Dangerous Bonds

by Shani Greene-Dowdell

  I wasn't surprised to discover she lived in the city, which was about an hour's drive from my home. That would explain why I hadn't seen her before, even though I'd seen her friend several times.

  I pulled up in front of her apartment building. It was neat and clean and a bit on the upscale side; my rusty pickup stuck out like a sore thumb in front of it. Part of me was surprised she even took me up on my offer. Most professional women wouldn't give a redneck like me the time of day. Glad she was willing to take a chance.

  She buzzed me in and I headed upstairs with a bouquet of roses in my hand. Another first for me, but I was going all out. I had this nagging feeling that somehow I was going to screw this up and I needed all the positive collateral I could get when I did. When she opened the door, my jaw dropped. She wore a sleeveless black dress with lace covering the top of it and her hair down and to the side. "You look amazing," I breathlessly said, gasping at her beauty and thinking it was some crude joke that she agreed to go out with me. I felt out of her league and needed to be on my best behavior with her.

  She smiled as she took the flowers from me. "Thank you.” She took a whiff of the roses and smiled. “Come in, while I put these in some water."

  Her place looked just like I imagined. A strange combination of sleek and cozy that somehow fit her. There was a place for everything. At the same time, it felt welcoming, like it wouldn't be hard to find a place for me too. She came out of the kitchen with the flowers in a vase. She placed them on the table and was ready to go.

  When we got to my truck, I held the door open for her. I hoped there wasn't anything in there that might get her dress dirty. I was wearing a suit jacket, usually something I'd only do if someone had just died, but I figured it was a requirement for the restaurant I was taking her to.

  We pulled up in front of the restaurant, and I handed the valet my keys. He looked down at them, then at me, and then at my truck. I gave him a look that strongly suggested he park my truck without opening his mouth. He took my suggestion to my relief. I didn’t think Kemara would appreciate it if I got into a fist brawl with the valet concierge before we went into the restaurant.

  After we took our seats, I could tell something was wrong. Kemara read the menu with her face all pinched up like she was looking at a bad report card.

  "What's wrong?"

  It hit me that maybe she didn’t like Mexican food. I didn’t even ask her if she did, I just planned the date and went with it. I opened my mouth to inquire and to suggest we p;could go somewhere else. There was a nice Steakhouse just a few streets back, but she didnp;;/0;’t let me get my words out.

  "Please don't get offended when I ask this, but how can you afford this?" She looked at me, one eyebrow raised and her mouth slightly agape.

  Well, that was certainly not what I thought she was going to ask.

  "I'm a drug dealer," I said, delivering the line with a straight face and a perfectly flat voice. I amazed myself at how easily I said it. Poor Kemara looked like she was going to have an aneurysm then and there, so I couldn't hold my straight face for long. I laughed. "I'm just kidding. I work and I had some money saved up. That's all." I shrugged, playing it off, but she didn’t seem at all convinced.

  "You're spending your savings to take me out?" she asked. Her face was solid, not a splash of amusement in her eyes.

  "Yeah, you're worth it. Aren't you?" I asked, smirking, so it could hopefully lighten the mood.

  She rolled her eyes. "If you say so." Even her mock annoyance was adorable. “I would have been happy with a pool hall, but that’s beside the point.” She looked back at her menu and I listened to her words. So, the good thing about that was, she wouldn’t expect this all the time, but I wanted to get the conversation off the prices of the date and onto something that was less intimidating.

  "So, what do you do?" I asked, just wanting to make simple conversation, not trying to measure exactly how far out of my league I actually was.

  She looked up from her menu and closed it, then pushed it off to the side. "I work with insurance claims, what about you?"

  "Construction."

  She grinned. "I figured. How else do you explain all those muscles?" She reached across the tiny table and felt my arm, which I instinctively flexed for her.

  "All that lifting I did in prison."

  Once again, her mouth fell open.

  I laughed, seeing her surprised expression. "If you're going to keep making it this easy, then I'm not sure I'll be able to stop."

  She leaned back in her chair and laughed. That sound was so beautiful, I would make jokes all night to hear it again and again. Plus, it was good to get away from the talk of whether I could or couldn’t afford this place. Whatever sacrifice I had to make was worth knowing she was happy.

  We sat there drinking fine wine, which I honestly liked less than the stuff I get from a box, and talking about our lives—work, friends, and families. I left out a few details about my family and friends to avoid wearing the fine wine that cost me two days’ pay and tasted like rot. Other than that, there wasn't much I kept hidden. There was something about her that just made it easy to talk.

  She was telling me about her sister and the jerk she married when she mentioned her sister being upset about us going out.

  My face fell.

  "Why's that?" I asked.

  A knot tightened in my stomach. She probably didn't like the idea of her fancy exec sister dating a construction worker. I didn't really have a comeback for that.

  "She says there is only one thing white guys are interested in when they date black girls."

  I nearly choked on the shitty wine. She had to be kidding. Not to be arrogant, but I'm a hot guy in a small town full of single women; I can order up pussy like it's pizza. I chuckled. "If all I was interested in was getting laid, there are a lot of easier ways than trying to date a black woman in Chambers County."

  It took milliseconds to realize I said the wrong thing. Her face went deadpan. I fumbled for words to try to rescue what I was sure was now the shortest date of my life. "I just meant—"

  "Well…I think it was perfectly clear what you meant." If she sounded angry, I would have had at least some hope. There was no emotion in her voice, at all. She'd put up her walls and I wasn't sure I'd be able to scale them. She wiped her mouth and stood up from the table. "Thank you for the lovely dinner, but I'll be going now."

  She started to leave. I dropped the contents of my wallet, over five hundred on the table so I could chase after her without getting arrested. I caught up with her just outside the restaurant.

  "Kemara, wait."

  She kept walking.

  It was miles to her place, so I knew she wasn't going to walk all the way home in heels. But she could walk over to a major street and catch a cab. If she got in that cab before I convinced her not to, that would be the last time I saw her.

  "At least let me drive you home," I pleaded. I wasn’t about to let her walk away from me, because of something she might have misconstrued.

  "No, thank you. I'll be fine." She kept walking as if I hadn't even spoken. She was going to reach a major street soon. I had to stop her.

  I knew it would be a risk. She could flip out on me, but I was desperate, I had to try something. I grabbed her by her shoulders and forced her to face me. "Tell me what I said that was so horrible that it’s unforgivable."

  "If dating me is causing you so much hardship, then please, don't let me burden you with my presence." She didn’t even look me in the eyes and I felt horrible to see the pain on her face.

  "Oh, come on. You know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just being honest. Dating someone outside of your race causes complications, like someone's sister assuming I'm a bad guy without even knowing anything about me." I shrugged. “It’s just the way of the world.”

  “So? That doesn’t mean I’m going to be hard to date. It’s not about what my sister wants, it’s about what I want.”

  I heaved a sigh and tilted my head,
looking for some sign that she could forgive me. “I’m sorry for saying that, Kemara. Okay?”

  Her eyes fell to the ground and her shoulders went lax in my grip. "I suppose you have a point. There were some theatrics involved in the way I jumped up and ran out of the restaurant," she said and looked up at me. I chuckled when I saw the smile slowly come back to her beautiful lips. She then laughed and, for a moment, we were both on that sidewalk laughing over the way things went down in the restaurant. No longer fueled by a raging desire to get away from me, she began to rub her arms.

  I took off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Her eyes met mine and she softened and we were back in good graces. We walked back slowly towards the restaurant. When we reached the door, the valet brought me my truck. I reached into my wallet and realized I had dropped every dollar I had on the table. I didn't even have enough to pay him.

  I looked at Kemara, and I was sure the agony of the question I had to ask showed on my face. "Do you have a twenty I could borrow?" I asked. I felt like such a heel, and again the fear that I wasn’t worthy of this woman came flooding back in my mind.

  She dug a twenty out of her purse and handed it to me. There was no judgment in her eyes, unlike the valet who must have been biting his tongue not to say I knew you weren't shit.

  I hopped in the truck and just wanted to get out of there. I probably broke the speeding limit five times to get Kemara home. Even though in the end she forgave me of my slip, having to borrow money from my date...I was beyond humiliated.

  I pulled up in front of her apartment.

  "Would you like to come up for some coffee?" she asked. When she looked at me, she gave me an encouraging smile.

  I quirked a brow. For someone who was worried I was only after one thing, inviting me up to her place seemed like a strange plan. "When you say coffee, do you mean actual coffee or—"

  She chuckled softly, her laugh echoing through the truck. "I mean, given your expression, if I let you drive off before you come up to my apartment, then I'll probably never see you again."

  I chuckled. She had a point there, but I couldn’t show all my cards. "It's that bad, huh?"

  "When you couldn't pay the valet, you looked as though you'd just lost a parent.” She reached over and touched my hand. A shot of electricity ran through my body when our hands connected. I looked down at her fingers, before looking back her way. “What happened?" she asked. She didn’t look like she was judging me, just that she was curious.

  "I didn't have time to pay the bill, so I just dropped all my cash on the table before running after you."

  She slowly pulled her hand back. An upset expression took over her eyes. "Oh…then it was my fault. I'm so sorry."

  "Nah, it wasn't your fault. Don't worry about it. I would do it all over again. No regrets,” I said. “And sure, I'd love to come up and have some coffee."

  I tend to drink coffee to make it through a hard day of work. After I've been up all night drinking, it usually tastes like tar. But it's doing a job, so I don't care.

  Kemara and I got out of the truck. I went to her, reached out and grabbed her hand. She smiled as she took my hand in hers and we quietly headed up the steps to her apartment. A white elderly man came out of an apartment and Kemara immediately greeted him.

  “Good evening, Lewis,” she said.

  He nodded, but his eyes widened when he noticed Kemara and I holding hands. “Good evening,” he quietly stated, before we reached her door and she unlocked it.

  Once we got inside, she let my hand fall from hers. “Follow me,” she said, motioning with her head for me to follow her to the kitchen.

  I tried to ignore the fact that her neighbor gave us a look that we were doing something wrong and followed her to the kitchen. “You have a nice place,” I said, not remembering if I had mentioned it when I came to pick her up.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks!” She then turned back to get the coffee.

  Kemara had a coffee press, with every flavor of coffee you could think of. She prepared us both a brew, then poured the two mugs and handed me one. I thanked her and we took them to the living room.

  So, there I was sitting on her couch drinking some caramel nutmeg concoction and I couldn't have been happier. It was nice just to talk to her in the relaxed setting, no more trying to impress, just two people trying to get to one another.

  As the night wore on and she put her stocking covered feet in my lap, I gave her a foot rub and the conversation continued. If I ever told my friends about that night, they wouldn't believe me. Yet, all we did was talk. We laughed. We shared our dreams and our fears. Like I said before, there was something about her space that just invited me in. I opened up when I was with her. I didn't notice how long we'd been at it until sunlight began to flow through her windows.

  "Have we been talking all night?" she asked, following my gaze.

  I smiled. "I guess we have."

  It didn’t seem possible, but just being there with Kemara made time pass by quickly and it was with little effort. I hated the date had to end, but knew it wouldn’t be our last.

  Chapter Seven

  Kemara

  After realizing that it was morning already, I glanced at Channing. He was the perfect gentleman and it cemented the fact that Tameka was all wrong about his intentions.

  “Do you have somewhere to go?” I asked Channing, who was reclined on my sofa with my feet still propped in his lap. After a comfortable night together, sitting on the couch talking about life, I was truly amazed at how well we clicked. I didn’t want our date to end.

  “Not really, but I’m afraid if I stay any longer I’ll have to start paying rent.”

  “For company like yours, I wouldn’t charge much,” I giggled.

  Channing rubbed my feet one last time before releasing them. He gently placed my feet on the floor. He stood and pulled me to stand with him. He donned his dress jacket and said, “That’s good to know, especially when I just got done paying off the valet bill with a night-long foot massage.”

  “You didn’t owe me anything for the valet, but we can definitely call it even with that wonderful foot massage. If I weren’t sleepy, I’d probably be able to do a five-mile jog with these new feet.”

  Channing’s eyes went to my feet. Then, his hazel eyes found mine and he stared. “Seriously, the pleasure was all mine. I’ll rub your pretty feet anytime you would like me to.” He raised his rugged, manly hands. “I’m at your service.”

  “Hmmm…Is that right?” I asked softly.

  A heated stare blazed from his hazel eyes and he was silent for a bit. “Ah, yeah. I probably should go, before I kiss you,” he admitted. His words were barely above a whisper.

  I thought about those words, feeling disappointed that he didn’t take the opportunity to put his lips where his words were. I waited all night for him to do just that. There were times when our conversation led in the direction of intimacy, but Channing never crossed the line. A man as handsome as Channing, I was sure he was used to getting to the finish line with every woman he dated. However, he was respectful and that made me open to him more. Even though I wanted something a little more from him, it proved how great he was. Also meant I might have to be the first one to take the initiative, and I was alright with that too.

  I grabbed his jacket and tugged at it. He smiled and willingly inched his head toward mine and our lips connected for a soft kiss. It was sweet, intimate, and sensual. When our lips parted, we both smiled. “Thank you for such an amazing extended date,” I said.

  “Amazing is the word for it. Let’s do it again sometime soon. Maybe the next time we can have dinner back here. Looks like you have a good range in there.” He smirked and I could read between the lines on that one.

  “Are you asking me to cook you dinner, Channing?”

  He shrugged. His sexy gleam was in his eyes. “Hey, I’m a little old fashioned. I like to see if a woman can burn in the kitchen. So, what do you say?”

&nbs
p; “I say you’re on for me cooking the next date, and you cooking the next one after that.” I arched my eyebrow to see how he would react to the thought of him having to cook.

  “Hot damn, you’re telling me that you see two more dates in our future?” he asked with a wink.

  I laughed and shrugged. “Well, I know that foot massage was really pretty great, so I’d be alright if it was to happen again.”

  He chuckled, and I walked him to the front door. At the door, he turned to me. “I had a really good time last night just talking.”

  I nodded. “I did too. It was relaxing,” I said.

  He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to stick around and have another go round with a kiss, but he didn’t go for it. “Have a good day at your parents, Kemara,” he stated, opening the door and stepping outside.

  “Have a good day yourself,” I whispered as he walked away from me and headed away from my apartment. I waited until he was out of view, before I shut the door behind him. I fell back against the door and smiled. That was definitely a night I wouldn’t forget.

  I pushed myself away from the door and was headed towards my bedroom, when I heard my cellphone signal a text message. I grabbed the phone out of my pocket and saw his name displayed with his message.

  Channing: Just checked my calendar and I’m free every night for the next month. When are you up for cooking? :)

  I laughed and walked over to the window, where I peered out and found his truck parked. He was in the driver’s seat. I found it humorous that he was that excited to get the second date set up.

  Me: lol…hmmmm…impatient much?

  Channing: Well let’s just say that I get hungry easily and already thinking of your cooking.

  I laughed and found myself submerged in wanting to hang out every minute I could with this man. I didn’t even bother checking out my calendar. I would work everything around it.