More Than He Can Handle (3 page)

“That's not what I'm saying, but you could lighten up a bit, since you're going to have the pleasure of spending the night with me.”

Scoffing at his suggestion, Freddie folded her arms underneath her breasts. “As if that's some sort of prize. I don't want to spend all night here.”

“I have a nice room at the Best Western.”

Freddie raised her hand to slap him, but Cleveland was quick enough to block her blow. When he enclosed her hand in his, he whirled her around as if they were dancing then pulled her against his chest. In one quick movement, he brought his lips down on top of hers. Surprisingly, she didn't resist him and she tasted even better than she looked.

 

 

Freddie didn't realize what was happening until she parted her lips to allow his tongue entry into her awaiting mouth. Damn, he felt so good, so strong and warm. Why had her treacherous body responded to his soft lips and warm tongue? Why had she melted against the rigidness of his body? Before she'd gotten too heady from the passion of Cleveland's kiss, she regained her senses and pushed him away. This time her smack made the connection with his jaw.

“You cocky son of a . . .”

“Excuse me,” the florist said timidly. “I have a question about the archway for the church.”

Freddie plastered a smile on her face and followed the woman into the kitchen where she had the roses laid out. Much to her chagrin, Cleveland followed them.
Ignore him,
she told herself as she tried to focus on what the florist was saying to her. But Cleveland's masculine scent filled her nostrils, making him impossible to disregard. Plus, she couldn't get the taste of his lips out of her mind. As much as she wanted to just get through this evening, she couldn't help but wonder if she was going to want more of Cleveland.
No, this man probably has a stable of willing women to do whatever he wants them to do and there's no reason for you to join in.
Turning to the florist, Freddie tried to direct her as to how she was to form the archway.

“I have a suggestion,” Cleveland said, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. “If you're building this grand archway, shouldn't you do it at the entrance of the church, that way when you move it, you won't lose so many petals?”

The florist nodded. “Yes, but this is too heavy for me to move on my own.”

Cleveland lifted the arch as if it weighed less than a pound and headed for the front of the church. Freddie, for the first time since his lips left hers, took a deep breath as he walked away. There was no way she'd allow him to place her under his spell.

It had taken half the night to get the flowers arranged at the church as Lillian had instructed. By the time Cleveland, Freddie and the florist were finished, the place looked like a spring garden. Freddie was surprised that Cleveland worked as hard as he had and he was kind to the florist, who had more than once gotten frustrated by Lillian's constant phone calls and demands for photos to be sent to her cell phone.

But just as she was about to count Cleveland as an okay guy, he'd say something smug that reinforced her initial thoughts of him. As the florist was packing up to leave, Cleveland turned to Freddie and said in a low voice, “Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

“What?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Spending the night with me.”

“You're so crass and we're in a church for God's sake.”

“You need to lighten up. Smiling every now and then would do wonders for you.”

Clicking her tongue against her teeth, she said, “If I had something or someone to smile at then I would. What, did you think I would jump into bed with you because you stuck a few flowers in the right places and you finally stopped complaining every five minutes about being here?”

“No,” he said as he rocked back on his heels. “I thought you'd hop into bed with me because you find me incredibly sexy and you want to have the time of your life.”

“Not if you were the last man on the face of the earth.”

Closing the space between them, he stroked her cheek gently. “If that's the case, then why did you kiss me? There was a spark and I know you felt it just as much as I did.”

Rolling her eyes, she was about to deny everything he said, but Cleveland quickly brought his lips down on hers again. She was expecting another passionate and fiery kiss, instead he pecked her gently and pulled back. Despite herself, she moaned and Cleveland smiled knowingly.

“Stop fighting it, Freddie,” he growled. “You want me and you know it.”

“I want no such thing,” she said weakly.

“Save a dance for me tomorrow,” he said as he headed for the door. “Are you coming, or are you going to stay here and pray that you won't dream about me when your head hits the pillow?”

Straightening her back, Freddie marched out the door, then turned to face Cleveland. “You flatter yourself, you know. You're not a prize and I'm not some empty-headed bridesmaid who believes in the magic of weddings. If I did sleep with you, you'd be the one who couldn't handle it and would be begging me to be with you every night. So, dream of that as you go to sleep hot and bothered. And one more thing, touch me again and I'll make certain that you'll regret it.”

“Or will you regret it if I don't kiss you again and make you quiver all over. When's the last time you had . . .”

Freddie pushed away from him. “That's all it's about to you, isn't it? Sex.”

“I never said anything about sex, you keep going there. If that's what you want, it can be arranged and trust me—you'd love it.”

She fought the urge to flip him off, instead she walked to her car and ignored him. But she couldn't help wondering if Cleveland was right about how good it would be to lie in his strong arms and feel the heat of his breath against her neck as they wrapped themselves around each other and got lost in a wave of passion and ecstasy. “Stop it,” she whispered to herself. “That man is just like all the rest, he's just a little smoother.”

“Only crazy people talk to themselves,” Cleveland said as he walked up behind her.

“Are you following me?”

Cleveland rolled his eyes as he watched her fumble with the lock on her door. “Most women would just say ‘Thank you.'”

“For what? Stalking me? You flatter yourself too much.”

“No, for seeing you to your car in this dark parking lot, making sure no harm came to you. I could've just gotten in my car and sped off.”

“I don't need a man to take care of me. I've done a fine job of keeping the boogeyman at bay without your help.”

“Forget it, you're so damned bitter that you wouldn't understand someone being nice to you if he kissed you dizzy. Which, I might add, I did a few minutes ago, even if you try to pretend that it didn't happen.” Cleveland stormed away from her and Freddie slid into her car. Placing the key in the ignition, she turned the key, but nothing happened. Banging her hand against the steering wheel, she cursed herself for not getting her vintage Mustang serviced before making the trip to Georgia. The candy apple red car was the only thing of value that she had of her father, a faceless man whom she had only fleeting memories of. What she did remember was her mother, Loraine, telling her how men like her father were not to be trusted. They only wanted one thing and once they got it, they'd move on. Just like her father did. Just like the boy she loved in college did and just like Cleveland would if she gave him a chance.

Freddie wasn't bitter, she was a realist. And in her reality, love didn't last and didn't exist. She had too much going on, running her business and trying to rebuild her life after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. The last thing she needed was to be worried about some man and his comings and goings. Her childhood home had been destroyed and she wasn't sure if she wanted to rebuild it. On the other hand, the boutique hotel that she and her mother owned in the French Quarter was thriving. Though with tourism at a standstill in the Crescent City, it wasn't going to be long before they started feeling the economic pinch as well. Freddie wanted to start over like so many people in New Orleans had done following the storm, but her mother depended on her to run the place.

Since the storm, Loraine had been living in Houston at Freddie's expense. A part of her thought that her mother was happy that Hurricane Katrina had washed most of New Orleans away. It gave Loraine a chance to put her past behind her, a past that included Freddie's father, Jacques Babineaux. He was known around New Orleans because of the crime he'd committed, killing a man of God. While Freddie knew bits and pieces of the story, her mother never told her everything.

Freddie remembered the day when her father disappeared and the whole city started treating her and her mother as if they were criminals as well. While the whole city knew the story, no one ever told Freddie. As she grew up, she started to search through old newspapers and Internet articles about the 1986 murder, but she wanted the truth from her mother or her father, who was now an escaped convict.

Getting out of the car, she slammed the door and kicked the new tires. Sure the car was pretty, but right now it was pretty useless. Pulling her cell phone out of her purse, she started to dial AAA, but a car pulled alongside her. The driver got out without saying a word and took the phone from her hands.

“Do you need some help?” Cleveland asked softly.

Turning her eyes upward, Freddie realized that she was hardly in a position to turn him away. “My car won't start.”

“Pop the hood and let me take a look,” he said, rolling up his sleeves.

She did as he requested, surprised that he was willing to get his manicured hands dirty.

Cleveland released a low whistle. “Man, I would've given anything to have one of these back in the day. It looks as if you've kept it in good condition.”

“This car has been nothing but a headache, much like its previous owner.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Do you have any idea what's wrong?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

He shook his head as he jiggled cables. “I think I found the problem,” he said as he stepped back from the car. “Get in and try it again.”

Freddie slid into the driver's seat and turned the key. The car started immediately. “What did you do?” she asked as she hopped out of the car, afraid to turn the ignition off.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Cleveland wiped the oil from his hands then smiled at Freddie. “Loose battery cable,” he said. “You might want to get your battery cleaned. And you have some acid leaking from your battery. If you have a cola in your car, I could clean the built up crude on the battery. That's why your cables aren't connecting tightly.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I thought you'd left.”

He shrugged. “I was going to, but I saw that you were having some issues with your car and being the gentleman that I am, I stopped to see if I could help you. Besides, I wondered who this car belonged to.”

“I have to get to Lillian's mother's house before she thinks that I'm not coming home tonight.”

“Let me follow you just in case your car conks out on you again. If you don't consider that stalking,” he said.

“Cleveland,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“I don't mean to be hard, but you have to admit that you come off a little arrogant, and I don't find that attractive at all.”

“And that shrew act you put on, it ages you ten years. Do you want me to see you home safely or what?”

Freddie chewed again on her bottom lip. She really didn't want to go to Lillian's tonight. She'd actually told her friend and her overbearing mother that she was going to check into a hotel. She couldn't deal with those drama queens and their wedding chatter all night. The last thing she wanted, as well, was to answer questions about her life in New Orleans and how she was dealing with the hurricane recovery. But the one decent place in town was booked.

However, there was no way she was going to let Lillian and her nosy mother see Cleveland following her to their house. She would be forced to answer too many questions and all she wanted to do was go to sleep. “I'll be fine,” she said. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You're welcome.” Cleveland said, and got into his car and drove off.

Freddie watched as he drove away and wondered if she might be wrong about him.

Alone in his hotel room, Cleveland had finally found something to think about other than the Atlanta Falcons' playoff berth. Freddie Barker. She wasn't the wicked witch that he thought she was. The way she kissed him was enough to make him want to bury himself inside her until the earth and sun became one and the same. Pacing back and forth in the dank room, he wondered what would've happened if she were in the room with him. Did she wear sexy, lacy underthings or nothing at all? Glancing over his shoulder, he imagined Freddie lying in his bed, inviting him to taste her all over.

What in the hell is wrong with me?
Cleveland thought as he threw himself on the bed, locking his hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.

Sleep didn't come easy for Cleveland because Freddie haunted his dreams. He could smell her, taste her, and he damn near expected to feel her in the bed beside him. What was it about this woman that had made him painfully aware of how long it had been since he'd slept with a woman?

After Darren and Jill got married, Cleveland didn't find the satisfaction in temporary entanglements that had gotten him through the last few years. He wanted something like what Darren and Jill had. A real connection, not just a physical one, but he wasn't going to admit it. With Freddie, he'd settle for a physical one because she was one sweet piece of—The telephone rang announcing his wake-up call and Cleveland rolled out of bed. He wasn't rested, but at least this wedding would be over soon.

 

 

Freddie closed her eyes tightly as the alarm clock blared. Why in the world was she in Covington, Georgia? Oh, yeah, Lillian's wedding. Today was the day and she couldn't wait for it to be over. Before she could force herself out of bed, the door to the guest room flung open and Lillian burst in as if it were noon and not six in the morning.

“Good morning, maid of honor. So, how did it go last night? You rushed in here and went straight to bed before I could ask you any questions.” Lillian pounced on the bed and Freddie grunted. “That well, huh?”

Freddie flung the covers back and sat up in the bed. “First of all, things went fine last night. Secondly, why are you in here and how in the hell are you so damn perky?”

Lillian stretched her arms over her head. “It is my wedding day. I'm marrying the man of my dreams in twelve hours and there is so much to do. When are you going to settle down, Winnie?”

“Don't call me that. Settling down isn't in my future. I have to rebuild, remember? My home was blown away.” Freddie gritted her teeth. “You could've brought me some coffee.”

“I forgot, you're a caffeine addict. Why not leave New Orleans and start fresh? You could move here. It would be like old times at Xavier, except we wouldn't be roommates this time.”