Easier Said Than Done (28 page)

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak; still not quite willing to let myself totally go.

“Kingston?”

“I'm here,” I said softly.

“Now your belly. I remember how sweet your belly was—sweet and ripe like a mango—how I loved kissing it, tracing the fine line of hair with my finger; it starts at your belly button, then leads me to paradise.” He inhaled. “Move your hand lower. Imagine my warm tongue licking you wherever your hand goes. Does that feel good? All I want to do is make you feel good.”

My hand hit the target and I groaned, moving my hand lower still. My knees clenched together, trembling, trying to stand strong in a battle that couldn't possibly be won.

“It's okay, Kingston,” Damon offered, sensing my hesitation. “I'm here with you and never plan on letting you go again. Now move your hand lower. That's a good girl. You're so hot and wet, so ready for me. It's only for me, right, Kingston? It's all mine, right? Let me hear you say it.”

“It's all yours, Damon,” I repeated, trying hard not to explode, although holding it inside was killing me.

When he asked, “Remember what it was like for me to be inside of you?” my resolve broke and I couldn't hold back any longer. The pressure was building faster than the speed of light; the ache between my legs so overwhelming that I had to let go. “Oh God, Damon,” I cried as the dam broke, turning my head into the pillow to suppress my sobs.

“Give yourself to me, Kingston, like you did in the hot tub.” This time it was Damon who groaned and I knew he was in the same predicament as me. “Oh, God!” he echoed with such animal ferocity that it triggered something more in me and I let go again—jumping on the roller coaster ride with him, diving over the edge, hand in hand. All of the pent up anger, frustration, sadness, and desire rolled themselves into a huge, red ball spinning wildly before it got so hot that it simply disintegrated. And I lay spent, still clutching the phone in my sweaty palm, inhaling my own musky odor and listening to Damon's heavy breathing.

Eventually, my breathing slowed and my body floated gently back to earth. I blocked the regrets that pushed at my brain and dried my face with the blanket. “Damon?”

“Yes, love?”

“No matter how much I try to stop wanting you, I only end up wanting you more,” I admitted, pushing damp hair from my face.

“What are you so scared of?” Damon's voice was quiet, reassuring, and I melted again. “

Being hurt like I was before.”

“It won't happen again, Kingston. It's different now.”

“Yes. It is different now. So different you wouldn't even believe.” I closed my eyes, steeled myself, then placed the phone back in its cradle and curled into a ball, pulling the covers over my head. Thoughts still raced through my mind, but my body was drained; and as proven
just minutes earlier, the body sometimes wins the battle over the mind. And soon, blackness edged out the light.

* * *

The nutty aroma of fresh coffee brewing woke me long before I was ready. The sweet, buttery smell of waffles mingled with the smokehouse scent of frying bacon had me reaching for my robe. I grimaced as my bare feet hit the cold, hardwood floor. I trudged into the bathroom to splash some water on my face, then brushed my teeth while thoughts of what had occurred in the past forty-eight hours slowly came back to me.

The weight and pressure that had been heaped on my shoulders from all directions settled firmly back on like a familiar coat. Damn, I should have stayed in bed.

Keela smiled as I walked into the kitchen, her expanding waistline was cinched by an apron. Her enthusiastic, “morning,” was even brighter.

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, reaching for the coffeepot. The fresh brew was still perking, but I pulled it from the warmer anyway and poured a steaming cup as drips of coffee hit the hot burner with a satisfying sizzle. I doctored it up and after a passionate slurp, I was fit for company. “ Good Morning.”

“That's more like it.” Keela grabbed a plate and started piling on scrambled eggs, waffles, and strips of bacon. “Hungry?” she asked after the fact, setting the full plate on the high round
glass table occupying one corner of the kitchen. Silverware wrapped in a paper napkin and a small glass of fresh orange juice soon joined it. This was better than service in a restaurant.

“Aren't you eating?” Spearing a nice chunk of the fluffy egg mixture, I jammed it in my mouth, followed quickly by a piece of bacon. “Hmmmmm, just the way I like them.” I doused the waffles with syrup and was halfway through them before Keela sat down with her own plate. “I didn't realize how hungry I was,” I mumbled around another mouthful of bacon. I broke off a burnt end and dropped it into Cocoa's open mouth.

“I figured that. You haven't had much time to eat or do anything else.”

“True.” I smeared the last piece of waffle across the plate and soaked up the remaining syrup. “It's been hectic for both of us.” I paused, looking at the icicles hanging from the outside balcony, melting under the persistence of the mid-morning sun. “You hangin' in there?”

She pursed her lips before taking a sip of orange juice. “A good night's sleep and a hot breakfast can make the worst situation seem a whole lot better. My dad used to say that all the time. I lost the father of my baby and my best friend at the same time. I think that qualifies as the worst situation.”

“It's not like they died,” I pointed out.

“No, it's worse, ‘cause I can't bury their asses without going to jail!” She giggled before rising and clearing the table.

“No, let me,” I said, finishing off the last of my coffee. “You cooked so I'll clean up.” I loaded the dishwasher and powered it up. Leaning one hip against the countertop, I contemplated another cup of coffee.

“What are you going to do today?” Keela asked.

“Go back to bed, get another couple of hours. Then I need to go to the grocery store.”

“Me too. I'm having cravings for foods that I've never even eaten before. How do you explain that? I actually was dipping my pepperoni pizza in maple syrup the other day. Some of my cousins down south used to do it when we were little.” Keela laughed at the grimace on my face. “Don't sleep on the pizza and syrup combo, it was pretty good. I'll spare you the rest of my cravings. I'm going to take a quick a shower, then I'll be out of your hair.”

“You're welcome to stay as long as you want.”

“No offense, but the bed in your guest room is not all that comfortable. I want to curl up in my own bed. Plus, I have to prepare lesson plans and all that good stuff. Did you decide if you're gonna go into work tomorrow?”

I sighed and wiped off the table. “I'll be bored if I stay at home all day. I have a huge opportunity with Scooby, and I'm not going to blow it.”

We headed up the stairs together; and as I lay in bed, I heard Keela taking a shower and tidying up the room. When I woke up, she was gone.

* * *

Three hours later, my cart was already half full when I rounded the corner and headed toward the fresh produce aisle. The Co-op was busy for a Sunday afternoon; I suspected people were getting ready for Christmas dinner. Shelves were being stocked, then restocked. Sales papers littered the floor and over-sized signs trimmed with cheap garland advertising the store's famous “ten for ten” sale hung in every aisle.

Juan, the twenty-something Hispanic produce manager, arranged first the watermelons, then the cantaloupes before looking up, smiling when he spotted me. His dark hair was moussed off his face and his goatee needed a trim.

“Ready for the holidays?” he asked when I got closer, wiping his hands on his dirt streaked khakis.

“Nope,” I said. “They always seem to sneak up on me. You?”

“Same.” He worked at scraping some of the dirt from under his fingernails, then pointed at the oranges. “We got in a shipment of Valencia oranges—sweet for this time of year. And we got those bags of ready-made salad on sale. Buy one, get one free.”

I smiled, tossing a few oranges in a plastic bag. When he smiled back, it was a different kind of smile, his eyes warmed with interest.

“Are you trying to tell me I need to be on a diet, Juan?” I teased, laughing when a deep blush stained Juan's neck and cheeks.

“Oh no, I didn't mean to imply that at all. You know you're a beautiful woman.” He nodded with appreciation. “Everything's right where it's supposed to be.” At my raised eyebrows, he began sputtering, “Well-well-well,” then waved his hand. “You know what I mean.”

“I know, Juan, I was just teasing you. Thanks for your help.” He waved again, turning his attention back to the melons.

I wheeled my cart past the meat department, picking up two packs of frozen chicken breasts when I spotted an acquaintance with her two children in tow. All three were going in different directions, a mess of arms and legs. I ducked in the cereal aisle so she wouldn't stop me for conversation.

Apple Jacks
or
Frosted Flakes
? It had become quite the deliberation when a hand settled on my shoulder and squeezed gently. I turned and found my self face-to-face with Randy. I couldn't catch a break.

He grinned, looking like two shots of tequila poured into a faded pair of Levis—all warm and golden brown—begging you to take a sip, but coming back to haunt you if you drank too much. Right now, I felt as though I had swallowed the whole bottle.

“Randy,” I said, exasperation sharpening my tone as he placed a cool kiss on my cheek.

He said, “I didn't know you were back in town.” His gaze traveled up and down my frame —inhaling the fitted baby-girl shirt and hip-hugging sweats beneath my leather bomber—before looking me square in the eye and whistling softly. “I'd almost forgotten how fine you are.”

“Give me a break, Randy, I've been gone less than a week. Your memory is not that bad.”I stepped to the side of the aisle, scooting my cart over to allow an old lady enough room to get her cart and cane around me.

She smiled. “Thanks, baby,” she said, whistling slightly through the toothless gap in the front of her mouth. She reached for a box of
Grape-Nuts
cereal, the stretch causing her skirt to rise above her rolled-down knee-highs. I crossed to the other side and pulled the box down for her. It was more than my being helpful, I was trying to put some space between Randy and me. She mumbled her thanks again, and continued pushing her cart up the aisle. A heartbeat passed before he grabbed my hand and pulled me so I was standing next to him.

Not wanting to make a scene, I discreetly yanked my hand away. But that didn't stop me from being rude. “What?” When he didn't answer fast enough—just leaned against his cart, head cocked sideways, grinning—I continued, “Look, I don't have time for this, Randy. I've got things to do and as I've heard, you've been quite busy yourself, so let's not continue to waste each other's time.”

I left Randy standing there with his mouth hanging open. Moving through the self-checkout lane at the speed of light, my hands trembled with rage. I fumed as I stuffed my groceries in the bags. I fumed as I shoved my cart out to my car, and I fumed some more when I spied Randy leaning against it, his arms casually crossed in front of him.

“Damn, Randy, what do you want?” I snapped through clenched teeth, my face creased in a frown as I unlocked my trunk and started tossing the bags every which way.

“It seems like you're really not all that happy to see me. What's up with that?”

“Nothing's up. You spoke. I spoke. What else is there to do?”

“There's tension. I don't want it to be like this every time we see each other. I'm sorry things didn't work out, but can't we move on and be friends?”

“Why would I want to maintain contact with you—friends or whatever?”

“Why wouldn't you?” he countered.

I slammed the trunk shut and pushed the cart into the holding area. “Because you're a jerk,” I said matter-of-factly. He blinked in surprise and his mouth snapped shut. “Look, Randy, let's just cut to the chase. It's bad enough that you were messing around with your ex-girlfriend; but no, you had to go and sleep with my best friend, too.” This time he couldn't keep his mouth from falling open. “Yeah, I found out about that. Did you really think you and Essence could keep this little secret tucked between you forever?”

Randy followed me to the door. “Essence told you?”

“I wouldn't say she told me—more like she was forced to admit it. I may never have found out if some other events hadn't come to light. Besides, you're not the only boyfriend that Essence has helped herself to. But it's all good. Our relationship was over before I found out this little tidbit, so I'm not trippin'. I just don't want you to be under any misconceptions that we're going to end up all buddy-buddy.”

Randy shrugged. “I was just doing what comes naturally to a man. You can't expect me to pass up on something that was practically thrown at me.”

“Actually, call me crazy, but as my boyfriend—I did expect you to pass up on it. But I guess we have different ideas of what a relationship should be. The fact that you think a man is
just following his natural urges when he cheats is plain crazy. Ludicrous. Pathetic. Insane.” I rolled my hand as if I could continue forever.

“I get your point,” Randy inserted. “But I don't think you get mine.”

“I don't want to get your point. What's done, is done. I've learned my lesson. I'm just glad you didn't waste too much of my time.” I slid into the front seat of my car and backed up, praying that I'd snare Randy with my left bumper, but he was already heading to his car—and already waving at some other woman. I took a deep breath and exhaled the negative emotions, released them into the atmosphere.

Randy was not worth the stress