Comfort of a Man (Arabesque)
Page 20
After locating his luggage in baggage claim, Isaiah climbed into the first available taxi and took a nap during the drive to his house.
Once home, it took his remaining strength to carry his bags up the arching staircase to his bedroom. If he could just catch a few hours of sleep, he’d be okay, he told himself. However, reason said he needed a minimum of ten hours.
He stripped out of his clothes and seconds later stood beneath a pounding stream of hot water. He had to stop punishing himself with this crazy work schedule, but not until he could forget about Brooklyn.
Stepping out of the shower, Isaiah dried off and slid into his favorite robe. The phone rang, but he paid it no attention. Whoever it was could leave a message.
“Now, sleep,” he said as he clicked off the bathroom light and re-entered his bedroom, but the sound of Brooklyn’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“I guess you’re still avoiding me.” Her voice held a dreary sigh. “Look, I hope you come or, who knows, maybe you’re on your way up here.” She paused, and then added wearily, “If you don’t show up tonight, I’ll know it’s over.” Another pause. “I love you, Isaiah. Please come.” The call disconnected.
Isaiah remained rooted in place. She loves me? Surely, he hadn’t heard her right. Slowly her message seeped into his brain and he became more confused. “Show up where?” he muttered and he walked over to the answering machine and pushed the play button.
The robotic voice reported: “You have sixty-two messages.”
Walking through the doors of the Atrium, Brooklyn experienced a jolt of déjà vu. This time, she didn’t feel out of place. She felt more like a woman on a mission, and she experienced a pleasant surprise when she recognized the smiling bartender.
He inclined his head, but recognition eluded his eyes.
She strolled up to the bar, needing very much to have a drink.
“Good evening, miss. What can I get you?”
“An apple margarita.”
“Excellent choice.”
“I know. You make a mean one.”
A light flickered in his eyes. “Have you been here before?”
Suddenly she was embarrassed at just how much the man could or would remember. “It’s been a while.”
He nodded. “One apple margarita coming up.”
She sighed in relief and nervously glanced around the dark and crowded lounge. Her heart accelerated whenever her eyes skimmed over a similar physique and then plummeted when it turned out not to be Isaiah.
“He’s not coming,” the devil on her shoulder whispered. And why should he? Hadn’t she done everything she could to keep him at arm’s length?
The bartender returned with a wide smile. “So. Why the long face?” He set her drink down.
She shrugged. “I’m sort of waiting for someone.”
He nodded with a look of instant understanding. “And you’re worried whether he’ll show up?”
Brooklyn managed a crooked smile. “Boy, I bet you’ve seen and heard it all working here.”
“Pretty much. I know enough to know a man would have to be crazy to stand up a beautiful woman like you.”
She blushed. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“All love stories are.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Just to an experienced eye.” He winked.
Her smile warmed, but she said nothing as her mood continued to free-fall.
He fixed two gin and tonics, and a looming cocktail waitress quickly snatched them up. “Want to talk about it?” he asked Brooklyn.
“So you’re a bartender-slash-therapist?”
“Most of us are.”
“Then I guess you qualify.” A sad laugh escaped her as she lowered her gaze and reached for her glass. “Problem is I don’t know where to begin.”
“The beginning—there is always a beginning.”
So, that was what she did; and once she started, she couldn’t stop.
And like any good therapist, Sam the bartender listened while simultaneously mixing drinks.
At the end, he stopped and placed his hands flat on the bar’s counter. “Then tonight is your moment of truth.”
She glanced at her watch only to be devastated by the time. “It was.” Her sigh accompanied a fresh surge of tears. “I should have known better.” She stood from her chair; ready to call it a night. “I said from the beginning that the whole thing was impossible.”
She turned for a final glance around the lounge and drew in a sharp gasp at Isaiah’s sudden appearance at her side.
“Haven’t you learned by now that nothing is impossible?”
Brooklyn’s breath thinned as her hand settled across her heart. “You came.”
His lips curved and flashed her a beautiful smile. “Of course.”
She couldn’t stop staring, too afraid to blink, breathe, or think. “I love you,” she blurted out.
He stepped forward with a slow nod and smile. “Yeah. I got your messages.” He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly over hers. “I love you, too.”
The bartender snickered. “I just love happy endings.”
Isaiah and Brooklyn laughed.
“So is this when I offer to buy the lady a drink?” he asked, amusement conquering his features.
Brooklyn shrugged and eased closer. “Yes, or we could just skip the small talk and continue this happy reunion up in your suite,” she suggested boldly.
Isaiah blinked away his surprise. “My suite?” Suspicion narrowed his gaze as disappointment webbed his heart.
Brooklyn rolled her eyes heavenward while her posture deflated. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
He nodded as he took her hand. “We need to talk.”
“I know.” A weak smile fluttered at the corners of her lips before she returned to her stool.
Isaiah eased onto the seat next to her. For a few seconds, he just stared at her delicate features and feared her response to what he had to say.
Brooklyn slyly broke eye contact. “I think I should go first.”
Isaiah pretended he didn’t feel the squeeze to his heart. “All right.”
She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I didn’t invite you here for a repeat performance.” She found his gaze again, but words stalled in her throat as she collected herself to continue. “I wanted you to come, because for the past few months I’ve been forced to realize just how much you truly mean to me. And the truth is, you’re my world. I want you to be a part of my life.”
Relief poured into Isaiah’s body. Her declaration caused his heart to take flight. “It seems like I’ve waited forever to hear you say that.” His laugh cracked with emotion.
Her gaze softened. “I’m relieved to finally get the chance to tell you in person. Of course, I think I’ve developed a close and personal relationship with your answering machine.”
“Sounds like I should be jealous.”
“Don’t be. I’m just glad your mother talked some sense into me.”
Surprise colored Isaiah’s features. “My mother?”
“Yeah.” Her smile widened. “She’s a very wise woman.”
“Let me guess. The pride speech?”
“You’ve heard it?”
“Heard it. It’s one of my favorites.”
As their laughter faded, Brooklyn squeezed his hand affectionately. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I’ve missed you.” His hand lifted to caress the curve of her cheek.
She kissed his hand. “I’ve been so miserable without you that even my son has granted us his blessing. In fact, he can’t wait to meet you.”
“I can’t wait to meet him, too.” He lifted her hand, kissed it, and then took a deep breath. “With that said, there’s something I want to ask you.”
The seriousness in his voice matched the intensity of his gaze, and Brooklyn’s heart pounded in double time.
He slid his hand into his pocket and withdrew a burgundy box. “I meant
to ask you this a few months ago.”
Brooklyn’s eyes widened at the sight of what could only be a ring box and once again felt her eyes sting with tears. “Oh, my God.”
He leaned in for another kiss, and then opened the box.
She gasped at the sparkling diamond ring.
“The night of Jaleel’s accident, I was trying my damnedest to propose and could never get the words out. So tonight, before we go any further, I have to ask: will you marry me?”
Words deserted Brooklyn.
“I want to be clear about this,” Isaiah continued. “I don’t want just your body. I want you. Forever.”
“But we live in different states,” she finally protested weakly.
“I’ll move.”
“What about your job?”
“I can transfer or look for a new one.” He smiled when she ran out of questions and tears trickled down her face. He wiped them away with his thumbs. “I will do whatever it takes to be with you.”
Brooklyn drew in a deep breath and met his twinkling gray eyes. “So will I.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely.”
Isaiah shouted with joy as he swept her off the stool and into his arms. He’d done it. He had finally won Brooklyn Douglas’s heart.
“Let’s get out of here and celebrate.” Giddy, Brooklyn turned to take care of her tab.
The bartender held up his hand and winked. “It’s on the house. Enjoy your evening.”
Brooklyn had every intention of doing just that.
The newly engaged couple walked out of the Atrium with their arms nestled around each other. There were no words needed for their destination.
Everything about Isaiah was just as Brooklyn remembered: the build, the smell, and the feel of him.
Stepping into the elevator, she slinked into a corner of the glass compartment and motioned for him to follow with a sexy come-hither look. Isaiah obeyed, fully aware that they could be seen in the glass compartment.
“Wait. Hold the elevator,” a woman’s voice boomed toward them.
With lightning speed, Isaiah jabbed the close-door button.
Brooklyn burst out laughing as the door closed in front of a stunned woman. “Ooh, you’re soo bad.”
He pressed for the twenty-third floor and returned to cuddle in their corner. “I’m just determined for nothing to ruin our night.”
“Nothing could ruin this night.”
In practice for their honeymoon, Isaiah carried Brooklyn across the threshold of his suite. And this time he took his time undressing her.
Brooklyn’s body was on fire, consumed by passion and love. And it felt wonderful—it felt right.
Minutes passed before she noticed the red and white rose petals across the floor. Soft music played from the radio on the nightstand alongside a bottle of champagne that chilled in a silver bucket of ice.
“You came prepared.”
“I did what I could on such short notice.”
She frowned. “Short notice?”
“I’ve been away on business for the past three weeks.
I got your messages today.”
“Ah, that explains a lot.” She kissed him.
He nuzzled her neck, finding that old switch that melted her insides and branded her.
Together they fell back onto the bed, and Isaiah easily claimed the top position.
At the feel of his hardened desire pressed against her inner thigh, she reined in her raging emotions to ask the all-important question. “You do have a condom, right?”
Isaiah slumped against her as he lowered his head.
Brooklyn slapped a hand across her face as laughter burst from her lungs.
Slowly a mischievous smile dominated Isaiah’s features as he reached across the bed and opened the nightstand drawer to reveal that it was crammed tight with boxes of condoms.
“I think we have just enough,” he said.
Brooklyn’s laughter deepened as she slid her arms around his neck. “Yeah. Just enough.”
Epilogue
Six months later
Rotech’s Golden Circle Award ceremony was being held in the lavish Embassy Suites in Austin, Texas. The guests were beautiful, distinguished, and successful. Many complimented and enjoyed the royal treatment Rotech provided while they congratulated and hobnobbed with the new man of the year, Yasmine Hewitt.
Isaiah and Brooklyn Washington approached their glowing friend with outstretched arms.
“I can’t believe this night,” Yasmine gushed as she stepped back. “I don’t see why you used to hate it so much.”
Isaiah shrugged. “Hey, if you like it, I love it.” He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You deserve this, Yas.”
“Damn right, I do.” She laughed.
Randall dipped into the group and gave Yasmine a hug as well. “I guess this means I have a shot next year.”
“I don’t know. Now that I’ve had a taste of stardom, I don’t know if I want to give it up.”
“Congratulations.” Brooklyn leaned in and kissed Yasmine’s cheek. “I’m so happy for you.”
Yasmine jiggled her brows at Isaiah. “You better watch this one. I might steal her away from you.”
They laughed just as a feminine voice floated from behind them.
“I heard that.”
The small group turned and spotted Yasmine’s off-again, on-again girlfriend, Mary.
“I was just teasing,” Yasmine apologized.
Mary joined the group and received her fair share of hugs before pulling back to assess Brooklyn. “There is something different about you.”
Brooklyn tried to fight back the telling smile from dominating her face.
“What?” Yasmine’s gaze swung between Isaiah and Brooklyn. “Something is up. Spill it.”
Isaiah draped an arm around Brooklyn’s shoulders. “Well, we didn’t want to take anything away from your night.”
“But?” Yasmine’s eyes sparkled as though she already suspected the news.
“We’re pregnant,” Isaiah and Brooklyn announced, and in the next second were crushed in their friends’ exuberant hugs. A minute later, Cadence and Uncle Mike joined them and gave their well-wishes.
Later that night, Brooklyn lay awake in Isaiah’s arms and watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest. She reveled in the peace he helped create in her life.
Despite being a part of a unit, Isaiah allowed her to maintain her independence as a career woman. She had opened her own realty office back in the spring and had no doubts that she would continue even after delivering her next bundle of joy.
She stood from the bed and moved over to the window. The streets weren’t as busy as Times Square or Peachtree Street, but there was something to be said for the city’s serenity. She no longer minded the sun coming up because she now enjoyed every aspect of her life.
She couldn’t believe that, while Jaleel was preparing to go to college, she was getting ready for a new baby at forty. But regardless, she was happy.
The sound of footsteps approaching from behind didn’t startle her, neither did the pair of arms enfolding her, but the gentle kiss against her neck won a sly smile.
“What are you thinking about?” Isaiah asked, nuzzling her neck again.
She leaned back to press against his hard, naked body. “How can a girl think with you doing that?”
“Doing what?” He rained a trail of kisses along her shoulder.
She turned toward him and slid her arms around his neck. “You’ve made me so happy.”
“The pleasure is mine every minute of the day.”
Brooklyn leaned up on her toes and slowly kissed the lids of his eyes, the tip of his nose, and then finally extracted a long mind-shattering kiss. “Are you up for another round?”
“Do you even have to ask?” He laughed, swooped her up in his arms, and carried her back to bed.
COMFORT OF A MAN
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8172-1
First published by
BET Publications, LLC in 2003
Copyright © 2011 by Adrianne Byrd
All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact Kimani Press, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Toronto, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
® and TM are trademarks. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and/or other countries.
www.kimanipress.com