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Authors: LaConnie Taylor-Jones

IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN (19 page)

BOOK: IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN
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Ray blew out a hard breath. This was going to be a very long day.

~ ~ ~

A week later, Ray paced the length of the main salon at Olivia.  He’d prepared a scrumptious meal of roasted tenderloin with homemade sausage and marinated cabbage for Ida Mae, Big Eddie, Nicki, Dorothy, and Jewel as a token of his appreciation for all the support they’d given him while he’d gone through chemo. It seemed as though they’d all waited hours for Laney to finishing changing into the new outfit she’d purchased for the occasion.  At the rate they were going, he hoped they ate dinner before midnight.

Big Eddie chuckled and settled back in his seat with one leg crossed over the other. “Son, sit down. No need of wearing a hole in the carpet. All that movin’ back and forth ain’t gonna make her move no faster.”

“That little bitty tack head—” Ray broke off, glancing at his watch—“Red is the
slowest
woman I’ve met in my life.”

Ida Mae chuckled. “Ya can’t blame her for that now. She got it honest. Her mama was the same way.”

Ray sucked his teeth and glanced at his watch again. Why did it take so long for women to get ready? He’d showered, shaved, and dressed in a little under thirty minutes. He stood, walked to the bottom of the staircase and cupped both hands to his face. “Red!”

“Yes, darling?”

“You almost ready, baby?”

“Almost,” Laney answered back.

Ray headed back to the living room and sat with an arm braced along the back of the sofa.

“Raphael,” Jewel whispered. “You do know that Laney’s birthday is next week, right?”

With a wide grin, Ray nodded. “Next Friday.”

Big Eddie shifted the toothpick in his mouth from the right side to the left. “Yep. She’ll be thirty-three.”

Ray spoke above a whisper to everyone. “I found the perfect present for Red.”

Dorothy Mae sat on the sofa next to Ray and beamed with delight. “What is it, son?”

“A matching convertible just like mine.” Ray was thrilled he’d found a red 1941 BMW 327 Cabrio vintage convertible with a manual transmission because only five models like it stilled existed.  He’d even gotten them matching personalized license plates. “Do you know if she knows how to drive a stick shift?”

Nicki sat on the arm of her father’s chair and shook her head sideways. “Well if she does, I never seen her drive one.”

“Well, tomorrow,” Ray advised. “I’ll take her out in my car and teach her.”

Big Eddie stretched his legs in front of him and put both hands on top of his stomach. “Don’t do it.”

From across the room, Ida Mae gave her husband a pointed look. “Why not?”

“That boy don’t need to be trying to teach that gal how to drive a stick in his good car.” Big Eddie slid his eyes shut, then added, “Boy, I’m telling ya, don’t do it.”

Dorothy patted the top of Ray’s hand. “Son, don’t listen to Big Eddie. Laney Olivia’s got a good head on her shoulder. She won’t have trouble learning to drive a stick shift.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ray glanced at his watch again. He went back to the edge of the staircase. “Red!”

“Just a minute, darling,” Laney sang out sweetly.

Ray returned back to the living room and motioned with his hand to everyone. “C’mon let’s head to the dining room.”

Big Eddie pried one eye open. “Why?”

“You heard Red,” Ray explained. “She’ll be down in a minute.”

Big Eddie snorted. “Betcha she won’t.”

Jewel settled her back to the sofa, crossing her arms over her chest. “Uncle Eddie’s right on this one.”

Ray frowned. “But Red just said—”

“Boy,” Big Eddie chuckled, “don’t ya know when a woman answers a man in that pillow talk voice, it’ll be at least fifteen mo’ minutes. Maybe more.”

“What,” Ray exclaimed and threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Are you sure?”

Big Eddie nodded. “Positive.”


Daaayuuum
,” Ray mumbled under his breath. He sat heavily on the sofa, again. “We’ll starve to death waiting on Red. What should I do?””

Ida Mae answered. “Sit down, hush up, and wait.”

~ ~ ~

“Okay, darling.” The next day, Laney gripped both hands around the steering wheel of Ray’s convertible with confidence. She glanced over at the passenger seat.  “I’ve got it this time.”

No she didn’t. Ray sucked his teeth. For the last hour he’d tried to teach Laney how to drive a stick shift. “Okay, baby, let’s take it from the top again. You got three pedals you working with. Got that?”

Laney moved her feet to the side and glanced down. “Gas, brake, and clutch. I’ve got it.”

Ray pointed to the gearshift. “Now you’re working with four gears. Got that?”

Laney went silent and stared out the windshield with a deep concentrated look.

Ray groaned. Mary Mother of Jesus, she was thinking, again.

“Well, why—”

“Look it, Red. The car’s got four gears.” Ray jumped on this one quick. If he let Laney analyze whatever was swirling through her brilliant mind, they could very well be there all night. “See this?” He held up his left hand and folded back four fingers. “One, two, three, four. Four gears. That’s it and that’s all.”

“Okay, darling, I’ve got it.”

Maybe they were getting somewhere this time, Ray thought. At least he hoped so. He’d already explained the difference between the gears. He’d told her how she needed to listen to the sound of the engine so she knew when it was time to shift. He’d even showed her the H pattern on the gearshift. Without touching the shifter knob, he’d pointed to each of the four numbers. Now he discovered driving a manual transmission ranked side-by-side with her culinary skills. Still, Ray flashed a grin of confidence. “That’s my girl. Okay, I want you to do everything exactly the way I explained and showed you. Ready?”

With a look of determination, Laney gripped the steering wheel again and looked straight ahead. “Ready.”

Ray subtly made the sign of the cross. He hoped so, too. It had been the longest hour of his life.

Laney placed her left foot all the way down on the clutch at the same time she placed her right foot on the brake. She glanced over at the gearshift to be certain it was in first gear. Satisfied that all systems were a go, she turned on the ignition.

Ray lifted his brow, impressed. So far, so good.

She lifted her left foot of the clutch a little too soon, though. The car jerked forward and the engine cut off.

“Red—”

“No, no, darling. I remember everything you said. I’ve got it.”

Ray glanced over at Laney and smiled.  Although he’d spent the last several weeks planning for her birthday, he wanted to be sure he’d covered all the bases. “So, is there anything special you’d like for your birthday?”

Laney was so focused on driving, the comment didn’t register immediately. She repeated each of the previous steps and this time, she succeeded. In fact, she got to third gear.  Then it dawned on her what Ray had muttered a few moments earlier. She took her eyes off where she was headed and offered him a private smile. “You.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

R
ay paced in a tight circle inside Chez Philippe. In celebration of Laney’s birthday, he’d rented out the entire restaurant located inside The Peabody Hotel in downtown Memphis, known for its impeccable French and Asian cuisine for the occasion. And for the first time in his life, he’d gambled. The Presidential Suite was on stand-by. Whether he and Laney occupied it tonight was strictly her call. 

He’d checked and double-checked with the staff to ensure his instructions were followed to the letter. Perfection was never more important to him than it was this evening. He glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time. God, he hoped the chauffer he’d hired to pick her up arrived soon. A soft clearing of the throat made him halt mid-stride.

Then he saw her.

Laney wore a simple, red, raw-silk strapless dress with a colorful shawl draped artfully over one shoulder and held a tiny beaded purse. She wasn’t a clotheshorse, but her sense of style and color added elegance to practically everything she wore. Ray needed a moment, just a little while to stare, to drink in her beauty. His gaze began at the two pearl studs at her ears, slowly drifted to her bare throat, and finally rested at her tiny feet covered with thin strapped, open-toed heels.

Dressed in a black, mandarin collard tuxedo, Ray walked over. He waited until she gave the maître d’ her shawl, then handed her a single red rose. He held his arm out and escorted them to their table in the middle of the restaurant. Under normal circumstances, he’d order a bottle of Dom Perígnon, but opted for sparkling water instead.

Ray peered over his menu.  “You’re awfully quiet, Red.”

“I’m a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

Now it was time to worry. What had he not thought of that she needed or wanted?
A
nxiety
hit him and he nervously
chuckled. “Why?”

Laney glanced around the semi-lit dining room. It was just the two of them. Never in life had any man gone to these lengths for her. She not only felt beautiful, but special. Excitement thumped in the pit of her stomach, tightening every muscle in her body, and produced an ache between her legs. “You’ve created such a wonderful environment. This is pure magic. Thank you, darling.”

“No, thank you,” Ray uttered quietly. “If it had not been for you, I wouldn’t have known what it is like to court a woman. It’s like I told you before, Red. You give me perspective.”

“I’ve gained a lot of perspective being with you, too,” she said just above a whisper.

They sat quietly for the next few moments. When their gazes finally locked, Laney felt a dull heat creeping between them, which she wanted to turn into a raging inferno. “There are so many entrees to choose from,” she said, finally breaking the silence and placed the menu on the table.

“Perhaps we could give the Scottish salmon a shot.”

She offered him a private smile. “What I want isn’t on the menu.”

“All right.” Ray leaned in closer until his chest collided with the table and placed his menu aside. “Want me to get the chef to prepare a special request?”

She toyed with the stem of the rose, looking directly at him. “I don’t think he can.”

“He could give it a shot.”

“His efforts would be in vain. You see, what I want was wonderfully and uniquely prepared just for me thirty-eight years ago by Alcee and Angelique Baptiste.”

Ray swallowed hard, his brain nearly on overload, and his eyes at half-mast. His voice came out on a ragged whisper. “You’re sure?”

“I’m very,
very
, sure.”

Ray knocked over a crystal stem water glass when he signaled the maître d’ to their table.

“Monsieur Baptiste, is something wrong?” The maître d’ asked when he rushed over.

Ray searched Laney’s face for any hint of uncertainty. Those green eyes were calm and filled with desire. “We need to leave.”

The maître d’ scanned the table. “If the sparkling water is not to your liking—”

“You drink it.”

“Monsieur Baptiste—”

“Bring the lady’s shawl,” Ray growled, cutting the maître d’ a lethal glare. “She’d like to leave. Now!”

Finally, comprehension dawned on the man. “I’ll take care of your request immediately, sir.”

After they left the restaurant, Ray and Laney walked hand in hand to the bank of elevators. She looked up at him with dreamy, green eyes, and parted her lips. That did it. His hands found the side of her face, cradling it with care as his mouth captured hers.

When the elevator door opened and they stepped inside, her single request sent him into oblivion. “Hurry.”

~ ~ ~

Ray froze the moment they got to the Presidential Suite. It took a split second for the coordination between his brain and eyes to sync up. Now was not the time for his fingers to act stupid. He clumsily wrestled with the card key, then backed away and allowed Laney to stroll past. Closing the door, he never took his eyes away from her. 

Rose petals scattered on the floor, renditions of his musical arrangements played softly in the background and countless scented candles caused tears to shimmer in Laney’s eyes. 

“I hope this is okay?” Ray whispered.

Temporarily lost was the fact they’d lived in the same house for months while he’d recuperated. They already knew each other. She’d made the internal adjustments of the sizzling physical desire between. In all the ways that mattered, they were already lovers. The pact between them was made months ago. Invisible strands of love had wrapped around her heart from the start, and the web entrapping them for a lifetime was at hand.  She simply offered him a slow, sweet smile. “It’s perfect.”

Ray asked, again. “You’re sure you want this?”

“It depends on what you plan to do,” she said in a sultry voice and looped her arms around his neck.

His eyes grew dark passion. The desires of his heart, the ones he’d wanted to act on all these months, but couldn’t, took center stage. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do and everything you’ll let me.” Finally he heard the arrangement of a melody he’d recorded just for her. He circled his arms around her waist. “Dance with me?”

BOOK: IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN
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