The Choir Director (19 page)

I followed behind him to the parking lot. Surprisingly, he opened the car door for me, though he didn’t wait for me to get in. He simply walked over to the driver’s side, got in, put on his seat belt, and started the engine. Not wanting to be left behind, I climbed into the truck and closed the door. He wouldn’t look at me, and it was driving me crazy.

“You going home?” Aaron asked, sounding more cold than concerned.

“Uh-huh.”
Where else would I be going?

Like he was reading my mind, he said, “I didn’t know if you were going back to the church to get your car or what.”

I’d forgotten about that. “No, I’ll worry about that later. You can take me home. You remember how to get there?”

“How could I forget?” He rolled his eyes as we pulled out of the parking lot.

After ten minutes of silence between us, I tried to ease the tension, though I failed miserably.

“So, Aaron, what’s this I hear about you and Porsche Moore?”

He gave me such a hard look you would have thought I just told him he had no talent for singing.

“First of all, it’s none of your business what I do in my private life. Second of all, I can’t believe you’re talking about my dating habits at a time like this.”

That was enough to shut me up. Silence returned to the car.

“Am I dropping you off here, or should I drive up a couple of blocks and let you out?” he asked when we approached my block.

Oh, so he’s still hung up on that. Damn, he sure can hold a grudge!

No matter how angry he was, I still couldn’t help myself. Even his slick-ass tongue turned me on. I decided not to sass him
back, because once things calmed down with all this drama at the church, I planned on having that slick tongue all over me.

“You can pull into the driveway if you don’t mind.”

When he parked his car, I hoped he might show some chivalry and walk around to let me out. No such luck. He just sat there silently. Our failed date really was a thorn in this man’s side, but enough was enough.

“Look, Aaron, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked—”

“Never mind,” he snapped.

“But I really want to—”

“You have a good night, now, Trustee Wilcox.”

He wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. I decided it was time to get right to the heart of the matter.

“Do you hate me?”

Finally, he turned to look at me. “Hate you? Nope. I was pissed off for a while, but
hate
is a strong word. I don’t hate anyone.”

Okay, so he didn’t hate me, but I still had to break down that wall he’d built up after our first date. Time to lay all my cards on the table. “Look, Aaron, I know you’re upset with me. I know it probably bruised your male ego or something, thinking that I kicked you to the curb for another man. But here’s the truth: I’m not interested in anyone but you.”

“Tell that to Mr. Range Rover,” he said with a sneer.

My breath caught in my throat for a painful second, but I forged ahead. “I can’t.” I paused momentarily to try to slow my racing heart. “Look, I don’t know if it matters to you, but I really like you, Aaron. You’re the only man I have a romantic interest in, and it’s killing me that you haven’t talked to me.”

I could not believe I’d just said that. It was so unlike me to admit these kinds of feelings for any man, because it always puts a woman at a disadvantage. But I truly liked this guy enough to take that risk.

Still feeling a little shell-shocked, I wasn’t able to look him in the eye. I stared straight ahead as I waited for his response—which never came. I’d just put everything out there on the line and for what? A big, fat nothing.

If he couldn’t appreciate what I was offering him, then fuck
it! I was through chasing his ass around. I reached for the handle to open the door and get the hell away from this guy.

“I really like you too.”

He was practically whispering when he said it, but it was loud enough for me to hear, and his words stopped me in my tracks.

I turned to face him. “You do?”

“Hell yeah! Why you think I’m tripping like this?” He suddenly looked as relieved as I felt.

“Then why didn’t you say something? Why’d you walk around avoiding me and not taking my calls? That’s not how you treat somebody you like.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why didn’t you just tell me the real about you and ol’ boy?”

I sighed, relaxing my shoulders. “Because my business is my business. I don’t tell everybody everything in the beginning. I mean, it was just all too much. And now with this … what happened at the church today … you don’t know the half of it. It’s a long story, and it’s really complicated.”

He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got time. Start talking.”

“Aaron, you’ve got to understand something about me. I’m an independent woman who does what she wants, when she wants to. Shoot, you’re lucky you got me to admit how bad I’ve been sweating you ever since that first date. But that’s all you’re going to get right now. I’m not going to explain myself to you until I’m good and ready. Take it or leave it.” In spite of suddenly regaining my backbone, I was seconds away from begging him to take it.

I practically shrieked with relief when he nodded and said, “Okay, Simone. I’ll give you time, but that goes both ways. Don’t expect a commitment if you can’t give one.”

“What are you trying to say? If we start fooling around, you’re going to see other people?” I wanted to laugh. Once he got some of this, he wasn’t going to want to see anyone, guaranteed.

“Do you have a problem with that? I like to be up front.”

I both hated and loved his arrogant authority. He was a take-charge kind of man, same as James used to be.

“No, I don’t have a problem with it. I know how good this is. Maybe you need to come inside and find out for yourself.”

“Be careful what you ask for, because I’m pretty damn good myself.”

Now that the ice had finally been broken, I knew it was only a matter of time before we ignited a fire between us.

Within minutes, Aaron had thrown his truck into park and was pressed up against me, placing kisses on the back of my neck as we tripped into my house. I could barely close and lock the door behind us.

“Hold on for a second.” I put my hands up against his chest. I could feel his heart beating through his shirt. “Let me go get cleaned up. I’ve been sitting up in that hospital all afternoon.”

“Unh-uh. That might spoil the mood,” Aaron said as he placed kisses all around my neck.

“Okay.” Once again, I tried to push him off of me, but he was giving me these sweet, succulent kisses that I couldn’t get enough of. “How about you shower with me?”

“That’ll work,” he said, scooping me up in his arms. “Where’s the shower?”

I pointed toward the staircase as I locked my lips on his and let my tongue loose in his mouth. He stumbled and bumped his way up the stairs, somehow managing to carry me all the way.

In the bathroom, he eased me down and I hit the light switch and then fumbled over to the shower, all without breaking our kiss. I turned on the water with one hand while I cupped his package in the other. It wasn’t an easy feat, but I was feeling rather inspired.

Aaron stopped long enough to take off his shoes. When he went for his shirt, I stopped him.

“Unh-uh, baby, you’re going to take all the fun out of it.”

Taking off my stilettos, I pulled him into the shower, letting the water drench us both. I’d regret getting my hair wet later, but right now, I was on a mission. We undressed each other in the shower, peeling off wet clothing as if we were peeling bananas. Oh, and speaking of bananas, he was packing an extra-large plantain!

When we were finally naked, he kissed my lips and then went exploring. He kissed my chin and then trailed down to my breasts, sucking them with an expertise I’d never experienced before. Then, to my surprise, he slid his hands between my legs and
lifted me up in the air until my kitty cat was right in front of his face. He was a lot stronger than I would have imagined, but I still wasn’t taking any chances. I held on to the shower head as his face eased between my legs.

Now, I’ve had more than my share of men go down on me, but Mr. Aaron Mackie was by far the best. The way he worked his snakelike tongue had me coming so hard that I literally had to push him away because I couldn’t take anymore—though I planned to make sure he would be doing that little trick over and over and over again.

He might have played harder to get than most men did with me, but Aaron Mackie was definitely worth the wait.

I pulled into the church parking lot energized and ready for work after spending the past two days at Simone’s place. I was glad to get up and go to work that morning. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked Simone, but the woman was a beast in the bedroom. I’d never met someone with such a ravenous sexual appetite in my entire life. All I had to do was look at her, and she was stripping off her clothes, kissing and pawing on me like she was in heat. Hey, I was flattered like hell, but she didn’t give a brother a minute’s rest. I was so sexually drained that it was actually nice to get away from her for a spell.

As I pulled up to the church, I saw Bishop Wilson and Deacon Frye talking in the parking lot. I rolled down my window to greet them. “Good morning, gentlemen. How’re you doing?”

“Doing okay,” the bishop replied warmly, although he didn’t look so happy. Finding a dead man in your church parking lot could do that to you, I guess. “How about you? That was a great performance you put on Sunday. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but with everything going on …” His words trailed off in sadness.

Deacon Frye quickly made an attempt to pick up the mood. “Sure was a nice performance.” He smiled, but his eyes were not on me. Neither were the bishop’s, for that matter. Both of them were focused on the far corner of the parking lot. I assumed that was where the body had been found.

My eyes followed theirs, and sure enough, I saw a tow truck parked over there. The driver was out of the truck, pulling down some yellow crime scene tape that had blocked the area. He then loaded a vehicle onto the flatbed.

“So, what exactly happened here Sunday? Did they find out who murdered Deacon Smith?” I questioned.

“It wasn’t murder. It was a suicide,” Deacon Frye corrected as he finally turned his attention to me. “Did you meet Deacon Smith?”

“Yeah, I met him. That’s the dude who was trying to get me fired before I even started working for First Jamaica Ministries. Wow, he killed himself?” I wondered if he had a family. I mean, I disliked the guy because of what he tried to do to me and the bishop, but that didn’t mean I wished him dead.

“Don’t judge him too hard,” Bishop said diplomatically. “He was a very troubled man.”

“Yeah, a very troubled man with a whole lot of issues,” Deacon Frye added. “Did you know—”

The bishop gave Deacon Frye a stern look as he interrupted him. “Yes, issues that we’d rather not get into at this time.”

“Oh, yes, of course. The bishop’s right.” Deacon Frye shook his head remorsefully.

We all watched as the driver got back into the police tow truck and started it up. As he drove through the parking lot and passed us, I got a look at the SUV’s driver’s side window. It was splattered with dried blood—lots of it. Poor guy must have shot himself in the head. Frye wasn’t lying; he must have really been a troubled man to go that route.

The tow truck passed and we all watched it exit the lot. That’s when I got a glimpse of the back of the SUV, and suddenly I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I’d seen that car before. It was a Range Rover, the same kind I’d seen in Simone’s driveway that night. Jesus Christ, was her other dude Deacon Smith?

I pointed at the Range Rover. “Is that Deacon Smith’s car?”

“Uh-huh, a little flashy for a deacon with those rims, but he sure loved that truck,” the bishop replied.

“It almost seems fitting that he died in it,” Deacon Frye added.

The flashy rims confirmed my suspicion. This had to be the same car that I’d seen parked in Simone’s driveway.

“Will you gentlemen excuse me?” I said hastily, suddenly feeling a need to be alone to get my head together. “I’m gonna go
find me a place to park so I can get to work. We’ve got choir practice tonight, and I have to add about three or four new songs for our competition up in Connecticut in two weeks.”

“We’ll see you inside, son,” the bishop said.

I found a parking space, but I didn’t get out right away. I couldn’t get my mind around the fact that Deacon Smith had been the one in Simone’s driveway that night. Were they having an affair? Was that why she was so paranoid? I guess if I was the chairwoman of the board of trustees and was having an affair with the married chairman of the deacons’ board, I’d want to keep things on the low too.

But that wasn’t what really bothered me. What bothered me was that he was dead now, and nobody wanted to talk about it—especially not Simone. No wonder she kept fainting after she burst into the church. She’d just found the body of her ex-lover—at least I hoped he was an ex—and from the looks of the car, his brains were half blown out.

Was Simone the reason he killed himself? Maybe they’d had it out that night. Maybe she’d kicked him to the curb for me and he couldn’t take it. I had to admit, if Simone had put it on him like she’d put it on me, living without her was probably something he couldn’t face. Especially for an old guy like him, who probably wasn’t getting much at home.

I thought about calling Simone, then changed my mind. She probably wouldn’t tell me the truth anyway. But there was one person who just might. I stepped out of my car to head inside but didn’t get far before I heard the bishop calling my name.

“Mackie?”

I looked up, and suddenly all thoughts of Simone disappeared from my mind. I had much bigger things to worry about when I saw the man who was now standing with the bishop.

What the fuck is he doing here?
I slowed my pace as I walked toward them. Deacon Frye, fortunately, had gone back into the church. The “he” I was referring to was a short, sloppy, greaseball-looking white man by the name of Andrew Gotti. To say I hated this guy was an understatement.