Sweet Dreams (8 page)

“After I graduated, my mother sold the house and moved back to her hometown of Charleston, South Carolina, enrolled in the College of Charleston and earned a degree in Historic Preservation and Community Planning. Then, she applied to and was accepted into a joint MS degree in Historic Preservation with Clemson. With her education behind her, she opened a small shop selling antiques and reproductions of Gullah artifacts.
Her basket-weaving courses have a six-month waiting list.”

Chandra’s mouth curved into an unconscious smile. Preston’s mother had to wait to become a widow to come into her own. Her adage was always Better Late Than Never.

“I remember my parents driving down to Florida one year, and when we went through South Carolina I saw old women sitting on the side of the road weaving straw baskets. I’m sorry we didn’t stop to buy at least one.”

“That’s too bad,” Preston remarked, “because the art of weaving baskets has been threatened with the advance of coastal development. Those living in gated subdivisions wouldn’t let the weavers come through to pluck the sweetgrass they coil with pine needles, bulrushes and palmetto fronds used to make the baskets. Thankfully the true center of sweetgrass basket weaving is flourishing in Mount Pleasant, a sea island near the Cooper River.”

“It sounds as if your mother has found her niche,” Chandra said in a soft voice, filled with a mysterious longing.

“If not her niche, then her passion. Last year she met a man who teaches historical architecture and sits on the Charleston Historic Preservation and Community Planning board. I’ve never known my mother to laugh so much as when she’s with him. She moved in with him at the beginning of the year.”

“Good for her.”

A wide grin creased Preston’s face. “If you’re talking about a romance novel, then Rose Tucker is truly a heroine.”

“Is she going to marry her hero?”

“I don’t know. I think she’s still a little skittish about
marriage, because she hasn’t sold her condo. They divide their time living at his house during the week, and come into the city to stay at her condo on the weekend. It doesn’t bother me or Yolanda if they never marry, as long as they’re happy.”

“Where does your sister live?” Chandra knew she was asking Preston a lot of questions, but she’d come to appreciate the sound of his sonorous baritone voice.

Settling back against the leather seat, she closed her eyes when he talked about his older sister, his brother-in-law and two sets of identical twin nephews. Again, she wondered why he hadn’t married and fathered children when he told of the outings with his nephews. She opened her eyes when he patted her knee.

“Tell me about your family so I know what to expect.”

Chandra recognized landmarks that indicated they were only blocks from her sister’s house. “Too late. We’re almost there.”

Preston groaned aloud when the voice coming from the GPS directed him to turn right at the next street. He’d wanted Chandra to brief him as to her relatives. “Did you tell your folks you were bringing a guest?”

“Nope.”

Decelerating, he maneuvered into a parking space across the street from a three-story Colonial. “Did they expect you to bring a guest?”

Chandra unbuckled her seat belt. “If you’re asking whether I normally attend family functions with a man, then the answer is no. It’s been more than three years since I’ve had a serious boyfriend.”

Smiling, Preston rested his right arm over the back of her seat. “So, I’m your boyfriend?”

She flashed an attractive moue. “No, P.J., you’re a friend.”

He leaned closer. “Do you think I’ll ever be your boyfriend?”

Chandra leaned closer until she was inhaling the moist warmth of Preston’s breath. “You can if…”

“If what?” he whispered.

“You can if I can trust you.”

Preston froze. “What’s with you and the trust thing?”

“It’s very important to me, Preston. Without trust there can be no boyfriend, girlfriend, no relationship.”

He smiled. “Are you amenable to something that goes beyond platonic?”

Chandra blinked. “I am, but only—”

“If you can trust me,” he said, completing her sentence.

“Yes.”

Preston angled his head, pressing his mouth to Chandra’s, reveling in the velvety warmth of her parted lips. It had been years since he’d sat in a car kissing a woman but there was something about Chandra Eaton that made him feel like an adolescent boy. First it was the unexpected erection after reading her erotic dreams and now it was having her close.

“You have my solemn vow that I will never give you cause to mistrust me.”

Chandra quivered at the gentle tenderness of the kiss, and in that instant she wanted to trust Preston not because she wanted to but needed to. Every man she’d met after Laurence had become a victim of her acerbic tongue and negative attitude whenever they’d expressed an interest in her.

She’d loved Laurence, expecting to spend the rest
of her life with him, but when he caved under pressure from his family, her faith in the opposite sex was shattered—almost beyond repair. However, Preston Tucker was offering a second chance. She didn’t expect marriage, not because he was a confirmed bachelor, but because it didn’t figure into her short-term plans.

Chandra wanted to secure a teaching position, settle into her new residence, and dating Preston would become an added bonus. “I believe you,” she whispered, succumbing to the forceful, drugging possession of his lips. It was with supreme reluctance that she ended the kiss. “Let’s stop before one of the kids see us. I don’t want to send my nieces the wrong message, that it’s okay to make out in a car.”

Preston’s lids lowered, he successfully concealing his innermost feelings from the woman he wanted to make love to with a need that bordered on desperation. He knew it was her beauty, poise, intelligence and sensuality that fueled his obsession.

“The curtain just came down on the first act.”

Chandra smiled up at him through her lashes. “When do we begin act two?”

“Tonight.”

T
onight
. The single word reverberated in Chandra’s head as she led the way toward the rear of the house where her sister lived with her husband and their nieces. The sound of voices raised in laughter greeted her and Preston when they walked into an expansive patio overlooking an inground pool. Her parents were holding court with their granddaughters and grandson, Myles and Zabrina lay together on a webbed lounger by the pool and Griffin stood at the stove in the outdoor kitchen with an arm around Belinda’s waist. A long rectangular table with seating for twelve and a smaller table with half that amount were set up under a white tent.

Chandra stopped short, causing Preston to plow into her back; she saw someone she hadn’t expected to see. Sitting under an umbrella with Denise was Xavier Eaton. The last time she’d seen her cousin was days before he was to begin his tour of duty in Afghanistan.

“I’ll introduce you to everyone after I talk to someone,” she whispered to Preston.

Arms outstretched and grinning from ear to ear, she walked into Xavier’s embrace when he stood up. She found herself crushed against a rock-hard chest. “Welcome home, Captain Eaton.”

“It’s now Major Eaton. I’d pick you up, but I have a bum leg.”

Pulling back, Chandra saw that he was supporting himself with a cane. She hadn’t realized her cousin, dressed in civilian clothes and looking more like a male model than a professional soldier, had sustained an injury. She’d lost count of the number of women who’d asked her to introduce them to Xavier. He was always polite to them, while smoothly rejecting further advances. He had also earned the reputation of remaining friends with his former girlfriends.

What they didn’t know was that he had a mistress. Xavier Phillip Eaton ate, breathed and slept military. He’d attended military prep school, graduated and then enrolled at The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina. He continued his military education when he was accepted into the Marine Corps War College. After 9/11 he was deployed to Iraq. He completed one tour of duty before he was sent to Afghanistan.

“Is it serious?”

“It will heal.”

“That’s not what I asked, Xavier.”

Xavier leaned in closer. “If you’re asking if I’m going to be a cripple, then the answer is no.”

Narrowing her gaze, Chandra decided to drop the subject. Tiptoeing, she kissed his smooth cheek. “We’ll talk later.” Shifting slightly, Chandra beckoned Preston closer, reaching for his hand as he approached. “Preston,
I’d like for you to meet my cousin, Xavier Eaton. Xavier, Preston Tucker.”

Xavier offered his hand. “Why does your name sound so familiar?”

Denise Eaton stood up, looping her arm around her brother’s waist. “That’s because he’s Preston Tucker, the playwright.”

Xavier pumped Preston’s hand vigorously. “I’m honored to meet you.” He gave him a rough embrace, while slapping him on the back with his free hand.

Chandra caught Denise’s look of expectation. “Preston, this is Xavier’s sister, Denise.”

Denise managed to disentangle herself from her brother, shyly extending her hand. Her large dark eyes shimmered like polished jet, while flyaway black curls took on a life of their own whenever she moved her head. A shaft of sunlight fell across her heart-shaped face, highlighting the yellow-orange undertones in her flawless brown face. She was a softer, prettier, feminine version of Xavier.

“Mr. Tucker. I’ve seen and read every play you’ve written.”

Preston took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Please, no Mr. Tucker. Call me Preston.”

Chandra didn’t know how, but she knew Preston was uncomfortable with his celebrity status. She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Now I’ll introduce you to my sister and brother-in-law.”

Preston fell in step with Chandra, feeling the heat of the eyes that followed him as he walked across the patio. “Is Griffin Rice your brother-in-law?”

Chandra stopped suddenly, staring at Preston as if he were a stranger. She’d wanted it to be a surprise, but
apparently he’d turned the tables. “Yes, Griffin
is
my brother-in-law.”

Preston dipped his head, brushing a kiss on her mouth. “Good looking out, beautiful.” Amid a chorus of coughs and cleared throats his head popped up as a smile softened the angles in his face. “Good afternoon.”

Griffin Rice came forward, hand outstretched. Today he wore a white T-shirt, jeans and running shoes. He looked nothing like the man who had graced the cover of
GQ
. As the attorney for some of sports biggest superstars, he had become a superstar in his own right whenever he escorted models and actresses to social and sporting events. His gorgeous face and distinctive cleft chin made him a magnet for women everywhere. When the news got out that he’d married Belinda Eaton the gossip columnists scrambled to uncover everything about the woman who’d snared one of the country’s most eligible bachelors.

“P. J. Tucker. You old dog! When did you hook up with my sister-in-law?”

Preston and Chandra shared a smile. “We got together after she got back from Belize.” He handed Griffin the colorful shopping bags. “These are for Layla and Sabrina.”

“How do you know Preston?” Chandra asked Griffin.

“We worked together on a fundraiser a few years back. Your boyfriend put the squeeze on some of his well-heeled friends to reach our goal to set up an after-school sports program for some kids in North Philly.”

Preston and Griffin shook hands. “I had to do everything short of bringing out a rubber hose to make them dig deep for a good cause. I know some of the guys
drop at least ten thousand in a weekend entertaining Vegas showgirls.”

Belinda Rice came over to join them, and Chandra made the introductions. Her sister looked wonderful. Her bare face radiated good health. She and Chandra claimed the same eyes and thick dark hair. She then introduced Preston to her parents, nieces, Myles and Zabrina. It was Myles’s turn when he introduced her to her nephew for the first time.

It was apparent married life agreed with her brother. His face was fuller than it’d been in years, and the nervous energy that was always so apparent was missing. She’d missed his wedding, but sent a sculpture of a Mayan deity she’d purchased from a local Belizean artisan.

Her anger with Zabrina Mixon for breaking up with Myles two weeks before their wedding had jeopardized her relationship with her brother because he refused to blame Zabrina. What no one knew at the time was that Zabrina was pressured into breaking up with Myles and that she was pregnant with his son.

Myles dropped a proprietary arm around his son’s shoulders. “Adam, this lady is your Aunt Chandra. She’s been away teaching in Central America. Chandra, this is Adam.”

She smiled at the tall, lanky boy who’d inherited his mother’s hair and eyes. “Will it be okay if I hug you?” At ten, she wasn’t certain whether boys were open to women hugging them. Her question was answered when he stepped forward and put his arms around her waist.

“It’s nice meeting you,” he said softly.

Chandra squeezed him gently, then lowered her arms. “I’ve waited a long time for a nephew. You’re perfect.”
Reaching into her tote, she pulled out an envelope with his name written on the front. “I missed your birthday, so this is a little late. Your dad told me you like to draw, so what’s in that envelope should help you buy some art supplies. Or, you can put it into a college fund.”

Turning to Zabrina, she extended her arms and wasn’t disappointed when the attractive woman with the golden skin, black wavy hair and hazel eyes moved into the circle of her embrace. “Congratulations, Brina. It’s a little late, but I want to welcome you into the family.”

Zabrina Eaton kissed Chandra’s cheek. “Thank you. It’s been a long time coming, but in the end everything worked out. Once we finish renovating and decorating the house, Myles and I would love to have you come and spend some time with us.”

“Trust me, I will.”

Her brother had called to tell her that not only was he marrying Zabrina and that he had a ten-year-old son, but he’d bought a house in a Pittsburgh suburb with enough room to have guests stay for an extended period of time. Adam had started classes at a new private school, while Zabrina managed to secure a position in a nearby public school. His own teaching schedule at Duquesne University School of Law had increased, but he’d managed to balance his professional and personal life, giving each equal attention.

“We’ll talk later,” she said to Zabrina, repeating what she’d told Denise. Chandra wanted to congratulate her nieces and give them their birthday gifts.

Their heads close together, the girls sat on a webbed lounge chair unwrapping Preston’s gifts. Both screamed hysterically when they realized he’d given each of them an iPod touch. They scrambled off the chair and did the happy dance.

Layla whirled like a dervish, her braided hair whipping around her face. “It can hold up to seven thousand songs!”

“We can listen to music and watch movies on it!” Sabrina shrieked excitedly. She executed a dance step where she dropped, popped and locked it.

All of the Eatons exchanged amused glances. Sabrina, the more reserved of the two, had shocked everyone with her effusive enthusiasm.

“Very nice,” Chandra whispered to Preston. “How am I going to top that?”

She’d just encountered the same problem as Belinda whenever Griffin gave their nieces and goddaughters more expensive gifts than hers. The unspoken competition continued until they’d become their legal guardians. Becoming parents was very different from being aunt and uncle, and they conferred with each other on every phase of child rearing.

“I’m not competing with you, Chandra,” Preston said softly. “When you told me your nieces were turning thirteen, I asked my sister what they would like. I took a chance when I bought the iPod because they could’ve already had one. And, if they had, then they could take them back to the store and either get a full refund or exchange them for something else. By the way, what did you get them?”

“Electronic readers.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, P.J., I’m not kidding. Why?”

“I want one of those.”

“Maybe I’ll get you one for your birthday.”

Preston shook his head. “It passed.”

“When was your birthday?”

“March seventeenth. Don’t say it. My mother was going to name me Patrick, but changed her mind.”

“Maybe I’ll get you one for Christmas,” Chandra said.

“That’ll work. When’s your birthday?”

“April twenty-second.”

“It’s too late to get you something for your birthday, so Christmas will have to do. What do you want for Christmas?”

“Nothing, Preston.”

“You’re kidding.”

Chandra gave him a warm smile. “No, I’m not. I have everything I could ever want.”

The minute the admission was out of her mouth she knew she hadn’t told the truth. If life could be rewound like a video, then she would’ve prevented her sister and brother-in-law from getting into their car the day a drunk driver killed them in a head-on collision. But, because life moved forward, not backward, she was grateful that she had her parents, brother, sister and extended family.

Sabrina and Layla screamed again when they opened Chandra’s envelope to find gift cards for e-readers and books. Their celebration of becoming teenagers set the tone for an afternoon of casual frivolity. By the time their paternal grandparents, Lucas and Gloria Rice, arrived it was time to sit down and eat. The adults sat at the long table, while Adam, Layla and Sabrina sat at the smaller table. Chandra found herself flanked by Denise and Zabrina. Gloria Rice brought a platter of her celebrated Dungeness crab pot stickers for appetizers, and Roberta Eaton her homemade coconut cake for dessert.

Belinda and Griffin had prepared a smorgasbord of
grilled meat and accompanying sides. There were the ubiquitous spareribs, chicken, pulled pork, roasted corn, fried catfish and hush puppies, carrot slaw, slow-smoked brisket, potato salad and baked beans.

Denise pressed her shoulder to her cousin’s. “I didn’t expect you to come with
him,
” she said sotto voce.

Chandra peered through her lashes at Preston. He sat opposite her with Xavier on his left and Roberta Eaton on his right. “I asked him to come along because he wants to discuss business with Griffin.”

Denise speared a portion of carrot slaw. “So, you two are not involved.”

Cutting into a slice of smoked barbecue brisket, Chandra popped a piece into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before she deigned to answer Denise’s question. “We’re not involved the way you think.”

“And why not?” Denise’s sultry voice had dropped an octave.

“Firstly, I just met him. And, secondly, I think getting involved would make working together more difficult. I need to remain objective when it comes to a professional relationship.”

“Is he paying you?”

“No.”

“Then it’s not professional, Chandra,” Denise argued quietly. “And what’s up with the kiss? You guys hardly looked professional with your lips locked together.”

Chandra picked up her wineglass and took a swallow. She didn’t want to argue with her cousin, especially not in front of others. Although two years younger, Denise had always wanted to tell Chandra what she should or shouldn’t do. Rather than go on and on about an issue where they’d never agree, she’d developed the practice of tuning her out.

“If you’re interested in Preston, then go for it, Denise.” She knew she’d shocked the director of a child care center when her mouth opened, but nothing came out except the sound of her breathing.

“He doesn’t want me,” Denise said between clenched teeth. “Don’t look now, but he’s not looking but lusting at you, Chandra. I’ve been without a man longer than you, so if you get the opportunity to sleep with someone you like, then take it.”

Chandra went completely still. “Aren’t you seeing Trey Chambers?”

“No!” Everyone at the table turned to stare at Denise, who managed to look embarrassed at her outburst. “I’m sorry about that.” She pressed her shoulder to Chandra’s. “Bite your tongue, cousin. You know how I feel about Trey. If I wasn’t afraid of going to prison for the rest of my life, I’d murder the lying bastard.”