Losing to Win (5 page)

“Good luck,” she said simply and slid off the stool to place her empty bottle in a recycling container in the pantry.

“Do you mean it?” After everything we'd been and done to each other, I still wanted her approval. She was Carissa. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

“I do. I know how bad you want it. I hope you get a chance to win the ring.”

I'd gotten this far; I decided to wade in a little deeper. “What will this do to us?”

She spun around quickly. “Us? What us? What are we?”

I stood up and walked toward her. “I don't know what we are exactly, but I don't think we're done.”

“My life is here. With the money from this ridiculous show, I'm going to start that college prep and mentoring program for teens. I'm going to fix up this house, finish the garden. I'm going to help Ruby expand the restaurant. I'm going to—”

“I got it. You have plans. Right here. Plans that don't include me anymore.” I took a step closer. “What if I wanted to be part of those plans?” I put my hands on her shoulders and drew her against me. She was stiff, but she wasn't pushing me away. After a few minutes, I felt her relax and lean into me.

“In what way, exactly?”

“I don't know, Carissa. But what if I wanted back in your life, in some form or capacity. What would you say to that?”

“I'd say it's going to be some time before I allow myself to care about what you want again.”

That stung, but I wrapped my arms around her and held tight. “Okay, what about what you want? Have you missed me at all? Just a little bit? Maybe at night sometimes when you're listening to Maxwell before you go to sleep? You still do that?”

She leaned back and looked up at me. “What are you doing, Mal?”

“Testing something. I'm curious. I wonder . . . Just let me check something right quick, okay?” Before she could answer, I leaned down and covered her lips with mine. I pressed once and then twice before coaxing her mouth open. We both groaned as our tongues meshed together. It was like coming home after a long journey and finding it better than you remember. We slowly rediscovered the licks and laps that took our breath away. I'd forgotten how small she was against me. How soft. God, she smelled good. She felt good. Her perfect lips and tongue teased mine and awakened sensations long dormant. We slid into each other with comfort, delight, and hunger. Everything was familiar, yet different. One thing hadn't changed: one taste of Carissa Wayne and I wanted more. I wanted everything she had to give.

Her arms slid around my middle and up my back as I pulled her even closer. Christ, it was like she was made to fit perfectly in my arms. Had it always felt this way... so destined? God, she smelled good, like vanilla and flowers. Pressed against me, she felt amazing. Why had I ever let this go?

Without breaking the kiss, I backed her against the counter and slid my hand down her side, curving around her rear and down her thigh. I cupped the back of her knees and lifted her up. She wrapped those long legs around me as I set her down on the counter so we fit even tighter together. I couldn't resist grinding against her once just to see how that felt again. Perfection.

Her head fell back. “Malachi.”

“Right here, babe.” I kissed a trail down her jaw and along her neck, resting my lips against the fluttering pulse at the base and licking lightly. She shuddered in my arms.

“What are we doing?” she whispered before wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me with more heat and passion than I remembered. I was seconds from going up in flames and taking her right there on the kitchen counter.

“That's what we're wondering,” a deep male voice said from behind us.

With a groan, I recognized my brother's voice. Sighing with regret, I leaned back and tilted my head to the side. Taylor; Mac; his brother, Burke; and my brother, Meshach, all stood in the arched doorway to the kitchen with varying expressions of amusement and dismay.

Meshach glanced at his watch. “Took you two almost eight hours to start groping each other like you're back under the bleachers in high school after a pep rally. Some things never change.”

I looked back at Carissa to gauge her reaction. To my relief, she had her hand clapped over her mouth and a few giggles escaped. “Jesus, I can NOT be trusted around you. Stay at least five paces back!” She pushed me away and hopped down from the counter. “So, beyond the entertainment, what are y'all doing here?”

Burke walked over and gave Carissa a hug. “Good to see you, girl. We're here to take you out for your last supper.”

 

 

W
e were settled in the long booth along the back wall of Ruby's restaurant. I was huddled at the far end closest to the kitchen with Taylor and Mac on one side and Niecy and Sugar on the other. Filling out the long table were Burke, Pierre, Renard, Meshach, and Malachi. One table over sat three contestants—XJ, Jordan, and Suzette—with the show producer, Bliss, and the associate producer, Marcy. I had been introduced to Jerry, one of the cameramen, when I came in. He was seated with Ren and some other staff near the front of the restaurant. If nothing else, this show was already good for business. Ruby's hadn't been this packed on a Monday evening for quite some time.

I finished scanning the other tables while studiously avoiding any type of eye contact with Malachi. I wasn't ready to deal with the implications of my little kitchen relapse just yet. When I drew my attention back to Mac and Tay, I found them eyeing me with equal parts exasperation and humor. I guessed I was going to have to deal with it.

I exhaled deeply. “I know, I know. You don't have to say it,” I said, shaking my head before letting it fall into my hands. I massaged my scalp as if willing some sense to appear there. “Believe me, I know. It was just . . .”

“Inevitable?” Taylor suggested, rolling her eyes.

“Stupid?” Mac added with a smirk.

I held up my hands. “Spur of the moment,” I amended.

“What are you going to do, Rissa?” Niecy asked quietly.

“What I always do.”

“Run in the other direction?” Mac said.

“No!” I frowned; did they really think I ran when things got tough? “I'm going to pretend it's all okay until it really is.”

“Avoidance.” Tay nodded. “I guess that works.”

I raised my brows. “You two would know.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Beg away. Are we going to pretend that you two aren't circling each other like prey?” It had long been my opinion that the two of them were perfect for each other but did nothing about it for fear of ruining the friendship, or some such other random reason. But the air around the two of them was constantly charged and uneasy like a storm waiting to break.

Taylor glared at me. “Don't deflect. If we hadn't walked in, you were a scant good minutes from a horizontal mambo with your ex-fiancé. Talk about two people circling each other.”

I might as well own up to it. “Clearly there's unfinished business there. Maybe it's physical, maybe it's nostalgia, maybe it's more. But I've learned my lesson. I don't have to give into it; I've been down that road and nothing has really changed. You two, however . . .”

“Hey Rissa.” Jordan came over from the other table and squatted down next to me. “I haven't had a second to talk to you since this whole thing started.”

Jordan Little had been the first person to greet me at Tulane registration. He was a North Carolina guy, a Southern gent with a sharp sense of humor and steel-trap mind. He'd been in a master's program for behavioral psychology, so some of our classes overlapped. We became fast friends and study buddies. Soon after graduation, we lost touch with the exception of Facebook updates and holiday cards. Last I heard he had a practice in child psychology and was married and living in Atlanta.

I scooted down and patted the spot beside me, inviting him to sit. I teased, “Hey there, Jordy, how did they get you to agree to this nonsense?”

“Girl, someone's paying me to spend the summer losing weight—something I was going to do for free—and I get to hang around my fave person from grad school in her hometown? I was all in.” His eyes twinkled as he flashed a wide grin.

“Jordy, this is Mac Bisset and Taylor Rhone. My two best friends in the world, whether they like it or not. This is Niecy, my girl from undergrad, and this is my cousin Sharon. We all call her Sugar. I couldn't tell you why.”

“Because I'm so damn sweet,” Sugar snarled with a smirk.

“Right. Everyone, this is Jordan Little. Jordy got me through many a late-night study session. He was a saint to put up with me.”

He snorted with a mischievous smile. “Is that what you thought? That I was saintly?” He laughed. “I was trying to figure out how to talk you into bed.”

I was stunned. “What?! You never said anything or made a move.”

“Apparently my moves were too subtle.” He met my eyes and grinned in a charming way I hadn't noticed before.

“Apparently.” I'd had no clue, never thought of him in anything but a platonic way.

“Yeah, well, you were pretty messed up over”—he hitched his chin down the table toward Malachi—“you know. I was biding my time. But now I'm here; you're here. Everyone's grown. Am I being less subtle?”

I goggled at him in amazement. “Um. What happened to your wife?”

“Aw, well . . . Like Scarlett O'Hara, she's gone with the wind. Met some exotic brother from Haiti and took off for parts unknown.” He fluttered his hands in a flying gesture.

I put my hand on his arm. “I'm sorry, Jordy. I didn't know.”

He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Water. Bridges. Spilt milk. All of that. Thankfully, I'm over it. Life goes on. What about you? You still waiting for the Bayou Blue Streak to catch a clue and do right?”

Taylor and Mac burst into laughter. Mac slapped Jordy on the back. “I like this guy.”

I nodded in agreement. “Me too. And no, I'm not waiting for Malachi to turn into someone different. Me and this town are still just a speed bump on his way to bigger and better things.”

Taylor shook her head. “Is he going back to the NFL?”

“He's got a tryout in three months.”

Ruby walked over at that moment. “Who has a tryout? Mal?”

“Yep.”

“Some things don't change.” She sucked her teeth.

“You don't know the half,” Mac muttered and I shot him a look.

“Jordy, the food's here! You betta come get it before it's gone,” Suzette screeched out from the other table, while sending me a look that all but screamed for my imminent demise.

Jordy leaned in. “What the hell is that woman's story and why does she hate you so?”

“There was some
Mean Girl
–type drama back in high school; she's still not over it,” I whispered.

“Whoa. Stuck in high school over a decade later. All right, then.” He ran a hand across my shoulder as he moved away. “Love to spend some time with you while I'm here, girl. If you'd like.” His hand lingered, one finger slightly grazing my collarbone in a blatant caress.

It wasn't at all unpleasant. In fact, it was quite a nice surprise. Hmm. I hadn't seen that one coming. I met his eyes and raised a brow. He was interested, he was serious, and he wasn't hiding it. The idea intrigued me. Someone who put their cards on the table? No games? Tempting. “I don't see why not,” I answered in a slightly breathy voice.

“Good. That's real good. I'll talk to you later.” With a last smile in my direction and a nod to the rest of the table, Jordan walked away.

“Um, Miss Thing?” Ruby asked, sliding into the seat Jordan had vacated. “What was that?”

Taylor had jokes. “At last count, that would be Guy Number Two who hit on Carissa Melody today.”

Mac added, “In the last two hours. In front of witnesses.”

Sugar leaned in. “What? Rissa's getting her groove back?”

“You do know no one really says that anymore, right?” I informed her.

“I know when you're avoiding a question, cuz,” Sugar said with a gleam in her eye.

“Do tell?” Ruby nudged my arm. “You 'bout ready to give up your dry spell?”

Taylor cackled. “She has been keeping the goodies on lock for a while now.”

“You're a fine one to talk,” I countered.

“We're talking about you and your epic dry spell, ma'am.”

I rolled my eyes. “Could we all lower our voices? I see no need to discuss my self-imposed celibacy with this entire restaurant.”

“Did someone over there say ‘celibate'? Did I hear that right?” Bliss, the producer who could apparently lip-read, squeaked from across the room. The entire restaurant fell silent and eyes swung toward our end of the table.

I quickly pointed at Taylor. “She's not getting any. It's tragic. We're going to work on that.” I ignored the kick in the shins she sent my way as I smiled innocently. “Who's ready to order? This being my last supper and all.”

Laughter rippled through the space and most of the patrons went back to minding their own business. I glanced up to catch Malachi cheesing with all of his teeth at me. Last damn thing I needed him to overhear.

“Problem?” he mouthed.

“Not at all,” I mouthed back with a “shoo-fly-don't-bother-me” wave of my hand. I determinedly turned my head.

Ruby whistled. “You and Mal? You and Jordy? Are you about to turn our wholesome town show into some hot mess TV? Love triangles and relationship drama?”

I closed my eyes. “God, I hope not. Can I get the catfish platter with a mixed green salad and the bread pudding for dessert? Oh, and wine. Lots and lots of wine.”

Ruby stood up as her waitstaff came over to get the rest of the dinner orders. “Girl, I hope you know what you're doing.”

“I don't have a clue. But you guys got me into this; I expect you to help me navigate whatever comes next.”

Niecy smiled. “We got you, girl. I mean, how much drama could one former prom queen generate?”

“Well, now you've jinxed it,” I moaned. Before the words had completely dissolved, Suzette got up and walked over to me.

“Can we talk for a minute? Alone without your cheerleaders,” she snapped out with way more hostility than I could understand.

“Why must she always be so nasty?” Taylor muttered.

I raised up my hands to quash anything before it started. I didn't like Suzette, but Taylor absolutely couldn't stand her. Said she wouldn't know a genuine act if it was stamped and tattooed on her ass. “Sure.” I got up and walked to Ruby's office in the back. After she followed me in, I shut the door. “What's up?”

“I just want you to know that I'm not going to be putting up with your shit this time around.” Her dark eyes snapped with barely restrained acrimony.

“What shit? This time? Huh? I beg your pardon?” My eyebrows jumped up as I had no idea what she was talking about.

“In the sixth grade we were both up for the lead role in
Our Town
and you stole it from me. Don't think I don't know how you really won those pageants. I'm sick of being your understudy because you cheat and lie to get what you want.”

“Sixth grade and pageants, huh? Still hanging onto that. And yet, here you are in a supporting role in a show about me.”

“You like to act like you're the favorite daughter of Belle Haven and whatever, but I'm not going to let you treat me any old way on this show. I am a grown woman with talents and accomplishments of my own that I can showcase, thank you very much.”

“Suzette, contrary to your beliefs, I had no idea you were coming back to town. I had no idea that this show was going to happen. Feel free to showcase whatever the hell you'd like. I have no intention of treating anyone poorly. If anything, you and I have had misunderstandings in the past, and while I'm sorry for those, I'm willing to let all that go so we can get through this show with some class.”

“You're a two-faced attention ho and I just wanted to let you know where I stand.”

So much for class. “Attention ho?” I took a deep breath and let it out. I wasn't going there with her tonight. “Whatever, Suzette. Why don't we just stay out of each other's way as much as possible? As soon as the show's done we can go back to ignoring each other, how's that?”

“Suits me just fine. Just because you lost your man and got fat doesn't mean we're here to kiss your ass.”

I shook my head in confusion. She wasn't exactly a featherweight herself, but slinging mud wouldn't get us out of this room any faster. “I'm certainly not here to tell you what to kiss. You enjoy your dinner.” I swung the door open and headed back to the table.

“I see you still think you get the last word,” she hissed as she walked past.

I sat down at the table and took a generous sip of my drink. “As God is my witness, I promise we'll try and get through this with some dignity.”

“And thinner thighs. All this bullshit is only worth it if we net thinner thighs out of the deal, right?” Niecy asked as I raised the glass Ruby had just refilled. “To thinner thighs!”

As glasses were raised, I met Jordy's glance. He tipped his glass in my direction. At the end of the table, Mal raised his water glass and sent me a smile chock full of prurient intent. Uh-oh. I might be in some trouble here. I drank deeply from the glass again and turned my attention back to Taylor and Mac, where all was safe and drama free.