Southern Love

by Synithia Williams

  He sounds like your best friend. Malcolm’s words rang through her head. So what if he sounded like a friend? Weren’t the best relationships between people who started out as friends? It was time to settle down and grow up. If she wanted to have the stability of a family one day, she had the perfect person to provide that standing in front of her, cooking her dinner.

  She nodded. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

  Brad smiled. “Great.”

  He leaned down to kiss her. Kenyatta waited for his kiss to sweep her way or overwhelm her with passion, but it didn’t come. She wasn’t surprised. Brad’s kisses comforted her, but they didn’t excite her. In an effort to keep from comparing him to Malcolm, she focused on what was pleasurable about his kiss. His lips were soft, but thin. He wasn’t a sloppy kisser, and he had a slender well-built frame. When he deepened the kiss and pushed his hand up her shirt, she pulled back. She expected him to let her go, as he usually did, but he held firm.

  He grimaced. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think we need to slow down.”

  Anger flashed briefly in his eyes, but then hurt replaced his glower. “I’m not Robert, or Chad. I’m your fiancé. I think it’s time.”

  She pushed him away and was grateful when he let her go. “I know you’re not. I never said you were.”

  “So do you still think I’ll leave as soon as we sleep together? Do you trust me so little?”

  “It’s not that. I’m just … it’s been a long day.”

  He smiled and pulled her close again. “All the more reason to release the tension.”

  She pushed away again. “Brad, stop. Not today, please.”

  His gray eyes turned cold. “No, you stop. Stop treating me as if I’m the guys from your past. I’m not just trying to fuck you, Kenyatta. I’m trying to marry you. I’m not Robert who slept with your two best friends, and I’m not Chad who snuck to your neighbor’s house after leaving you. I’m not going to stop calling you the next day or only call after midnight for a booty call.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t think you do. If you’re going to think about marrying me, then you need to think about sleeping with me too.”

  Kenyatta remembered how badly she’d wanted Malcolm in the conference room and wished for a tiny bit of that for Brad. She was sexually frustrated, but not for the person she should be. Malcolm was probably more like Robert and Chad; only wanting her for one thing. Why did she always want the wrong man? Brad was her best choice, she reminded herself.

  Her father introduced her to Brad right after she’d ended it with her previous boyfriend Chad. Just thinking about how she’d caught Chad kissing her next-door neighbor only twenty minutes after leaving her apartment — and her bed — caused her face to burn with embarrassment and anger. She’d sworn off sex right then. Brad didn’t bat an eye when she told him she was celibate. Their friendship had grown naturally over time and six months ago, they made it official and began dating. She knew him better than she’d known Chad, whom she’d jumped into bed with after a date and too much wine. She knew Brad wasn’t with her just for the sex. He was right. If they were going to get married, she would have to take that step; putting it off until after the wedding was archaic.

  “You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll think about our engagement, and if I decide it’s the right thing to do … then it’ll be right to do everything.”

  Brad smiled broadly. “That’s all I can ask for.” He took her hand and kissed it.

  The doorbell rang, and Kenyatta raised an eyebrow. “Who in the world is that?” She looked at Brad.

  He grinned. “Probably Mike and Joi, or Carol and Greg. I invited them over to eat with us.”

  “What? I really wanted to pack and take it easy today and tomorrow. I’ll be gone most of next week.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want to see our friends?” He asked coolly.

  She placed a hand on her hip. “I’m saying, maybe you should have asked me first. We haven’t spoken to each other in three days and suddenly you pop up, and plan a dinner party.”

  “It’s not a dinner party, Kenyatta. It’s just a couple of friends over. You always say we should get our friends together more.” He spoke as if he was explaining a simple equation to a child.

  “But you always say you don’t like being around Carol. What changed in the three days I haven’t talked to you?”

  “I’m just trying to show you how much I want us to work. So much so that I’ll put up with Carol. Is there anything wrong with that?”

  Kenyatta sighed and looked away. She battled between believing this was a real attempt on Brad’s part to work out their differences and thinking it was just another way to manipulate the situation. He’d always been adamant that he didn’t like spending time with Carol. Could breaking their engagement shake him up enough that he’d hang out with her friend?

  When she looked back at Brad, he was staring at her with pleading gray eyes. The doorbell rang again and the timer on the stove went off. His enchiladas were done.

  She smiled tightly. “I’ll get the door.”

  He visibly relaxed. “I promise to ask the next time.” He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

  The doorbell rang a third time and with a sigh, Kenyatta walked out of the kitchen to answer it. Mike and Joi were there. Mike picked her up in a huge hug.

  “What’s up, girl? I told Brad we wanted a spades re-match. Prepare for an ass cutting.”

  He let her go and Joi stepped over to hug Kenyatta. “He’s been talking about y’all beating us for three days. So I hope you got your card table ready?”

  Kenyatta laughed. “It’s always ready. Come on in.”

  “Did I hear someone say spades? You know I’m ready to play.” Carol entered followed closely by her husband Greg. The saying opposites attract had to apply to Carol and Greg. Her yellow halter top, skin-tight jean capris and matching yellow-heeled sandals were a stark contrast to his plain Heart Association T-shirt and jean shorts.

  “Well I hope you’re ready to lose.” Kenyatta said, hugging her friend and Greg.

  Mike and Joi stood awkwardly in the hall watching the friends greet each other. Greg was open with his hello, it was frosty on the part of Carol.

  Greg held up a twelve-pack of beer. “Where can I put these?”

  “Stick them in the freezer so they’ll cool off quickly.” She said. “Brad just finished his enchiladas.”

  Carol looked skeptical. “Can he cook? You know I don’t eat everybody’s cooking?”

  Mike’s chest puffed up. “My boy knows what he’s doing when it comes to Mexican food. Don’t know where he gets it from, but you’ll enjoy it.”

  Carol shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  Kenyatta shook her head. “Come on y’all. Let’s get out of the entryway.”

  They followed her to the living room. Greg detoured into the kitchen to put the beers in the freezer and Mike followed. She heard them greeting Brad.

  “Do you think you should help Brad?” Joi asked.

  “Why, he put together this party, he can handle things,” Carol said, falling onto Kenyatta’s couch. “So I hear you’re leaving town Monday. When were you gonna inform me and Angie?”

  Kenyatta rolled her eyes and sat beside Carol. “I told Angie when I dropped the girls off earlier. I was going to call you tonight, but Brad invited you guys over so now I don’t have to call.”

  “You didn’t know he called us? So he just plans stuff in your house without you knowing?”

  Kenyatta laughed. “It’s not that serious, Carol. He was making dinner and invited friends over. Nothing’s wrong with that.” She avoided Carol’s eyes when she answered by looking at Joi, who smiled approvingly.

  “I’m so glad he called. We don’t see you guys en
ough,” Joi said.

  Carol looked between the two. “Didn’t you just see each other earlier this week?”

  Joi blinked as if Carol’s question threw her off. “Well, yeah, but in general we don’t see them enough.”

  Carol shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned to Kenyatta. “So who else is going to Orlando? Your boss going?”

  Kenyatta heard the suggestive tone to Carol’s voice and decided to lie. “No. Just me and a few people you don’t know.”

  Carol frowned. “That sucks.”

  Before she could answer, Brad, Mike, and Greg joined them in the living room.

  “It’s good to see you again, Carol.” Brad said. He came over and gave Carol a hug before sitting on the arm of the chair next to Kenyatta.

  Carol looked at Brad like he was a mental patient. “Good seeing you too, Brad.”

  Brad smiled at Carol. “Greg was telling me you guys were thinking about going to Charleston for your anniversary next month. My parents have a summer home on the Isle of Palms. If you’re interested, you’re welcome to use it.”

  Carol and Kenyatta’s jaws dropped, and they stared at Brad.

  Greg was quick to speak up. “Hey, Brad, I appreciate that.”

  Carol shook her head as if to clear it. “Thanks, we’ll let you know.”

  Kenyatta suppressed a smile. Based on Carol’s airy tone of voice, she knew she would rather die than ask Brad for a favor.

  Kenyatta looked up at Brad. “Are you sure your parents wouldn’t mind?”

  He smiled and squeezed her shoulders. “They let friends use it all the time. Carol and Greg are our friends.” He emphasized the word our and Kenyatta looked away. She suddenly remembered Malcolm kissing her a few hours before. His hand underneath her skirt and her unbridled response. Brad was truly trying and she — like a fool — had been drooling over her boss.

  She reached up to place her hand on Brad’s before looking back at him and smiling. “That’s sweet.”

  “Sweet enough to give you diabetes,” said Carol. “So are we gonna eat?”

  Brad winced before smiling. “Everything’s ready. Come on, fellas, we can put the food out for our queens.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead and stood. Greg and Michael grumbled half-heartedly and followed him.

  Joi began asking Kenyatta about the upcoming conference while the men set the food in the dining area. Carol didn’t participate; she stared at Kenyatta with narrowed eyes. Kenyatta guessed Carol was upset about Brad’s offer, but she couldn’t see why. Brad said he was trying, and based on the offer of his parent’s summer home, she had to admire his efforts.

  Five minutes later, the guys were calling them over to sit down and eat. Conversation flowed smoothly between the men. Once Brad asked Greg if he was ready for the University of South Carolina football season to start in the next few weeks, that was all they could talk about. Brad’s parents were season ticket holders and they purchased multiple parking passes for tailgating. Greg almost choked on his beer when Brad not only offered for him to come tailgating, but said they may have extra tickets to the Carolina-Clemson rivalry game.

  Conversation between the women wasn’t as easy. Every time Joi tried to bring up the wedding, Carol changed the subject. It soon became obvious and Joi stopped trying. Kenyatta knew Carol’s behavior was rude, but she was thankful for it. Their friends didn’t know the engagement was off, even if temporarily, and she wanted to keep it that way for now. But when Greg excitedly tapped Carol on the shoulder and said they’d start tailgating with Brad and his family, Kenyatta knew her friend had had it.

  “Kenyatta, where’s your ring?” Carol asked suddenly and loudly. Everyone at the table became silent and all eyes went to Kenyatta’s left hand.

  “I’m getting it sized.” Brad answered. “It was a little loose on Kenyatta’s finger.”

  “It looked like a perfect fit when I saw it.”

  Brad glared at Carol. “Looks can be deceiving.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Carol finished off her beer. “Excuse me, I’m going to the little girls’ room.” She pushed away from the table and walked down the hall toward the restroom.

  “Who’s ready for cards?” Mike asked. He looked around the table enthusiastically.

  “I’ll put the dishes away and we’ll be ready,” Brad answered. “Why don’t you all go out on Kenyatta’s patio? It’s after six, so it shouldn’t be as hot outside.”

  “I’ll help you,” Kenyatta said.

  Kenyatta and Brad began cleaning off the table, while Mike, Joi, and Greg went to sit on the patio. Kenyatta loaded dishes in the dishwasher while Brad packed leftovers. Neither of them spoke. She knew he’d been trying hard, too hard, to get along with Greg and Carol, and that Carol’s reaction upset him.

  Once the dishwasher was loaded, and he still hadn’t spoken, she turned to see if he was finished with the leftovers. He was leaning against the kitchen counter watching her. Frustration and desire burning in his eyes.

  “I see why I don’t invite Carol over often.” He said softly.

  Kenyatta smiled. “You are laying it on a bit thick. The home in Charleston, tailgating, tickets to the Clemson game. It’s a complete one-eighty.”

  He stalked across the kitchen to stand beside her. “How do you put up with her?”

  “Carol and I have been there for each other since college. Yes, she’s abrasive, but in the end I know she’s got my back.”

  “I’m glad you’re not like her.” He reached over to brush her cheek. “I couldn’t have a wife that strong willed. The effort required to tame her is more than even I would want.”

  Kenyatta pulled back. “Tame her? Is that what you want to do with me? Tame me?”

  Brad shook his head. “No, no, no. You’re misunderstanding me. There’s no compromise in her relationship with Greg. I think he needs to take a firmer hand.”

  She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Brad closed his eyes. “Nothing. What they do has no reflection on us.” He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Are you ready to beat Mike and Joi again?”

  His comment still bothered her, but now wasn’t the time to confront him. She knew he didn’t like arguing when friends were around. And she didn’t like arguing when Carol was around.

  “Sure. I’m going to get that bottle of wine out of the fridge and bring it out.” She moved toward the fridge, but his hand shot out to grab her arm.

  “Didn’t you have a beer at dinner?”

  “Yes, but a glass of wine won’t hurt. I’m at home, and won’t be driving.”

  “I don’t like it when you drink.”

  Kenyatta laughed. “You say that as if I make getting drunk a habit. I had one beer and am going to share a bottle of wine with six people. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  She moved but he increased his grip and pulled her back. “Let me rephrase that, I don’t want you to drink.”

  Kenyatta gazed from his hand to his face. “I think you need to let me go.”

  “I think you need to let her go, too.” Carol’s voice came from behind them.

  Brad immediately dropped his hand and stepped away. If looks could kill, Brad would be dead on the floor from the daggers shooting from Carol’s gaze. Kenyatta swallowed a groan. She knew Carol would jump to the wrong conclusion.

  “It’s okay, Carol.”

  “Does he grab you all the time?” She didn’t take her eyes off Brad.

  His brows flickered. “No, I don’t grab her. I wasn’t grabbing her. I was trying to keep her from getting more to drink.”

  “What was she going for, a pint of gin?”

  Brad lifted his hands in defeat. “Forget it. I was just showing some concern. But you’re right, it’s no big deal.” He rubbed Kenyatta’s arm where he grabbed it. �
�I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I would never hurt you.”

  Kenyatta nodded. “I know.”

  He smiled before brushing past Carol on his way out of the kitchen.

  “What the hell was that? Does he do that often?”

  “Carol, calm down please. I know your history makes you think every man is crazy, but Brad didn’t do anything.”

  “Then why were you telling him to let you go?”

  Kenyatta shrugged. “Because I wanted him to let me get the wine. Nothing more.”

  Carol flipped her hair and frowned. “I don’t like him.”

  Kenyatta feigned shock. “That’s such a surprise. As if your constant downing of him didn’t tell me that already.” She lowered her voice. “Look, I know you disagree with my reasons for marrying him, but that doesn’t give you the right to be rude to him. He’s trying.”

  “He’s trying too hard. Calling us out of the blue like he did. Come on, Kenyatta, what’s up with that?”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “Because I had to see what he’s up to. Sizing your ring my ass, you’ve got cold feet and he knows it. So now he thinks he’s gonna sweet talk me into telling you he’s okay, think again.”

  Kenyatta stepped up to her friend. “No, you think again. I don’t say a damn thing about how you walk all over Greg — and don’t bother to deny it — because I know deep down you love him. I do love Brad.” The memory of Malcolm kissing her flooded her mind, but she plowed on.

  “One day, I will be in love with Brad, so step off and stay out of my relationship.”

  Carol glared at Kenyatta for a second before stepping back. “You want to make a mess of your life, fine. I’ve said my piece. I’ll even make sure you’re twenty minutes early for your damn wedding.”

  Kenyatta took a deep breath then reached over and hugged Carol. “I know you’re doing this because you love me, but please, trust me.”