He couldn’t even blame it on an overwhelming rush of desire. It was a slow burn which started the day before. He’d given her plenty of time to pull away, and she hadn’t. Then she’d made that sound, half whimper, half moan, and his dick became rock solid. He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted Shayla Monroe, had wanted her for years, and right now he couldn’t resist her.
She tried to pull away, but he wasn’t finished. His grip tightened and he turned her head to plant his lips firmly against hers. His tongue slid over her lower lip, anticipating getting inside her mouth. When her soft lips parted, he wrapped his arm around her small waist and pulled her closer. He lifted her a few inches off the ground so her full breasts pressed against the center of his chest. Her arms shot around his neck, her right hand running across the tight coils of his hair, causing a tremor to go through his body. Her hand slowly slid from the back to the side of his head. Her small fingers curled around his earlobe, sending currents of desire through him.
His grip tightened. If he didn’t stop he was going to fuck her. There was no denying it. There was enough common sense left in him to know that didn’t need to happen. Having sex with Shayla would only complicate matters. He’d tried casual affairs, and they didn’t work. She planned to move on, live an exciting life somewhere else. He wanted to stay in Helena, run his practice, and grow old here. Just like before, he’d want more from her than she’d be willing to give, and he wasn’t horny enough to risk it.
He slowly broke the kiss. Her eyes were out of focus, her hand still curled around his ear. She blinked a few times before meeting his gaze. Damn, he loved her eyes. Tipped exotically at the corners, large and dark, just one look from beneath her lashes always sent his heart into overdrive. Now they were filled with desire, longing, and uncertainty.
He licked his lips before speaking. “I came to apologize for last night.”
“You’re forgiven.” She whispered. She rubbed his ear with one hand while the other stroked his hair.
His dick leaped in his pants. “We can’t do this.”
For a second he thought she would argue, before resignation settled over her features. With a bland smile she said, “You’re right.”
Slightly disappointed she didn’t argue, he gently pushed her away. He cleared his throat and straightened the front of his khakis, but the bulge in his pants was prominent. Her eyes focused on it before she blinked and turned to sit on the small leather sofa.
“So, let’s skip the whole we’ll pretend this didn’t happen conversation, and you can get right to telling me why you decided to apologize for yesterday,” she said.
Gratitude fought with annoyance at the way she easily changed the subject. It was best to take gratitude’s side. He sat on the edge of the couch making sure to keep as much space as possible between them. He would have preferred to sit somewhere else, but there were no other chairs in the small living room.
He rested his arms on his thighs and rubbed his hands together. “I didn’t like it today when everyone dumped the blame on you for the affair. They didn’t know, or care, about what really happened. I wasn’t any better. Worse even, because you told me what happened when you didn’t have to.” He turned his head and looked at her. “I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”
She took a deep breath before shaking her head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You only did what you’ve always done and held me accountable for my mistakes. At the time, I thought he cared and I let that justify what I did. Even when I suspected he may not go through with the divorce.”
“He lied to you.”
She shrugged. “He wasn’t the first, and he won’t be the last. Next time I won’t be dumb enough to fall for a married man’s game.” She fingered the small, gold heart resting at the base of her throat.
“You deserve more.” He sat back and brought his leg on the couch as he faced her.
She lowered her head before glancing at him through her lashes. “You’ve always said that. That’s one of the reasons I love y … ” she cleared her throat and sat up. “Loved being your friend.” She glanced around the room then asked. “So how’s your dad?”
It took a second for her question to register. Had she really almost confessed to … he didn’t complete the thought. Shayla claimed to love him once before and broke his heart hours later.
“Other than ignoring his high blood pressure and diabetes, he’s good.” He said.
Concern crinkled her brow. “Is he really sick?”
He shook his head. “No, just stubborn. This morning he said he didn’t need to eat right because that’s what the pills were for.”
Shayla laughed; it was a deep and throaty laugh that sent chills across his skin. He watched her throat vibrate with the movement and wanted to run his lips across the smooth column. He twisted in his seat as his dick went back to half swollen.
“That sounds like your dad.” A wistful smile brushed across her lips. “Some of my best memories of this town are sitting around the dinner table with you and him. Maybe I’ll go see him.”
The memories filtered through his mind and he smiled. “He would like that, but he’s not in the old house. After Delores died, he moved out in the county.”
The happiness on her face was replaced with sadness. “I was sorry when I heard about her passing. I sent flowers with my condolences.”
“I didn’t know that.”
She glanced at him. “He didn’t tell you? I’ve kept in touch with him every year, mostly through Christmas cards, but I called when Delores died.”
He floundered in the silence. On one hand he was touched she’d kept in touch with his dad. On the other he was angry she never reached out to him, and that his dad never told him about it.
“You reached out to him, but not me.” His words were solemn.
Her eyes met his. “I reached out to you once, and you didn’t want to talk to me.”
He couldn’t deny that. She’d called him during her freshman year of college, and he hadn’t wanted to talk to her. It was right after Tony and Peaches visited her, and Tony had called him, bragging about how he still had control over Shayla before giving a play by play of their most recent sexual encounter. He’d foolishly hoped they could try and reconnect after graduation. That once she was away from Tony, she’d come back to him, but that hope was dashed with one phone call.
“I didn’t feel like talking … after Tony updated me on his visit.”
She frowned. “What visit?”
“When he came to Spelman with Peaches.”
“He didn’t come with Peaches. He wanted to. She called to tell me he was coming. I told her to stay home if that was the case.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. I went to Atlanta to get away from him, why would I want him to visit?”
Devin frowned as he looked at her. “He told me you two had sex.”
She winced. “I never willingly slept with Tony.”
A vision of Shayla and Tony in bed together flashed through his brain. He shook his head to clear them away. “We both know that’s not true.”
She scowled. “Do we?”
Before he could respond there was a knock at the door. Shayla groaned and rolled her eyes. He watched as she went to the door, his mind whirling over what she’d said. Tony lying about sleeping with her wasn’t surprising. His friendship with Tony died after high school, but when he saw Tony around town he still had a story about the latest woman whose back he’d blown out. But her saying she’d never willingly slept with Tony was like a slap in the face. He knew what he’d seen, and it wasn’t Shayla fighting Tony off. If that was the case, he’d have killed Tony that night.
Two voices shrieked, “Shayla!” when she opened the door. With his own suppressed groan he recognized Roxanne’s and Peaches’s voices.
> “What’s up, ladies,” Shayla said. Her voice was full of false cheerfulness and a small smile played on his lips. Just like old times.
He stood and went to the door. Even though his truck was in the driveway, both Peaches and Roxanne’s eyebrows raised to their hairlines. They hadn’t changed much since high school. They still had that round the way girl look: hair extensions, eyelash extensions, flashy costume jewelry and even flashier clothes. They could’ve been twins except Roxanne had short hair with a blonde bang and more ass than any other woman in town, while Peaches’s jet black extensions hung to the center of her back.
“Oh, my goodness, Devin’s here, too!” Roxanne said waving a hand in the air. “I told Jermaine and Tony to come with us, it would’ve been a high school reunion.”
Peaches only looked between him and Shayla with a smirk. She’d always hated on his friendship with Shayla. Mostly because he never followed up any of her attempts to get with him. She’d accuse him of turning her down because he was waiting to catch Shayla between boyfriends. Her accusation was correct, but that was only part of it. He’d never felt Peaches that way.
Shayla stiffened slightly before asking Roxanne, “You’re still with Jermaine?”
Roxanne nodded. “Girl, yeah, we’ve got two kids. Jermaine Jr. and Jordan. He wanted to say what’s up, but said he’d see you next Saturday?
“What?” Shayla asked.
Peaches grinned. “Yes, when we have your welcome back party. We reserved the VIP section at Club Voracious.”
Devin fought the urge to cringe. Tony’s club. It was almost fitting that the guy she picked over him would throw her a welcome home party.
Shayla frowned. “Club Voracious? You really shouldn’t have gone through so much trouble.”
Peaches sucked her teeth. “Don’t act like that. You’re my girl, and you know I love a reason to party. Besides, Voracious is Tony’s club. He opened it about ten years ago. Unless you want to go to Columbia, Voracious is the only place to have a good time in this town. When I told Tony it was for you, he didn’t charge us, just reserved his best spot.” Peaches’s eyes slid to Devin. “You can come too, Devin. You ain’t been to Tony’s club before. It’ll be a good way to get everyone back together. I know Tony’s looking forward to catching up with Shayla,” she smirked. “Or have you already done that?”
Shayla laughed and playfully patted his arm before he could answer. She moved her hand until her fingers dug into his biceps as she said too cheerfully, “Girl, please. Devin just came by to check on me. I fell and twisted my ankle yesterday and he helped me out. Apparently he’s a dedicated doctor.”
Roxanne humped. “Apparently.”
“Anyway, I appreciate the party — ”
Peaches raised a hand. “I know you not so high class you can’t party with us no more?”
Shayla’s grip tightened on his arm. “You can’t let me finish? I appreciate the party because I’ve been bored out of my mind.”
Roxanne and Peaches’s both grinned. Shayla glanced at him before moving her hand to high five with Peaches and Roxanne. Despite her claims, her smile was brittle and her shoulders stiff. She was back to playing the party girl. Something she’d done constantly in high school instead of rocking the boat. He wasn’t in the mood to relive the social dynamics of his youth.
He placed a hand on Shayla’s shoulder. Some of her tension eased and he squeezed gently. “I’m leaving now. I’m glad your ankle’s feeling better. Don’t hesitate to call if it bothers you.” He should have asked about her ankle before, but completely forgot after kissing her. She still had it wrapped, but wasn’t limping. He expected she’d be back to 100 percent by the weekend.
The corners of her smile softened as she met his eyes. “You’re coming to the party?”
The last thing he wanted to do was spend a penny in Tony’s club. But the way she glanced at him with pleading note in her eye stopped his negative response.
“I think I can make it.”
Roxanne’s eyes widened. “What, you actually gonna party with us?”
Devin shrugged. “Might as well make it a real reunion.”
Peaches frowned and a grateful look came to Shayla’s eye. He could guess what Peaches’s problem was, but he would party with them every weekend to get Shayla to look at him like that. With a mental shake to rid himself of that idea, he nodded before walking off the porch.
Chapter 7
Shayla let her breath out in a huff and tapped her hand against her leg. When the woman ahead of her in line at Piggly Wiggly looked at her, she smiled tightly in a weak attempt to hide her annoyance. What was supposed to be a quick trip into the grocery store for bread and lunch meat had quickly turned into a long wait. The lines were ridiculous, everyone had a buggy full of groceries, and there were only three registers open. She tried to summon some small amount of patience as the woman ahead of her double checked the price of every item rung up and handed the cashier one or two coupons per item.
“No, no, that soup is buy one get one free. I saw it in the paper,” the lady said pulling out the sales ad.
The teenager at the register sighed before answering. “It’s not this soup, ma’am. It’s the ones with the blue label. Everyone’s making that mistake today.”
The lady looked at her paper then the dozen cans of soup in her buggy. “Oh. Well, can you wait a second for me to go get the right one?”
“Oh, good Lord!” Shayla hissed under her breath. She tried to peer over the candy display at the people in line next to her, but from what she could see it wasn’t any better over there. She was tempted to leave the damn bread and walk out. Someone behind her chuckled. She whipped her head around, ready to lacerate whoever found the situation amusing. Her words were forgotten as Devin and his dad approached with a cart behind her.
“Are you laughing at me?”
Devin continued to smile as he walked around his cart to stand beside her. “Yes. You were never patient in check out lines.” He reached over to gently massage the back of her neck. “Calm down.”
The urge to melt into his hands was strong. He used to do the same thing whenever she was nervous or upset when they were in high school. She never understood where his endless amount of patience came from, but it always balanced her need to keep moving. She turned to gaze at him and his hand stopped its massage. Heat slid across her body and she shivered when his thumb gently rubbed her throat. His fingers flexed and brushed against the hair at the base of her neck, reminding her of the way he gripped her head and kissed her earlier in the week. She was right to skip the “we’ll pretend it never happened” speech because she’d never forget what it was like to kiss Devin. Never stop wanting to kiss him, but she wouldn’t repeat it. Her reputation was damaged enough.
She stepped back and he let his hand fall before turning to look at his dad. Mr. Jones was watching them like a hawk, his eyes unreadable. For the first time she worried if he was disappointed in her too. Mr. Jones was the only father figure she’d had growing up. She only had vague memories of her own dad, who moved to Tennessee when she was six without a goodbye. When Devin’s father accepted her into his family fold she’d soaked up his love like a sponge. A rejection from him would hurt as much, if not more, than from Devin.
“Hi, Mr. Jones,” she said.
Roscoe Jones’ face split with a huge grin. “Don’t ‘Mr. Jones’ me. You’re just as bad as Devin when I come to his office.” He pulled Shayla into a warm welcoming hug. “It’s good to see you, Shayla. I’m glad you came home.”
Relief and happiness rushed through her as she stepped back and grinned at Roscoe. “It’s good to see you, too.”
He looked at Devin. “Isn’t it good to see her, Devin?”
Devin shook his head and smiled. “I’ve seen her already, Dad.”
Roscoe waved a hand. “It’s stil
l good to see her. What are you getting?”
Shayla held up the loaf of bread and lunch meat. “I plan to make a sandwich for dinner tonight. If I eat any more of my mom’s cooking I’ll gain ten pounds.”
Roscoe laughed. “Girl, you don’t have to worry about weight. You look as good as you did in high school.” He nudged Devin. “Doesn’t she, Devin?”
Devin cleared his throat. He quickly eyed her from head to toe. “Yes, Dad.”
Even though it was a brief inspection, her stomach still clenched.
Roscoe turned back to Shayla. “You can’t eat a sandwich for dinner.”
Shayla smiled. “It’s the easiest thing for me to do. I haven’t bought groceries. I thought picking this up would be a quick meal.” She turned as the woman in line before her rushed back with another half a dozen cans of the correct soup. “It’s taking much longer than I thought.”
Roscoe shook his head. “Nonsense. You are not eating a sandwich, and you don’t have to eat with your mom. Devin met me here to pick up a pack of chicken breasts to grill.” He leaned in and held a hand up to his mouth. “Devin’s got me on some low salt, low fat diet. Tastes horrible, but maybe he’ll let me put some real seasoning on it if you come to dinner.”
“I don’t care who comes to dinner, I’m seasoning the food.” Devin said.
Roscoe scoffed. “See what I mean, he’s trying to take everything away in my old age.”
Shayla smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I’d like to take your side in this, Roscoe, but I’ve got to go with the doctor. He told me about your blood pressure. You need to keep it under control.”
Roscoe frowned but his eyes twinkled with laughter. “Damn kids. Always ganging up on me.” He turned to Devin. “So you agree she should join us for dinner?”
Southern Love Page 55
