The Brute & The Blogger (8 page)

“E
bony, are you awake?”

She moaned and rolled over to face him.  Slightly sore from their lovemaking, she was groggy from the overdose of passion he had given her last night. She only grumbled as he reached for her again.

“I am sorry Baby, but I cannot seem to get enough of you,” he told her as he held her in the dim light of the morning sun which was creeping over the horizon.  He took her again, gently, with ease and care as he brought her a fourth climax. Somewhere during the night, they managed to make it to the tub, then back to the bed, a shower, and now faced the day with either heading downstairs for breakfast, or sleeping in. They opted instead to sleep in.

It was a beautiful two days they stayed at the Darling. The love fest was in full swing during the sharing of thoughts, ideas, and potentiality of what may come next for them.  In Tino’s mind, he wanted her in his future, but first he had to deal with his past.

He asked her, “With everything that has occurred between us, how would your parents react to you walking through the door with me for Sunday dinner?”

“Probably about the same as yours,” she said, leaving it open ended. She didn’t miss the cue of what he was trying to ask but was afraid to say. “What are you holding back that you need me to know about you and your family Tino?”

In truth, she was expecting something nefarious or his father was the leader of a white supremacy group, but there was a sadness in his eyes when he told her, “I am adopted.”

Ebony’s mind immediately went to his sister.
Well, that explains that
. “Okay.  There are lots of adopted people Tino, you are not the first.”

“I know, but I have some memories you know.  I was almost four when she gave me to the Boehner’s,” his voice was sad.  “I remember having a brother.”

He gazed out at the ocean.  This afternoon they were enjoying the patio in their room, having a light lunch instead of going out.  “I remember a brother; but it was me she gave away.  I mean actually, packed me up and dropped me off on the Boehner’s doorstep like I was a lost puppy.”

Ebony got up from her recliner and climbed into the lounger with him, her arms around him, trying to bring him comfort as he asked, “Why did she keep him and not me?”

Her mind pinged with responses, but she tried to find the words to infuse him to take some steps versus wallowing in self-doubt and recrimination over something he had no control over. “Sometimes people do what they think is best for the child.  It is hard to know what was going through your mother’s mind at the time.”

She stroked the side of his face, “Are you adoptive parents good to you?”

“Yes, I had a wonderful childhood,” he told her.

“And maybe that is what she wanted for you.  That life, she could not give you.  She let you go to give you a chance.  And look what you have accomplished,” she told him.

It made him feel better, but in his heart there was still a gaping hole.  “I need to know Ebony.  I need to know who my people are.  I can’t have our children growing up dating their cousins.”

She did not react to his statement of
our children
. Truth be told, she was still trying to figure out how to bring him to Sunday dinner. Grandpa Sherman was going to be a handful. It would be even worse when Grandma Pearl finds out he was the one who put her out of her home. And her Daddy... she started praying on the spot.

When they loaded up and headed back to Raleigh, she was still praying, but Ebony Miller always had a plan. She just hoped this one didn’t bite her in the ass.

T
he following Monday morning she started her new job. On Tuesday morning she understood that her haste had landed her in a job that only required partial use of her brain.  She wrote two blog posts for the main page, installed Hootsuite on her computer, and tied it to a quote site, which sent out three tweets per day on giving, community and the importance of fellowship.  She combed through the photo library and collected all of the images and created an Instagram account for the local nonprofit and tied it to the corporate partner.  By noon the Twitter followers had doubled and she had 100 followers on Instagram.  At one pm she wanted to shoot herself.

Instead of complaining over being underwhelmed, she started doing some research on why women would give up one child and keep another. The reasons seemed logical to her, but to a child who was given away, maybe not so much. One of the reasons she found to be most compelling was if the children had different fathers, and the father of the second child was unaccepting of the first. It reminded her of a lion pride, only the lion taking over would often kill the cubs.  She shuddered.

She mentioned these ideas to Tino over dinner.  Ebony also asked the question, “Do your parents know your mother?”

It was as if the lights from heaven shined down on him, “I have never asked.  I never wanted to because I didn’t want them to feel as if I didn’t appreciate what they have done for me.”

“I mean you are thirty now, and under their direction, you have made something of yourself. I’m sure if phrased the right way, you may be able to find out some answers.”

Tino liked her idea. He liked it so much, he invited her dinner at his place.  She found out upon arrival that he lived with his parents, which was a complete shock. He was quick to correct her again.

“No, my parents live with me.  Ironically, the neighborhood they lived in was riddled with drugs, meth houses, and unsavory elements, so I moved them in when I bought this house.  I got this one for a steal.”  He explained that he was also able to sneak in a cook and a housekeeper so his mother didn’t have to do as much.

“They are older now and so there is someone home with them to do the cooking.  They still get to see me somewhat every day, and the house is big enough, my sister’s kids to run around like mini hooligans.”
Your sister has kids with that body?

The second shock came when she found out his parents knew exactly who she was. “Ah, this is the blogger,” Mary Boehner said as she hugged her close.

Tom Boehner, a big burly man, and retired construction worker, also enclosed her in his giant arms and nearly squeezed the life out of her. “It’s nice to finally meet you after five years of torching our business.”

This was one thing that Ebony was not uncertain of, the perfect segue.  “I am so sorry you feel that way, but since I am closing up the final pieces of the interviews, I wanted to get to know a little more about his family.”

Ebony mentioned his sister.

Mary responded, “Yes, she was our second blessing.  We conceived her two years after we got Tino and moved from Atlanta to Raleigh.”

“I was born in Atlanta?” He asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes, Jacqueline had you and another boy, I think she also has a girl as well,” Mary said matter of fact.  Tom bobbed his head in agreement.

Tino was floored.  “You know my mother?”

Tom got a beer from the fridge, “You do too.”

Ebony remained quiet as she watched it all unfold before her eyes.  Tino seemed to be holding in a big gust of wind that was threatening to overtake him. “I have met my birth mother?”

Mary seemed to be surprised by his amazement, “yes, and your brother as well.  When was the last time we saw them Tom?”

“About five years ago...I would say.  Oh, yeah, she was at your graduation, you even have a picture with her,” his dad said as he went to the étagère and removed the photo album, flipping through pages. “Ah, here you all are,” he told him and handing the photo to Tino.

The color drained from his face. “Cousin Jackie is my mother?”

“Yes, and Tony is your brother.  Again, I don’t remember what the girl’s name is...” Mary said as she poured herself another lemonade.

It befuddled Ebony to no end that his parents discussed it as if it were nothing more than last week’s news.  Tino was fuming, “And no one ever thought to tell me?”

Mary patted his arm, “We figured when you wanted to know, you would ask.  You asked, so we told you.” She reminded Ebony of the little old lady on Ace Ventura who wanted to hurt Dan Marino.

“Mom, this is nuts.  What...why...I don’t understand?”

“Those are the questions and details you will have to ask and discuss with Jaqueline.  She has been waiting for many years for the phone call from you.  Five years ago when you seemed to care little about her or Tony, is when she stopped checking on you,” Tom told him.

Ebony rose from the table and wrapped her arms around him. This was a different kind of pain and realization that would take him a minute to get through.  But Mary wasn’t done.  She went to her purse and pulled out a mini notebook.

“I have been saving her number,” she handed him the slip of paper.

Tino stared at the paper with wonderment.  He showed it to Ebony who still had her arms around him.  Without thinking, he leaned up and kissed her on the lips. He looked up to see the shock on his parent’s face at him kissing Ebony. “Well, you two seem to like surprises, I have one for you.  Ebony and I are dating.”

I
t was nearly two months before Tino went back to the scrap of paper his mother, Mary, had given him with Jacqueline’s phone number on it, and still he had not called.  After several discussions with Ebony, he and she both agreed that some dogs really needed to sleep on their own porch; the moment you messed with it, was when you found yourself being bitten.  He didn’t want to be bitten or get a gut full of rabies shots. What he did want was to get to know his brother.

On a late April afternoon, after some careful research, he picked up the phone and called his brother Tony Peay, whom he found out had a daughter. He ended the call with a smile as he looked at his beautiful Ebony sitting on the couch, tapping away at her laptop. “What are you writing there, lovely lady?”

Her eyebrow shot up as a coy smile came to her lips, “I was working on a new piece of poetry.”

That was all Tino Boehner needed to hear as he lifted her in his arms and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her the bed. Some of his brutish ways he had changed, others, especially the ones his little blogger liked, he held tight to like his favorite hammer. And right now, he had some nailing to do.

-Fin-

This story originally featured in Call Me Valentino.

This is the prequel to Menu for Loving

––––––––

About the Author

––––––––

Olivia Gaines is the author of numerous bestselling novellas and books, including
T
wo Nights in Vegas
,
A Few More Nights
, and has had several number one best sellers with
The Blakemore Files
including
Being Mrs. Blakemore
and
Shopping with Mrs. Blakemore
.

She lives in Augusta, GA, with her husband, son and snotty cat, Katness Evermean.

Connect with Olivia on her Facebook page at http://on.fb.me/1eorEAr or her website at
http://oliviagaines.com
.

Olivia Gaines is the author of numerous best selling novellas and books including Two Nights in Vegas, A Few More Nights, and have had several number one best sellers with The Blakemore Files including Being Mrs. Blakemore and Shopping with Mrs. Blakemore.

She lives in Augusta, GA with her husband, son and snotty cat, Katness Evermean.

Connect with Olivia on her FB page at http://on.fb.me/1eorEAr or her website at http://oliviagaines.com

The Davonshire Series
Courting Guinevere
Loving Words
Vanity's Pleasure

The Blakemore Files
Being Mrs. Blakemore
Shopping with Mrs. Blakemore
Dancing with Mr. Blakemore
Cruising with the Blakemores (2015)

The Sizzling Nights Series
Two Nights in Vegas
A Few More Nights
A Few Nights with Vincent (2015)

The Slivers of Love Series
The Cost to Play
Thursdays in Savannah
Menu for Loving (2015)