Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Come on in, Mama.” I toss my robe onto the bed. “I could actually use some help.”
“I figured, since we’ve been waiting outside for ten minutes,” Josiah says, his tone curt, irritation sketched into his features. “We’re gonna miss this flight if you don’t hurry up. What do you need me to do?”
When his eyes meet mine, we both freeze. Me, standing stock-still wearing only my bra and panties.
“What I need,” I grit out, grabbing the robe again and shoving my arms through the sleeves, “is for you to get out of here.”
Josiah doesn’t budge, but fixes his stare somewhere over my shoulder. “Carole said she was busy and couldn’t help right now, but sent me to check on you.”
First Mama sent him into the kitchen for a dish Vashti did not leave behind. Now this.
I see you, Mama.
Matchmaking your daughter and her divorced husband should be a punishable offense.
Matricide?
“She should have known better than to send you up to my bedroom when I’m still getting dressed,” I tell him, gripping the collar of the robe at my neck.
“Maybe she realized it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” His tone is deliberately casual, but there was nothing casual about the way he scoured my body before he looked away. “I think I can be in the same room as you without losing control.”
What about my control?
“We need to get out of here,” he says. “What do you need help with?”
I sigh grudgingly and nod to the clothes scattered on the bed. “I’ve showered, so just toss those into a suitcase.”
“All this for an overnight stay?” He cocks a brow and starts folding.
“A girl has to be prepared for anything.” With a forced grin, I leave the room to enter my closet and dress, only to realize I left my clothes on the bed. When I step back into the room, a lacy black thong dangles from Josiah’s index finger.
“Gimme that.” I snatch the underwear and stuff it into the suitcase. “You know what? I got this. It’s not much. Go to the car and I’ll be right down.”
“I’m just trying to help your slow ass.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“I can be ready in no time if you just leave me be.”
I roll my eyes and push his arm, urging him toward the door. Without being tight, a navy blue sweater molds the sculpted muscles of his arms and torso. I’m hyperaware of the tiny sliver of space between his chest and mine. Conscious of the fact that my breasts feel fuller pressed against the robe. My bra, a silken cage brushing my sensitive nipples. My heart, a wild beast, pounding to get out. I’m barefoot. Broad and tall, he towers over me in a way that used to make me feel safe when we stood together. I don’t feel safe right now, though. Every stunted breath, every second of this silence throbbing between us feels perilous. I’m threatened, but the enemy is within. The danger is in my own traitorous responses to a man who used to be mine. He looks down at me, dark eyes hooded, watching me closely, and makes no move to leave. My fingers clench around his arm, and finger by finger, I release my hold.
“Give me ten minutes,” I say, my voice smoked over and husky. I’m desperate to get him out of this room and out of my vicinity.
“Make it five.” He tosses the terse words over his shoulder as he walks out the door.
It takes seven. Zipping around the room like the hounds of hell are nipping at my heels, which isn’t far from the truth, I toss the clothes and toiletries into my roll-on and stuff my makeup bag into an oversized purse. I dress and tap at Deja’s bedroom door, waiting for her invitation to open. When I enter, she draws back the sheer curtains encircling her bed. Poking her head out and blinking at me sleepily. A leopard-print silk bonnet covers her hair and she’s wearing Marvel pajamas. Storm’s chalk-white eyes watch me almost as intently as my daughter’s do. Like this, she looks young and vulnerable, with no time to raise her guard.
“Hey.” I smile, leaning against the doorjamb.
“Hey.” She stretches and yawns. “What time is it?”
“Early. You can go back to sleep, but we’re leaving for the airport. You guys behave for your grandmother.”
She falls back into her pillows and pulls the cover over her neck and shoulders. “Deuces, Mom,” she mumbles from the depths of her bedclothes. “We’ll be fine.”
“We’ll call when we land. Grandma is here, but look after your brother.”
“Always do.” Her voice drowses into oblivion, the last syllables trailing off as she drifts back to sleep.
I close her door and crack open Kassim’s. He’s still sleeping peacefully, covers kicked off and arms folded beneath his pillow. I don’t wake him, but drop a quick kiss to his hair before tiptoeing out and down the stairs.