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Authors: LaConnie Taylor-Jones

When a Man Loves a Woman (Indigo) (11 page)

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With her index finger, Caitlyn gently lifted Vic’s head up. “Do you remember what you told me one day shortly after I met Marcel?”

Vic wiped her face with a tissue. “No, what’d I say?”

“And I quote, ‘Stop trying to analyze everything and figure out where all the pieces will fit. Sometimes you have to step out on nothing but faith. At some point, you’ve got to learn how to trust again. Understand what I’m saying?’ End quote.”

Vic chuckled. “Did I say that?”

Caitlyn nodded. “Verbatim. I was just like you, remember? I was scared to death to admit my feelings for Marcel because of what I’d gone through with Cole, believing that Marcel would end up doing the same thing.”

Vic sucked in a long breath and slowly released it. She felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. All her life, she’d never been one to share her pain with others, but she knew she needed to disclose her hurt to someone who’d been through the same experience. It was a first step in her healing process. She glanced over at the woman who was the sister she’d never had and smiled. Caitlyn hadn’t condemned her for the way she felt nor had she denounced Ron for who he was. She’d done exactly what a friend was supposed to do—be there in the time of need. Her eyes drifted to the carton of ice cream. She kicked off her sandals and placed her feet atop the table. “Well…”

Caitlyn giggled and replicated Vic’s actions as they placed spoonfuls of their favorite treat inside their mouths.

“Stop. You’re eating all the marshmallows again,” Caitlyn fussed.

“I’m not. Hush and eat.” Vic offered a huge grin. “Love you, sweetie.”

Caitlyn grinned back. “Love you, too.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, after Vic left Caitlyn’s estate, she drove to her parents’ home, arriving shortly after three.

Louise sat at the kitchen table with Vic and pushed aside a cup of herbal tea. “Talk to your mama, baby, and tell me what’s wrong. You’re mine, and I know when something’s bothering you.”

Vic shook her head. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Louise chuckled and nodded at the table. “Since you were a little girl, any time something made you upset, you’d do just what you’re doing now.”

Vic looked down at the napkin she’d methodically shredded into tiny pieces. It now resembled a mound of confetti. “Sorry.”

“Now, what’s wrong?”

“Baptiste.”

Louise chuckled. “Are the two of y’all still battling like the Hatfields and McCoys?”

“No, and that’s the problem.”

Louise shook her head. “Perhaps I’m running a little slow here today. I don’t understand what the problem is.”

Vic sighed. “Mom, as long as Baptiste and I were at each other’s throat, I had a chance.”

“A chance at what?”

“Not losing my heart to him.”

Louise hitched her brow as a smile surfaced. “And now?”

“I’m in deep doggie do.”

“Do you love him?”

“After Ron, I didn’t think I could love any man again.”

“Why not?” Louise replied in a bewildered tone.

“Because…” And before she knew it, Vic blurted out the real reason for her divorce from Ron.

“I don’t believe that A.J. would ever betray you,” Louise said.

Vic could tell her mother was trying to hide her anger, and she opened her arms and cried out, “You don’t know that, Mom, and neither do I.” She shook her head. “I can’t take the chance.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When Vic didn’t comply right away, Louise spoke more forcefully. “Victoria Louise Bennett, look at me. A.J. loves you.”

“I know,” Vic softly confessed.

Louise gathered Vic’s hands inside hers. “I’ma ask one more question: Do you love him?”

Blinking back unshed tears, Vic nodded. “But…”

“But what, baby?”

“H-How do I get over the hurt, the pain of Ron’s betrayal? How do I learn to forgive?”

Louise smiled. “To answer your first question, you pray. You ought to try it sometimes. It really works. And to answer your second question, you pray some more.”

Vic sniffed and chuckled. “So you’re telling me I need to go to church more often?”

Louise snorted. “Listen, you can move in the church house if you wanna. It won’t help. When you’re faced with a problem, it’s not where you go, it’s Who you go to and what you hear from Him that counts.”

“I’ll never forgive Ron for what he did to me,” Vic said bitterly with her head bowed.

Louise clicked her tongue against the top of her mouth. “You’re getting things a little mixed up, baby.”

Vic’s head snapped up. “Why do you say that?”

“There are two issues you’re dealing with here: betrayal by one man and your love for another.”

Vic shook her head, confused. “I don’t understand the point you’re trying to make, Mom.”

“Didn’t you just sit here and tell me that you love A.J.?”

Vic nodded.

“Baby, you’re denying yourself a chance at happiness with the man you love by always remembering the circumstances that caused another man’s betrayal.”

“What?” Vic cried out incredulously. “Ron was the one who got caught in bed with another man, not me. How can I forgive him again after that?”

Louise nodded. “You’re right. But you share some responsibility, too.”

“What?” Vic cried out.

“Baby, don’t you see, you’ve let
your
sin—the inability to forgive Ron’s betrayal—rule your life for the last eight years?”

“Have not.”

“Have, too.”

Vic whispered back under her breath, “Have not.”

Louise chuckled. “Vic, you’ve got a heart of gold. You’ll help anybody—give ’em the shirt off your back—but your downfall has always been learning how to forgive.” She chuckled again. “Remember how getting you to turn loose a grudge was the one thing we fought about the most when you were growing up?”

Vic chuckled, too. “I remember. I didn’t speak to Harrison for weeks when he broke my favorite doll.”

Louise nodded. “Umm-hmm. That poor child begged you for two whole months to forgive him.”

“I know,” Vic said, smiling as she brushed back a tear.

“Vic, the past is the past. You’ve got to learn to let go of the hurt, the anger, and move on.”

“But I can’t,” Vic whispered in a choked voice.

“Yes, you can.”

Vic brushed her hands across her face. “How?”

“Let me ask you this. Was A.J. mad at you when he found out you were the one who hit him?”

“No.”

“Did he forgive you?”

“Yes.”

“Case closed.”

“B-But Louise, that was an entirely different situation,” Vic defended.

Louise inclined her head and braced her finger at her temple. “Tell me how it was different. Tell me how your trespass against A.J. is any different from Ron’s sin against you. Go on, tell me. I want to hear this.”

“Mom—”

“Child, don’t let somebody else’s sins make you sin. Besides, you got enough stuff of your own you got to give an account of. Don’t need to add someone else’s drama to the mix.”

“B-But how will I know that I’ve forgiven Ron for all the pain he caused?”

Louise smiled. “You’ll know. Trust me.”

“How?”

Louise grabbed Vic’s hands in hers. “Baby, when you can look Ron straight in the eye, think back on all the unhappiness he caused, and wish him well, you’ve forgiven him.”

Vic shook her head in amazement.

Louise smiled again. “Listen, I’m not sitting here telling you that A.J.’s a saint—no one is. Hell, if he ever decided to run around on you, it would be with a woman, not a man. But I don’t believe you even have to worry about another woman.”

“How can you be so sure?” Vic asked between sniffles.

“Anytime a man looks at a woman the way that man looks at you, can’t tell me he’d ever stray.”

Vic stared at her mother for a long time as the impact of what she’d said slowly sank in and admitted that she hadn’t thought about it from that perspective before. For eight years, she’d been scared of another man’s betrayal. It had been betrayal, not love, that had kept her from giving her heart to Baptiste.

Vic sighed. “I’m scared, Mom.”

“I know you are, baby, and you’re also having a tough time moving out of that safety zone of yours.”

“But Mom—”

“No buts.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.”

“What if—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Vic giggled. “Mom, you don’t even know what I was getting ready to say.”

Louise giggled, too. “Okay, what were you going to say?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, I don’t know…”

Louise inched up her brow. “Mean to tell me you been living in the man’s house all this time and y’all ain’t—”

Even though she and her mother had always openly discussed everything, especially sex, memory of A.J.’s head cradled between her legs as well as the things he’d done while he was there made her blush. He’d evoked feelings within her that made her tighten her thighs together with the agonizing need for him to do it again. “Sort of.”

Louise smiled, nodding. “I see. A few appetizers, but no entrée. How’s his ribs doing?”

“Much better.”

“That’s good. He can move around now, right?”

Vic nodded.

Louise winked. “The two of ya’ll have been playing. ’Bout time you help the man get on his back, side, or whatever other position you decide to come up with and get to the real thing.”

“Mom,” Vic shrieked, mortified.

“What?” Louise replied innocently. “I’m telling the truth. Your mama’s sixty, not dead.” Looking off in the distance, she mumbled, “Lord, I hope that child has taken a CPR refresher course.”

Stunned, Vic asked, “Why?”

“Just trying to be sure you got on-the-spot first aid, that’s all. From what you telling me, if anything does go down, you gonna need it.”

“Mom, I probably wouldn’t know passion if it hit me in the face.”

“Humph, give the man half a chance, and you just might find out. Baby, you’d be surprised how quickly passion will surface when you’re behind closed doors with the right man.” She winked. “Ask me how I know.”

“I don’t know—”

“Well, I do! You gonna stop being scared of loving A.J. and act like you were raised by me.”

“How’s that?”

“With some sense.” Louise tilted Vic’s head back to look her square in the eyes. “Baby, A.J. loves you with all his heart.”

“I know,” Vic admitted.

Vic stood and shared a long embrace with her mother.

Louise stood back and cupped Vic’s face. “You’ve got a good man, child. I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at you. Besides, for a man—and a single man at that—to step up and take care of some other man’s children the way A.J. has…baby, you can’t tell me he wouldn’t treat you right. When a man loves a woman the way A.J. loves you, it’s no different than opportunity—it comes around once in a lifetime.”

Chapter 11

“Valerie?” A.J. strolled inside her hospital room with a bright smile on his face around three in the afternoon after receiving clearance from the police officers stationed outside her door.

After Zach left his house that morning, he dressed, dropped off Taylor and Tyler at preschool, and headed over to the clinic. Once he settled in, he received a call from his sister-in-law, Caitlyn, who, without divulging Vic’s confidence, assured him that she was all right. He forced himself to be content with that, and in many ways it was enough. For the past three weeks, they’d lived together as partners and friends. No other woman had ever shattered his control the way Vic did. An intense desire, the kind he’d never felt before for any woman, had for months forced him to wait for her. Even now, he knew they were linked in a way that went far beyond love. In every sense of the word, they were soul mates.

Valerie’s face lit up. “Hey, Dr. B.”

“How’s my favorite patient?”

“Good. I talked with that police lieutenant, Zach.”

“I know,” A.J. replied, smiling as he pulled up a chair next to the bed. “But Zach also told me that you’re a little apprehensive about going into the Witness Protection Program.”

Agitated, Valerie wound the blanket tightly around her finger. “Ain’t got nobody to take care of my babies if I do.”

A.J. shook his head in rebuttal. “Yes, you do.”

Valerie’s eyes grew wide. “Who?”

“Me.”

Valerie chuckled. “Dr. B., what you know ’bout babies?”

A.J. chuckled back. “Well, I’ve been a pediatrician for ten years, so that should count for something. Plus, I have two little girls of my own.”

“You do?” Valerie asked, amazed.

A.J. nodded. He stood and pulled a recent family picture from his wallet and handed it to Valerie.

Valerie fingered the photograph. “They’re so pretty.” She looked up at A.J. “What’s their names?”

“This is Taylor,” A.J. advised, pointing to his left. Then, he moved his finger a fraction. “And that’s Tyler. I met them when they were a little over eighteen months old.”

“How?”

“One night they were brought into the emergency room at the hospital where I used to work by Child Protective Services. I was one of the doctors who helped care for them.”

“What about their real mother?”

“Unfortunately, she was a drug addict, probably not much older than you. But you’re in a different situation than she was.”

Valerie looked at A.J., baffled. “How?”

“You’re determined to stay clean. She made the choice not to.”

“Do you know what happened to her?” she asked with a wobbly voice.

A.J. nodded sadly. “She ended up dead from an overdose about six months later.”

Valerie turned her head to hide the tears that were forming. “I’m scared that’s gonna happen to me,” she uttered, sobbing.

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Valerie wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Why you say that?”

“That decision, and the direction of your life and that of your babies, is in your hands.”

“So you think I need to go into that Witness Protection Program?”

“Only you can answer that question, Valerie. Think about the options you have to choose from. You either go back to Scooter and the life you’re trying hard to leave behind, or you start a new life away from the streets and free of drugs. Now, what option do you think would be best for Brianna and Chloé?”

“But I ain’t got nobody to help me.”

A.J. shook his head again in disagreement. “I told you before, sweetheart, you have me.”

“You’d really help me?”

“Yes. I would be willing to take care of Brianna and Chloé until you’re in a position to do it yourself.”

“Really?” she said with excitement.

He nodded, but quickly held his right index finger in front of him. “Only on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That you continue to stay clean and work
really
hard to care for them yourself one day. Understand?”

Valerie nodded.

A.J. scooted his chair closer to the bed. “Okay, now, tell me about your babies.”

A.J. spent the next hour discussing Brianna and Chloe with Valerie. He learned about the twin’s likes and dislikes, their eating and sleeping habits, asked detailed questions about the medical history, immunizations, and family history. He hoped his offer to Valerie to care for her babies wouldn’t scare Vic too much. It wasn’t every day that a woman willingly entered into a relationship with a ready-made family. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that Vic loved Taylor and Tyler as much as he did. But could she accept the responsibility of caring for two other children, too? Caring for children was in his bones, buried deep in the very depth of his existence.

When they finished talking, Valerie leaned back, and for the first time in a long time, felt relieved. “Thank you, Dr. B.”

A.J. smiled. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

* * *

After leaving her parents’ home, Vic drove around for hours, finally arriving at her condominium around nine that night. As soon as she stepped inside, the place she’d called home for the last seven years felt foreign.

She walked straight into her bedroom, grabbed a suitcase from the closet, and packed the remainder of her clothes. After she’d finished, she sat on the edge of her bed as tears stung the back of her eyes. She could no longer deny what she’d fought so hard against for the last ten months. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but knew without a doubt that it had.

She’d fallen in love.

In the last three weeks, Baptiste had completely consumed her mind, her heart, and her soul. But without warning, the past flashed before her, causing her heart to pound, and she broke out into a sweat. She recalled what Caitlyn had told her earlier and relaxed, taking comfort in the knowledge that she wasn’t the only woman—or man for that matter—who’d gone through the same experience with a spouse. She released a low laugh as understanding of the prophetic conversation with her mother came to her.

“God, I love him,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist. “And I love the girls, too.” She panicked. What if Baptiste’s patience with her had run its course? He’d done everything humanly possible to try and persuade her to give their love a chance. In hindsight, she had only herself to blame for the hurt she’d suffered. Not finding a way to forgive Ron for all these years had stood in the way of her finding love and happiness.

The past no longer mattered anymore. Being with Baptiste, Taylor, and Tyler mattered. Caring for a family,
her
family, mattered. And for the first time in eight years, the love she felt conquered the fear she’d held on to for too long. Lifting her suitcase off the floor, she headed for the door. There was one other stop she needed to make.

After that, she was going home.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Vic pulled her BMW X5 into Baptiste’s garage. She used her key to unlock the door and once inside, eased down the hallway with suitcase in hand. Quietly, she opened the door to his bedroom.

“Baptiste…”

From the threshold, she looked at him standing in the center of the candlelit room. With a boldness she didn’t even know she had, she walked inside, dropping her purse onto the floor as she passed him, placed her suitcase in the closet, and turned to face him.

“That’s where it belongs, and that’s where it’s gonna stay.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes.” She proceeded to tell him about the conversations she’d had with her mother and Caitlyn earlier in the day.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Baptiste, I-I discovered something else today.”

“What’s that,
mon amour
?”

“I love you.”


Je t’aime,
” A.J. whispered, even though she still hadn’t told him the one thing he longed to hear. “How can you be so sure?”

God, he wasn’t making this easy for her, she thought. She sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Because I’m giving you my heart—”

His mouth swooped down on hers because, besides confessing her love for him, she’d just placed her heart in the safest place within the entire universe—his hands. Lifting his head a few moments later, he muttered against her mouth, “
That’s
what I’ve needed to hear you say.”

She clung to him like a vine, her body rolling against him. “
Je t’aime
,” she whispered through trembling lips. “I-I was scared, Baptiste. The harder I tried to run from you, the more I tried to convince myself not to fall in love with you, the more I came up on the short end. I want to be your woman and make babies with you one day.”

He rested his head against hers, his breathing labored. “Let me make love to you.”

Stooping, she grabbed out of her purse the box of condoms she’d purchased after she left her condominium. She straightened and handed them to him. “I didn’t know so many brands were on the market,” she managed to say while her fingers dueled with the drawstring of his pajama bottoms. “Let’s not play with this, Baptiste. Wrap it up, right now.”

He tore the square packet with his teeth. If it had been any other woman, he would have been embarrassed for ripping his pajama bottoms until they hung in two tattered pieces, but he wasn’t. Vic was snatching her clothes off just as fast. When her naked body melted against him like wax—warm and soft—he moaned.

She hadn’t meant to charge at him as if she was in heat. She simply couldn’t help it. It had been so long since she’d made love and felt the warmth of a man’s touch, she was about to go stark, raving mad. So what if she sounded like a mugging victim being assaulted in a back alley somewhere? She just prayed her shrill cries of pleasure vibrating off the walls didn’t wake up the girls. Shame didn’t enter the picture when they hit the bed hard on one side and landed crooked on the other with her straddled on top.

He lifted her hands to his shoulders and settled her on his hips, issuing a one-word command: “Ride.”

She clamped her thighs next to his and wrapped her fingers around what felt like a rod of steel encased in velvet. Guiding him inside her, she sank slowly down on his hard, strong length. She gasped from the initial contact, her body stretching painfully at first to accommodate his fullness. Adjusting to the marvelous invasion, she rocked back and forth, setting a pace he soon followed. Every doubt she’d feared faded in an instant; every reservation she’d held on to for years was stripped away as she plunged up and down. The friction against her swollen bud became so profound that her head tumbled back and tears streamed down her face. His name floated like a cloud past her lips. As tiny sparks of pleasure appeared, faded, then suddenly reappeared with intensity, she halted. She wanted to feel the strong waves of glorious sensations course through her, and out of nowhere, her body exploded, and she whimpered his name out on a broken syllable.

“Don’t stop,” he begged. For ten long, agonizing months, he’d fantasized about this very moment. He’d even rehearsed how they’d make love long and slow the first time. Now he doubted if he’d make it past the tenth stroke the way she was grinding herself against him. God knows, he tried to retain his control, gave it his best shot to hang on to what little dignity he had. Every movement of her hips pushed him closer to the edge.

The musky scent of their love permeated the air and wafted past his nostrils until they flared. The huskiness of her voice calling out his name made him lose all perspective. On the fourth stroke, he felt like a lethal wattage of electricity had surged through him. He stiffened and roared out her name on a ragged plea.

Slumped over his chest, panting from exertion, Vic tried to sit up, but collapsed from the effort. “Oh, God…”


Mon amour
,” he murmured, breathless, his eyes closed, his hands moving up and down her sweat-drenched back. “Baby…oh, baby.”

“Oh, Jesus,” she called out on a slow exhale.

Chuckling, he planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Our first time was supposed to be long and slow.”

Her body was still twitching. “It was all right by me.”

He rolled them to the side, the connection of their bodies broken, and headed for the bathroom. When he returned moments later, he stretched out on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. Looking down at her, he glided his hand underneath her hips, caressing them.

She squeezed her thighs together and moaned. Her face twisted in sweet agony as she cupped an ache with her palm that never felt so good, all the while praying he’d make it go away.

“Want me to make it better?” he asked, understanding her dilemma. His open mouth glided down her chest to capture a nipple.

Her hand slid between their bellies, working its way south until she held him. “Depends on how you do it.”

He glanced down at her. “Almost…”

Her lips parted in a sensual smile, her eyes signaling him, daring him. She thought him more than ready.

“Let me take the wheel,” he whispered, accepting the challenge. Cradled between her thighs, he rolled another condom in place. “I don’t want to take the curve too fast this time. I might crash and eject too soon,” he groaned softly, joining them.

She’d chance a head-on collision with him any day. Closing her eyes, she tightened her legs around his and the movement drew him in deeper. She cried out her pleasure because he felt that good. Over and over, she loved him, freeing all the passion and desire she’d felt for this man from the moment they’d met.

But it wasn’t enough.

With her hands locked over her head, she let him ride her, strong hips pumping, and in return, she gave everything she had: her mind, her soul, and her heart.

“Wrap those pretty legs around me,” he growled. Taut lines etched across his face as he lost himself in the ecstasy of making love to her. The woman whose body clasped him so tightly pushed him to the brink of insanity once again.

With her legs at his waist, their bodies became inseparable. Ripples of pleasure swept over her as he plunged harder and faster, and with each thrust, she knew she’d never stop loving him. The need to be closer, if that were possible, made her plant her feet flat on the mattress. Lifting her hips and widening her thighs caused him to touch her womb. And just like the first time, they came together, moaning each other’s name on a hushed whisper.

BOOK: When a Man Loves a Woman (Indigo)
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