Breathless 4: Loving Montie

by Shani Greene-Dowdell

  “But you slept with Justine while Destiny had your heart.”

  “I wasn’t in a relationship with Destiny, and that was before you. I needed something at the time. I was running from the burning rejection from my ex-wife. I was in denial that we were truly over.”

  I cut him off before he could continue. “That’s what I’m saying. It’s only been a few months since you didn’t know if you could stand to live without Destiny. How can you be sure that you’re over her?”

  “Because if I weren’t over her, I could never do this.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and kissed me deeply. He released a drawn-out groan into my mouth. As he methodically grinded his tongue against mine, his warm hands slipped around my waist and settled atop my plush bottom before he began to unbutton my dress.

  “Montie, I’m serious. We have to talk about this.”

  “Oh, I’m serious as a heart attack, Lissa. I could never kiss you and feel it burning in my soul if you hadn’t stolen my heart. Love is an action word. There is no woman, and I repeat no woman, that moves me the way you do. What Destiny and I had died a long time ago. You rescued me from hell on earth. I’ll be damned if I let the same person who pulled me into that abyss drive you away from me.”

  “Montie, I’m not running away. I’m just being extra careful with my heart.”

  “That makes two of us. Do you remember when you asked me if I trusted you?”

  “Yes, at the church. Why?”

  “Well, I’m asking you now to trust me.”

  Staring into his sincere brown eyes, I said, “I trust you.”

  “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought you trusted me.”

  I turned slowly.

  He pressed his body against mine. His prominent erection pressed against my ass. My head fell back against his chest. I took a few moments to just feel his body heat collide with mine. Montie bent me over and slipped my panties down. He fumbled with his belt and took his erection in his hand before cramming it into my tight heat. I was his, body and soul, as I begged for mercy. It was convincing my mind that had so many memories of heartbreak to come along for the ride.

  EPILOGUE

  Montie

  This Love of Ours

  Six months later…

  “This is your last goodbye,” I said stepping up to claim my woman. “Destiny’s good without you, man. I got this covered,” I pushed the door to the home Destiny and I built closed in Jacob’s face. But he thrusted the door open and pushed me backwards.

  “The hell you mean she’s good? Man, if you don’t get out of my face there are going to be problems for you. You have gotten in the way enough, Montie.”

  I scowled at Jacob, ready to pounce in any moment. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d get out of here,” I roared as I spoke. Mounted up in his face so close that spittle flew from my mouth and landed on him, I growled. Fire flew from my nostrils as I tried to breathe to get my temper in check. The maneuver was futile. Before I knew anything, I had my hands all over him, pushing him back over the threshold. “Don’t come back to my woman’s house. It’s over…”

  “I am not leaving here until Destiny tells me what you are doing here,” he retorted, barging past me and into the foyer. “Is there something else you should tell me, Destiny? Is he the real reason you gave back my ring?” he asked Destiny and I waited for her to tell him the truth. When she didn’t answer, I spoke up.

  “Get out of this house!” I pushed Jacob toward the door. He struggled to stay inside, but he didn’t put up much of a fight. He obviously was waiting on Destiny to defend their love that I was sure had come to an end.

  “I’m warning you to keep your hands off me, Montie,” Jacob said, as his eyes traveled to mine. “She’s not unconscious anymore, so she can speak for herself.”

  “She sure can. Tell him to take his ring and get out of here, Destiny! He’s clearly hard of hearing.” I raged toward her and stood face to face with the woman who seemed incapable of defending my honor. “Tell him, Destiny.” I stopped short of pleading with her.

  “Montie, I can handle it!” she said and moved away from me.

  And Destiny did handle it. She tossed me out and allowed Jacob back in. I never thought I would be able to view that day in a favorable way until I was blessed with the sight of Lissa McDaniel’s smile. Her face as I drove her to what she thought was just another business meeting confirmed that she was sent into my life to be my peace in the storm. My worst day set up the best day of my life. The day I would ask the woman that was the glue to my broken heart to be my wife.

  Justine was sentenced to twenty-five years in the murder of her ex. DNA evidence and her lipstick being found on the scene was the nail in her coffin. I waited for six months for her to produce the child that she claimed to be three months pregnant with when she revealed it to me. According to the prison, she wasn’t even pregnant to begin with.

  Destiny moved back to Atlanta, giving me more time with my children. It hurt me to see her so sad about Jacob’s indiscretion. I did everything in my power as a friend to cheer her up. I took the kids more often than weekends, which Lissa loved. I figured giving Destiny time to heal without having to be caregiver to our children was what she needed most from me.

  A few times when I came over to pick up the children, I saw Jacob staked out in front of her house. He’d get out and jog up to the door behind me hoping she would talk to him. She always slammed the door in his face without giving him a chance. He told me the story about how Justine tricked him into thinking he was making love to Destiny. I don’t know why, but I believed him and prayed that he would be able to get through to Destiny. Now that my heart wasn’t intertwined in their relationship, I was able to admit that I understood the love they had for each other. An even deeper burning desire for Lissa lived in me.

  I pulled into a parking space at Holistic Medical and hopped out. I opened the door for Lissa. “Honey, this is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. We’re going to go in here and make the biggest deal of our lives. I hope you’re ready to have the world at your fingertips,” I said.

  “I’m ready for it all. We deserve this,” she said, picking up her briefcase and striding beside me confidently.

  We entered the building and went to Mr. Bromage’s office. Indeed, we signed a five-million-dollar deal to design medical software that would be distributed to all Holistic Medical offices and their parent company. When the contracts were signed, Mr. Bromage asked if we could go into the testing area and look at a glitch he had encountered. “I have it loaded on this computer, so I can show you best,” he said, pointing to the computer in the center of the room.

  I pulled the chair back for Lissa to sit down and she moved the mouse. The screen saver had the word “WILL” in all caps, but the screen would not change over.

  One by one workers from Holistic Medical walked in with shirts that read: YOU. MAKE. ME. THE. HAPPIEST. MAN. ALIVE. AND. MARRY. ME. LISSA?

  When she realized what was happening, she turned to me and I was on one knee.

  “Lissa, I love the way you handle the less fortunate. It’s exemplary of how you handle my heart, which was so depleted when I met you. Your past roughened you around the edges, so you didn’t even know what to think of our relationship back then. I’m just glad I could capture the beautiful passion within you and bring it out for you to enjoy again. We deserve to relish the spoils of our love for the rest of our lives. We are the example of a power couple, because we powered each other up…rebooted the love that we both tried to bury within. So today I’m asking will you, many years from now, still handle my heart with care that restores it? Will you, in years to come, allow me to live to bring that beautiful smile to your face? Lissa, will you marry me?”

  Her head nodded vigorously as tears flowed from her eyes. I stood and kissed each tear away.

  “Yes! I will marry you, Montie. I will marry you,” she exhaled as the room erupted in sniffles, applause and ye
lls.

  THE END, for now.

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  Excerpt from Breathless 5: Loving Jacob

  Chapter One

  Destiny

  Like You Used To…

  I looked at the old, run-down building Tasha had called a lounge and shot a disgusted look in her direction. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into coming out here. I should be in bed after the long day I had with Junior’s game. I have to get up and take care of my family tomorrow.”

  I had no clue what it would take to make the latter come true. With the raging feeling in my gut that Jacob had done the unthinkable with Justine, I wouldn’t rest well until the truth was unveiled, or the nagging thought got put to bed, once and for all.

  “It may look a little worn on the outside, but trust me Destiny. This is exactly what you need right now,” she assured me. “And, you’ll see it’s not a bad place when we get inside,” she added as she strutted ahead of me wearing a pair of cute, six-inch heels and with a head of curls cascading down to her ample bottom. My cousin, Tasha Baker, had dolled up like she stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine, just to take a walk through the pearly gates of hell.

  “Tasha, I don’t want to be here!” I protested.

  She stopped walking and spun around to face me with fire shooting from her eyes. “Destiny, you’re the one who said you needed to relax and clear your mind. That’s what we’re going to do, so stop putting the place down.” Just as quickly as she faced me she turned and stalked across the street.

  “Well, I tell you I’m suspicious of Jacob and Justine, and you bring me here to get mugged? I can see how this is what I need,” I stated sarcastically, smacking my teeth like I used to as a little girl, while continuing to follow her. Our heels clacking against the gritty pavement only reiterated my discomfort with the dingy, broken down venue.

  There were probably fifty cars in the parking lot and a few parked alongside the road. The streets were dark, except for one dim lamppost. Jacob’s security detail was nowhere in sight, which meant I successfully ditched them on the drive to Tasha’s house earlier. I had intentionally zigzagged through traffic and made sudden turns to lose them. Thankfully, it worked. I needed a breather from Jacob’s protective watch.

  “I’m getting tired of your bitching, Destiny!” Tasha said, bringing my attention back to her. “You need to come down a notch. You may live in The Hills with Jacob now and have forgotten where you came from, but I haven’t forgot your lil’ snotty nose trotting around following me everywhere I went on Benson Ave. So please, miss me with that highfalutin mess. It won’t work with me, because I know you,” she said as she slowed down to walk by my side.

  “Where I live has nothing to do with this bummy place, Tasha. I’m just saying, why did we have to come here?” I hopped over a puddle of water in the walkway…well, at least I hoped it was water. It could’ve been—hell, no. I just hoped it was water. “Really Tasha?”

  “Wait until I tell Moneefa that you act like you haven’t seen a water puddle before. I remember when we used to pray for rain so we could play in it, and in the water puddles. Now you’re too bougie to step over a puddle,” Tasha said as we reached the door where a big, burly man started running a metal detector over her purse.

  “I am not bougie!” I said, as the man took his wand and started waving it over my bag. I snatched my purse from his reach, and he humped his shoulders. “This is just a sleazy place,” I added.

  “Hold up lady. I have to pat you down, too,” Mr. Burly said, and I was one hundred percent sure he was harassing me as retribution for my harsh words about the death trap of a building he guarded.

  After nearly every orifice of my body was touched by a man I didn’t care to ever see again, I walked into the smoky club with my stomach churning with revolt over the dank mixed with cigarette smoke that filled the air. Women barely had clothes on and dread heads were everywhere, including posted up against the walls.

  “This is your idea of what I need right now?” I mumbled loud enough for Tasha to hear as I stomped behind her like a petulant child. “I’m starting to think you don’t know me that well, Tasha.”

  Tasha stared at me with a dead look. She pursed her lips together as if she were willing herself not to respond. Just like she knew me well, I knew Tasha. She was ready to strike with venom.

  “We’re not going to be out here, Destiny,” she finally said. “I’m taking your uptight ass to the poetry lounge in the back, but if you keep bitching and moaning about it, I’ll take you back to my house, so you can get your car and go home. I’m tired of hearing about it.”

  “Whatever.” I looked around at the collard green colored walls that had more paint chipping away than remained.

  Maybe I am acting a little bougie. Maybe I have forgotten where I came from.

  Those thoughts made me pull about ten stairs quietly behind my bestie cousin who never led me astray before. I was met by an entirely different vibe once we entered the poetry lounge. A lady with a long, curly afro stood at the mic in front of a vibrant crowd in a rustic, culturally decorated small room. Everyone was laughing, talking, sipping drinks and enjoying the vibe.

  “Oh damn, help me welcome back one of Miami’s finest adopted poets, Poetically Tash!” the emcee shouted in our direction and the crowd roared with applause and whistles. Tasha halted to blow the emcee a kiss. “We need her to grace the mic tonight, so y’all gotta do a little better than that,” she said and the crowd roared with cheers and clapped even louder.

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  Tasha didn’t tell me she was a spoken word artist. There’s a lot of mystery about my favorite cousin. When I figured my own life out, I planned to take the time to spend more time with Tasha, peeling back her layers. Maybe even find out why she had no trace of a man.

  We found a table in the center of the room and sat down, after purchasing much-needed relaxation in a glass. I ordered a margarita, and Tasha ordered a mojito.

  “So, you come here a lot?” I asked as we got comfortable in our seats. My interest raised, wanting to know more about the type of woman my first female role model that was close to my age had grown into.

  “Yeah, I do actually.”

  The people in that room knew and loved her. She nodded in the direction of a man sitting across the room waving at her. A girl stopped by our table wearing a dashiki shirt, fitted jeans and African designer shoes and hugged Tasha’s neck. They briefly caught up and the colorfully dressed woman left our table.

  “I didn’t know you were into the spoken word,” I said.

  “Yeah, and stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like me spitting poetry is something insane. I like writing and getting shit off my chest. This is a good outlet for both,” Tasha said.

  “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it. I’m just astounded by the fact that you are into the arts like that,” I said, taking another sip from my glass.

  “Whoa, little cuzzo is astounded…”

  “Yes, I am,” I giggled, “…and I’m even more ecstatic that I’ll get to see you perform tonight. In that case, I thank you for bringing me here, and I take back every other thing I said about this…place,” I said. For the first time, I felt good about being at that club.

  “Uh, not going to happen. I brought you here so you can listen to some of the other uplifting, righteous poets in Miami. I’m not gracing the mic though,” she said, shaking her head as if to shake the thought far away from her.

  “I know you’re not chickening out because I’m here. If you’re scared, say you’re scared,” I said, chanting our old challenge song.

  “You calling me scared? That’s funny, when I’m the one who’s been on that very stage in front of knowledge-hungry, woke people more than you have ever spoken publicly. How about you get up there and spit something?” Sh
e crooked her neck and tilted her head as she sneered at me.

  She hadn’t asked me a question. She issued a threat.

  I scanned the room, clearly intimidated by the group, some sporting afros and wearing dashikis, others wearing braids and the latest fashion trends. It’s a crowd of mixed backgrounds and mindsets, and I wasn’t afraid of them from where I sat. Getting up on that big stage and having them all look to me for something thought provoking was a different ball game. The thought sent shivers ricocheting through my chest.

  What would I say?

  My lips moved. A lie exited. “I’m not scared to speak in front of these people, girl. Are you serious?”

  Tasha challenged my flippant response. “Prove it and go sign up for open mic.”

  “So, the open mic is open?” I asked, almost babbling the words on top of each other. The last thing I wanted was get up there and make an utter fool of myself. I would sound like a gibbering idiot if I did. “I mean, is it open to anyone?” I corrected myself.

  Tasha hit the table with the palm of her hand as she laughed uncontrollably. “Ha! You’re funny, and you’re scared as shit. Of course, the mic is open. That’s why they call it open mic,” she said, making air quotes with the two final words.

  Laughing along with her to show I could take her joke, I took another sip from my drink. It was damn near empty now. I need another one…

  “What are you gonna do, Mrs. Bougie?” Tasha said, breaking into my thoughts. “You gonna get up there and say what’s on your mind or are you going to back down after all of your big talk?”

  I looked at the stage and took in a gulp of air. I had made the faux, bold assertion that I was braver than she thought, so I had to roll with it.

  “I’m not backing down, smart ass,” I told Tasha. “I’ll speak my mind on the ‘open mic,’ no problem.”

  What was I saying?

  Of course, I was backing down. As in right now backing down…and leaving this place in my rearview, even if that meant calling a cab.