When I’m With You (Indigo)

by LaConnie Taylor-Jones

  “She’s not my type,” A.J. defended quickly.

  “Naw, naw, brother.” Ray took two steps back. “Naw. Naw. She’s just your type. After talking to her at dinner today, she’s about the only sista I’ve ever met who can get you over that caveman mentality of yours.”

  Ray exchanged a high-five with Marcel. “Come on, mon frère.” Ray beckoned Marcel toward the lawn. “Need to find out a little more about my future sister-in-law.”

  “Ray, behave yourself. I’m warning you,” Marcel growled.

  Ray continued walking with a grin. “You pop the question yet?”

  “That’s none of your business, all right?”

  “That’s a no, I take it, huh?

  “Ray, handle your business, and leave mine alone, okay?”

  Ray came to a dead halt. “Got it. I know ya, and that means soon.” He resumed his long strides toward his destination. “All right then. My lips—” he broke off mimicking zipping his mouth shut, “are sealed.”

  * * *

  On Saturday, the last day of family week, Marcel was filled with pride when Caitlyn told him after breakfast she had spent the entire week learning how to make jambalaya and wanted everyone to try out her dish at dinner that evening. But his delight was short-lived and turned to sheer panic when he learned about forty-five minutes before they were to eat she had prepared the meal unsupervised. He had firsthand knowledge of her cooking skills, and after the one and only meal she had prepared for him by herself, he had gone to bed with an empty bottle of Rolaids on the nightstand. Since then, he’d taken over the cooking duties for them. While he loved her dearly, he knew despite her best efforts, she couldn’t cook.

  Once everyone had seated themselves at the huge dining room table, and after Alcee blessed the meal, the only thing Marcel could do was stare at the platters and bowls Caitlyn had arranged in the center.

  Caitlyn happily announced, “Well, everybody, dig in before the jambalaya gets cold.”

  Marcel swallowed hard. “Uh, kitten, it looks…umm…sort of…different.”

  Caitlyn nodded in agreement. “I know. It’s not exactly like the picture in the recipe book, but it’s good.”

  “Oh, Caitlyn,” Moni exclaimed, “It looks great, the same way mine does when I make it.”

  Brie lifted her brow and stared at the food. “Yeah, Moni, you’re right. It does.”

  Marcel swallowed real hard this time. He knew Moni’s cooking was worst than Caitlyn’s. “Uh, kitten, you followed the recipe, right?”

  Caitlyn smiled. “Umm-hmm.”

  Aimee glanced across the table at her brother and winced. “You try it first, Marcel.”

  Marcel stared first at the platter with the rice—well, what was supposed to be rice—and shuddered. Instead of being fluffy, it was gooey. He turned and looked up at Caitlyn. “Baby, you know, I think the meal would taste better if we had some uh…hot sauce.”

  Everyone scrambled from their chairs, including Taylor and Tyler loudly volunteering, “I’ll get it.”

  Caitlyn waved her hand down for them to return to their seats. “No, no. Everyone go ahead and eat. I’ll get it.”

  Once Caitlyn was out of earshot, Alcee stared at the platter with the jambalaya. He leaned over and whispered in Marcel’s ear. “Uh, now what did she say this was supposed to be again?”

  Marcel shrugged and lifted a shrimp with his fork. “Jambalaya.” He twirled the fork completely around to inspect what was supposed to be a shrimp—“I think.” He sighed. “What are we going to do?”

  “We give it to Kenji,” Taylor suggested.

  Tyler nodded. “Yeah, Max, too.”

  Max growled and Kenji whimpered, and they both scurried out the dining room.

  Zach chuckled. “Listen up, brother-in-law. Let me give ya some words of wisdom here. All ya can do at this point is when she asks how it tastes say umm…umm…good.”

  Moni looked at her husband and pouted. “You never say that when I cook jambalaya.”

  Zach leaned over and whispered something in Moni’s ear as he rubbed her expanding belly. “But I make it good in other ways. Ain’t that right, baby?”

  Moni released a long sigh of contentment and smiled.

  Ray voiced his opinion loudly. “Whatcha mean what we gonna do? Look, she’s yo woman. I don’t know what you gonna do, but as for me…Burger King is two blocks up.”

  “Hush up, all of ya,” Mama Z said. “That there child worked hard fixin’ this food, and we goin’ eat it—every bit of it.” She tightly clutched the rosary beads around her neck with one hand and made the sign of the cross with the other.

  Marcel peeped around to be sure Caitlyn wasn’t on her way back to the dining room. “At least we have two trained medical personnel in the house.”

  “Trained is the operative word,” A.J. advised. “And there’s a limitation to that.”

  Seated next to A.J., Vic whispered from the opposite side of the table. “Marcel, I can’t believe you let her roam in the kitchen by herself. Boy, don’t you know by now that’s dangerous?”

  Marcel rubbed his stomach and winced. “Vic, trust me, I know.” He looked around at everyone, and issued a stern order. “Send your doctor bill to me tomorrow. Let’s eat.”

  Chapter 14

  “Marcel…”

  Caitlyn’s strained, trembling voice on the cell phone made the hairs on the back of Marcel’s neck stand at attention.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” He was driving across the Bay Bridge and had just passed Treasure Island. He had another fourth of a mile to go before he’d exit toward Oakland.

  “My…my apartment. Someone’s been in here.”

  “Is anything missing?”

  “Nothing is missing, but Marcel, someone’s been in here. I know it. My jewelry box is not the way I left it.”

  Marcel stared out the windshield straight ahead. If he didn’t know anything else about Caitlyn, he knew how neat and organized she was, especially with her jewelry. He’d watched her enough to know that she placed each piece in a particular arrangement. “Where are you now?”

  “Inside.”

  Cole. “Get out now,” he shouted. “Go outside and stand on the corner where people can see you. Give me fifteen minutes.” When he didn’t get a response, he shouted into his mouthpiece again. “Caitlyn, did you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go on, baby. Right now.”

  He disconnected the call and punched in another number.

  “Zach, it’s Marcel. Listen, can you get a car over to Caitlyn’s place? Somebody’s broken in.” He quickly recited the address. “Dammit, Zach, I don’t know who, what, when, where, but I’m headed there now.” He nodded at Zach’s words. “Thanks.”

  As soon as Marcel disconnected the call with his brother-in-law, traffic slowed. All he could see was a sea of red taillights and eventually every car came to a dead halt. Nothing but an accident or stalled vehicle could cause such a massive traffic backup. He didn’t know how long he’d be stuck on the bridge. In addition to the police, he needed to find someone who could get to Caitlyn fast. As his heart thudded inside his chest, he reached down and punched in the number to his service technician at the Oakland dealership.

  “Sean, can someone cover you right now?” He was relieved when Sean said yes and gave him Caitlyn’s address. “Stay with her until I get there. Don’t let anyone near her. Understand?”

  Marcel rounded the street corner forty-five minutes later doing forty miles per hour. When he spotted Caitlyn and Sean, he slammed the gear into park, rocking the car violently. He was out and running toward them before the motion stopped. He hauled her against him. “You okay?”

  “I am now.” She looked at her apartment building. “The police came.”

  “I called Zach and told him what happened.”

  “What if?” Caitlyn cried against his chest. She looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes. “What if it’s Cole? What if he’s found me?”

  He didn’t
tell her it that was the first thing that had popped into his mind. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, his gaze of reassurance speaking volumes, his voice soothing. “You let me worry about Cole. Your days of running from him are over. You hear me?”

  She nodded.

  He extended his hand to Sean. “Thanks, man. I owe you for this.”

  Sean nodded. “No problem, boss man.”

  Wrapping his arm around Caitlyn’s waist, they walked back to her apartment. “Come on. Let’s see what the police have found out. We’ll get some of your things, and you’re coming home with me. I’ll come back for the rest of your stuff later.”

  * * *

  After Caitlyn phoned Vic that evening and told her someone had been inside her apartment, Vic demanded to speak with Marcel. It took him more than thirty minutes before he finally convinced her Caitlyn was safe. Their conversation ended with Vic agreeing to meet Marcel at Caitlyn’s apartment around eight the next morning to pack the rest of Caitlyn’s clothes. He’d used every skill he had to convince Caitlyn to stay with him until he could find out the person who was responsible for all of this.

  Marcel didn’t allow Caitlyn to do anything. After dinner, he gave her an hour-long massage topped off with a pedicure, after which, he personally blew her toes dry. Once she was ready for her bath, he undressed her and with a smile, watched as she sank into the bubble-filled, black marble tub. Mesmerized, he leaned against the doorframe and watched bubbles float over her like billows of clouds.

  She called out to him and with a provocative look, watching him slowly make his way toward her with two huge velour towels. Her eyes held his when she rose from the tub with water and white fluffy foam cascading along the smooth, dark surface of her skin.

  His hot, potent gaze roamed her from head to toe and finally landed at the spot she wanted him to touch more than anything in the world. Her body came alive. Stepping from the tub, she obeyed his gentle command: “Come to me.”

  Her eyes fluttered while he dried her upper body with extraordinary tenderness. Kneeling before her, he started at her feet and slowly trailed the towel upward deliberately lingering in some places. As he worked his way up her body, the towel became a trusted ally in his sensual assault, moving in and out, up and down until her breathing became shallow. A shimmer of heat passed through her when he whispered, “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  Her dark brown eyes bore into his gray-green ones as he glided his hands up to cup her breasts. A moan whose origin began in her abdomen tore from the back of her throat when his fingers circled her nipples, making them harden like tiny pebbles of granite. Feeling her body burst to life at his unhurried strokes along her stomach and thighs, she bucked at the finger skating ever so slowly over the tiny bud tucked beneath her dewy patch. She closed her eyes, parted her lips and surrendered.

  A deep whimper she recognized as her own replaced the silence in the room the moment Marcel’s mouth touched her there. Somewhere from deep in her subconscious, she heard him groan right before his tongue shocked her like an electric current. It swept along her wet folds with such gentleness she didn’t realize she’d reached down and held his head securely at her spot. Before long, her purrs escalated to a roar.

  It wasn’t until loving fingers replaced the magic of his tongue that she opened her eyes, and through a hazy, passion-glazed fog, locked her gaze with his while his fingers plunged in and out of her. The familiar tightening at her center blurred her vision even more, but hearing Marcel’s passionate whispers caused her to soar. Sensations built to such intensity, she begged for the pleasure to never end. She tried hard to stave off the magic his mouth created and hang on to what his fingers prolonged. It wasn’t meant to be. His voice loomed in the stillness of the room.

  “Come for me.”

  And she did.

  Trailing his damp finger between the valley of her breasts, he stopped at her parted lips. “Know how you taste, kitten?”

  “No.”

  He gently stroked his finger over her quivering lips. “Open.”

  She tasted herself and accepted his kiss, causing tears to sting her eyelids.

  “Marcel?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Well…how do I taste?”

  “Mighty sweet, baby. Mighty sweet.”

  * * *

  Early the next morning, Marcel eased out the bed while Caitlyn was still sleeping and anxiously headed downstairs. He’d been restless all night trying to figure out why someone would enter into Caitlyn’s apartment and not take anything. Plus, he needed to check in with Alex and find out Cole’s whereabouts. If the bastard had somehow found out where she was, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t commit bodily harm against him, or worse. He shut the door to his office and picked up the phone.

  “Robinson, wake up.”

  Alex yawned. “B, do you know what time it is?”

  Marcel glanced at the clock on his desk. “Yeah, it’s four.” He didn’t apologize for the intrusion. “Robinson, this is urgent. You’ve been tracking Mazzei, right?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Somebody got inside of Caitlyn’s apartment yesterday.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s scared shitless.”

  “Hell, I don’t blame her. Dealing with a stalker is nothing to play around with, partner. But trust me, it wasn’t Mazzei.”

  “I don’t care. Put somebody on Caitlyn twenty-four/seven.” Marcel trusted Alex to a fault and accepted what he said as gospel, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with Caitlyn’s safety. He planned to stop at nothing until he found out who got into her apartment.

  “Do you know where Mazzei is?”

  “Yeah…New York? Why?”

  Marcel breathed a sigh of relief. He went on to tell Alex everything that had happened.

  “Listen, B, Zach and his boys are good, but I’m better. I’ll swing by your office later this morning and get the key to Caitlyn’s crib. I want to check things out myself.”

  “Thanks, Robinson.” Marcel placed the phone back on the receiver and frowned. If it wasn’t Cole who had gotten inside of Caitlyn’s apartment, then who?

  * * *

  A little before eight, Marcel met Vic at Caitlyn’s apartment. Vic neatly placed several outfits in an open suitcase atop the bed. Marcel strolled in a few moments later and peeked over to find a pair of black G-string panties with a rhinestone design on the front. He held them up with his index finger. “She calls these panties?”

  Victoria turned around and laughed. “Yeah, and if you keep looking, you’ll probably find a pair that’ll put those to shame. I’ma let you in on a little secret. If you let her, that girl would spend every penny she’s got shopping at Victoria’s Secret.”

  Marcel nodded and tucked what Vic just said into his memory blank. “Vic, I’m glad you were there for her.”

  Vic smiled. “She’s the sister I never had.”

  Vic inclined her head and looked straight in his eyes. “Marcel, she’s gone through a lot the last three years. Most women would’ve given up or caved in, but she held on.”

  “I know that, Vic. Her stubbornness is what I love most about her.”

  “You really love her, don’t you?”

  “Yes. And I will do anything to protect her and keep her safe.”

  “I’m happy for you guys.” Vic hesitated a second. “Marcel, I ain’t trying to get into ya’ll’s business, but…” She waved her hand. “Forget it. Let’s finish up here.”

  Marcel led Vic over to the edge of the bed and squatted in front of her. “Come on. Finish what you were about to say.”

  “Uh, she told you about Cole—”

  “Yeah. That bastard. She told me.” Marcel’s face twisted into a frown. He folded Vic’s hands inside of his and looked off into the distance. “I’m not sure what I’d do if I ever stumble on him.”

  “You know, Marcel, it wasn’t until she went through all that crap that I truly realized how strong she is.” />
  “Why do you say that?”

  Vic chuckled softly. “That little-bitty person is the most resourceful woman I’ve ever met.”

  Marcel rolled his eyes and chuckled back. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

  “Seriously, my girl can stretch a dollar until it snaps. You know, I remember when we were in college, and she had the discipline to manage her money down to the penny. Hmph, the rest of us graduated faced with student loans. She came out debt free.”

  Marcel chuckled. “Oh, I can believe that.”

  “Ain’t never seen a person who could take one chicken and feed twenty folks, but that woman of yours sure can. You know, until she could get out here, she lived on practically nothing so she wouldn’t have to ask folks to help her out.” Vic looked up at Marcel. “Just promise me that you’ll love and protect her.”

  “You have my word.”

  “Marcel?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you ever need me for anything, just call, okay?”

  He placed a kiss against her cheek. “Thanks, Vic. I’ll remember that.”

  * * *

  Without fail, Marcel and Caitlyn dedicated every Wednesday night to a scrumptious feast of sushi at Yoshi’s, which had the best in Oakland.

  Marcel glanced around, hoping their waitress would return with their order soon. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while. How did you know to send your proposal to me?”

  Caitlyn shook her head and smiled. “I didn’t send it to you. I gave it to Fran. She said she knew someone in her family who might know someone who’d be interested in funding it.”

  “But I got your proposal from Marilyn.” Marcel frowned and palmed the side of his face. “Besides Russ, the only other family Marilyn has is a sister-in-law she can’t stand.”

  Caitlyn’s brow lifted. “Do you know her name?”

  “Yeah. It’s Francesca.”

  They both looked at each other and said at the same time, “Fran.”

  Marcel leaned back in his chair. “So how are things with the foundation?”