Page 45 of Happy Is On Hiatus
Exhausted from the effort, they fell back on the one bed, each of them touching the other because it was only a double bed. It didn’t matter. This was how they’d slept whenever they spent the night together. Sharae and Rita had bunk beds. The bottom one was a full-size, and the top—the one where Sharae slept—was a twin. But whenever Jemel came over, they all slept on the full together.
Rita took their hands, holding them the way she used to when they’d lie in bed at night talking about their hopes and dreams.
“I’m gonna be okay,” she said, squeezing their hands in hers. “I’ll figure all this out, and I’m gonna be just fine.”
The fight that had always been in Rita would never die. She knew that. Vi hadn’t raised a quitter, and thanks to Benny, she was a damn good fighter too. So no matter how much she hurt now, Rita knew joy would come in the morning. It was something they’d all learned. No matter what was thrown at them, they battled through. Their mothers had done it, especially Aunt Ceil, who’d fought Jemel’s father vigorously over child-support payments. Their grandparents and ancestors before them had all persevered through difficult and oftentimes devastating circumstances. So yeah, Rita would prevail. It was in her blood.
Jemel lifted her arm, bringing the back of Rita’s hand up so she could kiss it. “We know you will. And we’ll be right here to help in those moments that you’re not okay.”
“She’s right,” Sharae said, again mimicking Jemel’s motions. “We’ll get through this together. Just like we always do.”
Rita nodded. “Yeah, we will. I love y’all, and I’m so blessed to have you with me.”
Jemel rolled over first, wrapping her arm around Rita. “We love you too, Margaritaville!”
Sharae followed suit. “We sure do!”
They fell asleep just like that, or at least Jemel did first. A few minutes after she’d felt the heaviness of Jemel’s head against her shoulder, she heard Sharae’s soft snore. Rita lay awake a long time after the two of them were asleep, thinking about all that her life had been and all that she wanted it to be in the future. She’d known happy once, and if it was the last thing she did, she was going to find it again. She had to, otherwise Nate won, and she’d be damned if she let that happen.
Chapter 18
DATING STATUS.
“I don’t date,” Sharae replied and clapped the files she’d been carrying close to her chest.
Three days had passed since she’d last seen Desmond, and now here he was, standing in the middle of the first floor of the precinct, asking her out on a date. She’d just come from downstairs in the records department searching for a case file that linked one of her suspects in her current case to a homicide from last summer. Her mind was focused on a botched carjacking when she’d seen him coming straight toward her—confidence, briefcase, and sex appeal in hand.
“And I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” she continued when the silence between them seemed to stretch. There was plenty of other news around on a Monday afternoon with cops, other department staff, and some civilians—namely, Desmond—in the building.
She supposed she should’ve expected his nonresponsiveness, considering she’d just turned him down. But his silence was a different reaction from what she’d experienced with other guys she’d refused to go out with. There was usually some sort of back-and-forth with them trying to convince her why they were such good catches and her standing firm in her resolve to not get involved with dating and all the crap thatwent with that. The last date she’d had was with Meadows, almost nine months ago, and while she didn’t regret that—the sex had ended up being pretty decent—she wasn’t in the mood to do it again. Especially not since her physical response to Desmond was already beyond anything she knew she could’ve ever expected with Meadows.
“I’m not stalking you,” he said with a half grin. “I came in with a client to make a statement and just so happened to run into you.”
“Criminal and probate law—you’re just a jack-of-all-trades, huh?” And delicious looking, to boot. That and everything about Desmond was in conflict with the memory of watching the ultimate demise of her parents’ relationship. It had been the first glimpse she’d had of what love between a man and a woman should look like and had tainted her forever.
“My degree isn’t for only one area of law.” Why was his tone so even? So regular when she knew there was nothing regular about him.
Regular guys could never manage to intrigue and entice her simultaneously.
“I know that,” she replied with a little edge to her tone.
With his legs spread, he brought his briefcase forward until he was holding it in front of him with both hands on the leather handle. It was a semi-aggressive, dominant type of stance that didn’t irritate her as much as it probably should. “Then why bother acting surprised that I’d be here on a criminal case?” he asked casually.
“Why stop me while I’m at work to ask me out on a date when you had to know I’d turn you down?” Since he was obviously in the mood to go back and forth with her.
“Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way you looked when I mentioned ripping your clothes off.”
Oh. Well. Shit.
“That doesn’t mean I want to go out on a date with you.” And yeah, she knew how ridiculous that sounded. She shifted from one foot to the other, then willed her legs to remain still.
“So you just wanna have sex? ’Cause that can probably be arranged too.”
Cocky and courageous, a dangerous combination. She was about to respond when he held up a hand to stop her.
“I’m joking,” he said, the smile falling so that now he looked serious.
Like, seriously hot in the plaid chocolate-brown suit, crisp white shirt, and brown tie. The suit was another slim fit, molding against his muscled arms and broad chest. His goatee seemed to have grown in a bit more, and his brow was slightly furrowed.
