Homecoming (19 page)

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Authors: Rochelle Alers

BOOK: Homecoming
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Eighteen

Dana set the table on the back porch with her grandmother’s best china, silver, and stemware. Lighted candles flickered in the lengthening shadows, creating a surreal look. Smoothing down the bodice of her dress over her flat middle, she surveyed her handiwork, pleased. The music coming from the speakers of a radio set the mood that screamed romantic.

Tyler had called her at six-twenty, informing her he was leaving the clinic to return home to shower and to expect him at her place around seven-thirty. The chiming of the doorbell echoed throughout the house. Glancing at the watch on her wrist, Dana had to smile. It was exactly seven-twenty-eight. Taking a deep breath, she walked back into the house.

Tyler skirted a few puddles left over from an earlier thunderstorm, hoping to avoid Janie Stewart. The elderly woman sat on her front porch rocking and protecting the block from foreign invaders.

“Dana feeling poorly again, Dr. Cole?”

Forcing a smile, Tyler nodded to her. “No, Miss Janie.”

“Why you bringing her flowers then? They are for her, ain’t they?”

Stopping, he gave her a long stare. “Yes, these flowers
are for Dana. I’m giving them to her because she and I are keeping company.”

He knew if he hadn’t told Janie Stewart the truth about his visits to Dana’s house, then she was certain to make up her own version as to why he’d come so often. He couldn’t stop people from gossiping, but he’d try to shield Dana from lies and untruths by being open about his relationship with her.

His explanation seemed to please Miss Janie. “That’s so nice, Dr. Cole. Your mama must be so proud of you. She sure raised you nice and proper. I thought my daddy, God rest his soul, was the last gentleman in Hillsboro. Tell Dana I said she’s a lucky girl. I just hope she doesn’t make the same mistake her mama did with her daddy.”

Ignoring the woman’s parting remark, he stared at Dana, waiting for her to unlatch the screen door. “Save me,” he groaned under his breath.

She smiled at him. “Miss Janie?”

“Yes,” he said between his teeth.

“Hurry up and come in.”

Tyler stepped into the entryway, closing and locking the door behind him. He loomed over Dana, dwarfing her with his height, although she wore a pair of high-heeled sling-strap sandals. “She asked me about coming to see you, and I told her we were keeping company.”

Dana shrugged a bare satiny shoulder under a silk dress with a squared neckline. Each time she inhaled, a soft swell of breasts rose above the revealing décolletage, drawing Tyler’s heated gaze to the spot.

“Telling Miss Janie our business is akin to free advertising.”

Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over hers. “It doesn’t bother you that she’ll announce it to everyone who’ll stand still long enough to listen to her?”

Wrapping her arms around his slim waist, Dana smiled up at Tyler. “No, it doesn’t, because when I walked out of Mt. Nebo Baptist Church yesterday, I took Reverend Wingate’s sermon with me. ‘Let the first one among you who is guiltless be the first to throw a stone, at her.’ Words, stones, or stares can’t hurt me. Right now I will not permit anything or anyone to hurt me.”

An inexplicable look of withdrawal came over Tyler’s face as he noted the stubborn set of Dana’s delicate jaw. She’d offered him her body, but continued to withhold her heart. He successfully hid his disappointment when he forced a smile he did not feel.

Extending his right hand, he handed her the flowers. “These are for you.”

She took the cellophane-wrapped bouquet of white foxgloves and snow-white calla lilies amid a profusion of pale creamy roses. Delight fired her sun-lit eyes. “They’re beautiful.” Smiling, she glanced up him through her lashes. “Thank you.”

Curving an arm around her waist, Tyler pressed a kiss to her hair. She had pinned it up off her neck in an elaborate twist. Curbing the urge to kiss the nape of her neck, he asked, “What’s for dinner?”

Angling her head, Dana bit down on her lower lip. “Come and see.” She led him to the back porch. “I’ve decided we’ll eat here because it’s cooler than the kitchen. I had the oven going for a couple of hours.”

Tyler stared at the inviting space, smiling. Dark-green and white tapers in clear chimneys flickered in the waning daylight. Wisps of sweet peas spilled over the sides of a crystal vase that had a pattern that matched the water goblets and wine glasses. Dana set a beautiful table. She would become the perfect hostess.

Unwrapping the bouquet, Dana rearranged the flowers in the same vase with the sweet pea, the overall
effect romantic and ethereal. Taking a step back, she admired her handiwork, smiling.

“Perfect.”

Tyler wanted to tell her she was perfect—perfect in and out of bed. They returned to the kitchen, and he washed his hands in the small bathroom while Dana busied herself taking a platter with a golden roasted chicken to the porch. He carried several covered serving dishes and a basket covered with a white towel from which came the most tantalizing smell of fresh bread. A pitcher of homemade lemonade, a carafe of chilled Chardonnay, and a bottle of sparkling water completed the beverage selections.

Tyler seated Dana, and then rounded the table to sit down opposite her. Bowing her head, Dana blessed her food. Then Tyler said his own prayer of thanks before making the sign of the cross over his chest.

Dana stared, momentarily shocked. “You’re Catholic.” The question came out like a statement.

He looked at her intently, unblinking. “Yes.”

“There’re generally not too many Catholics in the Bible Belt.”

“I’m Catholic because of my grandmother. She was born in Cuba.”

Dana’s eyes widened with this disclosure. There was so much she didn’t know about the man she’d fallen in love with. “Do you speak Spanish?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Not as often as I’d like, but yes, I do.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“You think so?”

“Of course, Tyler. I’ve always wanted to speak more than one language. Will you teach me?”

He placed his hands, palms down, on the linen tablecloth. “Why should I, Dana, when you’re going to leave in four months?”

She stared at Tyler staring back at her, his expression a mask of stone. He was so still he could’ve been carved out of granite. Dropping her gaze, she picked up her napkin, placing it on her lap.

“You’re right, Tyler. Forgive me for asking.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

Dana registered the sharpness in his retort. “I didn’t invite you here to argue.”

His eyes widened. “I’m not arguing, Dana. I merely stated a fact.”

“A fact I’m very much aware of …”

“A fact you manage to remind me of every damned day of the week,” he retorted angrily, interrupting her.

“How dare you bark at me! Just what is it you want from me?” She’d raised her voice above its normal soothing tone.

“You know what I want.”

“You can’t have what you want, Tyler Cole. Just once in your life you have to face the fact that you can’t have everything you want.”

Pushing back her chair, she stood up and threw her napkin on the table, leaving him to stare at her retreating back. The emotions of frustration and rage singed the edges of her brain when she realized she’d made a mistake becoming involved with Tyler. She’d outlined in advance the terms of their relationship, yet he wanted what he couldn’t have.

Dana stood in the middle of the kitchen, arms around her body, attempting to force her warring emotions into order. There was no way she could give Tyler what he wanted without turning her own world upside down. What about her career, her reputation with the
Chronicle?
Why, she asked herself as she closed her eyes, did men expect women to do all of the giving up, the sacrificing? Whatever happened to compromise?

She detected the scent of his aftershave first, then
the warmth of his large body as he pulled her to his length. He’d come after her.

Tyler tightened his grip on her body. “I’m sorry, Dana.”

She opened her eyes, staring up at him. “Are you really? Or are just saying what you think I want to hear?”

He smiled a smile that did not reach his dark eyes. “I am sorry. I know no other way to say it unless you want me to tell you in Spanish.” Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth over hers, tasting her with light nibbling kisses. He murmured in Spanish, ribald phrases he would never translate for her.

Curving her arms under his shoulders, Dana held onto him like someone drowning in the middle of the ocean. She returned his kisses, her tongue dueling with his. Her anger fled, her thoughts spun, her passion escalated as she was transported to another universe, one in which there could possibly be a happily-ever-after.

Tyler’s mouth was everywhere: her jaw, throat, breasts, and shoulders. Shifting, he nipped the tender skin on the nape of her neck. Her knees buckled and if he hadn’t held her, she would’ve collapsed to the floor.

His lovemaking was frantic and restrained at the same time. His tongue and teeth were as busy as his hands. His fingers plunged into the neckline of her dress, gently massaging her breasts, before they searched under the hem, moving up her thighs. Dana felt his heartbeat pounding against her ear when she collapsed on his chest, moaning as if in pain.

Dana’s moans fired Tyler’s banked passion. He opened his eyes, peering through a haze of red. He blinked to clear his vision, realizing it was Dana’s dress. His hand moved higher and higher, fingers slipping between her legs and finding her wet, hot, and throbbing
with a need that matched the excruciating pulsing between his own thighs.

His hand grazed her tender flesh, Dana pulling away, gasping. He went completely still, his eyes filling with understanding. Resting his forehead on hers, he kissed her parted lips.

“I’m sorry, baby. I forgot you’re still sore there.”

Cradling his face between her hands, Dana pressed her lips over his eyelids. “I know you would never deliberately hurt me,” she whispered.

They held each other until their pulses slowed to a normal rate. Then, on cue, they retreated to bathroom to wash their hands before returning to the porch to eat.

Tyler finished off his second slice of apple pie, rubbing both hands over his belly. “I cook a little,” he said in falsetto, mimicking Dana.

“I do cook a little.”

Lowering his chin, he smiled, shaking his head in astonishment. “Perhaps you don’t cook very often, but you definitely can cook.”

He’d had two servings of everything: roast chicken, candied sweet potatoes, collard greens, homemade rolls, and deep-dish apple pie for dessert.

Their former confrontation forgotten, he told Dana everything about himself—everything except his family’s business enterprises and his own personal worth. Other than family members, only his close friends from medical school were aware that the moment he drew breath for the first time, it was documented that he’d come into a five-million-dollar trust fund on the day he celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday.

“You haven’t written anything down,” he said as she rested her chin in one hand, listening to him talk.

“I usually don’t have to. I’ll remember the important facts.”

“Do you have a photographic memory?”

She shook her head. “No, just excellent concentration.”

The sun had set, night had fallen, and nocturnal sounds were magnified in the velvety darkness. Some of the candles had burned out, while others sputtered and hissed behind the glass chimneys. Closing her eyes, Dana hummed along with a song playing on the radio from a station that featured oldies from the past four decades.

“Please dance with me,” he said.

She opened her eyes to find Tyler standing beside her. She hadn’t heard him get up. Placing her hand in his outstretched one, she permitted him to pull her to her feet. Walking over to an open space on the porch, she folded against his body in a gentle embrace.

Rocking gently, he sang in her ear. She smiled against his cheek. He had a wonderful singing voice. He was halfway through the song when she decided to listen to the lyrics. It was Aretha Franklin’s “Ain’t No Way.” Tyler sang with such passion and conviction that she felt his pain as surely as if it were her own.

He loved her! The man truly loved her, while she’d balked at finding happiness because of a career—a job! She could find a position with any paper she chose because of her credentials and prior experience. After all, she had been a part of an award-winning Pulitzer team.

Pressing closer, she tightened her hold on his neck. She couldn’t disguise the shudder that shook her from to toe. “Tyler?”

“What is it, baby?”

She shuddered again as his warm breath swept over an ear. “What do you really want from me?”

“You know what I want.”

“Say it!”

He shook his head. “No.”

“This is no time to be mule-headed. You better tell me now, Tyler Cole, before I lose my nerve.”

He cradled her face between his large hands, staring down at the moisture filling her eyes. “I want you to love me, Dana. Love me as much I love you. I want you live with me, marry me, and bear my children. And I want you to trust me enough to protect you and the children we hope to bring into this world. I know I’m asking a lot, but that’s what I want from you.”

Dana smiled, her tears overflowing and wetting his fingers. “It’s not too much to ask. I’m going to give you everything you’ve asked for and then some.”

Tyler looked at Dana, utter disbelief freezing his features. Dana had just agreed to everything he’d wanted and felt since meeting her for the time, and he was just standing there staring at her like a stunned mute. She rested her head on his chest, breaking the spell.

Bending slightly, he picked her up, cradling her to his chest. “I’ll make certain you’ll never regret this moment.” Feeling a sense of bottomless peace and satisfaction, he swung her around and around until she pleaded with him to stop. Waiting until the spinning subsided, he set her on her feet. She was still clinging to him like a frightened child.

Laughing, she buried her face against his shoulder. “You know you’re crazy.”

“Oh, yeah! Crazy about you, baby.”

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