Trevor parked in front of Ruby’s big Tudor house and turned to her. “I’m really not in the mood for coffee.”
“Thanks for the pleasant company,” she said, allowing herself to sound insincere, and opened the door. However, Trevor hurried around to assist her, and she was glad he did, for she could barely maneuver in the slim sheath. When he walked with her to the front door, she told herself that inviting Opal and D’marcus for coffee was one of the smartest things she’d done.
She opened the door and, without entering, said to him, “Thanks again. Good night.” She extended her hand, but he ignored it.
“Good night, Ruby. It isn’t often I get to escort the belle of the ball. Be seeing you.”
She let out a long sigh of relief when Trevor met Opal and D’marcus on the walkway and nodded, but didn’t hesitate.
“Still want to make coffee?” Ruby asked her.
“Sure. Come on in.”
“He’s a decent enough guy,” D’marcus said. “What happened that caused you to dump him like that?”
“He got too possessive.”
“Maybe he got uptight when Luther kissed you,” Opal said. “Of course, it’s none of my business, but what was Luther mad about? He didn’t seem affectionate. And last night, you two acted like you hardly knew each other. I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I,” Ruby said and headed for the kitchen, grateful she had to make the coffee. When she returned to the living room with a tray, she stopped and stared at the newlyweds locked in a sizzling kiss. It hadn’t take them long to switch their minds off her and Luther, she thought. She put the tray on the coffee table and cleared her throat.
“I hope you and Luther straighten out whatever’s wrong between you,” D’marcus said, picking up the conversation where they’d left it. “He’s a great guy, and this family is very important to him. Who knows? Something could even develop between you two.”
Didn’t she wish! But Luther wanted no part of her, and he’d made that clear. Even when she’d shamelessly kissed him back tonight, hoping to let him know how he made her feel, he’d pushed her away. He’d done it gently, but he’d done it, and that told her more than words could have. Why did he have to be the man to teach her what lovemaking was all about, to cherish her as if she were the rarest gem and to make her explode again and again in orgasm? He wasn’t the first, but he was the only one who mattered.
She sipped the coffee and remembered D’marcus’s comment. “Me and Luther?” she exclaimed. “I was pie-eyed about him when I was three. I’m grown up now.” She looked at her brother-in-law with one raised eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that be a humdinger!”
Ruby slept late New Year’s morning and awakened feeling lost. For the first time in her memory, she didn’t feel like calling Luther to wish him a Happy New Year. Her reluctance to talk to him sprang from her fear that he would reject her gesture. How times had changed. Luther had been her solid rock, and now she feared calling him. Who would ever have imagined it?
She scrambled out of bed, showered, dressed and went downstairs to cook her breakfast. “If this is what the remainder of the year will be like,” she said to herself, “I’m not looking forward to it.”
After breakfast she decided to do her laundry. Nostalgia gripped her when she took the bedding from the hamper, remembered her lovemaking with Luther and thought how ephemeral happiness could be. She sat down on a stool in the laundry room and mused about her chances of finding that feeling with someone else.
I want to find out more about it while I’m still young and I can enjoy it, and I’m going to. Luther wouldn’t have noticed me last night if I hadn’t been wearing that sexy red dress, so I’m going shopping.
She spent the remainder of the day purging her clothing, most of which was better suited for a woman twice her age. The following Monday morning she called the Salvation Army. Then she went shopping.
She didn’t have to be told that the fashionable clothes, shoes and accessories she bought raised eyebrows, and with her hair cut in a pixie style and three-inch-heeled suede boots on her feet, she attracted a lot of glances. As she strolled through Twelve Oaks Mall, she couldn’t believe the amount of male attention she received.
A few evenings later when she walked into her house, the telephone began to ring and, thinking that the caller was one of her sisters, as was usually the case, she dashed to the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello. This is Lawrence Hill. I hope you remember me. We met at the Harvest Ball the day after Thanksgiving, and I remember how well you dance. I’m calling to ask if you’d go with me to the local Kappa dance Saturday. I’d be honored.”
“Yes, I do remember you,” she said. “Let me think about this a little bit. Call me tomorrow evening. It’s formal, isn’t it?”
“Black tie. I’ll call about this time tomorrow, if you don’t mind, and I hope you’re going to say yes.”
“We’ll see. Thanks for calling, and have a pleasant evening.” They said goodbye and she hung up. You bet, she remembered Lawrence Hill. Who could miss him? The man was a stud if she’d ever seen one, but she’d turned over a new leaf; she was no longer the family wallflower who stood by while her sisters found their mates, fell in love and married. Not that she wasn’t happy for them. Lord knows she was, but there had always been that little voice inside that asked, “Why not me?” Maybe she’d go out with Lawrence Hill, and maybe she wouldn’t. If things were normal, she’d phone Luther and ask his views on the matter, but life was lopsided there right now, so she called D’marcus instead.
“Do you happen to know Lawrence Hill?” she asked him.
“If it’s the guy I’m thinking about, he’s a fraternity brother. Seems nice enough if you can handle a stiff dose of ego.”
“He asked me to go to the frat dance with him Saturday after next.”
“Must not be the same Lawrence. I don’t know of a Kappa dance coming up anywhere near here.”
She didn’t press it. “Thanks. Must not be the same guy,” she said, but she knew it was the same man.
She gave it to Lawrence Hill straight when he called and asked her, “Well, what will it be? I’ve waited impatiently all day for your answer.”
“I can’t imagine why, Mr. Hill. I spoke with my brother-in-law who I think you know. D’marcus Armstrong. He said the local Kappa fraternity isn’t having a dance on Saturday. Goodbye.” She hung up without giving him a chance to speak. Was he planning to say the dance had been postponed and then suggest that they go some place else? She wished she hadn’t been so hasty. It would have been fun to watch him wiggle out of the hole he’d dug for himself.
If this was a sample of the current dating game, Ruby didn’t want any part of it. With her sisters married as her mother wished, she could at last focus on her career, and that was what she planned to do.
Fine particles of snow dusted her face as she stepped out of her house and strode to the waiting taxi, her form of transportation until her car was serviced. She loved her work at Everyday Opportunities, Inc., and with her family responsibilities behind her, she was in a position to develop the consulting firm into a huge business. After all, small businesses employed more people than corporations did. In an expansive mood, she overtipped the taxi driver and marched with buoyant steps into the building that housed the consultancy, greeting employees and building attendants as she went. She hung up her coat and headed for her office, the company’s second most spacious accommodation.
“Looking good this morning, Miss Lockhart,” one of the clerks told her, his white teeth sparking against his nut-brown face.
Her new shoes, with the pointed toes and spiked heels, didn’t feel good on her feet, but apparently they made her look good. She gave the clerk a bright smile.
“Yes, indeed,” said her secretary, who happened by at that moment. “With those legs, Miss Lockhart, you ought to pitch all your flats straight into the garbage. ‘If you got it, flaunt it.’ That’s what my brother always said, God
rest his soul.”
Such comments gave Ruby courage to accept as normal that men found her interesting and wanted her company, though it was a new experience. She kept that in mind when Joel Coleman, owner and operator of Diet Sensibly, Inc., a small business that she counseled, invited her to dinner. She accepted.
“Who’s the new man in your life?” Joel asked her as they waited for the first course.
She scrutinized him for a second to see if his question implied a hidden motive, decided that it didn’t and relaxed her face into a slight smile. “Why do you think there is one?”
“We’ve known each other for about four months and suddenly you’re a changed woman. That usually means a new love interest.”
“If that’s the case, why am I having dinner with you?”
Joel leaned back in the chair, poised, with a self-possessed air, and smiled. “I didn’t have the nerve to ask that question. Why are you having dinner with me?”
She realized that she hadn’t given the man his due. He was not only a clever businessman, he had a mind that served him well. “I thought you’d be a pleasant date. Was I wrong?” She added the latter in order to level the playing field; the man was sharp, and she meant to let him know that the trait wasn’t confined to him.
His left eyebrow rose slowly. “In other words, back off. Right? I try to be as pleasant as possible.” A few seconds passed, and he added, “Whenever possible.”
“Hmm. I don’t think I’ll ask about the occasions when it’s not possible to be pleasant.”
His shrug and half smile suggested that nothing could be gained by pursuing the matter. While they consumed as good a meal as she’d had in a long time and she discovered that they had much in common, she sensed a restlessness, an undercurrent of edginess in him that put her on guard. There’d be no invitation to come in for coffee when he took her home, she promised herself. This brother could be too difficult to control.
“Would you like to go to a night spot?” he asked her as they left the restaurant. “Brock Madison’s Trio is performing nearby.”
“I’d love to, Joel, but I have to get up early in the morning.”
“If you’re sure,” he said.
She couldn’t help being on edge. She hadn’t wrestled with a male since her early teens, the age at which the boys she knew confused no with go ahead. She imagined that some never got the responses straight in their heads.
“Since you have to get up so early,” Joel said as they stood in her open front door. “I don’t suppose I can expect a nightcap. But I would like a kiss.”
Like a thunderbolt the realization hit her that she didn’t want Joel or any man other than Luther to kiss her. She turned away just as he came in for the kiss.
“That’s what I suspected. Thanks for a pleasant evening.” With that, he strode down the walk whistling the “Toreador’s Song” from the opera, Carmen.
She closed the door, thinking that, if she had hurt his feelings, he certainly intended her to see that her rejection meant nothing to him. She could do without Joel Coleman, Lawrence Hill and Trevor Johns. In fact, she could do without any man who didn’t spell his name L-u-t-h-e-r B-i-g-g-e-n-s.
But she couldn’t imagine a future with the man she’d known almost all her life.
Deciding that it was past time he got on with his life, Luther drove slowly along Ford Road, organizing his thoughts and formulating the arguments he would need to convince his family to accept his proposal. He reached his parents’ home in Dearborn, Michigan, a few minutes before noon on the second of January.
“Happy New Year, everybody,” he said as he strolled into the den where his parents, his sister Glenda and his brothers Charles and Robert sat around the fireplace roasting nuts and enjoying the still-sparkling Christmas tree. They all jumped up when he walked in, but stood back until Irma hugged her oldest son first.
“We thought you’d never get here, son,” Jack Biggens said. “Your mother’s got the bread ready to bake, but she knows how you like to walk in and smell it perfuming the place. Come on over here and have a seat.”
He hugged his father, handed him a bottle of Scotch and greeted his siblings. “Mom, are you baking the bread here in the fireplace as usual?”
“Beats the oven anytime,” she said. “It’ll be ready in about forty-five minutes, just in time for lunch.”
He sat down and began cracking pecans, his favorite nut. “We got a lovely poinsettia from Ruby,” Glenda said. “I haven’t seen her for a while. How is she?”
He didn’t come there to talk about Ruby, and he didn’t intend to. “Ruby’s fine, as far as I know. When are you going back to school, Charles?”
“Classes start the tenth, so I’ll be leaving Friday.”
Their conversation roamed over a myriad of topics and, as usual, he enjoyed the love and camaraderie with his family. After lunch he decided that the time had come to tell them what he wanted. He waited until they’d left the table and were back in the den.
“I’ve been managing the dealerships ever since I recovered from that accident and left the service,” he began. “Dad’s ready to retire, Glenda doesn’t live anywhere near a dealership, Robert’s got his own thriving company, and Charles has never been interested in the automobile business. I hired an accountant to estimate the worth of the business, and I want to buy you out.” He heard the gasps, noted that they didn’t come from his parents and continued.
“I’ll buy five-sixths of that amount from you, and you can split it among yourselves as you see fit.”
“That wouldn’t be fair, son,” Jack Biggens said. “Since you’ve been the manager, you’ve increased the holdings and the profits. I think you should get a quarter, and that’s what I’m proposing.”
“You mean we’re going to sell to Luther?” Charles asked.
“Why not?” Jack said. “He busts his butt at it every single day, and you don’t give him a hand when you’re in town. I say we take a vote.”
“No vote’s necessary. I say we just do what’s right,” Irma said. “If the five of us split three-fourths of the proceeds, it’s just and right.”
Luther knew that, when his mother put her foot down, his siblings would fall in step.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll send the contract over before Charles goes back to the university. It’s a load off my shoulders.”
As he headed home, an icy mist threatened to make driving impossible, and he stopped several times to deice the windshield. He didn’t make New Year’s resolutions, but as he walked into his house, he promised himself that he would get over his almost lifelong passion for Ruby Lockhart. Pain lodged in the region of his heart when he let himself recall how, on that one night when she was his, she’d moved beneath him, rocking to his rhythm like an ocean wave undulating beneath the moon.
“It hurts,” he said aloud. “But she’ll never know how much.”
He wasted no time drawing up his plans to modernize the business and, before he went to bed that night, he knew where and how he’d start. “I’ll have my hands too full to think about Ruby, much less see her.”
However, Luther’s role in Ruby’s life remained basically as it had always been.
As she sped down the Edsel Ford Parkway three days after New Year’s, a blue SUV swiped the left side of Ruby’s car and sent it spinning into the right lane. She’d never prayed so hard in her life as she did while struggling to control her car. When it finally stopped on the right shoulder of the highway, she got out, wrote down the plate number of the offending vehicle and stood beside the driver’s door of her car waiting for the driver of the SUV. A big, lumbering man got out of the SUV half a city block away and started toward her but, unsure of what to expect, her nerves rioted throughout her body, and she took out her cell phone and dialed the one person she always relied on.
“Hello.”
“Luther, it’s Ruby.” The words rolled out of her at a rapid-fire rate. “I’m on Route 12, and somebody just hit my car. He’s a huge ma
n, and he just got out of his SUV and he’s headed this way. Maybe I should just—”
“Get in your car and stay in it,” he said. “Lock the door and roll down the window just enough to speak with him. Did you call the police?”
“I forgot. I’ll call them now. Look, the man’s almost here, so I’d better hang up.”
“You’ll do no such thing. Keep that phone open and right where he can see it. Where are you on twelve?’
“Just past the intersection of Route 94 headed to Detroit.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
She hurried back into her car, closed and locked the door, rolled down the window about two inches and dialed the police. It hadn’t occurred to her to be afraid or even especially cautious, but she trusted Luther as she always had, and when the big man reached her car, huffing and puffing for air, she was on her guard.
“When did you get your driver’s license?” he yelled. His breath gave her the real reason for his having nearly run her off the highway.
“I’ve been driving for…let’s see…about thirteen years, and I’ve never had an accident. Please let me see your driver’s license.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re out of your mother-loving mind, lady. You hit me.”
“No matter who hit whom,” she said keeping her voice low and calm, “we have to exchange information, don’t we?” She didn’t dare rattle the man, and she wanted to keep him there until the police arrived. She was beginning to wish she hadn’t called Luther, because the man’s belligerent manner suggested that he’d use any excuse for a fight.
“Look,” she said, “we have to settle this. I’ll write my information out and give it to you.” She reached into the glove compartment, got a small pad and a pencil and handed it to him through the slightly open window. “You write your info out for me on that little pad, and we’ll be on our way.”
“You’re a slick one,” he said. “I wouldn’t trust a woman as far as I could throw her. It’ll cost me four or five hundred bucks to get my car painted. You can give me the cash or a check, I don’t care which. But if the check bounces, expect to see me again.”
Forbidden Temptation Page 4
