Love Delivered (44 page)

Stenton:
LMAO! This is gonna be so much fun. Glad you can cum. :)

Me:
Don’t you mean ‘come’?

Stenton:
Yeah…that too. Lata…

~~~~~~~~~~

~
Stenton
~

As Zoey peruses the menu, rummaging through the options for dinner, I get to steal ogles. If it’s even possible, my attraction to her has almost tripled since the first time I laid eyes on her. All throughout the concert, I struggled to keep my hands occupied and not on her. I gripped my bottles of beer, pushed my fingers into my pockets, and even tapped my legs, all to avoid touching her. It pissed me the hell off that she didn’t touch me. I expected it during one of the group’s old tracks they covered while sharing their new stuff; I just knew Zo would break and feel the need to express the romance of the song. I was wrong.

She looks good as fuck in short shorts, tall heels and a body suit. Extremely sexy and far more provocative than I’m accustomed to seeing her. When I picked her up, I had to quickly resolve that I don’t exactly know Zoey as well as I used to. She’s evolved in her femininity and expressions of it since getting pregnant with Jordan. What I don’t like is the idea of other fuckers getting the same view I’ve had all night, experiencing the same desires I’ve felt all damn night, although she hasn’t touched me past the kiss on my cheek when I arrived at her door. I’m not used to this.

Zoey always shows affection with her hands. She loves to rub, grip, pat, and caress. It’s in her nature. I’ve seen her do it with Jordan countless times, even occasionally with her parents, but not at all with me tonight. It’s been killing me. It’s one of sundry things I’ve missed about her and had dreaded thoughts of her doing with other men.

“So, what are you in the mood for?”

I look up to find her using her index finger to tap at her top teeth as she continues to study the menu.

“I’m on my in-season diet. I’ll have fish and ask them to hold the butter.”

Her eyes jump from the menu and onto me. “Oh, that’s right. Are you excited about the new season?”

Just then, the waiter comes for our order. We give it to him and as soon as he leaves, Zoey goes back to her question.

“So, you…back to my question. Are you excited?” she inclines into the table, placing her elbows on it, poised to listen.

“I am. I’m extremely excited about my physique at this age. I plan to play my ass off for the league and fans this last year or so.”

“So, it’s true? You are retiring?”

I shrug. “It’s time. Every player’s wish is to bow out at the top of his game. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid serious injuries, indicative of aging in the league. I don’t want my pride to wane along with my body. It’s time.”

With wide eyes and her mouth set into an “O,” Zoey absorbs my words. I’ve missed this.

“Are you experiencing any anxiety over this? I can’t believe you’re talking retirement. I know I’ve known you for some years, but hearing you talk about this makes me feel old.” She shakes her head. “But you’re not old. My parents are old and they’re not ready to retire. You still look to be in great physical shape to me.”

I can show you better than I can tell you.

She takes a sip of her wine, another penchant of hers developed since getting pregnant. I like it.

“How soon do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t know. Could be after this season. Could go another. But I damn sure don’t have another three in me.”

“What are you going to do when there are no more practices, long seasons, announcements of
Stentiiiiiiin Rogeeeeeers!
?” she imitates the announcer roll.

I chuckle at her silly ass. The wine is getting to her; I can tell.

I now rest my elbows on the table. “I’ve set up several investment pools…looking at a few more. It’ll be nice to get your opinion on it. I’d even be willing to invest in
Niña’s Sweet Cakes
.”

Zoey turns red at that. Shit, at least I see I still affect her! Her shoulders rise to her neck, she smiles with tight lips, trying to mask the extent of her amusement.

  “Seriously, I would. But we can discuss that at another time. Right now I wanna know what’s up with you.”

Zoey exhales long and hard as she considers my question. She then sits back in her seat.

“A lot.” She takes a nip at her drink, but doesn’t put her glass down. She holds it in one hand as she uses her other arm to cross her stomach. “I have a wonderful opportunity to expand the bakery to a New York location, right in Brooklyn. The rent is low—well, low for NYC—the physical location is pretty decent, and the site was a bakery previous and comes with a few ovens and a sink we can use refurbished.”

“Sounds like all good reasons to go for it.”

She shakes her head, her eyes somewhere in the table before taking another sip. “It is. It’s just… It’s just that taking that on would stretch me beyond capacity. It’s not all that I want. And I can’t have that and what I’ve wanted more than anything else for the past three years.”

“And what’s that?”

“A baby.” Her eyes finally land on me.

Fuck…

“I’m not trying to drop a bomb on you or anything…”

“No. I didn’t believe you were.”

I just can’t give it to you that easily
.

Shit!

Now is not the time to uncover the final part of my “original plan.”

“Good. But I’m debating this next venture because I’ve finally come to the conclusion that women can’t really have it all—at least not at my age, we can’t. We’re just not genetically programmed to be able to take it all on. If I want to be a mother, that
has
to be my priority. There is no better investment in life than that which you put into your children. I’ve been extremely fortunate to have a balanced child in Jordan, and you’ve assisted in that. It’s been a miracle, but he’s survived me finishing my undergrad, my graduate tenure, and me opening three bakeries.” Her eyes connect with mine. “I can’t do this fourth bakery with a newborn.” There’s a pause. A long pause. “I’d have to do one now and pursue the other in a couple of years.” She flickers her brows and jerks her neck at the same time before sipping from her glass.

“If you had to choose, which do you want more?”

After a deep breath she mutters, “Before getting another opportunity with you, I would have chosen the bakery, not wanting multiple fathers for my children. Beyond that, not trusting another man to parent with…not wanting to experience that passage with anyone but you. Now that you’re back… Well, you know.” Her eyes flutter with insecurity.

I nod. “I’ll support you any way I can. It’s your choice.”

Then Zoey lets go of a shaky breath that has her frame shuddering. I can’t believe she’s held on to this weighty decision. I also see that she’s crossed a new bridge of wisdom in terms of her pseudo-feminist mentality. I don’t know if women can have it all, but I do know I’ll do whatever this woman sitting across from me needs to pursue it. My love for her won’t let my support for her abate. In my eyes, Zoey
can
have it all.

We enjoy dinner as we continue our conversation. When I drop her off at her door, Zoey reaches up, grabs my one shoulder, inviting me down to meet her (
Damn, I’ve missed this!
), and she bestows a lingering peck on my lips. I swear when the door closes behind her; I want to fall to my knees to beg her to let me in. But I don’t. Zoey wants to play this game of no sex. I’ll go along with it until she changes her mind and realizes our chemistry is too powerful to control.

Whenever the fuck that will be.

~~~~~~~~~~

~
Zoey
~

Three days after our first date, I receive a text from Stenton.

Stenton:
Hey

Me:
Hey yourself. How was training today?

Stenton:
It busted my ass. I’m glad to be done.

Me:
Aging sucks.

Stenton:
I can tell you who doesn’t.

Me:
Easy StentRo. I’m just looking out for your health. Don’t want to be the cause of your heart attack in your advanced age.

Stenton:
What the fuck ever Zo. I wanted to tell you that I’d like to take you out this Friday. The only problem is I have my son. I’m sure he’ll be cool with meeting you. Do you mind if it’s a threesome?

Me:
I don’t usually date men with children. I made a concession with you.

Stenton:
I swear he’s cute as fuck. Looks just like his momma. He’s polite, mannerable and will impress you with his intelligence.

Me:
Ughhhhh! I guess. If you weren’t so sexy and I wasn’t trying to get into your pants, it would be a no go.

Stenton:
We can skip the date and I’ll throw you my pants for the taking.

Me:
STENT! YOU’RE DISRUPTING THE ROLE PLAY HAPPENING HERE.

Stenton:
And you’re NOT disrupting my blue balls.

Me:
Ugh! What time should I be ready on Friday?

Stenton:
Ha! At about 8.

Me:
I’ll see you and the little crumb-snatcher then.

Stenton:
Can’t wait til I cum. :)

Me:
STENTON!

Stenton:
Damn autocorrect! I meant COME! :)

~~~~~~~~~~

At dinner, we’re ironically at the same Italian restaurant we visited last spring before taking Jordan to Gameroom. I learn tonight the restaurant,
DiFillipo’s,
is the one Stenton has invested in with Azmir Jacobs. He said he made the deal final about a week after we left because of my response to their crème brûlée. Odd, but…sweet. I only wish he would have let me review the investment proposal before signing. I understand Mr. Jacobs is an astute businessman, but I’m not to be slept on either. This deal would also explain the low-key-
ness
of the place. There are still no paparazzi hanging out in the bushes. What hasn’t changed is we don’t do things alone as a family. Our outings always include bodyguards. I have to get used to this again.

We weren’t able to avoid the paps after the
Yo Gabba Gabba!
Live!
show we saw earlier. There were cameras snapping everywhere. And Stenton welcomed it all as he posed and smiled with Jordan and me patiently while they got all their shots. The attention doesn’t bother me so long as Stenton and I are finally together. It actually feels good to see he’s zealous about showing us off as a family. I’m itching to check all the blogs for those shots. Or better yet, going to Getty Images for the first sightings of them, but I don’t. I’m with my guys, enjoying crème brûlée.

I still haven’t touched Stenton. It’s driving me crazy that’s he’s so near and I haven’t grazed his skin, pressed into his hard arms or thighs even through his clothes, sampled him—his taste or touch—or acted out any of my thousands of fantasies I’ve developed with him, unhealthily, in mind. My palms have literally itched for his touch. My tongue actually twitches from the sight of his heart-shaped lips. My thighs contract when I gaze directly into his marbled eyes. I still can’t believe we’re together. Still hard to conceive he’s finally mine.

“JR, son, your moms and I have something to share with you,” Stenton announces, bringing me back to the table.

Jordan’s eyes go back and forth between Stenton and me. When Stenton refers to him as “son,” it captures even my attention.

“What, Daddy?”

Stenton throws me a glance before speaking, perhaps asking if I want to take the lead. “Well, your mom and I have decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Jordan busts out with the heartiest laughter. It’s so huge, Stenton and I can’t fight our amusement. I don’t know why my child finds this particularly funny, but then again, this all feels weird. He’s six years old, and the idea of his parents being close is quite…amusing, apparently.

“Seriously, Jordan, we are,” Stenton reaffirms.

“Hold up. What does that mean?” He looks at me. “Is that like what you did with Bernard?”

“No!” Stenton abruptly imposes. “It’s…not exactly like what your mom did with Bernard. This is something more serious and far more special.”

Stenton’s eyes pierce me.
Well…dang!
I swallow hard.

“Ohhhhh! Okay…cool!” Jordan approves.

I don’t think he knows what he’s approving specifically, but gets the idea of some unity among his parents.

“Pumpkin, this means, Mommy and Daddy will be spending more time together, being better partners, and not just for you, but for us.” I motion my index finger between Stenton and me.

“Okay. So, we’re going to go to shows and out to eat like this all the time now?” Jordan asks with such a gleam in his eyes.

“No.” Stenton’s answer is just as adamant as earlier. “This won’t always include you, but it will mean more family time for all of us.”