In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (37 page)

Ezra strolled in with a serving tray topped with food. My stomach growled as he neared. He didn’t speak when he repositioned me to sit up in his arm, and neither did I. I also didn’t protest when he fed me dinner. I was starved and completely stripped of all dignity since succumbing to an orgasm I had to beg for. I ate white hard dough bread swiped in gravy, sopping all the sauce from his fingers like a savage. It had Ms. Remah written all over it.
Sooooo good!
He gave me water from a glass that I gulped with gladness; mouth was so dry. Ezra hardly resembled the relentless dom he was less than an hour ago.   

“I regret you had to experience that soon-to-be-debunked group today,” he rasped with cool authority. “I can assure you I will address all the players, and that you don’t have to be concerned about job security.”

His mention of that church shit ruined my appetite. I’d almost cleaned the plate. I hoped he hadn’t planned on sharing it. I stirred to leave his hold, but Ezra firmed up his grip, making a motion for me to stay.

“And?” I managed, my voice coarse.

He placed the tray on the floor next to the bed and turned back to pull me closer into his chest.

“And you don’t have to worry about reporting to Precious. You’ll be reporting to Ann Bethea.”

I tensed in his arms. Ezra felt it and looked down at me.

“And what about her being your…” I didn’t know what to call her. Did they have names?

“I can assure you I’ve never been a part of that ring. I had an inkling of its existence, but because I didn’t marry until recently, I had no reason to really look into it.”

And then came the burning question. Something I couldn’t look over. “Who is Marva to your father?” I whispered with little confidence.

Ezra swallowed, his eyes fixed ahead. “Marva Graham is my father’s mistress. They’ve been in a relationship that I can’t pretend to understand, for more than twenty years, close to thirty. As you now know, my mother is privy to the nature of their relationship, but has chosen to turn a blind eye to it. It’s not the most stellar feature of the church but, I promise that is not a lifestyle you have to be concerned about taking on. You’ll never have to share me with anyone. I am aware of the strange dynamic between Precious and me,” he admitted. “But it has always been managed because I’ve not been remotely intimate with her since my undergrad years. I’ve made it clear I am no longer interested. She’s only pushed the issue since you’ve come into my life. And even then I made it clear that I was not, neither will I ever be interested in any type of relationship with her outside of
Redeeming Souls
.”

He gazed down at me, offering his truth in his eyes. And I took it without reservation. It relieved me tremendously. An obsessed former lover, I could deal with. A mistress, I couldn’t. The weighty hollowness of my chest had been lifted, and instantly I was reminded of the magnetic pull Ezra had with me. He didn’t want a mistress, and my job wasn’t a hoax. I exhaled long and hard, my diaphragm seemingly under control. 

I lifted from his chest, my face tight. “What are you doing home on a Thursday night? Why aren’t you teaching Bible class?” A spike of panic ran through me.

Ezra snorted softly, clearly amused. He swiped the strip of my eyebrow. “I’ve assigned the night to one of my ministers. Your starting your new job presaged my need of being home tonight rather than my normal schedule.”

Then something else hit me. “How is it that you made it home before me when you left after me? You didn’t work either?”

Ezra not working?

He nodded, a balm of calm coating him. “I worked from home so I could see you off and receive you this evening, beloved,” he rasped softly, pulling up the sheets to cover my back.

The gesture of changing his schedule and the act of him looking out for me warmed me, and apparently deluded me, too. All of this was a parody of…

“Why did you change your schedule for me, Ezra?” I whispered so softly, I could barely hear myself.

I was unbelievably desperate for the
right
answer. The one that would make a hell of a lot more sense than most of the peculiar shit he did with his mood swings.

“Because you belong to me, kitten.” He exhaled, and I could sense his exhaustion. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

I belonged to him. That declaration warmed me like nothing else. I pulled the side of his beard to lower him down to my face. He obliged and I kissed him, pouring my regrets down his throat. My tongue moved wildly and my breathing had turned the same. His tongue was smooth and slick against my mouth. I sucked in his lip, letting the hairs of his face abrade my chin. Ezra let me take his mouth, displaying a rare act of submitting to me. Suddenly, I was aroused again and pushed at the sheets to free my body so I could straddle him.

Ezra abruptly yanked at the sheet from behind my back with his left hand. That woke me from my aroused spell.

“Not after your wild production this evening,” he informed with hooded eyes and yet a firm resolve.

A dagger lodged in my chest.

I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about that,” I whispered, in unidentifiable pain.

“And for bringing hard liquor in my home? I’m a man of God, Alexis. My home is holy.”

My lip quivered. Panic returned, this time at his fleeting grace. Ezra was shutting me out.

“I’m sorry about that, too,” I murmured in a hush.

“And spitting in my face?”

I didn’t actually spit.
But you would have if he didn’t stop you
.

My eyes pooled with tears as I studied his resolute face.

“I’m sorry,” my voice fell and I immediately tried to swallow back my cry.

Ezra took me at the side of my face with his right hand and caressed my skin as he pierced me with a determined gaze.

“And I accept,” he rasped, eyeing me closely. I swallowed hard. “But I need to forgive you, and that’ll take more than a rash reaction to my confrontation.”

Those words sheared through me, knocking down every ounce of confidence and security he’d restored since we left the shower. After searching his eyes for seconds long, mine fell in inferiority. Along with being ashamed, I was hurt.

Ezra assisted me upstairs to our bedroom and tucked me in. When I realized it was close to eleven and he wasn’t getting in bed with me; I sulked. He turned down the lights and closed the door behind him leaving me alone in obscurity of the darkness of the room and confusion in my mind.

~Lex~

The next morning I was awakened by my alarm. Disoriented, I searched the bed to confirm I was alone. I couldn’t have expected Ezra to be there; he had to return to work at the lab. I still couldn’t believe he delayed it a day to be home when I finished my first day at work. Guilt began pouring in at that and so did the memories of yesterday. My stomach twisted and I felt like shit.

“And I accept, but I need to forgive you, and that’ll take more than a rash reaction to my confrontation.”
His words echoed in my head.

I tried to spit in my husband’s face!

Ezra came to bed at some point last night because I recalled him pulling back the comforter to rub my wrists and ankles with a cream. As I stretched them out in the bed I could see they were achy, but I would still be able to get through the day. Slowly, I turned for the floor and carefully gained the balance on my feet. I still had remnants of tenderness from two nights ago, at the club.

After getting dressed, I headed downstairs. I could hear movement in the kitchen. Was it Ezra? I bit my lip as my pulse raced. I assumed he’d left for the day already. I toed lightly into the kitchen afraid of who I’d see. It was Ms. Remah, standing over the sink, holding a dish rag.

“I need to pack me tings?” she asked, her back to me.

There was that pang that rang through my belly again.

I shook my head hard before assuring, “No!” though I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

Did Ezra threaten that when I wasn’t around?
He did refer to this place as
his
house several times last night.    

“I’m old, Lexi. The air here is good fuh me.” Then her eyes appeared on me.

She was pleading with me to fly right on this with Ezra. Ms. Remah hadn’t wanted to move up here. More than anything she wanted to look out for me. She knew I was making an impulsive decision by marrying a man I’d only known for months, but her loyalty to me was that sound. Not to mention, I’d taken her perceived sage advice seriously. I brought us up here while we were both financially compromised. We had nowhere to go besides to my apartment in Harlem, and that presented another set of issues: Rasul. I couldn’t drop the ball. Not after being so close to financial independence.

“We’re fine. You’re fine! You have nothing to worry about but taking your meds and relaxing,” I promised. “I swear on my mother’s grave; you’ll never have to worry about food or housing as long as I have breath in my body.”

After a pregnant pause, she tutted and hissed, “I nuh on yuh tit, Lexi!” and turned her back to me.

I took that as my dismissal and started toward the garage. Traffic was manageable once again and I made it in on time. My stomach was still in knots, now about the prospect of running into Precious. She’d gotten one off on me yesterday, and it would be difficult to endure her today if she tried again. I wasn’t raised to run from trouble. Yet I only knew one way to handle it. The problem was my method of addressing could land me in jail, fired, divorced, and homeless. I couldn’t risk that, but hadn’t gathered a resolve to avoid it.

My morning sped by fairly quickly. With the help of Ann, I was able to get an idea of all the services
Christ Cares
offered.  I used that information and came up with my own plan of expanding their programs and strengthening what had already been done, which was little. The case management was a joke. An occasional power bill being paid each year was laughable. There were coat and back-to-school drives that were held annually as well as Thanksgiving and Christmas meals provided; however with the resources the church was sitting on, these were meager offerings.

By noon, I’d finished wrapping up a call with a contact from the city that was able to fit me in for a meeting this afternoon about making
Christ Cares
a partner for many of their programs for the underserved in the city. The borough was inundated in case management, and would love to alleviate their workload to improve on their numbers. It was just a matter of beginning the process of making us a viable partner. They wouldn’t just unload their poor on anyone. It would take some time, but we had to get started. I had to get started.

I started to lock my computer when there was a knock at my door. I glanced up to find a big figure in a three-piece suit, towering with hard eyes. My breath caught in my chest as I straightened in my seat. Ezra sauntered in holding a small brown shopping bag.
DiFillippo’s
was etched on it. My stomach growled at that recognition. But damn the food. His thick brows, wonderfully manicured beard, and broadness in his suit had me swallowing hard. I fucking liquidated at the sight of Ezra in three-piece suits. I had no idea of the power it had over me, but it held something sensual. I pulled my lips in to hide my thoughts.

“Afternoon, Alexis,” he rasped, eyes locked on me.

I checked the time. “Good afternoon, Mr. Carmichael.”

I miraculously recalled his preference. I didn’t want to fuck this up. It was bad enough that nervous bitterness coated my tongue.

Ezra placed the bag on my desk. “This is for you to eat and not waste like you did my oatmeal yesterday.” My eyes went wild. I forgot about the oatmeal that was left in the car from yesterday.

Shit! I have to throw it out.

“Don’t worry. I discarded it this morning.” There he was again, reading my thoughts. “While I expected a dedicated employee here, I would prefer a well-nourished wife at home.” His eyes squinted in further communication. “Eat,” Ezra ordered just over a whisper.

I swallowed again. Licking my lips saturated in unexplained anxiety, I nodded barely.

“Lex.” My body quietly jolted as I peered behind his big frame. Ezra turned to look over his shoulder, too. It was Kim Baker. She referred to me by my preferred name. Religious organizations loved titles; the poor and misfortunate needed ordinary people. “You said you wanted me to come somewhere with you?”

I emailed her, requesting she take the meetings this afternoon with me. She was the only person on my team who had worked for the city recently and I figured the more familiar faces to them the better.

My eyes shot up at Ezra as he turned back to me for my response. I glanced over to the
DiFillippo’s
bag on my desk. It’s funny how before he strolled in here, I had no feelings of hunger. I missed breakfast, but grabbed coffee and had felt satiated until now.

Kim’s regard bounced between Ezra and me. My eyes faltered as I scraped my bottom lip and pulled the bag closer to me.

“Yes. If we can meet in the lobby in twenty minutes… I’d like you to come with me down to the city offices for a meeting. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet,” she answered.

“Think you can within that timeframe?”

“Yeah. I brought lunch today.”

“Cool.” I nodded.

Kim turned to leave and so did Ezra. Why was he leaving?

Do you want him to stay?

I didn’t know, but called for him anyway.

“Uh… Mr. Carmichael?”

Ezra stopped quickly yet smoothly and turned toward me, his thick brows hiked.

I swallowed, my eyes dancing all around again before I forced myself to ‘face’ him. He was my husband after all. We stared at each other for some time. This exchange was different. It wasn’t the usual warring; it was an attempt to understand the other party. Him, asking why I’d stopped him, and me, questioning where we were after last night. I didn’t want a war. I wanted to be on the second day of my employment, grateful for the opportunity and preparing to set
RSfALC
social services wing right. I wanted to leave for and return from work each day like yesterday; with him anticipating me proudly.

When I didn’t see a sign of that man in his eyes, I assumed I’d lost the battle and I continued with the bag of food, pulling out aluminum containers.

“Thanks for coming all the way into the city to bring me lunch,” I muttered.

I knew he had pushed back his time in the lab more than he’d originally planned. It was a thoughtful gesture. One of many that confused me about who Ezra really was.

“You’re welcome, Alexis, but I was scheduled to be here anyway. I’m moving in today.” My eyes shot up to him. “We’re clearing out the office to prepare for my new furniture. I plan to be around weekly.”

My mouth hung open as I processed what he was saying. I wouldn’t be reporting to Precious and Ezra would be around, so no more harassment from her and he’d be in his own office and not hers, as she claimed yesterday.

That relieved me, lightened my heavy shoulders about facing her again. But when he resumed his exit from my office, I realized he said nothing to cure the unrelenting toil of guilt in my belly.

~Lex~

“And this is Carolyn Seaport. She’s the president of this fine organization!” Mary beamed as she introduced me to yet another significant figure in this ginormous ballroom affair.

I reached for her hand and noticed immediately her tone was a stark contrast to my ebony. Her shake was light, and hand cold and delicate.

“Lex, it’s so wonderful to meet you!” she exclaimed to the same degree as my mother-in-law. Her ocean blue eyes bouncing with merriment. “Congratulations on your nuptials! And now that Ezra will be taking over, I look forward to getting to know you!” That shrunk my perception of Carolyn’s hospitality—and that of her three cohorts, whose hands I’d just finished shaking.

I shook that nasty thought from my head. To prepare me for this affair, Ezra made sure to mention I shouldn’t be overly-preoccupied about racism at events of this caliber. He said the only color they recognized was green because it advanced their cause. They didn’t care who it came from.

“Thanks, Carolyn. Let’s see if Mary passes the torch.” I motioned to the screen at the front of the room where they gave a presentation. “With accomplishments like that, I don’t see her support from
Girls Not Brides
retiring.” I returned her smile.

“We’ll see,” she gleamed. “I love that gown, by the way. It’s gorgeous!”

That made me blush for real. Thank God I was too dark to tell as the group of women moved on from our table, dispersing into the grand ballroom. I glanced down at my lap, admiring the navy blue tube top mermaid gown Elle helped me select during our shopping spree. It was another item Ezra wanted me to get for this event. It had arrived to the house the following day from a
JAGMisha
fashion club. I’d never heard of it, but liked their online selections.

I glanced up to find Mary’s toothless grin. She was really a beautiful woman. Ezra had gotten much of his facial bone structure from her, especially in his cheeks. They were high, and thankfully because it allowed me to catch his humor, as rare as it was that he’d express it. She was a tad lighter than his toasted chestnut complexion. Mary was a thin woman, of average height. But something about her appearance tonight stuck out.

“I’m so happy to have my first outing with you as my daughter-in-love.” She winked at me.

I wasn’t buying it. I still hadn’t forgotten about discovering her alternative lifestyle earlier this week. How could I? It exposed a weakness in her I would’ve never detected otherwise. Yeah, her husband had a nasty temper I would’ve had to chin check—or have one of the goons from the block do for me when he got out of control. But I didn’t judge her for that the day she left our house shaking from embarrassment because his beef with Ezra that day—that I still didn’t understand. No, it was learning that she knowingly shared her husband with another woman that killed much of the respect I was able to muster for Mary Carmichael.