Playing For Keeps (7 page)

“I wasn't trying to be,” he said as he moved behind her. “In fact, I was very serious.” He grabbed her hand, entwining her fingers between his. They continued browsing through the collection of artwork, not saying another word and it was only when they were back in his car, their seatbelts tightened around their torsos, that Malcolm resumed the conversation.

“For the record,” he said, as he twisted in his seat and turned to stare at her. “If we should ever have a son and he gets out of hand, I'll have no problem enforcing the appropriate punishment, even if it means taking a switch to his behind. We will raise a strong, decent man so I am not going to stand idly by while you over-pamper any boy child of mine like he's a baby.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“I mean it. I've seen too many women babying grown-ass men who needed a size fourteen up their backsides and not a soft hand talking about ‘my baby this' and ‘my baby that.' That won't happen to any son of mine. Trust that.”

Cilla laughed. “Have you ever given any consideration to having more children?” she asked.

Malcolm shook his head. “To be honest, I never thought I'd meet a woman I would want to have a child with.” He paused and his gaze drifted for a brief second. “That is, not until you,” he concluded, his eyes returning to her face.

Cilla smiled as they continued to stare at each other. “I always imagined that I would have at least two kids,” she said. “Maybe even three.”

Malcolm nodded. “Something for us both to consider, but understand, I don't do children out of wedlock. My mother is a card-carrying Baptist raised in the deep Deep South and she don't play, so if you want to have kids with me, Cilla Jameson, you'll have to marry me.”

She laughed again. “So is that your way of asking me to marry you, Malcolm Cobb?”

He grinned. “That was full disclosure. You said you wanted to have my baby and I'm just making sure you know what that's going to entail.”

Cilla shook her head. “How'd we get on this subject anyway?”

“You started it.”

“Well, let's change it,” she quipped.

Malcolm chuckled softly. “Whatever you want, beautiful, but I have to ask you one question first.”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about meeting my daughters? Because I really want you to get to know my girls.”

 

 

Cilla couldn't stop grinning. Malcolm had left over an hour ago and thoughts of him still had her smiling like a Cheshire cat. After the exhibit they'd gone for hot dogs at Snoopy's, Cilla finally fulfilling her promise to treat him to the meal. They'd laughed, talked, teased, flirted, and had laughed some more. Before either realized it the time had flown by and Malcolm had needed to head to work. He had returned her to her home and had walked her to her front door, giving her a kiss that left her wanting so much more.

The kiss had been heated, his hands gliding the length of her body, as if on a mission of their own accord. His touch had been teasing, sending currents of electricity through every nerve ending. He'd grabbed her ass, kneading the soft tissue as he'd pulled her against the hardened member that had risen with a vengeance in his pants. His touch had taken her breath away and it would have taken very little for Cilla to open herself to him, excited to explore the sensual side of their relationship. Cilla had wanted him like she had never wanted any man before and she'd said so.

“Stay,” she'd whispered, inviting him inside.

Malcolm had captured her mouth a second time, his tongue searing her own. She'd gasped loudly as he'd trailed his fingers across the curve of one breast and then the other, her nipples hardening as they protruded against the fabric of her blouse.

When he'd pulled away he'd blown a soft sigh, dropping his forehead to hers. His fingers continued to play with the buttons on her top, teasing the lace that edged her bra.

“I can't,” he'd finally whispered, sucking in the cool air that had finally drifted between them. “And God knows I want to, baby, but I have to go to work. You know that if I come inside that's not where I'm going to be headed.”

Cilla had giggled softly, knowing that he was right. If he had come inside, Malcolm leaving would have been next to impossible. So he left, with the promise that he would call as soon as he was able.

She blew a soft, easy sigh, her smile filling her face one more time. She shook her head as she moved from the living room into the kitchen to fill a glass with ice and water, recalling everything they'd talked about during the time they'd spent together.

There had been an in-depth conversation about his children and his expectations regarding them and any woman he brought into their lives. Malcolm had admitted to having some anxieties and he'd been honest and open about his concerns. Cilla had been as forthcoming about her own apprehensions. She'd always known she wanted children but never before had she considered a ready-made family. In fact, she had always sworn off men with children. Until Malcolm. And now he was wanting her to meet his daughters, hopeful that they would actually like one another. The weight of that was heavy and Cilla didn't take what it would mean lightly.

Their conversation had run the gamut from thought-provoking to comical, one subject leading to another and then another. The two had discussed whatever had moved them at the moment and Cilla loved that she could talk to him so easily. Getting to know Malcolm was proving to be one pleasant surprise after another. She'd never known a man so transparent, his honesty and openness a refreshing change of pace from what she had known in the past. He was also a sweet romantic with a generous spirit. Her mother would have described him as a true Southern gentleman. Malcolm Cobb was proving himself to be one of the good guys and Cilla found that extremely attractive.

As she moved back into the living room and nestled herself comfortably against her upholstered recliner, she replayed their entire afternoon over again in her head. As the memories flooded back she shook her head. She thought back to how he'd touched her, his fingers hot against her skin and how delightfully sweet his kisses had been.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to temper her desire for him and the nearness of him had begun to feel like lighter fluid tossed on an already burning flame. Cilla had always maintained a ninety-day rule with men she dated, needing at least eighty-nine of them to figure out whether or not they were deserving of her sugar and sweets. But Malcolm already had her ready to toss aside her convictions and her panties, convinced that everything about the man warranted her giving up the goodies. His upstanding demeanor with his scorching touch made her hot as hell.

She took a sip of her water. Placing the glass back down on the table she reached for the paperback book she had rested there. It was a political-themed novel by Cheris Hodges, one of her favorite romance authors. As she flipped to where she'd marked the last page she'd read, she exhaled.

Being honest with herself Cilla knew she would have preferred to be strumming her fingertips across Malcolm's broad chest and back and not through the pages of a book. Since that first cup of coffee she'd been fantasizing about the man, imagining what it would be like to be in his arms as he made love to her. Envisioning each touch, the rich scent of his cologne teasing her nostrils, every hardened muscle connecting with her soft curves. And with each fantasy and every moment in his presence, Cilla wanted him like she had never wanted anything else before.

 

 

“Malcolm?” Miss Claudette called his name as he came through the garage door.

The house was still lit and music played softly through the speakers nestled in the walls.

Her voice echoed through the space a second time. “Malcolm, I need to speak with you.”

He moved into the room where she sat upright in a wingback chair, her beloved Bible resting in her lap. “Hey, Mama,” Malcolm whispered loudly. “I just knew you'd be asleep by now.”

The matriarch shook her head. “Too much on my mind, son. How was work tonight?”

“Busy. Romeo took the night off to spend some time with Taryn and we were slammed.”

“I ran into her and the baby at Harris Teeter the other day. He is just as precious as he can be and growing too, too fast.”

“I miss those days,” Malcolm said thoughtfully. “They fly by way too fast. The girls are growing up and I wish I could keep them from it.”

His mother nodded. “That's what I want to talk to you about.”

Malcolm reached for the ottoman and pulled it alongside his mother's chair. As he took a seat facing her he folded his hands in his lap. He gave her his full attention. “Is something wrong?”

“I'm worried about Cleo. Something's going on with her. She hasn't been herself since the last time they spent a week with their mother.”

Malcolm's eyes shifted back and forth as he thought back to his daughter's last visit with her other parent. He'd been so focused on the nightclub, the property purchase, the business, and Cilla that he'd attributed Cleo's bad behavior to her being a teenager testing the boundaries. Despite his instincts screaming that she surely wasn't herself he'd never given any consideration to something having happened to her. His body suddenly tensed as he fathomed the possibilities. He inhaled swiftly.

Sensing his tension his mother pressed a hand to his knee, tapping it gently. “Now, don't you go getting crazy! I don't need you and Shanell at each other's throats before we figure out what's going on. You know how she gets and I don't want the girls to have to deal with her foolishness. Things are good right now and if there's no reason to upset the status quo then we're not going to do so.”

Malcolm took another deep breath then swallowed hard. “Do you have any idea what it might be?”

Miss Claudette shook her head as she responded. “Not a clue. I point blank asked Claudia if she knew anything and she said that she didn't but I know she lied. Claudia always gets that twitch in her eye when she's telling a fib. She knows something and she's trying to protect her sister.”

Malcolm nodded. “I'll talk to Cleo. She'll tell me if something's wrong.”

His mother hesitated for a brief moment. “I hope that she does but I don't want you to be surprised if she shuts you out. It's the age but Cleo also has a lot of her mother's ways. She gets angry quick and she shuts down when she can't handle things.”

“I hate that she and I have been bumping heads lately. That's going to make it even harder to get through to her but I can't let her bad behavior slide. If I don't tighten the reins now I know she'll be completely out of control.”

“And you're right. You have to stay steady the course and do what you know is right for her. You have to be her father first. She doesn't need you to be her friend.”

Contemplating his mother's words he sat in reflection for a few moments, his mind racing as he considered what he needed to do. Minutes later Malcolm and his mother exchanged a look.

“What's on your mind?” Miss Claudette asked. “You look like you have something you want to say.”

Malcolm bit down on his bottom lip as he pondered her question for a brief moment. “I want you and the girls to meet my friend Priscilla. She and I talked about it earlier today and I was really comfortable with her and the girls getting to know each other. Now I'm not so sure.”

“Why not?”

“If there's something going on with Cleo, I have to focus on that. I'm starting to think the timing's just bad.”

His mother rocked slightly back and forth, her head nodding. “She must be very special for you to want to introduce her to the girls.”

Malcolm smiled. “I really like her, Mama.”

“Just how serious is it?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders but didn't bother to reply.

His mother pressed her fingertips to the side of his face. Her head bobbed slightly. “Well, I look forward to meeting this young woman,” Miss Claudette said as she opened her Bible. “I'm going to read for a few minutes before I go to bed. If you're hungry, there's some baked lasagna in the refrigerator.”

Nodding, Malcolm stood back up. As he moved out the door his mother called after him.

“Yes, ma'am?”

“If you are serious about this young lady then you have to consider what kind of mother she's going to be toward Claudia and Cleo. My babies need a strong female figure to look up to and they need to see you in a healthy relationship with a woman. There's never going to be a perfect time for her to meet the girls and if she can't handle either one of them having a problem now then she surely won't be able to handle it later. You need to keep that in mind.”

Malcolm stood staring at his mother momentarily. “Yes, ma'am,” he said, nodding his head. He turned to make his exit, the conversation still racing through his head.

Chapter Six

Malcolm woke with a quick start. The air in the room was chilled and he realized he'd kicked his blankets to the floor. It was still dark outside, the early morning hour always perfect for his daily run. He rolled against the mattress to steal a quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Realizing that he had at least another hour before the alarm was scheduled to sound he rolled back, pulling the covers back up over his legs.

After tossing and turning longer than he would have liked he finally sat upright in the bed, rest refusing to come. He'd fallen asleep thinking about his daughters. The girls had consumed his dreams and he'd wakened with thoughts of them on his mind. Morning breath blew past his full lips as he sighed. Although his concerns about what could possibly be affecting Cleo weighed heavily on his spirit, he no longer had any qualms about Cilla meeting his children. He'd taken age-old advice from his mother and had prayed on it, dropping to his knees for answers. In that moment it had felt like everything had come together, his reasons for wanting his daughters and his girlfriend to meet outweighing any concerns about it not working out.

Thoughts of Cilla billowed through his mind. His affection for the woman had grown substantially and he realized that their friendship had quickly become so much more. Although they joked about marriage and children and a future together, Malcolm had come to the realization that Cilla was definitely the woman he could see having all that with. That understanding came with wanting them all to meet and bond.

He felt himself smile, realizing that everything about him and Cilla together felt right with his spirit. When they were together, he felt complete, having never realized just what he'd been missing until she'd come along. He suddenly imagined himself wrapped around her, wishing she were there in his bed beside him. Remembering their shared kisses and her touch made him break out into a sweat, the rise of heat moving him to kick the blankets back to the floor. As he continued to think about Cilla his body responded in kind, an erection lengthening beneath the sheets. He palmed the wealth of flesh, imagining that it was her hands kneading and caressing him so easily. A shiver raced down the length of his spine and his body shuddered at the thought.

He stroked himself easily, wishing it was Cilla who was stroking him. His hardened member twitched eagerly. Perspiration dampened his hand as flesh touched flesh, each pass of his palm shooting a current of electricity through his core. He imaged that it was her fingers gliding up and down against him. He lifted his hips and parted his legs as he stretched his body out against the pillows. Losing himself in the fantasy, he thought about her mouth and the luscious lips that always tasted sweet. He willed that mouth to him, her damp kisses exploring, teasing, tasting. Energy surged with a vengeance as his pace quickened, his fist tightening, his strokes harder. Every muscle tightened, his whole body beginning to feel like it would combust if he couldn't have her.

His lips parted as his breath quickened, Cilla's name on the tip of his tongue. Malcolm knew that once the opportunity presented itself he would eagerly make love to her. He was almost desperate to make love to her, he thought, imagining his body delving deep inside hers. He pushed himself into his palm, over and over again, as he imagined himself pushing and pulling his whole self in and out of her body. He moaned her name over and over again as if in prayer, every thought of Cilla Jameson consuming him. As he fantasized about her warmth, moistness wrapped around him, her juices flowing as he tasted her, Malcolm felt a spasm shoot through his groin. His body pulsed and surged as he bit down against his bottom lip to keep from crying out. He rode wave after wave of pleasure before snatching his hand from his crotch.

His breathing had become a heavy pant as he gasped for air. His body was still heated, still wanting, still wishing Cilla was there to share in the pleasure he imagined between them. Desperate to shake the rising desire that refused to be abated he threw his legs off the side of the bed, moving onto his feet. He inhaled, taking a deep breath and then another. He moved toward the bathroom. Since meeting Cilla, cold showers had become a very necessary evil and Malcolm found himself excited by the prospect of leaving them behind once and for all.

 

 

Malcolm skipped into The Playground, his footsteps light as joy gleamed across his face. Despite the rough start to his morning, Cilla meeting him at the coffee shop had shifted his mood nicely. He liked starting his day with her and he couldn't stop himself from imagining what it might be like to have her wake by his side. They'd enjoyed their morning coffee before he'd kissed her good-bye, the two agreeing to meet up later in the afternoon.

Inside the building, the sound system was on low. He instantly recognized the newest release from Meshell Ndegeocello. The song managed to combine several distinctly disparate styles at once, a bossa nova foundation with a country slide guitar and slinky soul vocals. Something about her intonation and the song's melodious beat felt good, seeming to support the warmth and happiness he found himself feeling.

Romeo was sitting atop a barstool, his requisite calculator, lead pencil, yellow-lined notepad, and financial ledger sheets in hand. They paid an accountant good money to keep their books and records but every month his friend insisted on running the numbers himself as an added system of checks and balances. It gave the man a level of comfort Malcolm didn't understand but still supported. His smile was wide as he greeted his friend.

“Hey, Rome. You find any discrepancies yet?”

Romeo laughed. “I'm still looking. How are things going with you?”

Malcolm grinned. “I have no complaints.”

His buddy nodded, shifting his gaze toward the back of the room. “I hope it lasts,” he said, his voice dropping ever so slightly. He gestured with his eyes.

Malcolm looked where his friend stared and felt his body tense. He bristled when he saw his ex-wife staring in his direction, Shanell eyeing him anxiously. He looked back at Romeo and nodded. “How long has she been here?” Malcolm asked, his own voice now a soft whisper.

Romeo shrugged his broad shoulders. “Ten minutes, maybe. Not too long.”

Malcolm took a deep breath. He cleared his throat before moving toward the woman. As he came to the table where she sat he gave her a quick nod. “Hey, Shanell. What are you doing here?”

She shrugged, the barest of smiles pulling at her thin lips. Ages ago Shanell Cobb had been the most beautiful woman Malcolm had ever known. He had honestly believed they were going to grow old together, the love they shared so solid that no one and nothing could have broken their bond. As he sat staring he couldn't deny that those days were long gone. Shanell had found something she loved more than she had ever loved him.

Shanell's natural hairstyle was a tangled mess atop her head. She wore no makeup, her complexion sallow and blemished. Her clothes were well worn, and the hint of odor wafting off her body told him she probably hadn't bathed in days. Romeo had made her a cup of coffee and a sandwich that she'd barely touched. She had chewed her fingernails down to the quick and her hands were shaking nervously. The transformation since the last time he'd seen her was drastic, and telling. He didn't want to believe the truth but he couldn't begin to deny what was right there in front of his eyes.

He took a deep breath and held it before blowing it slowly out. Then he spoke. “You're using again, aren't you, Shanell?”

The young woman shrugged her narrow shoulders. “What I do isn't any of your business, Malcolm,” she snapped.

He snapped back. “It is when it affects our daughters!”

Shanell rolled her eyes at him “Look, you called me, remember? I got your message and since I was in the neighborhood, I stopped by. But I didn't come here to get no lecture.”

Malcolm took another deep breath. He had called her, wanting to have a discussion about their children. Seeing her face-to-face gave him answers to questions he hadn't imagined he'd ever again need to ask. His sigh was loud and heavy.

“Did anything happen with Cleo the last time you took them to Baltimore?” he asked.

“Anything like what?”

“I don't know, Shanell. That's why I'm asking the question.” His stare was harsh and unnerving.

Shanell dropped her eyes to the table and the coffee cup between her palms. She shook her head from side to side, her gaze darting back and forth. “Nothing happened. They spent most of their time with my mama. Why? Did they say something happened?”

Malcolm shook his head, finally dropping into the seat across the table from her. “No. The girls aren't saying much at all about that trip. But Cleo's been getting out of hand lately and I'm trying to figure out why.”

Shanell blew her own sigh. “Well, I don't know. They were good when they were with me. I didn't have any problems.”

“Did you spend time with them at all?”

“I told you that nothing bad happened. I'm their mother and I would know,” she said emphatically.

Silence washed between them, both eyeing the other skeptically. Shanell finally broke the quiet. “Since we're talking, I need to reschedule my visitation. I'm not going to be able to come get the girls for a while. I lost my job and I'm trying to find a new one.”

“When did this happen?” Malcolm questioned.

She pushed her shoulders toward the ceiling for the umpteenth time. “It's been a while now and since I don't have my apartment no more things are just a little hard for me.” Her eyes darted back and forth, refusing to meet his.

“What do you mean you don't have your apartment? The last time the girls were with you they stayed at your apartment! What happened between then and now?”

“I mean I got evicted!” she snapped. “Evicted! I had to get out this week.”

Malcolm dragged a heavy hand across the back of his neck, rubbing the tension that had pulled the muscles taut. “Why didn't you say something
before
you got evicted, Shanell? You know I would have helped.”

She lifted her eyes back to his and for the first time in a long time, Malcolm saw a brief flicker of something familiar behind the dull gaze. His own misted with tears and he turned his head away, fighting to stop them from falling.

“It's not a big deal,” she said with a shake of her head. “I'm going to work it out.”

Malcolm leaned back in his seat, his hands folded together in his lap. He watched as she fidgeted and shook, the first signs of her coming down from her drug high. It would only be a matter of hours, maybe even minutes, before she would need another fix.

When he spoke again his voice was soothing, his tone calm and even. “Do you want to go to rehab, Shanell? I will pay for help but you have to want it. I can take you right now. Just tell me you want to go, Shanell!”

Shanell jumped to her feet. Ire pierced her expression. “What I want is for you to get off that sanctimonious horse you like to ride and leave me the hell alone! That's what I want,” she said, every muscle in her body shaking.

Across the room Romeo had turned to stare, concern flickering in his eyes. He turned back to his paperwork when Malcolm's gaze waved him down. Turning back to Shanell, Malcolm nodded.

“Fine. But the girls are off-limits until I know you're clean. Don't go to their school. Don't call them. And I mean
no
contact. Do you understand me? And I'm calling their case worker to let her know.”

“I wouldn't hurt my babies, Malcolm!”

“Shanell, when you're using you will do whatever you have to do to get that next hit. You might not mean to cause them harm but you can't control yourself and you know it. I will not let you put them at risk.”

Tears suddenly rained over her cheeks as she hugged her arms tightly around her torso. She nodded her head. “I love my babies, Malcolm. You make sure they know that I love them and I'm going to get help real soon. Promise me you'll let them know that.”

He nodded his head in assent as he moved back onto his feet. “Where are you staying?” he asked, knowing she probably wouldn't be truthful with him.

“I have a friend I'm staying with until tomorrow, then I'm going back to Baltimore to my mama's.”

Malcolm didn't reply, knowing that Miss Maxine would never allow Shanell back home as long as she was in the throes of her addiction. Shanell knew it too. Both knew the streets of wherever she found herself would soon be home for her.

“When you're ready, Shanell, you know I'll be here to help,” he said finally.

Shanell gave him another weak smile. She reached for her sandwich, wrapping it in the paper napkin that rested on the serving tray. She pushed it into her pocket. Her gaze met his one last time. “I could use some money, Malcolm. Just a few dollars. I'll pay you back.”

He hesitated for a brief moment, meeting the look she was giving him. Minutes passed before he finally reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a roll of bills. He counted off five twenty-dollar bills and handed them to her. Her smile widened as she clutched the cash to her chest.

“I'll get help. I promise,” she said as she moved toward the exit door. “Bye!” she shouted as she hurried from sight, the door slamming closed behind her.

Malcolm moved back to where Romeo sat. The two men exchanged a quick look. Rising from his seat, Romeo moved back behind the bar and poured hot coffee into two mugs. He pushed one toward his friend as he sipped from the other.

“You know she's just going to use that money to make a buy, don't you?”

Malcolm nodded. “Yeah, I do. But I hope and pray she doesn't.”