Page 85 of A Trial of the Heart
“What?” I questioned with a slight giggle when Rashad’s motions stopped, and I felt his eyes on me.
Rashad had forgiven me, but I couldn’t deny that I treaded lightly at times because I knew my actions were wrong.
“Let’s go out tonight.” He wasn’t asking.
We hadn’t been out in a while, so it was much needed.
“Okay.” I smiled sheepishly.
“I’m serious.” His deep voice sounded soothing.
“Me too.” I smiled widely. “Where are we going?”
Rashad chuckled. “You knew before you even asked that I wasn’t about to tell you that.” He winked.
One of the things I liked about Rashad was that he was so intentional about all he did. He planned the dates and made them memorable, while making sure every aspect catered to me and was a surprise. I’d never had that before. Daniel was the complete opposite.
“You can’t even give me a hint?” I playfully pouted my lips.
“The hint is you gonna enjoy it,” he said, winking.
With an eye roll, I sucked my teeth. “Whatever.”
I wasn’t actually mad as I knew whatever Rashad had planned, I’d enjoy. I was just nosey and wanted to know what he’d come up with.
He didn’t say another word. I knew it would be a few hours before we went out, but now, I was anxious.
Old school R&Bfilled the studio as Rashad and I painted an image of Jordan sneakers for him and Louboutin heels for me. Rashad had rented out a paint and sip café for just the two of us. While I couldn’t drink alcohol, Rashad did, and I sipped my virgin margaritas. I appreciated the date because just a few days prior I said I wanted to go. Rashad not only paid attention to detail, but he also went the extra mile, making sure we had our private moment in a public space.
“Damn, babe. You trying to put my painting to shame, ain’t it?” Rashad said, looking over at my art.
Sucking my teeth, I looked over at his painting. “Man, what? Your shit looking like you Leonardo da Vinci’s first born.”
I felt my painting did look good, but Rashad’s colors meshed so well and his attention to detail within his lines were immaculate. He for sure had to have done this before.
“Been painting and stuff behind my back, haven’t you?” I added, laughing.
“Nah, not even.” He chuckled, lifting his glass to his lips.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t get back to my painting. I could only stare at the side of his face. With each brush stroke, Rashad’s muscles flexed. He was sexy without trying.
“Why are you staring at my shit? Can’t even copy off of me when we’re not painting the same thing.”
I laughed at his words. “Don’t nobody want to copy off of your painting.”
“So, what you staring at me for, Shiloh?” he asked in a playful tone.
Instead of speaking right away, I just glared at the side of Rashad’s head. He was perfect and truly one of God’s favorites. He was mine.
“What, woman?” He never looked my way.
I didn’t want to turn this moment into anything emotional, but I loved him with everything in me, and I was grateful that my choices didn’t cause me to lose him.
“I love you.” My voice cracked.
Rashad instantly looked my way. His brush paused mid-stroke “Baby, what’s up? Something wrong with you? The case? The babies? What’s up; why are you crying?” He rambled off his questions all at once.
Nothing was funny, but I found myself laughing at the many questions Rashad asked.
