Page 42 of Lost In London

“Can I take you somewhere? You can have your driver follow me.” I’d spotted him sitting in the back of the bar pretending to read while watching her every move and the faces of each person that entered.

Giving her room to think it over, I collected our trash and tossed it. She was still nibbling on her bottom lip and fidgeting with her fingers, looking indecisive. Squatting down in front of her, I twisted her stool around until her pretty pink toes bumped into my chest. My motive for being this close to her was for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to get a closer whiff of her scent. It drove me crazy. Two, my hands were itching to touch her in some capacity so I settled on putting her heels back on her feet. Three, I wanted to see the collection of hearts tattoed near her ankle up close. It was hearts forming the shape of an anchor with a vine cross in the middle.

Different and unique just like her.

Looking up at her, I had to rotate my neck and shake off the need to give in to the silent plea darkening under her low hooded eyes. “I give you my word that I won’t hurt you.” In this position, damn near on my knees before her, I hope she understood that I was at her mercy to do and be whatever she needed. Never intending to harm.

Nodding, her lips parted, and a low okay touched my ears over the loud conversations swirling around us. While she went to her back office to grab her purse and then speak to her driver, I stayed standing in the same spot wondering what the hell I was doing. Why did I even invite her to my home in the first place? The only thing I could come up with was that I had this strange but strong pull to do so and I was obeying whatever it was.

“I’m ready.” Her eyes were swarming with doubt clouds.

Watching her exhale long breaths and smooth down the front of her blouse, she wasn’t the only one feeling discombobulated by this entire thing.

It took us twenty-five minutes to get to my house from her shop. For most of the drive, I spent it looking in the rearview mirror making sure Benny was still there. That London hadn’t changed her mind. I thought about calling Quest so he could help me sort out what exactly was going on but the closer we drove to my house it became clear what I wanted to show her.

Stepping out of the SUV with the help of her driver Benny, she pushed her dark shades up on the top of her head, eyes wide in awe. “Your home is beautiful.”

Standing next to her and watching her eyes widen taking in my two-story craftsman-style home, I smiled with pride. From the exposed beams, low-pitched gable roofs, and tapered columns on my porch. The custom built-in bookshelves and hand-laid fireplace, it was all my idea. All my design of how I wanted my house to be. Thanks to my parents owning one of the largest architecture firms in the southeast, it wasn’t hard to have my vision brought to life.

“I’m anxious to know why you brought me here, Quincey.” Panic was beginning to make a home in her eyes and the fidgeting of her fingers were getting worse. She was trembling.

Turning my body in her direction I held my palms out. Blinking a few times she apprehensively placed her delicate soft hands on mine. “I know I haven’t earned it but you can trust me, London. I’m not going to hurt you. Benny can follow right behind us.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she shifted from side to side until she closed her eyes and started to take deep breaths. She was counting low, trying to find her center of comfort. Hopefully helping to shake off any anxiety and fear she felt, I squeezed her hand and waited patiently while also silently praying over her. It didn’t take long for her trembles to stop and her breathing to mellow out.

Giving Benny a reassuring smile, she squeezed my hand. “We’ll be right back.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” I’d never take this moment for granted.

Keeping one hand in mine, I guided us around my backyard. At first glance, you wouldn’t think my home sat on six acres of land but it did and it was all in the back of my home. Mindful of her heels, I helped her step on the stoned pathway. In my head, I counted on her reaction once my creation came into view.

5…4…3…

“Oh, my goodness. This is… wow… you have a garden. Several gardens. And you have a rose bush.” Like an antsy kid, she released my hand and went exploring.

I stood near my deck and let her freely wander around. Hearing her yell out each vegetable, fruit, herb, and flower kept my smile stretched across my face. Harvest season was slowly approaching so a lot of my fruits and vegetables were in mid to full bloom. I had apples, peaches, mangos, watermelons, and grape vines. I even had my own cacao tree that came in handy when I wanted to make my own chocolate. Collard greens, cabbage, squash, and carrots were amongst my vegetables. I rarely ever shopped at a grocery store for my produce.

“What made you start a garden?” Nose in my rose bush, she was so relaxed, unlike the woman that was about to hyperventilate almost two minutes ago.

“My desire for love.” Walking over to where she stood, I smirked watching her forehead crease.

“Care to explain.” Following behind me to my table next to my mango tree, she grabbed one from off the tree and handed it to me.

It was nice and ripe. I loved sitting under my mango tree and just chilling with good music. I’d sit out here for hours just getting sticky from all the mangos I ate in one setting. Placing the mango she gave me on my cutting table, I opened the drawer underneath and took out the clean knives I put in there this morning.

“Love and I weren’t on one accord for a long time.” Slicing the mango open, she and I groaned in delight at the sweet smell permeating our space. “What I mean by that is I was so anxious to love any woman that appeared to check off all my boxes that I never stopped to consider if she was truly the one for me. If I was fashioned for her as she was fashioned for me. Here, open.”

With no hesitation, her lips parted and her pink tongue welcomed home the juicy fruit I fed her. Eyes rolled to the back of her head, she moaned and moaned so damn much that I was stuck on stupid staring at her wondering if she knew what those sounds were doing to me. Thankfully the table came to waist level but damn.

“Can I have more? That was so good.” Not waiting for me to answer, she took the mango out of my hand, sat on the fold-out chair I had under the tree, and drifted into her own world of fruit bliss. “Please, continue.”

How was I supposed to finish or think straight when she was unapologetically slaughtering my mangos, devouring them with such… such… I ain’t never wanted to be a piece of fruit in my life. A piece of fruit or her fingers that she kept licking.

Thankful for the table, I adjusted myself and tried to talk normal. “Anyway, I asked God to teach me how to love the woman He created for me. Not to just teach me how to love in general. No, I wanted to know exactly how to love her.”

You, London.

I asked God to teach me how to love you.

---