It's in the Rhythm (5 page)

As he was finishing up, he spotted Trinity sitting at the bar. He took in her long legs, one crossed over the other, as she lifted the glass to her lips. She tipped her head back and swallowed. He couldn't tear his gaze from her profile, and a delightful tremor of arousal ran through him.

As he headed in her direction, Lil' Jon's “Get Low” filled the club. A large number of people crowded the dance floor, singing, dancing, and waving their hands in the air.

Trinity smiled when she looked up and saw Garrett coming toward her. She guessed the meeting with Collin went well. She still couldn't believe she kissed him the way she did. Call it temporary insanity or being caught up in the moment. No matter what she called it, she enjoyed it, and she was looking forward to more of it.

When he reached her, the DJ was playing Usher's “Yeah.”

“Would you like to dance?” he asked.

She nodded, set her glass down, and placed her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor.

Garrett's body moved with ease to the beat. Watching him dance, she couldn't help but wonder if he moved so smoothly in bed. As the music swirled around her, Garrett moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. Their dance was seductive, their bodies speaking a forbidden language only they understood.

Trinity leaned back against the length of his body, then reached up and gently touched the side of his face. He responded by kissing the palm of her hand.

The music slowed down and Garrett turned her around in his arms until they faced each other.

She fit perfectly in his embrace, her head resting on his chest as they slow danced. Although the music was playing, she could easily hear his heart beating. She followed his steps, her thoughts running rampant. Was it possible that she was wrong in insisting that they remain friends? Her heart was telling her that she was.

Waves of longing and desire took over her body. “Let's go to my place,” she said softly.

Garrett kissed her. “You get no argument from me.” He took her hand and headed for the exit.

* * *

The door closed and doubts assailed Trinity. She wanted to be with Garrett in the worst way. She enjoyed kissing him. Garrett was the best kisser she'd ever known. His lips were persuasive. Kissing him could lead to other things—things she wanted to share with her husband, within the bonds of marriage.

Garrett stood watching her. She was nervous. He figured she was having second thoughts. He understood. She was a beautiful and desirable woman. No matter how long it took, he'd wait.

“We don't have to do anything.”

“I'm acting like a silly schoolgirl.”

Garrett lifted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. “No, you're not.”

She had to tell him how she felt about sex. Garrett was a hot-blooded male with a strong sexual appetite. She owed him the truth.

She cleared her throat. “I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me later.” Slowly, Garrett pulled her into his arms, bending his head for a kiss.

She was a goner. Closing her eyes, she sighed and leaned into him.

Garrett took his time tasting and probing her mouth, nipping like she was a piece of candy.

One arm locked around her waist, he deepened the kiss, taking her on a slow, agonizing ride into passion, leaving her burning with fire as he backed her against the wall.

Trinity felt Garrett's hardness against her. The kiss continued, hotter, hungrier, until Garrett's breathing was ragged. He ran his hands over her body and her emotions swirled and skidded as she melted against him.

Trinity moaned, sliding her arms around his neck. She couldn't get enough of him.

Garrett held her hips, molding her softness against his rigid hardness. She whimpered as he began to move against her with the same rhythm as his tongue inside her mouth.

Her body was on fire. She wanted Garrett. She wanted him now. She wanted his hands on her body, her hands on his.

He must have felt the same. He reached up and closed a hand over her breast. She heard him whimper in frustration. His hand moved under her dress to skim her thighs, then moved inside her panties, touching her treasure.

“Garrett, wait.”

His eyes flew open and he stared into Trinity's eyes. She could see him fighting for control.

“I'm sorry, Trinity. I lost my head.”

“I want to wait,” she stammered.

“You have the right to wait until you feel comfortable.” His mouth recaptured hers.

Here goes
, she thought. “That's not what I mean, Garrett.”

Garrett lifted his head, giving her his undivided attention. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I want to wait until I'm married. The next man I lay down with will be my husband.”

Garrett stepped back.

Trinity stared into his face, unable to read his expression.

“Garrett, say something,” she prompted. She hated not knowing what he was thinking. In the past, she was able to read him. At the moment, he was doing a good job of hiding his emotions.

“It's okay,” he said at last. “Just give me a minute to…adjust.”

“You're not angry?” she asked softly.

He frowned. “Why should I be?”

“I gave you the impression we were going to make love.” She made a flip-flop motion with her hands.

“I admit I didn't expect to hear this from you after we…” he cleared his throat, “…almost made love.”

“I had to tell you how I feel.”

“I'm glad you did.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

“It's not modern thinking today, but it's how I feel.”

He took a deep breath. “No, it isn't.” He had to accept the fact he wasn't going to make love to her tonight, or any night. “I have to accept it.”

“You keep saying that.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Trinity realized this was hard on Garrett. She asked him to bring her home, giving him the impression they were going to make love. He wanted her. She wanted him. But she wanted more.

Men had a tendency to think with the lower part of their anatomy, building relationships based on how the women performed in bed. Women did it, too, but the majority of women thought with their hearts. At the moment, hers was beating irregularly because she didn't know where she stood with Garrett.

“Is that the only thing you want from me? Sex?”

Garrett's eyes widened. He shook his head in disbelief. “I can't believe you asked me that. You know me better than that.”

“Do I know you?”

“What does that mean?”

“I'm sure Imani will be more than willing to give you what you can't get from me.”

Garrett looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. He stepped closer, searching her face for an explanation.

“Where did that come from? Earlier, when we were in the club, you weren't thinking about Imani. When you invited me home, kissing me, touching me, letting me touch you, you weren't thinking about Imani. Were you?”

Before she had a chance to answer, Garrett silenced her with a wave of his hand.

“No, you weren't. This is not about Imani, and you know it.” He raised her chin to look at him. “I respect you wanting to wait until marriage. But I don't appreciate you trying to deny that you didn't want me tonight as much as I wanted you.” He pressed his lips to hers. “And it wasn't as a friend.”

Chapter 6

Garrett drove away from Trinity's home, still reeling from what happened between them. One minute he was kissing and caressing her. The next she was saying that she was saving herself for her husband. He didn't have a problem with her decision to abstain. He just wished she'd informed him before she allowed them to get so worked up.

He admired her for wanting to save herself for marriage. Lord knows he heard about fornication. His father preached against it on numerous occasions. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He hadn't been obedient to the scripture, and he wished Trinity hadn't either.

Disappointed, Garrett didn't feel like going home and found himself in front of his father's church. He pulled into the almost empty parking lot.

A twenty-four-hour ministry, the James Martindale AME Church in Columbia, Maryland, had been in existence for over sixty years and was founded by his great-grandfather, James Martindale. It had a congregation of more than four thousand members. The church had various social ventures, four subsidiary corporations, church administration offices, schools, over forty ministries, and several hundred dedicated people who made up its workforce. Many staff members worked to meet the needs of the community.

Strolling into the building, Garrett headed for the piano. He sat down and began playing nothing in particular. Music always calmed his spirit when he was troubled.

“Yeah,” he crooned. “Oh, happy day.”

“Oh Happy Day” was the first song he'd learned as a child. He was four years old and begged his father to let him sing a solo for the Easter program. His father gave in, and Garrett received a standing ovation.

Garrett wasn't nervous at all about singing in front of the congregation; he knew he belonged on stage. His father taught him to play the drums, guitar, and piano. That talent was instrumental in his becoming the youngest music director in the area. He formed the Youth and Praise Choir. The choir sang songs of praise in various styles of music, including traditional, gospel, and contemporary.

“I thought I heard someone out here,” Pastor Martindale said, standing at the edge of the round stage.

“I didn't know you were here. I figured you had already gone home.”

Pastor Martindale, a tall, slim man, could easily pass for a man in his late thirties instead of his forty-seven years. “Then you wouldn't have to talk to me. Is that it?”

Here we go again,
Garrett thought. “No, Dad, that wasn't it.”

“You've been walking around me since you been home,” Pastor Martindale said.

“Just trying to keep the peace.”

“I don't like feeling uncomfortable in my own home.”

Garrett stopped playing the piano. He stood. “Would you like for me to leave?”

“Did I say that?”

“No. But you wanted to.”

The pastor drew in a deep breath.
Garrett can be so stubborn,
he thought. He wondered where he got it from; his wife would tell him to look in the mirror for the answer.

“Why are you putting words in my mouth?” he asked. “Have I ever asked you to leave?” Pastor Martindale lifted his brow as he studied his son. Garrett was sulking. “This is your home. Whenever you're home, your mother and I don't have to worry about you.”

“You don't have to worry about me when I'm not home.”

Pastor Martindale walked up the small set of stairs onto the stage. “Parents never stop worrying about their children, even after they're grown. Matter of fact, that's when they worry about them the most. You're out in California. Lord knows what you're doing out there, or with whom you're running around.”

“I'm not running around. Give me some credit to know the difference between right and wrong.”

Pastor Martindale placed the black briefcase on top of the piano. “If you knew the difference between right and wrong, you wouldn't be singing that worldly music. People bumping and grinding all over each other, leading to God knows what. I taught you to make a joyful noise unto the Lord, not Satan.”

Garrett nodded in agreement. “Yes, you did. I still make a joyful noise to the Lord.”

“You can't serve two masters, son.”

Garrett wasn't in the mood to argue with his father. They'd had this conversation a thousand times. Nothing was going to change. He loved singing secular music as much as he did singing gospel. He loved singing, period.

“Father, we've been over this. I know how you feel. I give God praise for blessing me with the musical talent to reach people through my music. It's true you taught me to make a joyful noise to the Lord, but you also taught me to follow my own heart, be my own man. That's what I'm doing,” Garrett said, placing a hand to his chest, “being my own man.”

“I see there's no point talking to you.” Pastor Martindale looked at Garrett through hooded eyes. “I'll leave it alone.” He pointed at his son. “For now.”

“What are you doing here so late?” Garrett asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Making arrangements for the Gospel Explosion. The Praise and Worship Choir has been invited to sing.”

The Gospel Explosion was an annual event that hosted the best gospel artists and choirs in inspirational music. Garrett had never been invited to participate.

Garrett beamed. “Congratulations,” he said. “When is it? Where is it?”

Garrett knew his father still had big plans for the Praise and Worship Choir. Their latest CD,
The Living Word
, had done well, but sales had dropped off since he left the choir.

“Atlanta,” Pastor Martindale sighed. “In three weeks. A choir cancelled. I received a phone call asking if we were interested in performing.”

“Of course you said yes.”

“Of course. We don't have as many strong singers as we once did.” He gave Garrett a sympathetic look.

Garrett smiled. It would give him another reason to stay in town.

“So, what do you say?”

“God is in the plan.”

“He always is,” Pastor Martindale agreed.

* * *

“Hold up, Trinity.”

Jogging in place, Trinity turned around to see Leigh bending over at the waist, taking deep breaths.

“Come on, girl, we still have two laps to go,” Trinity said. “You can make it.”

Leigh responded by shooing Trinity away.

Trinity took off at a steady pace, jogging around the school track. She was doing her best to erase all traces of what had almost happened between her and Garrett.

“I don't see how you do it,” Leigh said as Trinity completed the last lap.

“Three times a week,” Trinity said. “It's easy once your body gets used to it.” She began stretching to cool her body down.

“I should be in good shape. I chase two small children around all week and work a full-time job.”

They both laughed.

“Whew!” Leigh fanned herself. “That last lap almost killed me.” She glanced at Trinity. “What's going on? You look like you've got something heavy on your mind.”

Trinity looked at Leigh. “Nothing.”

“Come on, Trinity.” Leigh placed her hands on her hips. “I know you well enough to know when something is on your mind. Is it Garrett?”

“What makes you think it's Garrett?” she asked as they walked toward their cars.

“Just a hunch.” Leigh said. “By the way, how was the picnic?”

Trinity managed a bland smile. She knew Leigh was trying to get her to open up. Evidently Garrett's appearance at the school with picnic basket in hand caused Leigh's imagination to kick into overtime.

Leigh grinned mischievously. “Come on, give. Don't leave anything out.”

“There is nothing to tell.”

“Whatever you say.” They'd reached their cars. “Well, if you need a shoulder, call me.”

“Thanks.”

Leigh carefully eased her body in the driver's seat. “I'm going home, take a nice hot bath, and then allow my husband to give me a full body massage. Every muscle in my body aches.” She closed the door.

Trinity waved and watched Leigh drive off before getting into her own car. She wished she had someone to do the same thing for her.

She glanced at her watch. She had enough time to go home, shower, and make it to her hair appointment with Lucas.

* * *

“Heard you had dinner with Garrett Martindale,” Lucas said as he draped the black plastic cape around her shoulders.

The technician next to Lucas, Starr, peeked over to hear Trinity's response, then nudged the client in her chair, whose mouth gaped open.

Trinity was caught off guard by Lucas's comment. Obviously news traveled fast around town.

He wove his fingers through Trinity's hair.

“My source tells me you two have been spending a lot of time together.”

“Your source is wrong.” Her tone was dismissive.

He leaned her head back into the shampoo sink. “He's usually on target. Did you go out with him?”

Trinity ignored his questions.

“Hrump. I'd love to go out with him,” Starr chimed in. “Then tell everybody who'd listen.”

“I know that's right,” her client added. “Can you get a sistah an autograph?”

“Forget the autograph. Can I get him?” another woman asked.

“Amen,” Starr quipped.

Though Trinity and Garrett weren't a couple, the last thing she wanted to hear about was other women's attraction to him.

Thirty minutes later Trinity moved over to the nail station, where she got a manicure and pedicure. By the time she arrived home it was six o'clock.

When she got home, she saw that her father had left a message, and so she called him back.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Hi, pumpkin. How are you doing?”

“I'm fine. I couldn't be better.”

“I haven't spoken to you in a couple of days,” he said.

“I know. I plan to stop by tomorrow after church,” she responded.

“Then I will see you in church tomorrow.”

“I'll be there. I love you.”

“I love you, too, pumpkin.”

Trinity smiled as she hung up the phone. He hadn't called her “pumpkin” in a long time. She changed into a pair of black shorts and a T-shirt. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, so she went into the kitchen and inspected the contents of the pantry. There was nothing there she could cook in a hurry.

She found a frozen dinner in the freezer and popped it into the microwave.

While she waited for the dinner to heat, she went into the living room and got her students' test papers from the manila folder she'd brought home. She'd given a pop quiz today and wanted to see the scores.

She placed the stack of papers on the dining room table. It was going to be a long night. That was fine with her. She wouldn't have time to think about Garrett. He should be on his way to Los Angeles and back into the arms of Imani, who was more than willing to fulfill his sexual needs.

Somewhere around 11 p.m. Trinity fell asleep on the sofa. She woke up early Sunday morning, took a shower, had breakfast, and left for church.

She spotted her father escorting Mrs. Rose to a pew on the front row. He gave Trinity a wide grin as she took a seat.

The congregation poured in and the Praise and Worship Choir took their seats. A few minutes later, Pastor Martindale strolled into the pulpit, followed by his assistant, and Garrett brought up the rear, dressed in a choir robe.

Trinity was pleasantly surprised to see Garrett take a seat at the piano. She thought he'd already left town.
Maybe he was leaving later on today,
she thought. Garrett motioned for the members to stand. Her father turned toward her, obviously pleased that Garrett was leading the choir. She smiled weakly.

The choir sung “Made Up Mind,” originally done by John P. Kee and the New Life Community Choir. The words reached out and touched the hearts of everyone in the building. Garrett rode the spiritual wave moving throughout the room, singing with such conviction that the entire church was shouting and dancing in the aisles.

Listening to him, Trinity couldn't help but think that it didn't matter for whom Garrett performed; he was truly talented.

After the choir performed, Pastor Martindale walked to the pulpit, gave Garrett a nod of approval, and then waited until the congregation calmed down before he spoke.

“Praise the Lord,” he began in his deep voice. “My son, my son,” he said, shaking his head and still beaming at Garrett. He paused for dramatic effect. “What can I say? You got them fired up for the Lord, now it's time to save some souls.”

Amens echoed throughout the congregation.

Trinity stood and waved her hand in mid-air in approval; she knew bringing souls to the Lord was Pastor Martindale's mission. After Garrett's fiery performance, she was sure he'd accomplished that this morning.

The service continued with sermons, Bible readings, testimonials, and some people giving their lives to the Lord.

After the service Trinity mingled for a few minutes, making sure she avoided direct contact with Garrett. Their eyes met a couple of times, but she quickly looked away. He didn't come over to speak; she had to admit she was disappointed.

Trinity pulled up in front of her father's house thirty minutes later, and she was surprised to find another car parked next to his in the driveway. Since her mother's death, Lyle didn't entertain many guests at his home.

“Come on in, pumpkin,” Lyle said, standing in the doorway. He was grinning from ear to ear. He gave her a tight hug, kissing her on the forehead.

Trinity walked inside and stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes fell upon Gail Lynch, a middle-aged, dark haired Caucasian woman who had been a member of the church for many years and worked with her father with the Youth Ministry.

“Hello, Gail,” Trinity said, trying her best to mask her surprise. “How are you?”