when she would touch me. I’d get goose bumps. This woman is special. She’s everything I’ve been looking for yet was scared to find,” he finished with a deep husky timbre to his voice.
“I need a sign right now from you. I want to believe, but I have doubts. Was I just dreaming or exhausted and imagined it all? Did you really come to me? How did I know Anika was coming to Holtsville? I don’t know, Nana Lil, I really don’t know. Send me a sign, if that was really you,” he said softly, shifting his eyes to her headstone as if that would help conjure her up.
He waited but nothing happened. No opening of the skies. No sudden gushes of wind. No thunder, no lightning. No sign of Nana Lil. Nothing.
His eyes were troubled as he looked to the clear azure skies. He’d always been taught that the glorious heavens floated infinite miles above the clouds, and he certainly believed that all of his ancestors, including Nana Lil, watched over him from above.
What if?
∞
Anika was glad for the time alone when Devon arrived to take Chloe to an afternoon doctor’s appointment. She needed the time to compose herself. Even now, hours after she had last seen Deshawn, her nerves were still rattled by the handsome devil.
As she hung her clothes in the walk-in closet, her thoughts were filled with ways to emotionally survive being around him again. Sexually, she was and would always be his prisoner. She craved him even now. But she absolutely refused to let anyone know that.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t ignore him forever, not without drawing unwanted attention to the fact, especially with him eating the majority of his meals at Chloe’s. She was just going to have to grin and bear him.
It was all so frustrating. She had been the strong one who couldn’t be fooled. She had always been the one to tell other women: “Girl, how did you miss the signs?” And now she had let herself be used by a man who was so obviously a womanizer. She had seen his playboy ways a mile away like a two-hundred-foot brick wall and still she had walked face-first into his seduction. Even with everything Chloe had told her about his active social life, she had let a warm look in his coal eyes and a hot touch steer her away from her determination not to be drawn in by him.
Well, not again, Anika told herself as she placed the last outfit in the closet. It wasn’t the first time she had put her trust, her body, and her heart into a man and had been let down. Once she had almost lost far more than her pride. Still, she swore Deshawn would not get another chance. “First time, shame on you,” she began, her husky tone serious. “Second time, shame on me.”
Anika was walking into the kitchen to prepare a surprise dessert for dinner when the doorbell chimed. She pushed away her devilish thoughts about putting laxatives in Deshawn’s helping of double-mocha walnut brownies as she opened the elaborately carved door.
Anika’s senses were immediately overwhelmed by the voluminous arrangement of flowers the deliveryman held in front of him. A breeze from behind him blew in the strong scent of roses. Her eyes began to water and her throat itched like the devil. “Oh hell,” she swore, just before she sneezed.
“Ms. Foxx?” the man asked, pushing the floral arrangement toward her. “These are for Ms. Foxx.”
Anika covered her mouth and nose with her hand just before she sneezed again. She immediately took a step back, her ankle nearly twisting in the high- heeled boots she wore. “Please . . . no,” she said, her voice smothered by her hand. “I’m allergic.”
The young man looked apologetic. “To roses?”
Anika sneezed again, just as her skin began to itch terribly. “Look, just take them away,” she told him, already reaching for the handle to close the door.
“What should I do with them?” he asked, placing a foot in the doorway.
Anika raised a finely arched brow. “Do you really want me to answer that?” she asked, her tone ominous.
He immediately removed his foot and Anika closed the door. Her thoughts became centered on finding Benadryl in Chloe’s medicine cabinet. She had just started down the hall when she turned suddenly and headed for the door. With quick, long strides, she snatched the door back open to see the deliveryman placing the bouquet back in his brightly colored van. “Excuse me,” she called out to him, scratching at a spot on her elbow. “Who sent those?” As if I don’t already know.
He opened the small envelope and removed the card. “It says: ‘My fight for your love has just begun,’ and it’s signed D.”
Anika rolled her swollen eyes heavenward and sneezed.
∞
Deshawn dressed with care for dinner, wanting to make a good impression on Anika. After a long hot shower he sprayed on his Pleasure cologne before dressing in a loose-fitting V-neck cashmere sweater and silk lined wool trousers both in his signature charcoal gray. His hand-stitched black leather belt and Italian shoes completed his ensemble. It certainly was a far cry from the sweats he usually wore to Dev and Chloe’s for dinner.
He checked his appearance in the mirror one last time. His smile was broad, filled with confidence with his dimple in place. He looked damn good and he knew it. He had to boost himself because he knew he had one hell of an uphill struggle to win Anika back.
Brrriiinnnggg.
Deshawn turned at the sound of the phone, already knowing that he didn’t plan on answering it. He walked around the room gathering his wallet and keys even as the phone continued its shrill cry. The answering machine clicked on as he selected an overcoat from his closet. And he was sliding his arms into the sleeves of the leather jacket when Poochie’s sultry sex-kitten voice filled his bedroom.
“Hey, Deshawn. Just thought I’d call and check up on you. We haven’t hooked up in a while and I was thinking ’bout how good it was. I’m here naked in my tub,” she purred.
His movements immediately ceased.
“What I wouldn’t give to have you. Right here. Right now. My mom’s working third shift so I’m here all alone. If you get this message within the next ten minutes come over. I’m gonna sit right here in the tub waiting on you. The door’s unlocked.”
Deshawn didn’t hear the rest of his ex’s message. He was already out of his bedroom and descending the stairs quickly. It was not a steamy, reunion romp with Poochie that was on his mind. Instead, he was eager to get to a nice dinner at his brother’s with Anika at the table.
He was anxious to see her again. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought back on the night they shared in New York. It w
as like nothing he had ever experienced, even with all of the women he had been associated with in his past. No one could touch what he shared with Anika. None before her could compete, including Poochie. He believed that none after her would either.
But there will be no more, Anika is going to be your wife.
That thought entered his head easily and it sat well with him. Anika was a rare find. She was what he needed. The first few months after he had returned from New York and failed in reaching her had been pure torture for him. He had missed her touch, her look, her smile, her sex . . . Oh, the sex.
Deshawn swore to have her back where she belonged: in his life.
He hummed Nelly’s “Hot in Her re” as he turned his truck onto the drive. He was on his way up the walkway when he remembered the bouquet of half a dozen roses he left on the passenger seat. Quickly he dashed back to retrieve it.
“I know the two dozen I sent earlier had to soften her up,” he said with confidence to himself. “These will be the icing on the cake.”
∞
Anika double-checked her face in the hallway mirror. Luckily her exposure to the roses had been minimal and the hives she feared did not appear. She was about to head into the kitchen to check on her cooling gourmet brownies when the lights of an automobile flashed against the foyer’s wall.
That’s probably Deshawn.
She hated the nervous butterflies in her stomach. Get it together, girl, she told herself. She was about to go into the living room where Chloe and Devon were, when the door opened.
Their eyes met briefly, before her eyes dropped to the flowers he held in his hand.
“These are for you,” he told her, stepping forward.
“I’m allergic to roses,” she told him, forcing coldness into her voice as she took a step back, “you Neanderthal.”
Deshawn’s eyes cooled a bit. He understood her anger at him, but that didn’t stop him from being annoyed by her constant rude attitude, especially when he was trying to make amends. “You can’t stay mad at me forever, Anika,” he told her, dropping the flowers onto the foyer table.
“Watch me,” she said, turning to strut away from him and his overwhelming presence.
“I’m not going to let you,” he finished, reaching out to hold her wrist. “Look at me, Anika.”
But she ignored his command, unsuccessfully attempting to remove his warm grasp from her wrist. “Look, Deshawn, you had your fun. You proved your point. Just leave me the hell alone,” she said, her voice low and her lips tightly drawn.
As his eyes caressed the angry lines of her face, a part of him wanted to tell her that he would leave her alone, but his love won over his frustration. He tried to pull her closer, but she resisted. He wanted her body wrapped securely in his arms. He wanted to be blessed by one of her luscious kisses and warmed by the brilliance of her smile. He wanted to make love to her until she was weak and unable to resist him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, because he did.
The feeling overwhelmed him, sending delicious waves across his body. His stomach clenched and his heart felt light in his chest. He knew that this woman was meant to be his woman.
He licked his lips; his mouth was dry as he released her. He wanted her to come to him of her own free will. What could he do to make her believe him? How could he convince her to give him a chance to explain? What words could he say to express the love he felt for her? All that he could say was, “Anika, I swear, I love you—"
She turned her head to look at him before the rest of his words were out of his mouth. “Damn, Deshawn, you’ll say anything to get a woman in your bed, won’t you?” she said snidely, before walking away from him with angry strides.
Deshawn was pained by the hint of hurt that flashed in her eyes before she again shielded her emotion. He caused that pain and he knew it. But he also knew that he fell for the luscious beauty in New York, and over the past months his feelings had only deepened. He loved her and he was going to convince her that he was one playboy ready to make a change.
Chapter 11
Love No Limit
The following morning, Anika stretched her voluptuous nude body beneath the crisp cotton. She relished the comfort of the down queen-sized bed and the feel of the luxury linen against her bare skin, caressing her like a long-lost lover. Chloe had the most com extravagant fifteen hundred count sheets a woman could buy.
After one languid stretch she reached over to turn off the portable radio softly playing. It was the only way she could slumber in the South. She hadn’t quite acquired the ardor of having little night creatures serenading her to sleep. The sultry slow jams playing on 100.9 FM would have to suffice.
And sleep she did. Not one silly nightmare or errant thought had been in sight all night. She wished she could enjoy the same peace all the time and not be plagued by a past that she couldn’t forget. Easier said than done.
Shaking off the sadness that threatened to settle around her like a cape, she strode to her adjoining bathroom. Choosing to take a shower, Anika closed the glass door of the separate stall behind her. As she inhaled the steaming hot water she focused on the task of washing and not letting her mind fill with her man troubles, be they past or present.
Once she finished her shower and gave herself a facial, she dressed in jeans and a burnt-orange Hilfiger sweater before heading out of the room to find Chloe. She found her in the kitchen, busy stirring in a pot on the stove and looking quite pretty in her lavender maternity top and dark jeans. Chloe completely destroyed the sophisticated mother-to-be look with fluffy pink slippers. “Good morning, butterball,” she teased, moving quickly to peer over Chloe’s slender shoulder.
“Mornin’. Your breakfast is in the stove.”
“Lima beans?” Anika asked, curious at the contents of the pot. “At nine a.m.?”
“It’s for the twins’ hunting club lunch.” Chloe rubbed her lower back as she felt a muscle spasm. “Whoo, this baby is hell on my bladder. Hold this.”
She took the slotted spoon Chloe handed her before she strode quickly toward the nearest bathroom. Sitting the spoon down, Anika spotted an open ceramic container full of rice. By the time Chloe returned, she had rinsed the large serving of rice and had it on the stove steaming.
“Thanks, girl,” Chloe told her. “Devon tried to talk me out of cooking, but I wasn’t having it. It’s my turn to fix lunch for the club this week and I wasn’t about to ask another of the wives or girlfriends to do it. That man thinks I’m handicapped now that I’m pregnant.”
Anika took her warm plate from the oven with a quilted mitt and sat at the glass and wrought-iron table. It wasn’t long before she was devouring the banana walnut pancakes and bacon. “You should be taking it easy, Chloe,” she told her around a delicious mouthful.
“I do,” she said, also taking a seat at the table. She reached for one of Anika’s slices of bacon. “I take naps and my prenatal vitamins and I eat right, but I’m not about to sit around and play incompetent. That’s not my shtick and you know it.”
“True,” Anika agreed. “But there’s nothing wrong with a man who wants to pamper you. Plenty of women have to go it alone during their pregnancy, so know you’re blessed with a wonderful husband and don’t complain.”
Leave it to Anika not to let anything be taken for granted. Chloe’s eyes got a faraway look as she let her thoughts drift to Devon. To think they had hated each other at one time, and now they were inseparable. Never would she have imagined her life filled with southern ease and a southern man. She was a famous supermodel who would rather lie in Devon’s arms than go to a celebrity event. A goofy smile crossed her lips. “You’re right.”
“I know I am,” Anika said playfully with confidence. “I hope when my Mr. Right comes along that he has me smiling like that.”
Chloe turned focused eyes on her friend. “Just don’t let Mr. Right slip by you.”
Anika diverted her luminous eyes, concentrating on cutting the soft stack of flapjacks with her f
ork. “Believe me, I haven’t.”
Chloe would have absolutely loved for Anika and Deshawn to find the same happiness she had . . . with each other. Imagine two childhood friends marrying twins. It was something little girls dreamed of growing up.
But it was more than that for Chloe, she had seen the chemistry between them in New York. Somewhere, somehow, something had gone wrong between them. But Anika was what Shawn needed to settle him down. Strong, loyal, and loving. Still, she wasn’t going to play matchmaker. They were two grown people and she certainly was not going to force them to like one another and be together. She couldn’t help but ask, though, “Sure?”
“Positive,” Anika answered firmly, rising to wash her plate and glass in the soapy water already in the sink. “So Devon’s hunting, huh?”
Chloe laughed at Anika’s obvious change in subject. “Yeah, he and Deshawn are in a deer hunting club. I’m just glad Nana Lil taught me how to cook deer meat. The twins love it smothered down in gravy with potatoes over rice. I’ll probably cook it tomorrow before they get to begging.”
Anika didn’t even try to hide her displeasure. “Deer? You mean they’re in the woods hunting down Bambi?”
“Deer meat is good, girl, if it’s cooked right. Now, I haven’t tried squirrel or possum yet—”
“Squirrel? Possum! ” Anika shrieked. “No, thanks. I like my meat government inspected and stamped with approval, thank you very much. Besides, ain’t no way I’d eat a rodent.”
Chloe just laughed.
∞
“Damn, Shawn, what’s on your mind?” Devon asked, his tone clipped as his twin missed yet another opportunity to take a shot. The eleven-point deer sprinted away with agility. “Shawn. Shawn?”
Heavenly Match Page 13
