by Tina Martin
She glared at him. “I’m not about to argue with you in front of the babies, so you can forget about it.”
“Argue? I haven’t been in an argument with a woman since—” He thought for a moment and continued, “Actually, I’ve never been in an argument with a woman. I have other ways of dealing with my frustration. But that’s irrelevant at the moment. Right now, I want to talk with you.”
“About?”
“Your obvious attitude towards me. If you don’t like me, that’s fine. I’m a big boy. I can handle it, baby, but that doesn’t mean you can just talk to me any kind of way and think I’m cool with it. I’m telling you, I’m not.”
“And I’m telling you I have no interest in talking to you at all.”
He took slow steps her way. “And I’m telling you that’s not acceptable. Like it or not, we have to see each other quite frequently.”
“No we don’t. You proved that for an entire year. Anytime I showed up to one of your family’s events, you left. And, from what I understand, you would call people to see if I was in attendance at a particular place, and if I was, you wouldn’t show up at all. Why don’t you continue doing that, Desmond? It was working really well.”
So she knew. He couldn’t dispute it. He had been avoiding her, but she wouldn’t understand the reason why. She wouldn’t get it if he told her that being around her made him desire things he didn’t feel he wanted or was ready for – like children, a home and especially a wife. And it didn’t help matters that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Even now, staring at her pouty, pink lips had him thinking about kissing them.
“This is ridiculous,” Sherita mumbled, certain Desmond hadn’t heard her. She had to get out of the house. This co-babysitting was not a good idea as she suspected it wouldn’t be. “After I feed Ezra and Grace, I plan on taking them to Carrier Park to take some pictures for Emily and Melanie. They always talked about getting photos of them together, but with everyone’s busy schedule, it hasn’t happened yet. So that’s what I’m doing.” She blew a distressing breath, and deciding to be the bigger person, she said, “I appreciate you agreeing to help out with the babies, but we obviously do not work well together, so I’m going to distance myself from this.”
Desmond stood there, holding her gaze, not saying a word and not even showing any sort of expression on his face. Maybe he was a bit too pushy. Too forthcoming for her taste.
Sherita held his serious gaze for as long as she could stand until she couldn’t handle it anymore. Until she was intimidated by his presence. His aura. Was he happy? Annoyed? Indifferent? She had no clue. “Well, I’m going to get Ezra’s bottle, and I may as well warm Grace’s milk while I’m at it. Can you hold Ezra for a moment?”
“Sure.”
Sherita took a few steps closer to Desmond then handed Ezra off to him. When she did, Desmond reached out to grab Ezra but his hand latched on to Sherita’s forearm before he quickly corrected and took Ezra in his grasp. The moment she felt his hand against her arm, she snatched it away. Just that simple touch sent a chill down her spine, the same way his breath against her neck had in the coffee shop this morning. How had she been able to go five years without being affected by men who tried to charm her, and she couldn’t handle this one man?
“Look at you, big guy,” Desmond said to Ezra. “Looking just like your daddy…”
He looks like you, too. It was on the tip of her tongue, but Sherita didn’t say it. She preferred to keep all communication with Desmond at a minimum. She wouldn’t talk to him anymore this evening unless it was absolutely necessary.
CHAPTER 5
After they had fed the babies, changed diapers and secured them in their car seats, Sherita carried Ezra to the car. Desmond followed behind her with Grace.
“Be sure to turn the car seat rear-facing,” she told him.
A smile came to the corner of his mouth. “Yes, I’m aware of that, Sherita.”
“Oh. I wasn’t sure, so…”
“No, it’s cool. I know you’re just making sure the babies are properly taken care of. I appreciate that.”
“Oh, and another thing…don’t let the inside of my car scare you. I have camera equipment all over the floor.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Desmond opened the rear passenger door and, just like she said, there was camera equipment on the floor – lenses, a few digital cameras, tripods, lights, batteries and what looked to be a photo umbrella. He went ahead and strapped Grace’s car seat in place, securing it.
Sherita had already secured Ezra’s seat and was sitting in the driver seat of her 2004 Honda Accord waiting for Desmond to close the back door. Finally, she would be getting away from him. She needed this space to clear the air and balance herself out again because everything about him threw her off balance, from his good looks to his not so good attitude.
Once he pushed the back door closed, Sherita started the car but felt a knot twisting in her stomach when Desmond reached to open the passenger door. What was he doing?
He got inside, closed the door behind himself then looked at her. “Ready?”
She scrunched up her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Doing his best to disguise amusement, he said, “I’m going with you to the park. Surely you need some help with the babies and all of your equipment, right?”
She could just die. “No, I don’t. I can handle it.”
“Well, I think I should go anyway.”
Of course you do. She should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy to get away from him, and now, not only did she have to deal with him at the park, but she had to be trapped with him inside of her small car. That bothered her more than anything else.
She glanced over at his long legs, his knees snug against the glove compartment. “Maybe you should take your motorcycle. As you can see, I don’t have much leg room for you.”
“I’m good,” he told her. “This is cozy.”
Cozy? Yeah, sure. This from a man who drove a motorcycle, a Mercedes jeep and a silver Bentley.
“Last chance before I drive away,” she said, hoping for a miracle.
“I’m good,” he said, reaching for the seatbelt, pulling it across his chest. When he buckled it, his hairy arm grazed her smooth one. He could’ve sworn he heard her whimper when it happened, when their skin touched. “Let’s go. You only have about an hour and a half of daylight left, princess.”
Feeling a vein pulsate at her temple, Sherita shifted the car in gear, beginning the ten-minute drive to Carrier Park. Feeling warmer than usual, she turned up the AC a little higher than where she normally had it set. She didn’t want the babies to get cold, but she didn’t want to pass out while driving either. With Desmond next to her, she was a nervous wreck, and it didn’t help matters that he was staring at her like he was making it his goal to see her sweat.
Desmond saw the moment her breathing quickened. He’d gotten this reaction from women for so long, he could pick up on it right away – on when a woman was either attracted to him or intimidated by him. Only thing is, he had yet to figure out which category Sherita fell into because he wasn’t around her long enough to make the distinction. So he purposely studied her, and he could not care less if she was uncomfortable. Besides a near rear-end experience at the coffee shop, this was the only other time he’d ever been this close to her. And boy did he like what he saw.
His eyes traced the outline of her face, zoomed in on her ripe lips, her ears and the hair she’d just stroked, raking it behind her right ear. He noticed she had three piercings in her ear and he imagined she had the same in the left. Her neck was long and elegant, leading down to a nice size, average chest. In the beige tank top she wore, her arms were visible, looked firm, but he could attest to their softness since he’d touched them. Twice. He had to talk himself out of touching her again. She’d probably run off the road if he traveled the length of her arm with his index finger.
Continuing his examination, he checked out he
r flat stomach and those small, delicate hands gripping the steering wheel. Her fingernails were painted a light pink. On her right hand, there were two silver rings – one on her index finger, the other on her pinky finger. Near her wrist, he saw a dark scar, and he wondered how she’d gotten it.
“I must have something on my face.”
“I don’t see anything,” Desmond said.
“Huh?” She asked, glancing at him then back at the road.
“You said you had something on your face.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize I said that out loud.”
“Well, there’s nothing there, but I can put something there if you would like.”
She could see him lick his lips in her peripheral vision, and the way his dimple peeped out when he smirked. “No thanks.” Sherita swore she could feel his breath massage the side of her face. Seemed he had moved closer. What on earth was he doing? Slowing to a red light, she finally looked at him and said, “Okay, what is it?”
“What do you mean?” he asked with a straight face.
“Why are you staring at me, Desmond?” she asked, watching his eyes land on her lips.
“Just a part of my process.”
Eyebrows raised, she said, “Your process?”
“Yes.”
“Your process for what?”
“For learning you. Light’s green.”
“What?”
“Go,” he said, amused. “The light is green.”
“Oh.” Sherita pressed the gas pedal. Desmond was throwing her off balance again. “Why would you be interested in learning me, whatever that means?”
“It means your mannerisms, your thought process. Things you like and dislike. Love. Hate. Things that make you feel uncomfortable.”
“And why would you be interested in that?”
He shrugged. “Just am, and by the time I’m done, I’ll know you so thoroughly, I’ll be able to decipher what you’re thinking without you having to say a word.”
Sherita laughed so hard, she felt water in her eyes. She knew Desmond was a womanizer, but comedian? “Oh, so I’m supposed to believe…” she began before laughter took over again. When she could catch her breath, she cleared her throat and said, “I’m supposed to believe you’re a mind reader now.”
“No,” Desmond said with a straight face, “But I am very good at reading people, Sherita, especially women.”
“So you’ve done this to other women?”
“I have, but not as thoroughly as I plan on doing it to you.”
This fool done lost his natural mind. Sherita shook her head. Men like Desmond were accustomed to getting what they wanted, but he had to be a world-class moron if he didn’t think she was aware of that already. “Well, thanks for the warning, and the laugh,” Sherita told him.
“You think it’s funny now, but you’ll understand what I mean when you witness it happening for yourself.”
Sure I will. “Like I said, thank you for the warning.”
“A warning won’t do you any good, princess.”
“Sure it would. When you know what time a thief is coming to rob your house, you know when to be on alert.”
“Yeah, but just because you’re alert doesn’t mean you have what it takes to fight off the thief. Maybe he’s stronger than you. Maybe he has more experience robbing than you think he does.”
She quietly digressed. Desmond wasn’t going to rob her of anything. She’d had her heart stolen by a thief once before. Now, her guard was up. And it would stay up.
Finally at the park, they got out of the car, then opened the back doors to get the babies.
“Okay, so we’re not going to go far since we don’t have strollers,” Sherita told him. She scanned the park, looking for a good place to set up. “There. We can go right over there by the willow tree. You take Grace. I’ll carry Ezra, and then you can watch them while I come back to the car to get my camera and stuff.”
“Or I can carry Ezra and Grace while you grab your equipment now.”
“Oh…right. Okay. Do that, then.”
He smiled, walking around to her side of the car with Grace, then picked up Ezra’s car seat.
Sherita scooped up her equipment, stuffing everything she thought she needed in a shoulder bag. “Okay…I think I got all I need.”
Together, they headed for the spot she’d chosen.
Once there, Desmond said, “What now?”
“Okay…umm,” she rummaged around in her bag and removed a white, ruffled blanket. “Can you spread this out? I’m thinking of lying them both here, flat on their backs and standing above them, taking a few shots.”
Desmond took the blanket, spread it out on the ground then took Grace and Ezra from their car seats, one-by-one and laid them there.
“Perfect,” Sherita said.
He stood back while watching Sherita work. She was good with the camera, taking shots of the babies at all angles, watching them stir a little. Desmond had done a phenomenal job of lying them there without waking them, but now they were waking up and Grace wasn’t a happy camper. She expressed her displeasure with being exposed to nature by a faint, whiny cry. And even her cries sounded like a pleasant melody.
“Aw, Grace, it’s okay, beautiful,” Sherita said.
“I’ll get her,” Desmond said. He dropped to the ground next to Grace, placed his face against hers and said, “Uncle Des is here, baby girl. Everything is all right, sweetie.”
Sherita took a few face shots of Desmond with the babies.
“Since you’re sneaking pictures of me with the babies, you should take pictures of the four of us. Can you set the auto-flash?”
Sherita grinned. “I’m a photographer. Of course I can.”
“Right.”
Desmond watched as she positioned the camera on the tripod, angled it towards them then walked over next to him. She sat down on the grass and picked up Ezra. Desmond was holding Grace.
“Okay,” Sherita said. “Get ready. It’s about to flash several times, so let’s do different poses.”
When the camera began flashing, they both smiled, both did a shot of them looking at the babies, then they did face-to-face shots with the babies before Desmond did something completely unexpected. He leaned in closer to Sherita, so close their faces touched. Before she could put up any resistance, the camera flashed, taking their picture.
Sherita jerked her head away from him. “What are you doing?”
“Taking pictures,” he said. “
“Let’s just pack up so we can get the babies back home,” she said, exasperated.
“We should probably pick up dinner while we’re out,” Desmond suggested.
Sherita sighed while packing her equipment. It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 6
Back at Dante’s house, they changed the babies, fed them again and rocked them to sleep. Ezra went down easy. Grace, on the other hand, had proven to be a challenge – one Desmond seemed to have no problem accepting. Sherita had watched Desmond walk back and forth with Grace, gently bouncing her in his arms and humming to her while his large hand cradled the back of her head.
For a while, Sherita observed how Desmond interacted with Grace. If a stranger saw the two of them together, they would swear Grace was his daughter. He had obviously bonded with his niece and nephew, which took her by surprise. You would think the motorcycle-riding, millionaire bachelor would be somewhere partying or, better yet, trying to spit game to some unsuspecting woman. But no. He was here. On a Friday night, rocking his niece to sleep.
“I think she’s finally fallen asleep,” he whispered to Sherita. “Where should we put them?”
“I’m going to take Ezra upstairs since he’s probably out for a few hours. You can put Grace in Ezra’s Pack-N-Play.”
“Good idea.”
Before she attempted to get up from the couch, she watched Desmond carefully lower Grace to the soft blanket. Then he took another blanket and spread it over her.
�
�Sweet dreams, baby girl,” he whispered.
“I’m going to put Ezra to bed,” Sherita said softly.
“I’ll warm dinner.”
After climbing the stairs and reaching his room, Sherita carefully lowered Ezra to the crib, made sure he was lying in a safe, comfortable position, before leaving his room. She took a moment to step into the bathroom to control her breathing. She would be alone with Desmond, again, eating dinner. How would she survive breaking bread with the man when the mere thought of being alone with him gave her palpitations? She’d nearly fainted in the car. And when he leaned against her for the photo, his face touching hers, she felt a nervous energy rip through her body – the sensation causing her to jerk. She knew he felt it. The moment she trembled, he smiled.
“How am I going to do this?” she said out loud. Then, annoyed with herself that she was even considering coming up with a strategy to avoid him, she left the bathroom and jogged downstairs. She told herself to remember who she was dealing with. He was a charmer. He was Thane all over again.
Desmond took some plates from the cupboard and placed a serving of lasagna in both. He had suggested food from his favorite Italian restaurant and since Sherita had never eaten there before, he knew this would be a treat for her. His brothers weren’t due back for another three hours, and he’d planned on using that time effectively to further probe inside Sherita’s mind.
“Everything all right?” he asked when she walked inside of the kitchen. He already had their plates on the table.
“Peachy,” she responded. She sat down at the table, watching him join her. She had been so nervous about the idea of being at the house with him, she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. She was starving, but still too nervous to eat.
Desmond sat down at the table, glanced up at her and said, “You’re not hungry?”
She looked back at him. “I am.”
He cracked a smile. “Eat.”
Sherita picked up a fork, using it to cut a slither of lasagna then took it to her mouth. She wasn’t certain about this strange energy she felt between herself and Desmond. All she knew was, she wanted to limit their conversation. He wasn’t the type of man she wanted to get entangled with.
