Heard It All Before (23 page)

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Authors: Michele Grant

BOOK: Heard It All Before
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I looked at him as I picked up a plate. “You just make sure you don't get too curvy yourself, eh
petit garçon
?” I was catching on to this Cajun thing. I grinned as everyone hooted and hollered. Pops gave me a squeeze and walked away.
“Who you calling little boy, Miss Jewel?” Roman frowned down into my face.
“Eh,
chère
, you no take no mouth from LaChayse, ya hear?” One of the uncles called out to me.
Roman grinned, leaned closer, and kissed me. We got a few more whistles. I was trying to get used to these public displays of affection. Like I said, this was a tough crowd to try to be proper and polite in.
“That's the only kinda mouth to take! What you say,
Bijou
?” Kat called out, and I laughed into his mouth. Kat and some of the others had taken to calling me
Bijou,
which, appropriately, means “Jewel” in French. It amused me to hear how the Montgomery children used their Cajun background. Beau played his up, making it a charming accessory to his already happy-go-lucky personality. Katrina switched back and forth from earthy bayou woman to sophisticated cover girl. And Roman? God bless him, he used the Cajun like he used the hip-hop—when he felt it was appropriate and to help him play whatever role he was into that day. I was starting to get used to that mercurial, multifaceted thing he did. This boy took moodiness to new heights. Whoever said love was easy?
“Hey, Romeo, ya holdin' up the line!”
“Let
l'enfant
up for air!” That was Aunt Yo-Yo. She called everyone
l'enfant
, or child, even Grandmere Montgomery, who was pushing ninety-five.
Roman released me and gave me one of those cat-with-the-canary grins before turning back to the buffet. Just then, Jaquenetta came in. Did the woman own anything other than black Lycra? She had maroon-colored curls cascading down her back (bad weave) and flying saucer silver hoop earrings on. Without sparing me a glance, she stepped in between Roman and me with Chase at her side. “Ya don't mind if we cut, do ya, Juliet? Romeo's child is hungry.” She bared her teeth in what was supposed to be a grin, no doubt.
I'd been having such a nice time that I'd almost forgotten she was there. And how clever of her to use Chase as an excuse.
I grinned back, just as sincerely. “I would never deprive this child of anything, honey. You just go right on ahead.”
“Are you sure, Miss Joo-well?” Little Chase blinked up at me, almost as if he knew his mama was up to no damn good.
I leaned down to kiss his cheek. “I'm sure, sweetheart.” I looked back at his mother. “Go ahead, I can wait.”
“As long as you don't mind coming behind me. You might have to settle for what I leave behind,” she said, and turned her back.
Oh, like I wasn't supposed to know what that little dig meant? Two could play these little word games. “Well, no, I don't mind at all. They say timing is everything, don't they? Sometimes you just gotta save the best for last.”
“Some people happy wi' sloppy seconds.”
“A real diamond always sparkles; cubic zirconium loses its luster pretty fast.”
“Uh, babe, I got enough food for you too. Come on and let's find a place to sit. The game'll be coming on soon.” Roman, the little peacemaker, spoke. He dragged me into the family room and onto the love seat closest to the TV. “Meow, meow, Miss Jewel.”
I sank my fork into an interesting-looking dish on his plate. “She scratched first, player.” I took a bite. “Oh my God, that's heavenly. What is it?”
“Oh, that's Aunt Yo-Yo's oyster and crawfish stuffing. Good, huh?”
“Um-hmm.” Talk ceased as our forks battled for position on the plate.
Madere and Pops walked in and stood watching Roman and I eat off the same plate until we got self-conscious and looked up. Madere was a tiny woman with dark skin, a beautiful face, and a petite figure. Avery was a light-skinned giant of a man with rough features and beautiful eyes. Oddly enough, they looked perfect together.
Madere smiled. “You happy, you two?”
“Yes, ma'am,” we answered in unison.
Madere nodded and nudged Pops. He cleared his throat and looked down at me seriously. He was a tall man, still very charismatic, and he had an almost regal air about him. When he looked down at me with that expression on his face, I have to admit, I felt a twinge of apprehension. “Question, Jewellen.”
I put the fork down. “Yes, sir?”
“When you gonna marry my boy here?” Funny, marriage was the one topic we have avoided like the plague since Labor Day weekend. After Mr. Cool-About-Everything-Else looked like he was ready to flee at the mention of the “m” word, I damned sure wasn't bringing it back up. God, you just had to love parents, didn't you? Just break a question like that out, no buildup, in the middle of a holiday thing.
“Pops!” Roman handed me the plate and jumped to his feet.
Once I closed my mouth, I had an answer ready. “It's early days yet, and to be truthful, he hasn't asked, sir. And I'm an old-fashioned kinda girl. I do believe the woman should wait for the man to ask.” Ha! Let him take the heat.
Pops shook his head. “Alanna, we raised him wrong. In my day, a man see what's good in front of him, he makes sure he gets to keep it for himself. How he let this get away?”
Madere reached over and yanked Roman's ear.
“Tu ne demandes pas?”
I interpreted that as, “You haven't asked?” I took a bite of food so I wouldn't break out laughing.
“Madere! No, I ... well, we're not ... I mean, we don't ... Jewel?” He looked over at me for help.
I was fascinated. It was the first time I'd ever seen the boy at a loss for words. What was it about the word
marriage
that freaked a brother right out? I shrugged and sat back to enjoy it.
But Pops wasn't having it. He pointed at me. “
Tu l'aimes?”
Did I love him? Easy question, easy answer. “
Oui
. I mean, yes.” Now they had me doing this French thing.
He turned his stern gaze on Roman.
“Et vous, l'aimez retour?”
Roman blinked. “Do I return this love?” He relaxed and grinned. “Pops, I multiply it.”
I rolled my eyes and shot him a look that said “Good answer, Slick.” He could be such a corny poet when he was trying to impress me. But I could tell from the expressions on his parents' faces that they loved his answer.
Madere threw her hands out. “
Ça va. Ça suffit. Temps et que Dieu nous dira. Allons,
Avery.” They turned and walked out.
I raised my brows and looked at Roman. “I missed that part. What was that?”
Roman sat back down. “She said, ‘Okay, that will do. Only God and time will tell. Let's go, Avery.' ” He shook his head. “I wonder what brought that on?” He looked like a man who had just been granted a stay of execution.
I shrugged. “ 'Tis the season, I suppose.”
He looked over at me. “Uh, you wanna talk about this some more?”
I raised my eyebrows and grinned at him. He was so uncomfortable; he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. I decided to let him off the hook. “Maybe another time. The game's about to start; people are coming to watch.” Besides, I had no idea what I'd say if he asked right now. I loved Roman, but marriage ... that meant forever and ever, didn't it? Something about that was far more serious than leaving my toothbrush and fat-free cookies at his house.
He looked around and tried to disguise his sigh of relief. “Yeah, yeah, another time.”
I smirked at him. “You can exhale now. Happy holidays, player.”
22
‘Tis the Season
Renee—Thursday, December 22, 11:35 p.m.
 
 
G
reggy and I were on our way to the airport when I had to ask him, “What's the problem here?” He'd been edgy all day, and it was making me nervous. Bad enough that we were spending Christmas apart. But with my mom in Arizona and his still not all that warm about me, what could we do? My mom, on the other hand, adored Greg. Couldn't shut up about him. Fiona still barely gave me the time of day.
“Just missing you already, Ray. That's all.” I shot him a look. That was all, my ass. He could be so slick sometimes. I still didn't 100 percent trust his cute ass.
“Greg, it's me, huh? Don't bullshit me, boy.”
We stopped to pull a parking ticket before he answered. “Ray, don't trip. You're going to be gone for a few days; leave on a good note.”
I snorted. “If you wanted me to leave on a good note, you would have given me my present last night when I asked for it.” I was still good and peeved about that. Really, what was with all the drama? Truth be told, this was our first time spending more than a day or two away from each other, and I didn't like the feel of it. Not that I didn't trust my Greggy to be faithful; that I had no qualms about. Then again, 'tis the season to be jolly, as they say. Old girlfriends popped back into town. All them damn tidings of joy start swimming around, ya know?
It would be just like Fiona to wait until I was away. I would lay odds that she had called all of Greg's old skanky hos. Knowing his mother, she's had this planned for months. I tell you, no matter what people say, a black woman's worst enemy was another smart black woman with an attitude and an agenda of her own. And I had to say, that described Mrs. Fiona Samson to a tee.
“Renee, for Christ's sake, I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears. What are you boiling up in that mind of yours? Whatever you're thinking, baby, quit.” He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
He parked the car and popped the trunk. He grabbed my suitcase, I grabbed the carry-on, and we headed inside the terminal. We were standing in line, and I kept sending him these little ya-better-not-slip-up-while-I'm-gone looks. Greggy being Greggy, he read me like a book.
“Ray, where are we without trust?”
“Phoenix and Dallas,” I answered wryly. My mama didn't raise no fools.
He smirked. “That's cute, baby. Real cute.”
I had to make just one last effort here. “Just promise me one thing, huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “Anything within my power, baby.” Always the perfect comeback.
“Promise me you'll hang up on any of your ex-hoochies when they call.”
“My ex-
hoochies
? Ray, I never dated any hoochies.”
“You know what I'm saying, boy.”
“Yeah, I just resent like hell the way you put it. And I'm getting a little pissed off at your implication. Like, the minute your back is turned, I'm gonna go hit the streets or something. If anyone around here should be anxious about someone playing off, it's me.”
Now what did he mean by that crack? “Greg, I haven't so much as looked at another man while I've been with you.” Well, almost. Unless you counted Beau. And since Jewel had made good her promise to keep an entire city between me and Beau at all times, I didn't think that one night of harmless flirting over three months ago counted.
He hit me with that look. That don't-make-me-call-you-out-girl look. Oops, I guessed it counted.
“What? Who? When?” I just wanted to see if he'd have the nerve to bring it up. He'd never said anything to me about what I called the Labor Day Incident. I guess I wanted to see if I could push him a little bit.
We stepped up to the counter. I checked my baggage, and the woman stapled the claim stubs to my ticket. “That's gate twenty-four, sweetheart. Happy holidays, y'all.”
We smiled at her and went and sat down near the security gates in silence. I waited for Greg to speak.
It appeared I was waiting in vain. He just reached over, took my hand, and we just sat. I looked at him questioningly. He smiled and said nothing. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. And he knew how silence drives me crazy.
They began boarding first class. I stood up and started toward the screening tables. He stood up and watched me. The silence was unnerving. I was about to break down and apologize when he stepped over to me, pulled me close in a hug, and spoke in my ear.
“We're not ever going to talk about Beau and whatever that thing was, okay? Not ever. If you ever want me to leave, you just let me know and I'm gone, no questions asked.” I pulled back to protest. Damn but brother got strong on me all out of the blue. One minute I was teasing, next he was all tough guy. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, when he hit me with one of those sneak-attack kisses he was so damn good at. The kind of quick, in-out, heart-thumping, panty-soaking tonguing that left me kind of misty. Beau who?
He stepped back and cleared his throat. “Okay now, baby, I'm gonna miss you.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a wrapped package. “Take this with you. Call me when you get there. I love you, baby. I know sometimes I bullshit around and say what I need to say to get what I want, but I really mean this. I love you. Merry Christmas.” He started backing away before turning with a wave and walking off.
Dammit. Just when I was being cool and in control, playing the role, he had to come correct with something like this. Now I was standing in the airport crying like a fool with my hormones raging. “Gregory!” He stopped and spun around. I just looked at him for a second. He really
was
fine and good and sweet, and did I already say fine? And God bless me, he was all mine. He arched a brow at the way I was looking at him, and a slow grin spread across his face. He started back toward me slowly.
“You love me too? Is that what you want to say, Miss Nightingale? Don't know how you'll get through the next five days without me? Praise the Lord for the day you met me?”
Outrageously arrogant and obnoxious, that's what he was. “Dammit, Merry Christmas.” Shit, since he knew me so well, he knew what I meant.
He kissed me again and wiped my face with his thumb. “I hear you. I even hear what you didn't say.” This time when he spun away, he didn't look back.
I was the last person to get on the plane, and the flight attendant had an attitude about it. I gave a damn and took my time stashing my carry-on in the overhead compartment. I fumbled around with my book and the gift from Greg before settling into the seat. She shot me a look as I finally sat and buckled my belt.
I ignored her as she started in on the safety bullshit they always told you. I tried to read my book, but that present just kept winking at me. I really should wait till Christmas. Then again, he wouldn't have given it to me if he wanted me to wait. We were airborne when I gave up the struggle and ripped into it. It was one of those box-in-a-box things he knows I hate. They're so irksome, and I was not close to being patient enough for these things. The old white woman next to me clucked her teeth as I opened the sixth one.
“He's really making you work for it, isn't he, honey?” She reminded me of my grandmother.
I thought,
You don't know the half of it, Grammy
. That boy made me work for everything. It could never just be simple with him. But instead I answered politely, “I guess he thought this would draw out the suspense.” I came to the last box, and my heart started to beat a little faster. It was a little Tiffany blue box, and to me, that meant only one thing—jewelry. Yes, I loved that boy!
I was thinking tennis bracelet. Then I remembered when we went to the mall the last time and stopped in the jewelry store. “I'll bet it's those diamond studs I wanted!” I told Grammy next to me. She looked as excited as I felt. When I popped open the enclosed gray velvet box, my mouth fell open.
“Oh my God!” the woman next to me said, and all I could do was nod. I was staring down at the most beautiful diamond solitaire ring I'd ever laid eyes on. It was a flawless, simple, marquise-cut rock set into platinum. Simply perfect, had to be between three and four carats. There was a note jammed into the back of the case. I pulled it out, expecting beautiful words of love. It said, “Let's cut the bullshit, quit with the games. Enough already. I want it all or nothing. Marry me. Gregory.”
“Lord, he's an arrogant asshole even when he's proposing.” I felt the tears starting back up again. I couldn't believe it. Here it was, the day I'd been waiting on for thirty years. And I couldn't believe it, just was not absorbing the reality.
“Try it on, honey!” Grammy was still leaning all over into my business. I started to hand her the note, since she was having a hard time reading it from her angle. I picked up the ring, and my hands were shaking. Jesus, I didn't want to drop it. I finally slipped it on the proper finger, and of course it fit perfectly. Fault him on some things, but he knew his shit.
“It's beautiful,” a young girl across the aisle breathed. I looked up to realize that the whole section of the plane was watching me. I smiled at them smugly.
“It
is
beautiful, isn't it?” I flashed it around some so all their poor asses could get a good look. That's right, baby. Sister done landed her a good man. Strong, black, fine, and paid! And mine ... all mine, forever and ever! I wanted to close my eyes and send up a prayer of thanks, but I couldn't take my eyes off the rock.
“You gonna marry him?” a guy in the row back and over an aisle asked. “You gotta marry a guy who buys you
that
!”
I grinned a little wider. Hell, yes, I was gonna marry him, and Fiona could kiss my entire black ass. “You bet I'm going to marry him.” I cleaned it up a little so as not to shock the folks. The attendant came by to see what all the excitement was, and I flashed the rock and explained. Then I asked her to take the trash from the boxes away for me. Her look clearly said “You stuck-up bitch.” I just smiled at her and whipped out my credit card for the air phone. I took the phone and went into the bathroom, as there was no hope of privacy at my seat. I dialed up his cell phone number first.
He answered on the first ring. “Hi, baby, how's the flight?”
I laughed. Of course he knew it was me. “You're an asshole. I love you. Yes.”
“Like the stone, do you?” I heard the smile in his voice.
“Think you know me, huh?” I grinned right back.
“If not, I guess I've got till death do us part to find out.”
“You bet your sweet ass, you do. You stuck with me now, Mr. Samson.” I hung up on him. In the mirror, the ring winked at me. I winked right back. “Merry Christmas to me.”
 
 
Jewel—Friday, December 23, 1:10 p.m.
Roman's voice was low and urgent. “Come on, baby, come on. Give it to me. Come for me now, baby. Now!”
“Sweet Lord.” I gritted my teeth and begged for mercy.
“Jewel, now, baby.”
Since the boy had me plowed up against the wall of some employee lounge at the airport and was loving me senseless with impossibly deep strokes at an incredibly fast pace, I had to comply with his demands. I let the climax slam across already jingling nerves, seep into tingling muscles. I felt his immediate response surging within me and bit my lip to keep from crying out.
I sighed and sagged back against the wall. We'd done quickies before but never quite this quick and frenzied.
Hot and sloppy
was the phrase I was searching for. We had been sitting in the gate area listening to my mom go on about the hotel she booked for us. She told Roman he'd be getting a chance to know Ross better, as they'd be roommates for the duration of the trip.
Roman and I looked at each other. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to us until just that minute that we wouldn't be sleeping together for a few days. Now, don't get me wrong; sex wasn't everything. But, uh, we're still in that haze, you know? That cloudy place where great sex was yours for the taking so you took it, often—more often than that if you could get away with it.
Anyway, Captain Cajun Fine Ass hit me with the smolder. The let's-get-it-on smolder. Next thing I knew, Roman told Mom that he and I were going to grab a snack. Five minutes later, we were down the terminal in some employee lounge. No idea how we got in or why it was empty. All I knew was it was about to be on. He grabbed me and lifted me, pressing me against the wall. Just like that, we were ready to rumble. Panties tossed, my skirt hiked up, legs wrapped around his waist. Zip, snap, drop, and he was in. And now here we were. Amazing how the thought of being deprived of something makes you instantly ravenous for it.
“That was a snack?” I teased, wheezing for air. I loosened my death grip on his hips and let my feet slide to the ground.

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