He let his eyes fall to her legs, just for a moment, as he took her hand from her uncle Clive’s. Trying to push away the anticipation of having those long legs wrapped around his waist, he turned to face the pastor. They spoke the words to one another, and as he held both her hands in his, he put his whole heart into his recitation. Every word felt sacred to him as he promised her forever. With everything in him, he meant those words, and he planned to spend the rest of his life showing her.
When the pastor finally gave the go-ahead, Xavier pulled his wife against him and sealed their vows with a passionate kiss, just as the sun sank below the horizon.
* * *
Imani relished the feeling of Xavier’s hand cradling hers as the two of them moved around the tent’s interior, greeting their guests. Now that darkness had fallen, the space was aglow with the light from the paper lanterns strung overhead, and the hurricane lamps sitting in the center of the tables. Ambient heaters in all four corners of the tent helped to chase away the chill that accompanied the rising darkness. Imani barely felt the coolness. The knowledge that she was now Mrs. Xavier Whitted warmed her very soul.
When they sat down at the long table reserved for them and their wedding party, she sighed with happiness. Turning her head, she found her husband watching her.
“You look stunningly beautiful, Mrs. Whitted.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss there.
“I’m glad you approve, baby.” She eyed him in his well-cut suit, not bothering to hide the desire from her gaze. “And you are looking mighty delicious yourself.”
A broad smile spread across his handsome face as he eased nearer to her. Draping his arms around her waist, he leaned in and spoke so that only she could hear. “I can’t wait to peel that dress off of you and make you scream my name.”
Feeling the heat rush to her face, she stifled a giggle behind her hand. Then she rewarded his naughtiness with a quick peck on the cheek. As she looked over Xavier’s shoulder, she could see Maxwell eyeing them. Her husband’s fraternity brother wore an amused expression as he regarded them.
Soon the space quieted as Tyrone stood to make his toast. They laughed at Tyrone’s anecdote-laden speech, and Imani dabbed at her eyes with Xavier’s handkerchief when Maya gave her matron of honor toast. As Maya walked by to return to her seat, Imani stopped her and gripped her in a tight hug. Imani was thankful to have such a wonderful person in her life.
Dinner was served then, and Imani took her time savoring the surf-and-turf meal. She thoroughly enjoyed the well-seasoned steak, buttery grilled lobster tail, and the accompanying vegetable medley. She washed the food down with several long sips of chilled champagne from her glass.
The pianist played the opening notes of “What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life?” and Xavier grasped her hand and escorted her to the center of the tent. There, as the music filled the air, she waltzed around the space in his arms. She couldn’t recall feeling happier. Her spirit felt as light as a feather, and her love for Xavier made her feel as if they were floating.
The song came to an end, and the pianist stepped away from his instrument so the DJ could take over. Once the young fella hit the turntables, folks began to rise from their seats to fill the empty space in the center. Soon, tables were pushed back, leaving a wider area of grass to act as a dance floor.
Imani reached down to unhook the train from her dress. Tossing the satin over the back of a chair, she pulled Xavier along by the hand. “Let’s dance!”
He obliged, and they joined the revelry surrounding them.
The music, the champagne, and the good company all enhanced the celebratory atmosphere of the reception, and Imani lost track of time. By the time she and Xavier rushed off to their limousine in a shower of bubbles and confetti, dawn was beginning to paint the sky with ribbons of orange and pink.
Inside the warm interior of the limo, Imani snuggled close to Xavier’s side. Taking his hand in hers, she looked at his cuffs. “Do you like the cuff links?”
He nodded, his gaze settling on the solid-gold theta symbols she’d given him as a wedding gift. “I love them. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She laid her head on his strong shoulder, loving the feel of being in his arms.
“Now it’s time for me to give you my gift.”
She looked up into his eyes, meeting his mischievous gaze. “I’m looking forward to it.”
He played his fingertips through her hair as the limousine rolled on through the city streets.
As the ride stretched on, she wondered where they were going. Since she was so caught up in the enjoyment of being wrapped in her husband’s embrace, she decided not to ask questions.
The limo finally came to a stop, and Xavier tapped her on the shoulder. “We’re here, baby.”
She peered through the window at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Where is here?”
The driver opened the door, and Xavier stepped out. With a smile, he remarked, “You’ll see.” He extended his hand, reaching inside to help her out of the limo.
Careful of her gown, she climbed out and stood. She joined hands with Xavier as she took stock of their location. They were standing in a cleared field, surrounded by a stand of pine trees. Confusion knit her brow. “It’s a construction site.”
“Yes, but not just any construction site.” With his hand firmly wrapped around hers, Xavier began walking.
They’d only taken a few steps before the wood-and-steel frame of what would soon be a very large two-story building came into view. A lone worker was present, and even he seemed out of place, since it was so early on a Sunday morning. Clad in a red-plaid shirt, jeans, work boots, and a hard hat, the man was standing in front of the frame structure, as if waiting for them.
When they approached, Xavier swung out his free hand and shook with the worker. “Harold. Thanks for coming out here so early.”
The man smiled. “No problem. Just doing a final check to make sure there weren’t any hazards to interfere with your tour.” He touched the brim of his hat, nodded in her direction. “Congratulations to both of you.”
“Thanks.” Xavier started moving again as Harold walked away from them, up the rise.
Thoroughly confused, Imani asked, “Baby, what’s going on? What is this place?”
He led her through an opening she assumed would remain a doorway, and inside the framed structure’s first floor, speaking to her as they walked. “This is the new location of Hiram Revels Youth Center.”
She let her eyes sweep over the site again, as far as she could see. “Wow. This is going to be a great space for the kids.”
They moved into a very large room, and in the center of it, Xavier stopped. “Here we are. This is what I wanted you to see. It’s going to be the largest room in the center.”
“I can tell.” She looked up at what would likely become the high ceiling. While she was happy that Xavier’s beloved charges were finally getting a new and improved space, she was still trying to figure out why he’d brought her here, especially when they were both so eager to get the honeymoon underway.
He stood behind her, resting his palms on her shoulders. “Imani, my love, this is my wedding gift to you, my beautiful bride. Welcome to the Richard Grant Center for Economic Empowerment.”
Her hands flew to her mouth as tears flooded her eyes. “You named this after my father?”
His velvet voice answered from behind her. “Yes, baby. Here is where the kids will come to learn hands on. We’ll teach them trades, basic auto and shop skills, and financial literacy. This will be your father’s legacy.”
She turned around, letting his embrace envelop her. “This, and all the babies I plan to give you.”
He kissed her cheek. “Do you like your gift?”
She squeezed him tightly as fresh tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision of his handsome face. “This
is the best, most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. Thank you, Xavier. Thank you so, so much.”
He cupped her cheek with his palm, tilted her face up for his kiss. “Anything for you, Mrs. Whitted.”
And as she let herself be swept away by his kiss, her heart soared with all the happiness she felt inside.
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Couldn’t Ask For More
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Couldn’t Ask For More
Stretched out on the floor of her living room, Alexis Devers flipped through the pages of her sketch pad. Sunlight flooded through the bay windows of her downtown Raleigh condo, illuminating the images she’d created. The soft, white carpet beneath her cradled her body, threatening to put her to sleep. It was only the sheer thrill of artistic expression that had kept her awake for the three hours she’d been lying there, in the same spot.
She smiled. The sketches filling the book’s crisp, white pages represented the final iteration of what would be her first independent fashion line. She already had the perfect name for it: Krystal Kouture One. She planned to keep it simple, numbering her lines and using her company name, to keep her brand top of mind with fashion consumers as well as movers and shakers in the industry.
Alexis hadn’t left her house for four days, she was so wrapped up in getting the pieces in the line just right. She’d barely slept, unable to stop visualizing her designs. She’d entered her kitchen maybe twice, and that was to get coffee or water. Everything she’d eaten had been delivered to her door, courtesy of the many nearby restaurants.
Seeing the completed sketches made all her hard work worthwhile. Pride surged through her, because she knew she’d created something sorely missing in the fashion world. Her clothes would blur the line between sexiness and practicality, giving women the option to cover up their bodies without losing any of their natural allure. This line would be perfect to launch for Fall Runway Week in New York City, as chilly air encouraged people to layer clothing and shield themselves from the elements.
She blew out a breath, anticipating the time crunch she and everybody at Krystal Kouture would soon enter. In order to get the One line ready for launch at Fall Runway Week, they’d have to make samples, test and photograph them on the fit model, do preliminary press… Thankfully, she knew her small but brilliant staff would be fully capable of pulling it off. It just meant they were all about to put in some serious overtime.
Everything was in place for making the One line a reality—almost everything. She’d have to call her best friend and business partner, Sydney Crane, and let her know that the sketches were finalized. But first, one important question still remained to be answered.
What’s my tagline? She tapped the end of her graphite pencil against her chin, turning ideas over in her mind. She needed something catchy, but not cheesy or cliché. Something that would express the purpose behind her designs in just a few succinct words. She sat up, scooting her back against her white couch, listening to the whir of the ceiling fan.
The ringing of her smartphone snapped her out of her thoughts. Twisting around, she grabbed it from the couch cushion. Seeing Maxwell’s name on the screen, she answered it. “Hey, bro.”
“Honestly, Alexis. I’ve been calling you for the past two days. And so has Mom. What in the hell is going on with you?”
“I was working.” She balanced the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she climbed up from the floor. Her back muscles immediately contracted, cursing her for spending so much time on the carpet. She settled onto the couch.
“Good grief. So you mean you were on another one of your ‘art benders’? Where you’re so busy being creative that you can’t even bother to take calls from your family?” His tone held a mixture of mockery and annoyance.
She shook her head. Her brother had a penchant for dramatics. “Maxie, I’m fine. This is how I work.”
“The way you work is weird.”
“I’m an artist. I’m allowed my eccentricities.”
“Eccentrics do things like wear paisley with polka dots, or talk to their potted plants. You’re just an oddball.”
“Shut up, Maxie.” She teased him right back, calling him the nickname he hated. He thought “Maxie” was too feminine for him. He was four years older and had been teasing her for as long as she could remember. “Besides, you’re kind of an artist. Don’t you ever get wrapped up in a project, to the exclusion of everything else?”
He feigned offense. “‘Kind of an artist.’ Lex, please. I am the artist. I’m responsible for some of the most breathtaking buildings in this country.”
The Devers children were an artsy bunch, alright. All were NCCU alumni, having attended the college where their parents had met and fallen in love. Alexis was a fashion designer, Maxwell owned an architectural firm, and… she stopped herself, not wanting to think about something that would ruin her celebratory mood. “Arrogant, much? Now you see why I didn’t answer the phone when you called yesterday.”
“Not arrogant. Confident. There’s a big difference, but that’s beside the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“Just answer my calls and we won’t have a problem. Oh, and you should probably answer Mom’s calls too, because if you don’t, she’ll assume you’ve been kidnapped, murdered, and decapitated.”
On that, she could agree. Their mother, Delphine, professed nonstop worry about her children, all of whom were well into adulthood. At thirty, Alexis was the baby, and Delphine worried about her the most. “Mom does tend to go from zero to worst-case scenario in ten seconds.”
“Yes, she does, so stop raising her blood pressure.”
Alexis ran a hand through her short-cropped curls. “Fair enough. Why were you trying so hard to reach me, anyway? Is something wrong?” She paused, as a terrible thought entered her mind. “Did something happen with Kelsey?”
“No, Kelsey’s fine. I mean, considering the situation.” He coughed. “Everything is fine. I was just trying to invite you to something.”
“Invite me to what?” She stretched out her legs in front of her and leaned forward, releasing tension in the angry muscles of her lower back.
“There’s a step show tomorrow at Central. It’s a TDT thing, but you know your girls from Alpha Delta Rho will be there too, since that’s our sister sorority.”
Her mood brightened at the thought of returning to her alma mater. “Oh my gosh. I forgot about that. Teresa texted me about that, like, two weeks ago. It’s tomorrow, for real?”
“You do realize that time is still passing while you’re locked in your little creative bubble, don’t you, Lex?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do.”
“Just thought I’d ask. So are you going or not?”
“Yeah. I’m finished with my project. What time does it start, and where?”
“Two o’clock, at the gym building.”
It had been ages since she’d seen her sorority sisters, and it was high time she rectified that. Based on Theresa’s text, at least a few of her girls would be turning out to watch the Brothers of TDT rep their organization at the step show. “I’ve got a lunch meeting, so I might be late. But I’m definitely coming.”
“Good. It’s time for you to get out of the house and rejoin the living.”
“When I see you, I’m gonna give you a smack right upside your head, Max.”
He laughed. “Whatever. I’m like twice your size.”
“Then I’m just the right height to punch you in the stomach,” she retorted playfully.
“I’ll see you at the step show. I dare you to leave your sketch pad at home this time, Lex.” Without waiting for her response, he hung up.
She set her phone aside, s
haking her head. Max and his stupid dares…
A squeal of delight passed her lips as the perfect tagline came to mind. “Dare to Be Demure!” she shouted into her empty condo. As much as she detested Maxwell’s tendency to “dare” her, she was glad he had today. The tagline was succinct, evocative, and not at all cheesy.
Jumping up from the couch, she jogged down the hallway to her master bedroom. After several days trapped in the house, a shower would be the first order of business. Then she’d have the pleasure of calling Sydney and telling her they were ready to roll.
* * *
Bryan strolled into the gym at Central, his eyes scanning the space. The bleachers on either side of the polished basketball court were already partially filled with spectators. It was just before two o’clock, and people continued to stream in around him. He moved farther in, searching the bleachers for Xavier and Maxwell.
He spotted them in the center section on the western side of the gym, toward the top. Jogging over to the bleachers, he slowed to climb the steep stairs. When he reached his boys, he gave them both a brief handshake. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nah,” Maxwell said, keeping his eyes on the preparations happening down on the gym floor. He wore a Theta Delta Theta T and a pair of khakis. “The kids are still lining up to do their routine.” He leaned back, letting his elbows rest on the rung behind him.
“They did practice a few steps, but it hasn’t really kicked off yet.” Xavier loosened his tie. Now that he served on the city council, the man was rarely seen in public in street clothes.
“Where’s Tyrone and Orion?” Bryan asked.
“Tyrone’s working late on a deposition or something,” came Xavier’s absentminded reply as he kept his eyes on the floor.
Back to Your Love Page 29
