by A. M. Kusi
TJ hooted and hollered in the background and Bently blinked away, as if just realizing what he’d been doing, ending the trance.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
She grabbed her empty cup and went to the kitchen. After shutting the timer off, she grabbed hand mitts before opening the oven. The savory smell of pasta, meat, and cheese permeated the small house. She inhaled as she pulled the casserole dish from the oven and placed it carefully on top. Belle uncovered it, the steam wafting up.
The fine hairs on her arms and neck stood on end as if reaching out towards a source of electricity. She sensed him before he spoke. “Can I help set the table?”
She nodded and pointed without looking up. “Plates are in there.”
He walked over, invading her space one step at a time. She used the spatula to cut the lasagna into pieces, pretending he didn’t affect her. Pretending her body didn’t hum with some unseen energy that crackled and thickened the air between them. Pretending her inner muscles didn’t throb and ache with emptiness. She shook her head. This wasn’t her. She’d never experienced this kind of attraction before.
Glass clinked as he set the plates next to her, his arm grazing hers. Her breathing hitched. She stood frozen, afraid if she moved, it would be into him rather than away.
He leaned his head in inhaling. His hot exhale tickled the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder.
“Smells delicious.”
God, she wanted his mouth on her neck. She turned to face him. His eyes darted to her mouth. She bit down hard on her bottom lip.
“Don’t do that,” he grated. He reached out and pulled her bruised lip free with his thumb.
She shivered, need and want blazing like a wildfire within her.
Tension clamored, electrifying her insides. He was so close. Oak and coffee. Earth and musk. Man.
Her resolve was weakened by the way he was looking at her. Like he was awed by her. Like she was precious.
Kiss me.
Bently’s other hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her against him. Her cheek pressed against his chest as his arms enveloped her.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was ragged as his chest heaved with each sharp breath.
She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed as she melted into him. Belle breathed him in. A different kind of warmth radiated in her chest. When was the last time she’d been truly just held by a man? Never. Bently’s arms felt . . . safe.
He’s safe.
He kissed the top of her head and backed away. Something about the exchange was so intimate. The way he’d touched her, so careful and gentle, completely opposite of the roughness she’d expected. The way he’d held her . . . he’d given her something rather than taking.
“What else do you need?” he asked, clearing his throat.
You.
***
As they devoured their dinner, TJ and Bently exchanged stories. The deep rumble of Bently’s laugh vibrated through her, teasing her.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you the light came on in the car again for the oil change,” TJ said before shoveling another bite of the pasta into his mouth.
She sighed. “Okay. I’ll make an appointment and take care of it.”
“So, I checked out Hope Facility,” TJ said to Bently.
“What did ya think?”
“It’s a cool place. Half the kids there are homeless. I met a guy whose family kicked him out because they caught him with his boyfriend.” TJ shook his head.
Bently nodded. “Yeah, Aaron originally started Hope because his brother was in a similar situation.”
“It’s cool to meet other people who’ve gone through something similar to what we have. I feel like I can let them know there’s a way out.” TJ scraped the last bite into his mouth.
Bently’s brows creased as he glanced at Belle, his questions written in his eyes.
Belle finished chewing and swallowed before washing it down with a sip of wine.
“At least I had my older sister to look out for me on the streets. Most of these guys only have themselves.”
Belle picked up her wine again. She didn’t mind Bently knowing about her past. She was proud of how far she’d come. But TJ saw her as a heroine, and that made her uncomfortable.
“You were on the streets?” Bently asked. His knuckles grew white around the beer bottle.
“Just for a little bit,” she answered.
“More like a year or so,” TJ corrected. “We had to leave our mom’s because—”
“Does anyone want dessert? I’ve got ice-cream sandwiches,” Belle interrupted.
Bently’s eyes flashed before he nodded. “Sounds great.”
She stood to clear away the plates, but he shot to his feet and took hers, stacking it on his own before reaching for TJ’s.
“The cook doesn’t clean. You just sit there and relax,” Bently said as he took the dishes to the sink. He opened the freezer and pulled out three treats. He tossed one to TJ and then handed one to Belle.
She tore hers open and sunk her teeth into the frozen dessert, barely tasting it as Bently’s eyes locked on hers.
“What made you want to become a cop?” TJ asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension between them.
Bently focused his attention back on her brother. “I wanted to protect people. I saw the need for it and figured it was a good way to help get some of the bad guys off the streets. Plus, I needed to do something to support my siblings. It was that or the military, but basic training in the military was longer and I could have been deployed. I was their guardian, so I needed to stay close to home.”
TJ nodded, wiping his mouth with the napkin on the table. “I’m gonna go up and finish the reading assignment that’s due tomorrow. Thanks for coming over and playing the game with me.” TJ extended his hand to Bently who didn’t miss a beat as he slapped his palm against her brother’s, pulling it back before bumping his fist.
“Thanks for dinner, sis.” TJ leaned in and gave her a side hug.
“You’re welcome.”
The creak of the stairs was the only sound as TJ made his way up to his bedroom.
“That was honestly the best meal I think I’ve ever eaten. Mia’s tamales come in a close second.” Bently chuckled.
“How is she doing?”
“Good. Keeping Andre on his toes. They’re getting married in the spring.” Bently smiled.
So, he’d be the only bachelor left in his group of friends.
“Do you play video games often?” she asked.
Bently shrugged. “Never really had time to play much of anything.” He frowned as if he regretted the small confession. He shifted and tipped the beer bottle to his full lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Thank you for hanging out with TJ. He doesn’t have any grown men around him, and it means a lot that you take time for him. He doesn’t get much opportunity to play either.” She sipped her red wine.
He shrugged as if it wasn’t one of the greatest kindnesses anyone had ever shown them. “He’s a fun guy to hang out with. He’s pretty good at ball too. Why doesn’t he play for the school team? He’s like, scholarship good.”
She licked her lips and set her glass down. “He’s got some academic scholarships. He says he isn’t interested, that he’d rather double up on work and get the whole thing over with so he can start college early. He was a year behind when we got him enrolled in school again after his guardianship was transferred to me. He buckled down and surged ahead. That’s TJ for you. He’s focused and a hard worker. He tries to play it down, but he’s really smart and driven.”
“I can see that.” Bently nodded, watching her with rapt attention.
“Sometimes I wonder if I did something wrong. That maybe I put too much pressure on him, or he fed off my overachiever energy.”
Bently re
ached out his hand, his warm palm eclipsing hers. “I think that boy is so amazing because of everything you’ve done for him. Despite . . . everything . . . you got out. You changed both of your life courses for the better. There’s nothing to regret about that.”
She swallowed. He may not know everything about her past, but he’d hit the nail on the head. He saw her.
His finger traced the skin of her wrist, sending tantalizing swirls of arousal spinning through her. He abruptly pulled his hand away, ending the contact. He stood and walked over to the sink.
“You don’t have to do those.” She got up.
He turned back to her, switching on the water. “You cooked, I clean. Now put your feet up and tell me about that book you were reading.”
Her eyebrows rose. “My book?”
He nodded, squirting soap onto a sponge. “You seemed to be lost in another world while you read it. A million different expressions danced across that beautiful face as you turned the pages.”
“You were watching me read?”
“Hard to look away. Why do you think I lost so badly to your brother?” He chuckled.
Heat spread in her chest and rose to her cheeks. She was flattered and confused and awed by this man.
“What was it about?” he asked, elbows deep scrubbing her dishes.
Was it possible to combust internally? Sparks and shimmers, like warm rays of sunshine, blossomed beneath her rib cage.
He’d given her something so much more than a physical release tonight. He’d offered her what she craved most—connection. Even if he didn’t want it, how was she supposed to stop giving this man her heart?
Chapter 18
Bently
“Give me the drip pan,” Bently said, reaching his hand out.
TJ handed him the black plastic container as the asphalt bit into his shoulder.
“Now the socket wrench, and get down here and you can see what I’m doing better,” he directed. The cold metal pressed into his palm, before TJ bent and crawled under the jacked Ford Focus.
“You sure it isn’t going to fall and crush us?” he asked worriedly.
“Yeah, even if it fell, we got the tires to protect us. It’s pretty secure though.” Bently lined up the drip pan underneath the right location. “Okay, so take this socket wrench and put it on the oil drain plug there.” Bently handed the tool over to the young man. “Pull it to the left.”
TJ did as he was told and the bolt loosened.
“Perfect. Now unscrew it with your hand the rest of the way. But watch out, it drains fast.”
Black liquid poured out into the plastic bin.
TJ’s large grin highlighted his white teeth. “Now what?”
“After it’s done draining, we’ll put one of these new gaskets on to make sure it won’t leak, and get it nice and tight.”
Bently walked TJ through the rest of the process, taking time to answer his questions.
“Now it’s done, we can put some fresh oil in from under the hood.” He inched out from under the car, his eyes meeting the very fine legs of the woman he couldn’t get out of his head. He took his time as his gaze lazily crawled up her curves, modestly hidden in those blue scrubs she wore. Her brown spheres slammed into his with so much force. Gratitude he didn’t deserve radiated out of her, saturating the air between them. How long had she been watching them?
Bently wiped his hand on the rag and stood. “Almost ready for you to go to work.”
“You changed my oil?” she asked, searching his face for an explanation. There wasn’t one, except, something inside him drew him to her like a moth to the flame. He may not be able to give her everything she needed, but he could take care of her in these little ways.
“TJ mentioned it the other night at dinner.” He hoped she’d drop it and they could move on with their day.
“And he showed me so I can do it next time,” TJ said, patting him on the shoulder.
Belle looked between him and her brother, her eyes going glassy as she blinked.
“Aww, don’t cry, sis.” TJ wrapped his arms around Belle.
Bently’s own hands itched to do the same. Why was she acting like this was a big deal?
“You need a shower.” She laughed, pulling out of her brother’s embrace.
“Yeah. Have a good night at work,” TJ said, walking backwards towards the house. “Wanna order a pizza, Bently? Then I’ll school your ass in Madden.”
“Sounds good,” he agreed as the young man disappeared inside. He bent and picked up the tools before placing them back in his toolbox.
“Thank you. No one’s . . . I mean . . . this means a lot,” Belle said, stepping closer.
Bently gathered the quarts of fresh oil and poured it into the dispenser. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me,” she said quietly.
He capped off the top and shut the hood of the car. “I’ll get it off the jack and you’ll be all set.”
He did as he said and put his tools in the back of his truck, along with the old oil he’d drop off to Link to recycle at the garage.
Two arms wrapped around him as he turned, encompassing him in a hug. His chest squeezed tight, something snapping inside. Careful not to get his stained hands on her, he hugged her back. He breathed her in—cocoa butter and vanilla. He’d hang on to the moment as long as it would last, stealing it like a thief.
“You’re a good man, Bently Evans.” Her words unlocked something deep inside him. As much as he wanted to argue, having her think that of him put a little piece of him back together.
He leaned in and kissed the top of her head before she released him. He didn’t know why he’d done it at dinner a few days ago, except that not putting his mouth on her in some way felt wrong. It wasn’t sexual. It was . . . something deeper. Friendship. That’s right. He was just being a good friend.
***
“In what year did slavery end?” Bently quizzed TJ on his history homework.
“Which one?” TJ asked.
Bently looked back to the list of questions on the paper. “Is there more than one?”
“The Emancipation Proclamation was issued January first, eighteen sixty-three. But the civil war between the confederate states of the South and the union soldiers of the North didn’t end until eighteen sixty-five. However, news didn’t reach Texas until June nineteenth, eighteen sixty-five.”
Bently searched the notes. “It doesn’t say anything about that date in here.”
“It wouldn’t.” TJ shrugged. “Juneteenth isn’t even a public holiday.”
Andre and Remy celebrated Juneteenth—he’d heard about it from them when he was a young teen. “Okay—”
TJ held up his hand. “That’s when they say slavery ended, but really it changed forms. Since you weren’t allowed to own human beings anymore, they enacted Jim Crow, segregation. They created more laws in the eighteen nineties limiting what a Black person could do, where they could live, what they could own, and suppressed their votes.”
Bently nodded. “Good thing that was a long time ago.”
TJ met his eyes. “Jim Crow didn’t end until nineteen sixty-four. Only fifty-six years ago. That means your daddy or granddaddy lived to see it.”
Bently shook his head. Heaviness settled on his shoulders for his ancestors’ crimes. His stomach churned. “Right, the civil rights movement.”
“Bingo.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be quizzing you?” Bently forced a chuckle.
TJ lifted the can of soda to his lips and took a sip. He set it down and grinned. “I got a good one for you. What year were interracial marriages legalized?”
“Uh . . . I don’t know. The same year?”
TJ shook his head. “Went all the way to the Supreme Court in nineteen sixty-seven. Loving v. Virginia.”
Bently sat back
and sighed. “I don’t get how so many people could mistreat a group of other humans like that, like shit.”
TJ was quiet, staring out the window.
“Can I ask you a question?” Bently asked.
TJ turned towards him. “Sure.”
“Were you scared of me, that day with the bike?”
TJ’s eyes clouded over as he nodded. “All I could think was I’m gonna be shot and Belle’s gonna be all alone.”
Bently ran his palm over his face. This conversation got heavy fast. “I’m sorry. I hope you know that you’re safe here in Shattered Cove. My station is full of good officers who care about this community.”
TJ grunted.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I think you believe that. I’ve had a target on my back from the day I was born, simply for having more melanin in my skin than you. I can’t afford the privilege of feeling safe, or not being conscious of where my hands are at all times when I’m out.”
Bently cleared his throat. His mind reeled from TJ’s honest and heartbreaking words. “What can I do to make it better?” he asked.
“Man, I’m seventeen years old. I ain’t got the answers to world peace. Apparently treating each other with basic human decency is too hard for so many to grasp.” TJ shook his head, reaching for his soda once more.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” He grabbed the beer he’d set on the coffee table and took a long gulp. “Alright, next question. What was the date Abraham Lincoln was killed?”
***
Bently sat on his couch, his computer open on his lap. TJ’s words stuck with Bently long after he’d finished quizzing the young man for his test. An uncomfortable briar wedged deep in the back of his mind. The kid had a valid point. How could one man solve world peace? How could you convince another person to leave their bias in the garbage where it belonged? How could you change what was imbedded in the DNA of an entire country?
