Love Redeemed, Book 4 (9 page)

As I speak, Rayna lowers herself back to the bed, taking to her pillow. “Yeah, that feels like years ago. I can’t believe we’ve only known each other less than a year…and we’re getting married—”

“…
first week in March. Yup,” I conclude that thought. She doesn’t need to focus on how little time we’ve known each other. Just on our forever.

Rayna’s
hooded eyes curiously rise to meet mine, “Okay…now you tell me a secret. I wanna learn something new about you, too.”

“U
hhhh…let’s see,” I quickly think of how I can play along with her
moment of truth
game. “I don’t think you shared anything new; just confirmed what I’d already known,” I admit.

“Well, was there anything
impressive
about me…since you’ve brought up my inadequacies?”

“Of course, there were many impressive things about you
, sexually. It’s clearly the reason I’ve had more sex with you in the past few months than I have with any one woman.”

“Huhn?” Rayna’s eyebrows
narrow. “This can’t be true. You were with Tara for what…six years?”

“I know
,” I nod. “It doesn’t seem plausible, but by the time we hit the ninth month mark, where you and I are now, I hadn’t had as much sex with Tara. That novelty had run its course long before then.”

Rayna look
s even more confused. And per usual, I don’t want to explore this conversation. It could reveal more than I ever want her to know about me.

“So, does that mean our time is coming?
The time when sex isn’t as interesting as it’s been? It’s the same question I asked while we were in the shower, that night I officially moved in with you.” Rayna’s eyes dance in their sockets. “Oh, my god, Azmir, I can’t even imagine life without sex with you. Sex with you is like—”

“Fucking amazing,” I chime in with a definitive tone.

She turns to me with squinted eyes, but a full on blushing face, “Well, yeah, but you didn’t have to be so conceited about it.”

“There’s nothing wrong
with great sexual chemistry. That’s what we have, Brimm,” I say as she burrows into my arms, finding her place of comfort.

“Yeah…
great
is an understatement,” she whispers, much to herself. If I know my lady, she’s horny as fuck right now just thinking about how I smash her. But there’s nothing I can do about it. She’s bleeding.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have a secret as well,” I murmur.

Rayna’s head shoots in the air and eyes light up like a Christmas tree. Unable to hide her curiosity, she sputters, “Pray tell.”

My gaze makes its way
to the wall ahead, in the distance. “I was nervous as hell the first time we smashed.” Now I’m looking for her reaction.

Rayna sh
akes her head as her eyes roll to the back of her head. She tries like hell to conceal her smile.

“What? I was,” I argue
.

“But why must you use the word
smash
? Seemed like more than that to me at the time.”

“Well, we both know it was very special, but I wasn’t my best. I was nervous
.” I can’t believe I’m admitting this shit.

Her eyes
shoot up to me. “Why?”

“I don’t know
,” I shrug over a sigh. “It took so damn long…and so many near-incidences that when it was finally time, I wasn’t on my A-game.” I get caught up in those historical feelings from that night at the
Four Seasons
. “At some point after tasting you that first time, I decided to over-perform. I mean, I knew I had to impress you, but I also knew moving forward, I wanted to be sure to please you.”

Rayna’s soft hand brushe
s against my chest. “But you did…that very first night.”

“I know, but it wasn’t with my preferred comfort level. I’ve never been intimidated
by sex. With you everything’s…new.” My gaze finds its way to her.

She swallow
s hard, “It was beautiful. And so was the second and each time there on out.”

“Oh, I know the second time was
remarkable. Once I realized I had another opportunity and that you’d stay with me in Phoenix, I quickly decided to get my shit together and show you I’m the fucking man. I made sure you wouldn’t forget me anytime soon.”

Rayna how
ls like she’s being tickled. I watch her, completely content by her joyful state. Though I added the comic relief, I’m serious as hell.

“I’d like to have a dinner party,” I announce, attempting to remove us from the previous topic.

Rayna shifts in the bed to face me. “Really? Where?”

“Here.”

“Really?”

I laugh
. “Yes, here. In our home.”

“Who would you invite?”

“I have a few of my east coast buddies that I’d like you to meet.”

Rayna’s penetrative gaze is into my chest as she’
s processing this.

“Do I have to invite people?” she ask
s as her brown irises reach mine.

“No, baby. Just show up in all your sexy
grandeur. I want to show you off to my friends.”

Rayna exhales as a gorgeous smile cracks on her face. “I want to host it.”

“You don’t have to worry about cooking for so many. I can set it up with Chef Boyd.”

“No, I want to host your friends. I think it’ll be good for me…something new, you know?”

She’s really serious about this
. I smile at her determination.

“I’ll need Boyd’s help, but I want to
spearhead it,” she mutters while her eyes bounce back and forth between mine, tentatively awaiting my reaction.

“Go for it
.” I kiss her forehead.

“Really
?” Rayna’s eyes grow wide in excitement.

“Of course. I actually like the idea of you in my kitchen cooking, preferably naked…in heels.”

Rayna’s head tilts back on a hearty laugh, and per usual, my heart inflates.

I wait until she’s done before I take on a sobering topic.
 

“
Rayna, about your moms—”

“It’s fine,” she intercept
s my attempt to clear the air. “Really. I need some time to adjust, but
we’re
fine.”

I nod as I study her expression. I really don’t know where to go from here. Rayna can be very difficult with things like this. Less than an hour ago, I just knew this was going to be a “silent” night.

“Okay…but you know that I love you, right?” I don’t like feeling like a broken record; I desperately need her to know I’d had her best interest in mind.

Rayna once again raises her left hand, displaying the symbol of my pledge of forever. She’s barely able to hide her roguish grin.

I think she gets it…

Rayna

A couple of weeks after learning Azmir invited my mother to town found me still adjusting to the idea. I’m not angry, but I feel a part of my privacy had been breached when he invited her into my world. It’s been easy being in a new state, with no one who has a true reference of you and your past. My bones have been closeted. Outside of my nightmares, I’ve been able to escape that old world. The pain. My mother being here can be a liability to that locked closet.

What if she slips up and mentions the shooting? The murder
.

I try to be mindful of calling to check on her
a few times. She’s been receptive to it. She’s also been busy, trying to rebuild her own life; interviewing for jobs, keeping up with her doctor’s appointments. There’s been very little asked of me, and I’m relieved. Ironically, I can now appreciate Azmir’s apprehensions and mixed feelings of developing a relationship with Yazmine after so many years of being separated.

Azmir shock
s me and attends another counseling session with me this week. Last week I’d gone alone, minus the shadow of John, my security escort, who of course stayed out in the waiting area. And this week Mr. Jacobs himself is tagging along. He hasn’t said why, just that he wants to come again.

He remains
quiet for the most part. So quiet that I’m able to forget his presence for much of it and speak freely with Pastor Edmondson about my fears of never seeing Erin again, and my guilt of having my brother incarcerated while I’m away, flourishing, and free from the perils of home. Though I don’t elaborate on the extent of my onus, the fact that he would never be in that cell had I not been involved with O. I’m not ready to go there yet, and Azmir’s quietness isn’t that great that I’ve forgotten he’s here entirely. However, I’m able to be open about my brother’s absence from my life contributing to my loneliness. Pastor Edmonson and I are able to agree on that being one of the reasons I’ve been consistent with his visits and maintaining his commissary.

Speaking about Akeem
is very emotional. It takes immense resolve for me not to break the levy of tears that grows behind the pain of it all. I manage to remain tear-free throughout the entire session. Before I know it, Pastor Edmonson is announcing the end of the session. We stand for our goodbyes and I feel Azmir’s warm hand on the curve of my back. It doesn’t feel sexual, perhaps for comfort. I’m not quite sure and begin to get nervous about the backlash of what I’ve shared over the past hour. Other than saying he feels privileged to attend the session and he would like to appear at more, Azmir doesn’t say much at all.

En route, while gazing unseen out of the window, Azmir mutters, “I’ve got something to talk with you about.”

My belly toils in the worst way as Ray, behind the wheel, drives us in his customary silence. This won’t be good. I knew it was a horrible idea having him sit in on my counseling session. I knew it would be a matter of time before he either threw something in my face or confronts me about something I’d shared, hence yet another reason why I hate expressing my feelings.

I rol
l my eyes as I exhale and wryly caution, “Yeah? Bring it.”

My body
goes rigid as I prepare myself for the blow. This time I will not consider Ray when I respond. I won’t give a second thought to having another showdown with Azmir.

“I spoke with your mother today
.” He then turns to look at me. I don’t know what’s coming next, but I do suddenly feel like an ass for assuming the worst with Azmir. And I suddenly realize Azmir never throws things in my face, neither does he hold on to much.
Nice, Rayna!
I turn to him sheepishly and nod, asking him to continue. “She didn’t complain, but I can’t help but think that she’s run her course at the hotel she’s been staying in.”

My eyes retreat beyond Azmir and into his window as my mind churn
s. This is truly a dilemma because I have no solutions. My mother knows no one out here; she has no support. She’s mentioned joining a church, but that wasn’t very long ago, too recent to have that close acquaintances.

I swallow hard before uttering, “I don’t know how to remedy that. I’m sure the same rules that were established for Yazmine appl
y to my mother with regard to living with us at the marina.” I turn to Azmir for his reaction.

He gi
ves a slow, but affirmative nod. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be receptive to your moms living with you—”

“It’s just that…Azmir…it’s going to take time for me to adjust is all. I’m trying…I really am…” I tr
y to explain.

“Rayna, I am not judging you. Trust me, I have no room to
.” His voice was even yet firm. “If you’re not ready for a traditional relationship with your moms, it is not my job to force you. I’ll support and protect you. I just want to help. Okay, baby?” His eyes are filled with genuine concern. I feel guilty for bringing this to him. Although he’s brought Samantha out here, he did so as a means of supporting me.

“Okay, so what do
you suggest? I don’t want you buying her a mansion on the hill. You’re doing far more than I expect with her medical care.”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s best for her to be alone considering her health. She needs companionship. I was thinking of having her stay in Redondo Beach with Yazmine. She could use some company herself.”

“Would they be compatible? They don’t even know each other. That could be disastrous.” I cringe.

“I don’t know, but I’ll take care of it. I’m sure they’ll have something in common.
Worse comes to worse, they can decide it isn’t working and one could leave. It wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ll speak with them both.”

The sad reality
is I know Azmir is the best person to handle this and alone. I’ve easily warmed up to Yazmine and have even hung out with her a few times since she’s been in town. My mother is a separate issue. I need time to adjust to her being around after so many years. Although so many things about her is familiar—her voice, her scent, her style—so much has changed—her appearance, her complexion, her aura, her grace, her confidence. It’s going to be a huge adjustment. One that I have yet to settle on.

“Okay,” I
cowardly assent to.

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of weeks later I’m at work, finishing up on a patient when I get a text from Azmir, saying he’s arrived next door to work. Apparently, he left his pocket watch at home in a rush out the door this morning.

I
left extra early to get to my doctor’s appointment before work, but returned home to shower and dress for work. For some strange reason, I always feel like I need a shower after seeing my GYN. That gooey lubricant used to probe my private has always made me feel yucky. When I was dressing to leave for work Azmir, who had left out before I’d returned from the doctor, asked me to grab his pocket watch and said he’d be at the rec today and could get it from me then.

I quickly decide that I c
an use some fresh air before my next patient, so without replying to his text, I hop next door to take it myself. When I get to his office reception area, I come upon Old Lady Peg. I grunt inwardly. Azmir doesn’t spend as much time at the rec center as he did when we’d started dating. Therefore, I don’t have to see Peg as much and endure her arctic regard toward me.

As I near her desk after entering the doorway of the area, I appl
y a practiced smile, “Morning, Peg. I hope all is well. Is Azmir available?”

Peggy lower
s her chin to see over the frames of her glasses. She gives me a once over before her eyes roll from me, back to the file before her.

“
Afternoon. It is three minutes
after
noon, Ms. Brimm. So, good afternoon to you,” she pauses, seemingly taking her attention back to what she was doing before I arrived. “And Mr. Jacobs is in a meeting now. You can have a seat until it’s concluded,” she murmurs, never looking up for a response or a reaction.

My eyes
spring erratically as I process her crudeness. I don’t know what to do. Ice Queen Peg is an employee of my, now, fiancé. Why do I feel like the adolescent crusher of her child? I honestly don’t know what to say to this woman who, at every opportunity, thickens the barrier between us.

My eyebrows furrow as my lips pout, “Ummmm…Peg?
” She slowly peers up at me. “You do know that I woke up this morning to this man we speak of, don’t you?”

Arctic Peg’s nose sw
ings in the air at that comment, affronted. “Yes…yes, darling. I do have knowledge of you living with Mr. Jacobs. And of your recent engagement. I am his legal secretary, Ms. Brimm. How could that piece of knowledge escape me?” She won’t stop with her venom.

I’ve
had enough with Cold Cruel Pegster! I’ve never been anything but warm and respectful to her, only to have her zap me with sheets of ice. There’s no way that I can continue with Azmir and have his
staff
regard me so rudely.

“Peg, I’m not sure where we went
askew when we met. I have no idea what I’ve said or done to make our exchanges so…glacial. But I don’t want to do it anymore. Tell me what I’ve done so that I can apologize and make amends. This needs to end here.” I pluck a brow. “Today.”

Frosty Peg appear
s unmoved, but I definitely have her attention. She sits back in her chair and removes her glasses, placing them on the desk. Straightening her shoulders, she utters, “You lied to me the first time I encountered you. You presented yourself no differently than the droves of women who vie for his attention daily. Only, he was pursuing you as well.” Her head goes toward the right as her sight set out to the distance, recalling months ago when I lied to get a couple of minutes with Azmir to thank him for the iPhone he’d surprised me with.

“I’ve worked
under wealthy business men for decades. I know the life of a man with many resources. I was the second student enrolled in the fine
Long Beach City School of Legal Assistants
. I’m very proud of what I do and have been doing it since your grandmother was doing
The Frug
. I’ve seen the dark underworld of rich men. The dives in morality they take because of their privileged statues. I’ve worked for men who would only let my Mr. Jacobs in their offices to clean their shoes.” She lets out a huff after that, I guess at the idea of someone thinking so little of Azmir.

“When I met him,”
Peg refers to Azmir. She’s suddenly gained an arch in her cheeks—
is that a…smile?
“I’d been laid off from a job that I trained my successor to do. I had no idea they were using me only to fire me and after twenty-six years of service.” She snaps her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

“When I walked into that warehouse
…into that small hole in the wall, I was broke and broken. I made my way into an even smaller room where I laid eyes on his dark skin, dressed in a button up, jeans, and construction boots while sitting over a mountain of paperwork. I knew right away that this brown boy was going to turn me away. I didn’t even know if I wanted to work for him—the place was horrendous.” Peg chuckles at the memory of it. I’m standing awkwardly, envisioning the Azmir from back when.

“He looked so disorganized,
in such disarray!” She cups her mouth to muffle her mirth. I can’t believe she has a functioning sense of humor. “He was on the phone, and when he spoke, I could close my eyes and not know what his ethnicity was. He was the brightest man I’d met his age. Almost instantly, I’d decided I wanted the job. I didn’t have the description of the company, but I didn’t care. This young man was promising,” Peg’s mirth falls into a warm smile. But then her eyes find mine and her cheeks drop into a scowl.

“And I later learned he was loyal. I got the job
and started that day. And despite my age, and the color of my skin, a few months later, I moved into an office park he rented out to run the company. Then he brought me here when he purchased this massive lot and built this beautiful architecture.” Her eyes gleam with pride. “He spends more time working than any of those rich bastards I’d worked decades for. He helps people, puts their needs in front of his own. He’s a workaholic, which is why it didn’t surprise me when his relationship with Ms. Harrison failed. I wasn’t happy to believe he’d be alone. A dark, handsome man with his brilliance, charm, wealth, and resources, but no wife or children?” Peg snaps her tongue again and visibly trembles at that thought. I remain silent, trying to process her perspective.

“Anyway, along with wealth and power, comes
fanfare of the female persuasion.” She goes back to her paperwork, there on her desk. “You lied when I first met you. To me, you were no different. He’s a good man. One who needs an honest and pure woman on his side. Someone who will fiercely protect him—”  

“And I won’t?” I sputter. I c
an’t believe she’s alluding to the fight between Azmir and Brian Thompson. “I was trying to surprise him romantically that first day. I think I’ve proven I’m not like the others. And the fight was…a mess, but we’ve worked through that mishap. We’ve moved on—together.” I square my shoulders, feeling a burst of confidence. “I may not have been perfect while dating, but I will be the best wife I can to him. I will work damn hard to give him the partnership he deserves.” Peg’s eyes ascend to meet my determined gaze. “I love him. I can love him. I will love him.”