Her smile mirrored the one her mother wore. “I know. I’ve come around.” Hard as she’d fought to deny the attraction she felt for him, being in his arms and experiencing his skilled loving again had melted her resolve like an ice cream cone in July.
“Some folks ain’t gonna like it, though,” Alma added, turning the paper to a new section. “Women have been sniffing around him like hounds on a fox since he came back.”
She’d heard her mother speak on that subject before, but had never really been concerned about it. At least, that’s what she’d told herself. But now that she and Xavier were trying to give their relationship another shot, the last thing she wanted was to have to fend off a bunch of meddling, jealous women. “I guess I’ll just have to deal with that.” She shrugged, showing her mother far less concern than she actually felt.
“You’ll be fine.” Alma waved her hand dismissively. “No woman has ever been able to turn his head but you, baby.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks at that declaration. He’d professed desire only for her, and now her mother was corroborating his story. She wondered if things could really be as wonderful as they seemed. Her practice was off to a great start, adding new patients every week. Now Xavier was back in her life. Could she really have it all: the career, the stability, and the man of her dreams?
A smile touched her lips. She knew that whatever lay ahead for her would be infinitely sweeter as long as Xavier was by her side.
Chapter 13
Leaning against his club like a cane, Xavier watched his father set up for his next shot. Edwin stooped low, taking great care in pressing the sharp end of the plastic tee into the soil, then positioning his golf ball atop it.
Golf wasn’t among Xavier’s favorite pastimes, but his father enjoyed it. In order to get in some all-important time with his father, Xavier had taken off the whole day from work. Being at the country club instead of at his desk on a Wednesday morning felt somewhat foreign, but refreshing nonetheless.
Edwin straightened, then readied his nine iron. “Watch this, Son. This is how you do it.”
Xavier nodded, keeping his eyes on the golf ball. They’d now reached the fourth hole, and he couldn’t remember the last time he was this bored.
Edwin smacked the ball with a powerful swing. The tiny white orb went flying, landing on the ground mere inches from the hole.
As they watched, the golf ball rolled in a semistraight line toward the hole…and then kept rolling right past it.
Edwin snapped his fingers. “Dadgum. Almost had it.”
Xavier patted his father on the shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s the first shot you’ve missed today, and it’s way closer than any of my attempts.”
At that, Edwin chuckled. “You’re right about that. Despite my best efforts, boy, you are terrible at golf.”
Xavier knew better than to deny that. He couldn’t think of anybody worse at golf and had pretty much abandoned all hope of getting any better at it. That wasn’t why he’d come to the course with his father. Male bonding aside, his main motivation was distraction.
Adjusting his golf gloves, Edwin eyed him. “Son, why are we really here? Sure doesn’t seem like you’re interested in improving your game.”
As always, his dad could see right through him. “I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever be any good at it.” He wasn’t even sure where the problem lay. Did he lack coordination? Aim? Or did he just not have enough patience to learn the rules of the game?
“So why are you torturing yourself? And don’t say male bonding because we could easily do that at the house over a beer.”
Xavier groaned aloud. “I know. I’m just looking for creative ways to spend my time that don’t involve Imani.”
Edwin’s gray brow furrowed. “Why? You two have a falling out?”
He shook his head. “No, but Tyrone wants me to cool things off with her until the election is over. After that newspaper story, he got all bent out of shape.”
“That’s what campaign managers are supposed to do.” Edwin tucked his iron into his golf bag. “But as your friend, he oughta know better than to think you can stay away from her.”
Xavier followed his father’s cue and put away his own club. “Does this mean the game’s over? It’s only the fourth hole.”
Already on his way to get his ball, Edwin called back, “We both know you’ll be way happier if we end it now. We can chat in the clubhouse.”
Xavier didn’t bother to hide his smile.
Once they’d put their gear away, they got a table in the clubhouse cafe. Oakwood Acres, one of the nicest golf clubs in Raleigh, boasted a five-star clubhouse, complete with a pro shop, well-appointed locker rooms, and a few flexible spaces that were often rented out for private parties and other events. The crown jewel of the place was the cafe, which served high-end lunch, dinner, and specialty drinks.
“I know you’re miserable without her,” Edwin remarked over his steaming cup of coffee.
“I am. But I can’t really argue with Tyrone because he’s right. I need to keep my nose clean if I’m going to unseat Givens.” Xavier drank from his own glass of iced tea.
“It’s not going to be long. You’ve only got about ten days before Election Day.”
He nodded. Logic told him that the next eleven days would speed by, but to his heart, the time felt like an eternity. Stretching his arms over his head in an attempt to release some tension, he turned his head to the left, looking out over the cafe’s interior.
His gaze landed on Imani and he frowned. She looked beautiful in a long black skirt, tall boots, and a red sweater. She had her arm looped through that of a tall, light-skinned brother standing next to her, and the two of them were smiling and laughing.
Xavier’s frown deepened. He’d never known her to play golf, so what would she be doing here? And who in the hell was that guy with her?
Edwin seemed to notice his son’s staring. “What are you looking at?”
Xavier eased his chair back from the table. “Dad, am I crazy, or is that Imani over there?” Rather than point, he jerked his head in her general direction.
Edwin’s eyes swung in that direction, scanning until he found her. “Sure does look like her. But you know what they say, everybody’s got a twin.”
Xavier sincerely hoped the woman was Imani’s doppelgänger because he did not like seeing her with another man. No, she wasn’t his wife—yet. But that didn’t mean he was okay with other men pushing up on her.
He started to get up from his chair.
Edwin’s hand shot out. “Son, don’t. We’re not even sure it’s her.”
“I only know one way to find out.” His felt his frown deepen into a full-on scowl as he zeroed in on the brother, who had just brushed a lock of hair away from her face.
“Oh, come on. Think about it. If it’s not her, you’ll have embarrassed yourself for no reason. And if it is her, what do you think you’re going to accomplish?”
“Giving that guy a piece of my mind.” Jealousy rose within him, doing battle with his good judgment.
Edwin scoffed. “Oh really? So you’re going to do what? Punch that perfect stranger in the face? How many brownie points do you think you’ll get with her by being a brute?”
The reason of his father’s words finally penetrated Xavier’s anger. Drawing a deep breath, he dropped back down into his chair. “You’re right, Dad.”
“Of course I’m right. I’ve lived seventy years on this earth, and I haven’t gotten this old by being an idiot, you know.” Edwin lifted his mug to his lips again, taking another drink of coffee.
Xavier dragged his gaze away from the pair by the counter, looking out of the window instead. The table was positioned next to a wall made entirely of glass, allowing him an unencumbered view of the rolling green lawns of the course. There were a few golfers out walking on th
e green, as well as a few driving around in carts.
Edwin spoke, breaking into his thoughts. “I know you love her. But it’s up to her whether she wants to be with you. Right now, try to take a step back. You’ve got a lot on your plate, and after the election, you all can straighten things out.”
“You sound mighty certain. It’s almost like you know something I don’t.”
Edwin shrugged. “I know things always work out the way they are supposed to. Just let it be for now, Son. Everything is going to be fine.”
Looking across the table at his father, Xavier realized how much his reassurance meant to him. Even as a grown man, he found it to be a priceless gift. “Thanks, Dad.”
Only a nod and smile came in reply as Edwin opened the golf magazine on the table.
Xavier went back to looking out of the window, and while he watched the passing carts and strolling golfers, he did his best to push aside any thoughts of Imani and what she might be doing.
Because as much as he loved her, she wasn’t his pet or his property. He had no claim on her, and it was time he accepted things as they were, not as he wanted them to be.
The couple who’d been standing by the counter strolled by, still arm in arm.
As they passed, Xavier got a better look at the woman, and when he saw it wasn’t Imani, he felt the tension leaving his body.
Edwin didn’t look up from his magazine. “See? I just saved you from making an ass of yourself.”
Xavier chuckled. “Thanks, Dad.”
The experience taught him a crucial lesson. It turned out that Tyrone’s assessment was correct. Imani was a huge distraction for him. He couldn’t even focus on a glass of iced tea when it came to her, so how could he be involved with her and remain focused on his campaign?
That solidified his decision to go along with Tyrone’s edict. He wasn’t going to tell Tyrone he’d been right; Lord knew he’d never hear the end of it if he did that. But he would do his best to stay away from Imani, at least until the votes were cast and counted. After the election was off his plate, he would revisit their relationship.
“Hey, Dad, how about some stumping?”
Edwin looked up from the glossy pages of his magazine. “You mean, go around with you and shake hands so you can get the golf club vote?”
With a laugh, Xavier stood. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Edwin closed the magazine, winked at him. “Then lead the way, Son.”
* * *
Using one of her bright-orange oven mitts, Imani opened her oven door and slid out the pan of lasagna she’d put in forty-five minutes prior. Setting it on top of the stove, she closed the oven door, then lifted the foil to check it. The aroma of tomatoes, garlic, and basil wafted up from the glass pan, and she smiled as she looked at the layer of bubbly, perfectly browned cheese on top.
Replacing the foil, she left the lasagna and headed to the refrigerator to grab the ingredients for the rest of the meal. As she spread the thick, crusty slices of French bread with olive oil and spices, she thought back on the call she’d received earlier from Xavier. He’d asked if he could come over to have a talk with her, and she’d agreed, suggesting he stay for dinner. If they were going to give this relationship a shot, the least she could do was make him a nice meal on a Friday evening.
After she’d toasted the garlic bread and shredded the lettuce for her Caesar salad, she opened her tool drawer to search for her salad tongs. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her search. Wiping her damp hands on the front of her apron, she untied the strings and tossed it on the counter, then went to open the door.
Xavier stood on the cement porch with a single yellow rose in hand. He wore a pair of dark-blue jeans and a green sweater. “For you.” He smiled as he extended the rose in her direction.
With a smile of her own, she took it. “Thank you. I’m glad to see you finally got the message that I don’t have room for any more huge arrangements.”
That drew a chuckle from him. “I did, and I’m glad you like it.” He paused, inhaled deeply. “Mmm. Something smells great in here.”
“You mean besides me?” She posed the question in a teasing tone.
He leaned down, placed a soft kiss on her neck. “You always smell like heaven on earth, sweets.”
A small tremor of pleasure ran through her at the contact. “Simmer down, Xavier.”
“I mean, what’s cooking in here? My stomach is already growling.”
She stepped back to allow him entry. Once he was inside, she shut the door and locked it. “I made lasagna and garlic bread. I was finishing up the salad when you rang the bell.”
Still walking as if following the scent to the kitchen, he said, “Is it Caesar salad? You know that’s my favorite.”
She winked. “Of course it’s Caesar. I remembered.”
As he moved into the kitchen, he clapped his hands together. “Need any help?”
She shook her head. “All that’s left is to mix the salad.” Grabbing a large slotted spoon as a replacement for her lost tongs, she went to the bowl of salad she’d left on the counter and tossed the ingredients until everything was well coated.
Before she could turn to place the bowl on the table, she felt his strong form press against her back. “Look at you—smelling great, looking gorgeous, making my favorite food. A man could get used to this.”
She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “A man should be so lucky.”
He stepped back, allowing her to put the salad and the rest of the meal in the center of her small, round kitchen table. She’d already set the table with plates and glasses of iced tea.
He pulled out her chair, and she sat. “Dig in, Xavier.”
Sitting on the other side of the table, he quipped, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
They filled their plates, and the two of them enjoyed a little small talk as they ate the meal. As time went on, though, Imani noticed that something seemed off between her and her dinner companion. He’d asked to come here so they could talk, and even though he’d been there over an hour, he’d made no mention of what he wanted to discuss.
Xavier raised a forkful of lasagna to his mouth, but before he could eat it, the fork dropped from his hand and clattered to the tabletop.
Imani looked up from her plate. “Sorry, did I get olive oil on the silverware?”
He shook his head as he recaptured the fork. “No, I’m just clumsy. Let’s just say your food is so delicious, I can’t think straight.” He chuckled.
She noticed his laugh lacked the bright humor it usually held. No, this laugh sounded more like it was driven by nervousness instead of humor. Deciding not to press the issue, she continued eating her dinner.
When they’d finished the meal, she stood and started to gather the dishes.
“I’ll do that,” Xavier offered. He took their plates to the sink, and just as he arrived there, dropped them. The ceramic plates clanged loudly against the interior of the metal bowl of the sink.
Imani’s head jerked in the direction of the sink. “Xavier, what’s up with the butterfingers? Am I going to have to give you your dessert on a paper plate?”
He laughed again. “No, no. I’m sorry. I’m good now.”
She smiled, but inside she had her doubts. What is going on with him tonight? The Xavier she knew exuded charm, confidence, and sex appeal, making this bumbling version of him very unnerving.
Once he was back in his seat, she brought over two small plates containing slices of apple pie a la mode. “I hope you like it. And full disclosure, I didn’t make the pie.” She set his slice before him, then set down her own. “Would you like some coffee?”
He nodded. “Decaf, if you have some.”
“Sure. That’s the only kind I drink this time of day.” She moved around the kitchen, making preparations until she returned to the table wit
h two steaming mugs, cream, and sugar on a tray. Setting the tray down between them, she returned to her chair.
Xavier took a sip from his mug. Apparently he liked the brew black, because he smiled after the first sip went down. “Italian roast?”
She nodded while she added cream and sugar to her own mug. “Yep. It’s my favorite.”
“Mine, too.” His eyes were focused on her. He raised the cup for another sip, but this time when he went to set it down, he completely missed the table. The mug crashed to the floor, shattering and leaving a puddle of dark liquid on the light-gray tile. “Damn it. I’m sorry, Imani.”
Imani stood, rushed around the spill to get a towel.
He took the towel from her hands and squatted down to soak up the spilled coffee. She retrieved the dustpan and a small brush and began sweeping up the broken pieces of the mug.
“Xavier, what is going on with you? I think you’d better tell me what you want to talk about before you break any more of my dishes.”
Most of the mess cleaned, he raised himself back up into his chair.
She stood, leaving the dustpan full of broken mug on the floor. Looking into his eyes, she could see that something was wrong.
He sighed. “You’re right, Imani. We have to talk.”
Sensing the conversation would soon turn very serious, she flopped down in her seat. Propping her elbows on the table, she rested her chin in her hands. “Okay, what is it?”
He drew a deep breath, then launched into a speech. “So, you know when we first got together at Tyrone’s wedding, you were talking about needing your space, so you could focus on your business? And how you didn’t want to be involved right now because the timing was bad, and you thought it would be better if—”
“Xavier, stop.”
He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.
“I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve never known you to string together that many words without stopping. Why are you rambling?”
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