Page 62 of Happy Is On Hiatus
“I’ve always wanted you to have the best, and I’m sorry that couldn’t be me.” He stepped closer then, and Rita was still stuck in her emotional trance, so she didn’t move in time.
His arms went around her, and before she could blink, the first tear slipped down her cheek. The next thing she knew, her arms were going around his waist. They stood there for she didn’t know how long simply holding on to each other, like they were both afraid to let go but knew that it was inevitable.
Chapter 23
THE HIRED HELP.
Sharae almost sliced her finger off thinking about the fight she and Desmond had last night. She’d gone to his house again, the fourth time since that first evening the week before last. They’d had a great dinner ordered from her favorite steakhouse where they always prepared her very well-done filet just right, with tender baked potatoes and creamed spinach, which had been Desmond’s selection that she’d refused to eat. She’d hated spinach since she was little, and having a sexy guy hold it in some creamed concoction on a fork, inches away from her face, wasn’t changing her stance on that.
Not long after the delicious—sans spinach—dinner, they’d had phenomenal sex. That seemed to be their ritual. She’d go to his place after work, he’d think of something for dinner, they’d eat, have sex, and she’d get up and go home. Until last night.
“Why don’t you stay?”
“Because this is your place, not mine,” she’d tossed back at him just before pulling her shirt over her head.
He’d been lying on his bed, the beige sheets twisted so that they only covered his groin. His dark, muscled legs and bare, toned chest were still on full and perfect display. But she really did need to leave. Itwas late, and she’d stayed much longer than she’d planned. She’d told Rita she’d be at her house by eight, which was barely a few hours away.
“I think we’ve already proven we can both fit in this bed,” he told her.
“You’re correct, we have fit in this bed a good number of times.” And when she stood to push her legs into her pants, she let herself recall all the times and all the things they’d done in this bed. Her skin tingled with arousal, and she really considered climbing back into that bed. But she couldn’t spend the night with him. That wasn’t what she did.
“But you won’t sleep here,” he said, folding his arms behind his head.
“No.” She shook her head just in case he hadn’t heard her response.
He’d heard it just fine; he just wanted to have this conversation. Again. It was the same as the conversation about them going out on a date. Sharae didn’t want to talk about either. She grabbed her suit jacket off the chair and hunted down her shoes before slipping them on.
“I have to be at my cousin’s by eight to help her get set up for our family cookout.”
“Oh, your family’s having a Fourth of July cookout.”
She’d frowned. “It’s just a cookout. We don’t do any of those red, white, and blue decorations. It’s another day for us to gather and celebrate each other with good food, music, and just old-fashioned family fun.”
“My family’s all in Atlanta,” he’d said.
Finding her bag was a little more difficult, and she’d walked back and forth across his room until she saw it on the edge of his dresser.
“So, you’re just not gonna invite me. Even after I dropped that big hint.”
She turned to face him then and thought about what he’d just said. “You want to come to my family cookout?”
He shrugged. “I like good food and family fun. What y’all playin’, Tunk or Spades?”
She’d tilted her head and recalled the last time she’d played cards. “We have card nights, but sometimes somebody’ll start up a game at the cookouts too. The younger kids have games and ...” And what he wasasking her was much bigger than eating grilled food or playing cards. “You’re trying to make this a dating thing, aren’t you?”
“You’re trying to keep this a secret thing, aren’t you?” he asked, and she frowned.
“You’re not funny.”
He sat up then, swinging his legs over the side of the bed before standing. The sheet fell to the floor, and her gaze fell to his semi-erect dick. She swallowed, the desire switch he seemed to have taken possession of clicking to on and igniting the flames inside her. But she didn’t move. She had to think.
“I told you I don’t date.”
He came closer, touching his hands to her arms. She tried to focus, to keep her gaze on his eyes, not his ... other parts. When he’d eased her to the side and then went to open the top drawer of his dresser instead of pulling her to him for a kiss or wrapping her hands around his length like he’d done just a little while ago, she’d realized just how much trouble she was in.
“Are you angry about that? Because I made myself perfectly clear,” she said.
“You did,” he’d replied and pulled out a pair of shorts that he then stepped into. “I guess I’ve just been trying to figure out why you’re so stuck on that rule.”
