by Tina Martin
“What?” Dimitrius said, taking his eyes away from an email on his laptop to look at Desmond.
Dante smirked. “I thought you knew, Dimitrius.”
“I didn’t know anything about this. Des, you have a baby on the way?”
“No. I have two babies on the way,” Desmond corrected.
Dimitrius folded his laptop, set it on the table and stood up. “My lil’ brother is having twins?”
Desmond smiled. “A girl and a boy.”
“Wow! Never thought I’d see the day,” Dimitrius said, slapping hands with Desmond, patting him on the shoulder. “Wait…this is a good thing, right?”
“It is. I’m excited about it,” Desmond said.
“And how is Sherita doing?”
“So far, so good. She seems to be carrying well. We have an appointment in a couple of weeks.”
“So does this mean you are Sherita are going to stay married?” Dimitrius inquired.
Desmond sighed heavily. After taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, he said, “I went by her parent’s house this morning and spoke with her father. She comes from a good home and—” Desmond grimaced.
“What is it, Des?” Dante asked.
Desmond scrubbed his hand across his mustache and down his lips. “I try to be this confident, successful man without a care in the world and can do the most complicated and complex tasks. But I…I can’t seem to convince the woman, the only woman I’ve ever loved, that I actually love her. And what hurts the most is—” Desmond frowned, swallowed hard and shook his head. Expelling a sigh, he continued, “What hurts the most is, she’s carrying my babies, and she doesn’t think I love her.”
“Come on, Des,” Dimitrius said with his hand on Desmond’s shoulder. “Shake it off. You’ll get your girl. I don’t even know why you sound worried. You have plenty to offer Sherita and instead of stressing over what she thinks, show her what you’re really made of.”
Desmond shook his head and grinned. “See, this is why I never wanted to fall in love. Dealing with matters of the heart is too complicated.”
“It is complicated,” Dante said.
“But it’s worth it,” Dimitrius added, thoughts of Melanie and Grace on his mind.
“Very much so,” Dante said, thinking of Emily and Ezra. “Look at it this way, Des. People are willing to throw millions of dollars at you to lay out marketing strategies on their behalf. If you can do that, then surely you can convince little Mrs. Sherita you love her. But you can’t do it without showing her your heart. One thing I know about Sherita is, she doesn’t care about money. You can’t buy her love. After all, this is the same woman who turned down a million-dollar offer from me.”
Desmond nodded.
“You need to be vulnerable with her,” Dante continued. “I know that’s difficult for you because it was for me. The Champion men are strong-willed, hard-nosed and audacious by nature and, at times, our genuineness and concern can get lost in the mix of those strong, dominant qualities we possess and rub people the wrong way. So be vulnerable. Let her see your heart. She’s already shown you hers. Would you agree?”
Desmond nodded. If someone told him that he’d be getting a lesson on love from his brothers one day, he wouldn’t believe them. But here he was, getting pointers on how to love – something he’d never done before.
He was trying – he made strides to add Sherita to his house deeds and tomorrow, he’d buy her an SUV since she would need the extra room for the babies. He’d add her to his bank accounts and check with his agent to see if the offer he made on the building that would become her portrait studio had been accepted. But like Dante said, Sherita wasn’t interested in his money. She wanted his heart. Today, he’d do everything in his power to show her how much he really loved her.
“I called her this morning, by the way,” Dante said, breaking into Desmond’s thoughts.
“You called who?” Desmond asked looking up at Dante.
“Sherita.”
“Why?”
“I need a photographer for the mass wedding this weekend at the Grieving Hearts Connect Resort, remember?”
“Oh. Right,” Desmond said. Since he had let Kurt handle the marketing campaign surrounding the mass wedding this year, it had completely slipped his mind. He was busy working on the campaign for Service Swap and when he wasn’t doing that, he’d been occupied with Sherita.
“What did she say?” Desmond inquired. “Is she going to do it?”
“Yes. She said she would leave Saturday morning.”
Desmond grimaced just slightly. Why hadn’t she told him that? Yet another thing he needed to talk to her about tonight…
“Oh, and she asked me for our parent’s names,” Dante said, standing up walking over to the blinds, staring out the windows with his back to his brothers. His hands in his pockets.
“That’s odd,” Dimitrius said.
“Did she say why she wanted to know?” Desmond asked.
“She did. She, ah…” Dante took a breath, then forced it out. Turning around to face his brothers, he said, “She said she was thinking about naming the twins after them, but wanted to discuss it with you first, Des.”
“Wow,” was all Dimitrius could say at the gesture.
A tingling sensation raced through Desmond’s veins while a feeling of weightlessness had his head floating. If ever he needed a sign that Sherita was the woman he was meant to be with, this was it. He’d consider it an honor to name his children after his parents – his mother, Celeste, and father, Nolan – that he loved. He pressed fingers against his trembling lips, while a mixture of sadness and happiness glowed in his eyes. “I…I’m blown away she would even think to do something like that. How did I get so lucky?” Desmond tipped his head back, closed his eyes then, looking at Dante he said, “I think it’s a great idea.”
“Me too,” Dante responded.
“So do I,” Dimitrius said. “Nolan and Celeste Champion will live on.”
Desmond’s face brightened with a genuine, heartfelt smile. He pinched away the wetness that formed in the corner of his eyes and said, “Yes, they will.”
CHAPTER 44
Sherita wanted to cook dinner. It was nice to go out once in a while or have dinner catered, but no food was as good as a real home-cooked meal. She wasn’t sure how Desmond would react since he never cooked, but this evening, the kitchen belonged to her. She’d been craving pasta for days, so she whipped up a pan of macaroni and cheese, straight from her mother’s recipe. To go along with it, she baked a ham, some crescent rolls and made a fresh garden salad with lettuce, carrots, cauliflower, cucumbers and cherry tomatoes.
Opening the oven, she carefully took the ham out and placed it on the counter. When she did so, she felt a shiver run through her entire body. He hadn’t made a sound, but she could smell Desmond’s scent even over the pineapple-glazed ham. He was watching her. But why hadn’t he said anything? She kept on working, waiting to see if he would say something to her or was he just going to stand there and watch? When she took a long knife from the drawer, she got her answer.
“And what do you think you’re going to do with that?”
She turned around to look at him. He was leaned against the island with his arms crossed in a gray, sleeveless ARMY T-shirt, showing off his muscular arms. He wore a pair of faded jeans and no shoes. His legs were crossed at the ankles. His Hennessy-colored eyes were fixed on her.
She swallowed hard, taking him all in, all six-feet, two inches of him, standing there like a model, looking at her like he could have a serving of her on his dinner plate.
“I—” That’s all she could get out.
“You what?” he said, uncrossing his arms, walking over to her.
“I was just about to slice the ham.”
“Here…let me,” he insisted, reaching for the knife and fork she had in each hand.
“I can handle it, Desmond.”
“I know you can. I just want to help.”
“You
do?”
“Yes. I do,” he said, taking the fork and knife from her grasp. “Why do you sound surprised?”
“I thought for sure you would be irritated that I was cooking. I know how you like your food catered.”
“Yeah, well, I’m realizing I can’t be set in my ways like I’ve been, especially when I have an amazing woman like you with me.” He looked at her with a serious, pointed gaze, then smiled, returning his attention to the ham.
Sherita watched him as he sliced it. Her eyes roamed over him as they had done countless times before, and when she realized he was almost finished with the ham, she said, “What time did you get here? I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I left work a little early…got here a little after five. When I opened the door, I smelled food. I knew you were in the kitchen, so I ran upstairs and showered.”
“Oh.”
“When I came downstairs, I saw your photo albums and the ultrasound pictures on the living room table, so I sat there and looked at them. All of them.”
Sherita cracked a half smile.
“So you’re going to Pleasure Island on Saturday, I hear.”
“Yes. I told Dante I would be the photographer for the mass wedding. I was going to tell you over dinner.”
Desmond nodded. “It’s cool. I would rather you do it than anyone else. You’re very talented with a camera…talented at everything you do, Sherita.”
She met his powerful gaze and felt a flicker in her stomach. “Umm…are you hungry?” she asked, nervously.
You have no idea. “Yes.”
“Good. I’ll fix a plate for you. Have a seat.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, watching her take plates from the cabinet.
Sherita quickly returned to the table with two plates of food before grabbing two bottles of water from the refrigerator. “Would you like a glass of ice?”
He heard her question, but was so enthralled by her beauty, he seemed to have lost the ability to speak for a moment.
“Desmond?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want a glass of ice?”
I want you. “Yes. I’ll take some ice,” he answered. He would need some extra cold water to calm the flames in his heart.
Sherita grabbed a glass, filled it with ice then set it next to his plate.
“Thank you,” he told her.
“You’re welcome.”
Desmond went for the macaroni and cheese first. He dug out a healthy spoonful of it, watching strings of cheese stretch from his plate to his spoon. And when he tasted it, moans left his throat. He followed with a bite of ham, enjoying the tangy taste of the pineapple she’d baked with it. Not only was she a beauty – she could cook.
“How is it?” she asked.
“It’s delicious…best I’ve ever had.” Just like you.
“Glad you like it.”
They ate quietly for a while more. Well, she ate quietly. Desmond had been moaning and breathing hard like he’d never eaten a meal so good. And she’d look up and catch his gaze every time, seeing a different kind of hunger in his eyes. A longing…
“So what did you think about the pictures?” she asked.
Desmond dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Your photos are beautiful…shows you had an eye for a good shot even back then.”
Sherita smiled. “Thanks.”
“And as for the ultrasound pictures…I could hardly tell what I was looking at, but I know they’re my children. Do you mind if I take one of those ultrasound pictures to work?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Good. It can go next to the picture of us.”
Sherita frowned. “Picture of us?”
“Yes. You know the one we took in the park that day with Ezra and Grace? The one where I pressed my face against yours just before the flash went off…that picture.”
“Oh,” Sherita said. She knew she didn’t give him the picture, so it must’ve been Emily or Melanie. Dante or Dimitrius. Somebody gave it to him.
Desmond opened the bottle of water, poured some of it over ice, then took a sip. “So I was wondering if the babies should share a nursery or should they have separate nurseries. What do you think?”
“I haven’t thought much about it, although, I don’t see it being a problem if they shared a nursery.”
“Downstairs or upstairs?”
Sherita sighed. Why was he talking about nurseries? Did he not realize she would be moving out a little while after the babies were born? They’d discussed that. She didn’t have to leave the city, but she would leave his house. “You can put the nursery wherever you like.”
“I know I can, Sherita, but I’m asking for your input. Do you think the nursery should be downstairs or upstairs?”
She shrugged. “Put it where you think it should be. After all, this is your house.”
“It won’t be for long.”
She looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Sherita, we’ve discussed the fact that I want to be a part of my children’s lives.”
“Yes, we have and nowhere in that discussion did I say I would live with you after the babies are born, Desmond. You can be a very active part of their lives, but I can’t live with a man who—”
“A man who…” he said, prompting her to finish her statement.
A man who doesn’t love me. She saw where this was going. She knew the importance of staying stress-free during pregnancy, so instead of getting into an argument with him, she said sadly, “The nursery should probably go upstairs.”
Desmond wiped his mouth with a napkin, dropped it in his empty plate, then pushed away from the table. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and stared at her. “And what about names? Have you thought about names, Sherita?”
“I have. Not sure if Dante mentioned it to you or not, but I called him this morning to find out the name of your parents. I thought it might me a good idea to name the babies after them.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for their names?”
“Because I know how sensitive the topic is for you and—”
“Do you actually think I don’t love you, Sherita?”
“Desmond—”
“Do you? After everything?” he asked, softening his voice “Part of the reason I never wanted to marry and have children is because I didn’t want to suffer the same pain my mother suffered when my father died. As it stood, me and my brothers were already grieving the loss of our father, and then we—” Desmond’s lips trembled. “We watched our mother suffer without him until she died. She’d rather die than live without him.”
Desmond rubbed his eyes and took a breath. “After her death, I made up my mind that I would never love anyone that deeply, so I locked my heart away. Protected it. I never wanted to feel the kind of pain my Mom felt when she lost my Dad. But I feel it every time you look at me with those big beautiful eyes like you wish I could love you…like you wish I could be yours, when the reality is, I love you from the deepest parts of my soul, Sherita, and my heart no longer belongs to me. It’s yours.”
Sherita opened her mouth to say something, but words didn’t come out. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’ve begun taking steps to secure our future together, Sherita. I put your name on this house. Our home. I’m adding you to my accounts, I’m giving you everything I have, and if I could take my heart from my chest and lay it out on this table, baby, I would, but I need you to trust me and I need you to believe me. I love you, Sherita. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
With trembling lips, Sherita asked, “Are you saying this because—”
“No, I’m not saying it because you’re pregnant. I told you I loved you before I knew you were pregnant. You just chose not to believe me, but I’m asking you to trust me.”
Sherita looked down completely caught off guard by his confession.
“Look at me, Sherita.”
She looked up at him. “Two weeks ago, you said you
didn’t love me anymore, but I know that’s not true. If you didn’t love me, you certainly wouldn’t want to name our children after my parents, would you?”
Sherita dabbed her eyes. “No.”
“Then tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”
Sherita’s lips trembled.
Desmond stood up, walked to her side of the table and lowered himself to his knees in front of her. Taking her hands into his, he said, “Sherita, I’ve hurt you. I’ve played games with your heart. I’m guilty of those things.”
Sherita lost eye contact with him again, and this time, he placed his hands on her face, firmly angling her head to meet his gaze. “I hurt you. I’m acknowledging that, and I’m sorry. But now, right now, I’m as serious as I’ve ever been in my life. Tell me you want me, princess, and I’m yours. Forever. Just say it.”
Sherita gasped for air.
“Say it.”
She gasped again. “I want you, Desmond.”
A smile grew on his face. “Good, because while this food was delicious, baby, nothing tastes better than your lips. Than all of you,” he said standing, scooping her up into his arms.
Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, he’d been hovering over her, in the center of his bed, his lips parting with hers at different intervals and angles, deeply connecting himself to her physically as he was emotionally.
Desmond released her lips as he remained propped on his elbows, not wanting to lower the full weight of his body on her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay.”
“Sure?” he asked, dipping his head to graze her neck with his teeth.
“Yes, Desmond,” she whimpered. “I’m sure.”
He took another kiss from her lips. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too, Des.”
“And just so you know, once and for all time, I’m in love with you, Sherita Champion, the mother of my children, and I intend on spending the rest of my life with you, sweetheart.”
“Good, because I had no idea how I was ever going to live without you.”
Desmond kissed her again. “I love making love to you, Sherita,” he whispered in her ear. “Can’t remember if I ever told you that.”
