Comfort of a Man (Arabesque)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  “Oh, you should see the one I have on tonight.” She winked.

  Isaiah grabbed his glass of water. “You have one on now?”

  She nodded. “Red. Your favorite color.”

  Their waitress appeared and took their drink orders. When they were alone again, Isaiah flashed her a smile.

  “You don’t play fair.”

  “Someone told me that all was fair in love and war.”

  “Are we in love?”

  Her smugness evaporated and she was suddenly trapped by her own words. While his eyes leveled with hers, she knew he deserved an honest answer. “I’m not sure.”

  His hand covered hers and he gave it an affectionate squeeze.

  The confession was a strange sort of relief, but at the same time, she was petrified. Despite her protests and denials, something was happening to her—to them—and she was ill-equipped to handle it.

  The waitress returned with their wine and scurried off to place their dinner orders.

  “Tell me more about your job,” she said, desperate to change the subject.

  “Okay. What would you like to know?”

  “Once upon a time you told me that you were married to it. Is that still true?”

  “Not in the past few months.”

  “And when you leave here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged at his flicker of confusion. “One of the excuses you gave for not being able to commit to your old girlfriend was because you devoted so much time to your career.” She held his gaze. “What makes you so sure that it wouldn’t happen again?”

  “I never felt the desire to give up one thing for another.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I am.”

  Her skepticism morphed into shock. “You would give up your career for me?”

  “Yes.”

  His answer filled Brooklyn with a new wave of anxiety. Of course, she’d never dream of asking him to do such a thing, but for a moment, she grew heady with the power she held over him.

  He gave another squeeze to her hand. “Don’t be afraid to love me.”

  Her eyes moistened. “I can’t help it.”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Then I’m going to do all I can to help you.”

  During the course of their dinner, the conversation drifted to lighter subjects and Isaiah delighted himself in listening to her laughter. However, the tension returned after he drove her home and walked her to her door.

  Brooklyn retrieved her keys from her purse and looked up as she smiled. “I guess this is good night.”

  His brows rose in surprise. “You’re not going to invite me in?”

  “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “I can handle it if you can.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  He simply smiled and shrugged.

  “Okay, Mr. Confident. Why don’t you come in for a nightcap?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  She opened the door and he followed her inside.

  “I’ll get us some wine,” she said, and headed to the kitchen.

  Isaiah watched the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away. “One week to go,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I must be crazy.” He turned and entered the living room.

  A few minutes later, she joined him. “Here we are.” She extended a wineglass and sat next to him on the sofa.

  “Let’s make a toast,” he said.

  “What should we toast to?”

  He held his glass to her. “To us.”

  Her beautiful eyes met his serious gaze while a ghost of a smile danced across her lips. “To us.”

  They clinked their glasses, and then sipped their wine.

  Brooklyn settled against Isaiah and he casually draped his arm around her shoulder. No words were needed, as both were content with their intimate pose.

  She could easily get used to this small world they’d created. Who wouldn’t want a man who doted on her every word or wish? What would it truly be like to be Mrs. Isaiah Washington?

  He kissed the top of her head. “What are you thinking about?”

  “You,” she whispered as a warm glow radiated from within.

  “Anything good?”

  “Always. What were you thinking about?”

  “The red teddy you have on.”

  She laughed and tilted her chin so she could look at him. “Ah, ah, ah. Seven more days, lover boy.”

  He leaned down and kissed her. “Don’t remind me.” He kissed her again; his tongue gently delved into her warm mouth.

  She moaned softly, her kiss as hungry as his own.

  He turned away and a surge of disappointment nearly paralyzed him.

  Brooklyn kissed his cheek and silently took their wineglasses and set them on the coffee table. When she curled against him again, her voice held a note of amusement. “Doesn’t this remind you of being teenagers and necking on your parents’ couch?”

  He laughed softly. “My mother would have killed me.”

  She kissed his chin. “Mine, too, but the possibility of getting caught is part of the thrill.” Belatedly, she thought of Jaleel and Theresa and shook her head. “Of course nowadays, teenagers seem to do a little more than just necking.”

  “Jaleel?”

  She nodded. “Trust me. You don’t want to hear about it.” She dotted kisses along his jaw, and then settled on a sensitive spot just below his earlobe.

  Isaiah sucked in his breath and couldn’t believe his toes actually curled. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?” she whispered.

  He quivered from her warm breath against his neck and at the feel of her hand as it slid beneath his shirt. He cursed at their agreement and raked his fingers through her hair. Tugging her head back, he devoured her mouth like a starved man.

  His need for her overwhelmed him and he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten her dress off. All he knew now was how incredibly sexy she looked in that damn teddy. He slid the thin straps from her shoulders; his mouth watered at the sight of her full breasts.

  He wanted them—wanted her, but he couldn’t move.

  “What is it?” She looked up at him with passion-filled eyes.

  He rolled to her side and monopolized the remaining space on the sofa as he sighed. “We have to stop.”

  “Why?” Annoyance filled her voice. “I want you and you want me. Why do we have to stop?”

  “Because of our agreement.”

  His answer infuriated her as she pushed herself up and off the sofa. “Fine. I think it’s time for you to go.” She snatched her dress off the floor and with tremulous hands she jerked the material back on.

  “Don’t be angry.” He sat up and reached for her.

  She sidestepped his touch. “Who said I was angry?”

  He stood. “It’s obvious.”

  “And it’s obvious to me that you’re playing games,” she snapped back.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he thundered.

  “I’m not a toy. You can’t just get me all worked up and then shut down.”

  Isaiah’s stare turned incredulous. “I didn’t mean…we agreed—”

  “Spare me the speech about us developing a relationship,” she said, refusing to let go of her anger and humiliation. “I never said I wanted a relationship out of this. In fact, I made that clear in New York.”

  “So what we had this summer meant nothing to you?” He snatched his shirt that had somehow been flung onto the coffee table.

  “Of course it did. It meant sex—great sex if you want to stoke your ego.”

  “Now, who’s treating whom like a toy?” he asked in a flat tone while he struggled to hide his bruised pride. He turned with a desperate need to get away before their words became ugly.

  Brooklyn’s hands dropped to her sides as she watched him storm away. She wouldn’t and couldn’t say the apology perched on the tip of her tongue. She also refused to follow him
to the door. Yet she jumped at the force of which he slammed it.

  At that same instant, her heart leaped into her throat and her vision blurred. She allowed one sniffle and then wiped her eyes clear with the backs of her hands. “I will not cry over another man,” she declared adamantly and lifted her chin with a false bravado.

  She retrieved the wineglasses and turned out the lights in the living room and then the kitchen. By the time she’d locked up the house and slid into bed, her tears had returned and she was miserable.

  “Damn him,” Brooklyn moaned into her pillow. Her ache for him wasn’t merely physical, but it was mental and spiritual as well. She closed her eyes as tears slid from their corners.

  “I don’t love him, I don’t love him,” she chanted in desperation, but her words lacked conviction. This revelation caused her tears to quicken and her sobs to fill her bedroom.

  She cried until there were no more tears and she was left to stare at a sliver of moonlight that filtered through her window. Soon, her heartbeat slowed and her jumbled thoughts became easier to comprehend.

  When had it happened? How did she get blind-sided?

  Brooklyn sat up in bed and hugged the pillow. “I’m such a fool,” she whispered. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love.”

  Isaiah had ignored her protests and with small gestures destroyed the well-constructed wall she’d built around her heart.

  Whenever he spent the night, she’d awaken to breakfast in bed. Notes of endearments were taped in odd places throughout the house. Twice, he’d showed up at her office and treated her to a picnic lunch in the park. She also loved the time she’d come home to discover a blanket of rose petals that led from the front door to her bedroom where a naked Isaiah lay sprawled across the bed.

  Despite her solemn mood, a smile curved her lips. She even loved the time shared during pillow talks. In their short time together, she’d told him everything about her marriage, her friends, life before Evan, and even her childhood fantasies.

  Brooklyn laughed as she remembered the tiara he’d purchased and the night he’d dubbed her Princess Brooklyn. Again, what was there not to love?

  Isaiah sat in his mother’s living room cloaked in darkness and replayed the night’s events in his head. His anger had long left him and he was thinking of ways to salvage what had happened. He still wanted Brooklyn and he was convinced now more than ever that she wanted him, too.

  Tonight, she’d tried to push him away—maybe because he’d gotten too close. He smiled at the thought. While she was so busy declaring what she didn’t want, he was busy proving her wrong. The bottom line was loving Brooklyn came easy to him.

  “What are you doing sitting alone in the dark?” Georgia asked, clicking the light on from behind him.

  “I was just thinking.” Isaiah glanced over his shoulder and watched as she entered the room. “Is there something I can get for you?”

  She waved off his question and settled in the armchair across from him. “I’m fine. I want to hear what’s got you thinking so hard.”

  “Brooklyn.” He shrugged as if the answer should have been obvious. “We sort of had a little fight this evening.”

  “Sort of? Little fight?” She laughed. “Honey, either you did or didn’t. Which is it?”

  As usual, his mother’s directness unarmed him. “Okay. We had a fight.”

  “Serious?”

  “Nah. I don’t think so. In fact, I’m thinking about driving back over there.”

  His mother nodded. “A couple should never go to bed angry. That was something your father and I strongly believed in.” She folded her arms and studied him. “You love her, don’t you?”

  His smile turned sly. “More than anything.”

  “It does my heart good to hear you say that,” she said, and nodded toward the door. “Go talk to her.”

  Isaiah stood, walked over to his mother, and then kissed her gently on her forehead. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Brooklyn picked up the phone to call Isaiah when the doorbell rang.

  “He’s back,” she gushed as she threw back the covers, grabbed her robe, and rushed down the stairs. The grandfather clock chimed 1:00 a.m. as she fumbled with the locks and threw back the door, ready to apologize.

  However, the stoic face that greeted her was the last person she’d expected to see.

  “Evan, what are you doing here?”

  Chapter 24

  Evan shoved his hands into his pants pockets and flashed her an uneven smile. “Hello, Brooke.”

  A warm breeze ruffled the hem of her robe. She remembered what little she had on and tightened her belt. “Is something wrong? Where is Jaleel?”

  “Oh, he’s fine. Probably sleeping like a baby back at the house.”

  Brooklyn remained confused and cautious at his strange behavior. “Then what—”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Something must be wrong, she reasoned before allowing him to enter. “Come in.”

  Evan crossed the threshold and she closed the door behind him. Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for an explanation. She took in his disheveled appearance and absently wondered when he’d last had a full night’s sleep.

  Evan’s gaze dragged slowly over her appearance and finally he smiled as though she’d passed his inspection. “You look great.”

  Her gaze narrowed while her irritation stiffened her back. “Surely, you didn’t drive across town to tell me that.”

  His smile turned sheepish as he shook his head. “No, I guess I didn’t,” he admitted, but he still hesitated in giving an explanation. “Can we go in and sit down?”

  Her impatience snapped. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged, but his cheesy smile thinned. “I want…need to talk with you.”

  She weighed giving him a few minutes of her time versus kicking his sorry butt out. In fact, the scales had tilted toward the latter when he broke into her thoughts.

  “That’s if you’re not busy.” He glanced toward the stairs and back at her.

  Her hands fell to her hips. “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not. What difference does it make?” She pivoted toward the door, her tolerance for games maxed out. “Go home.”

  He rushed forward and placed his hand against the door to prevent her from opening it. “Brooke, I’m sorry. I had no right to ask.”

  She glanced up at him and was shocked by his look and sound of desperation.

  Evan drew in a breath as his shoulders slumped. “Can we please sit and talk for a little while?”

  It had been a long time since she’d seen this side of her ex-husband. So long, in fact, that she was taken completely off guard and was unsure of what to say. She stepped away from the door and once again folded her arms.

  “Please?”

  Her gaze met his and lingered for a long moment before she finally nodded. “Thanks.”

  Brooklyn set aside her anger, pain, and distrust. “I guess we can talk in the living room.” She turned and led the way. As she came around the sofa, she clicked on the lamps on the end tables.

  Evan waited until she sat down before he took the space next to her and flashed her another sheepish smile.

  “All right.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m listening.”

  He nodded and seemed to struggle with where to begin.

  “Evan, you’re scaring me. If something is wrong, just spit it out. I can handle it.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Brooke. I mean, something is wrong, but it’s not what you think. Actually, I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

  “You’re rambling.”

  He stopped and closed his eyes as he drew in another breath. “Sorry.”

  She flashed him a genuine smile. “It’s okay.”

  Another deep breath and he tried again. “I owe you the biggest apology.”

  He captured her full attention and she settled back against the sofa and waited.

  “I know I’m to blame for the failure of ou
r marriage. I realize now that I was wrong for a lot of things.”

  Brooklyn rolled her eyes, convinced that the two sentences were about all she could stomach. “Please tell me you didn’t come over here to tell me this.”

  When he couldn’t meet her stare, she laughed with disbelief. “Okay, fine. It was your fault. Thanks for the confirmation.” She went to get up.

  Evan placed a hand on her arm. “Hear me out.”

  She stayed put against her better judgment.

  “Macy and I were a mistake,” he said, finally meeting her gaze. “I know that now.”

  Had she heard him right?

  “Brooke.” He took hold of her hand. “I know what I’m about to ask you might come as a surprise, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t given me an answer tonight. I want you to really think it over.” He brought her hand up and placed it against his heart. “Think about our twenty-year history and give me an honest answer.”

  “She left you, didn’t she?” She snatched her hand away. It was the only thing she could come up with. His hesitation was her answer. She laughed and shook her head. “This is so pathetic.”

  “Brooke—”

  She held up a hand to shut him up. “So what’s this really about? You’re afraid of being alone?”

  “No,” he insisted in a firm voice. “She didn’t leave me…exactly.”

  “Well, you exactly left me or am I supposed to forget that?”

  “Of course not,” he said, managing to look contrite and amazingly close to tears. “I made a mistake.”

  “You’re damn right you did,” she snapped.

  “Brooke, can we please set aside the anger?” He met and held her sharp gaze. “I don’t know what got into me or what I thought I was searching for. And tonight I realized I had what I wanted all along with you…and our son.”

  “Evan—”

  He took her hand again. “I want to come back. I want to give our marriage another try.” He inched closer, squeezing her hand. “Will you give me another chance?”

  “I hope I didn’t catch you two at a bad time.”

  Brooklyn and Evan jumped up, startled by the intrusion of another voice.