Page 31 of The Black Wife Blessing

"Absolutely." Celia grabs her purse. "That new gelato place on Fifth is calling our names."

"Right now? It's almost eleven." I narrow my eyes at their obvious scheme.

"Best time for gelato." Olivia winks at me. "No lines."

They practically sprint to the front door, giggling like teenagers. The door shuts behind them, leaving me alone with Henry in the kitchen. He loosens his tie further until it falls from his neck, and I try not to stare at the exposed hollow of his throat.

"Long day?" I gesture to his rumpled appearance.

"You could say that." He runs a hand through his hair, making it even messier. The motion draws attention to his rolled-up sleeves and forearms. I grab my wine glass, needing something to do with my hands. "I did something you might not be happy about."

I perk a brow. "And what's that?"

"I confronted Benjamin."

The wine glass nearly slips from my fingers. "You what?"

"I paid him a visit at his apartment in East Harlem." Henry's jaw tightens. "After what he did to your restaurant-"

"How did you even know about that?"

"A private detective who owed me a quick favor." Henry's hands clench into fists. "I couldn't just stand by while he tried to destroy everything you've built."

I set down my glass before I actually drop it. "Henry, I can handle Benjamin."

"You shouldn't have to." He steps closer, his presence filling my space. "You're not alone. Not anymore."

"But this isn't your battle to fight." My voice comes out softer than intended.

Henry's fingers brush my arm, leaving trails of electricity in their wake. "Maybe I want it to be."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you, Monica." His blue eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "More than I should. More than this arrangement calls for."

My heart pounds against my ribs as he moves closer still. His hand slides up to cup my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone.

"You don't have to protect me," I whisper.

"I know I don't have to." His other hand finds my waist, drawing me near until barely an inch separates us. "I want to."

The kitchen suddenly feels too small, too warm. Henry's cologne wraps around me and I'm not sure I can resist these touches anymore. His thumb continues its gentle path across my skin, and I find myself leaning into his touch.

"Benjamin can't hurt you anymore," Henry murmurs. "I won't let him."

The fierce protectiveness in his voice makes my knees weak. This isn't just about our arrangement anymore - hasn't been for a while if I'm honest with myself. The way Henry looks at me now, like I'm something precious he wants to shelter from harm, tells me he feels it too.

22

HENRY

Istand there, inches away from Monica, her eyes searching mine with a mix of vulnerability and desire. We’ve just crossed a line, spoken words that have changed everything. She doesn’t need to feel alone anymore, and I’m here to prove it.

I reach out, cupping her cheek again, feeling the warmth of her dark skin against my palm. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. It’s all the invitation I need.

I lean in, capturing her lips with mine. The kiss is gentle at first, a question whispered into the tiny space between us. But when she opens up to me, deepening the kiss, it turns into something else entirely—a promise, a vow.

She tastes like honey and spice, probably a result of the dish she just cooked. Her hands find their way to my chest, gripping my shirt, pulling me closer. I oblige, wrapping my arms around her, feeling her body press against mine.

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