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  “And are you the man you thought you could be?”

  “I’m a work in progress, Miss Jewel.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  After that, we settled back into more casual conversation that ranged from sports to current events. Her favorite color was green, and she loved mid-spring when it’s not cold at night but not summer hot during the day. The more I knew, the more I liked.

  I asked her to dance during the next set. Miss Jewel was a classy dancer, kinda jazz-club cool with a hint of sex. Nice. I kept the gentleman in me on point and didn’t hold her as close as I wanted. I breathed in the scent of the nape of her neck but didn’t lick her ear like the dog in me wanted. When the music ended, we stepped back from each other and took inventory. We shared a smile.

  “So, Mama like?”

  Her smiled widened. “Mama like.”

  I let out a breath. “When Mama’s happy, everybody’s happy. You ready to go?”

  She nodded.

  On the way back to her house, she turned to me. “There’s something about you I just can’t put my finger on.”

  “Baby, you can put your finger on anything I have.” Oops, the dog jumped out.

  “Boy, please, what I mean is, you have a vibe about you.”

  I nodded. “It’s our vibe. The buzz is about us; it’s called chemistry, Miss Jewel. Dive on in, water’s fine.”

  Her eyes got wide. “Oh, I’m a baby-toe-in-the-kiddie-pool-first girl.”

  Poor thing looked like a deer in the headlights. “Ease up; no hurry, no worry. Let’s just try and spend some time, catch the vibe.”

  She didn’t respond, and we rode in a vibe-filled silence until I pulled into her drive.

  I hopped out of the car, walked around to her side, and extended my hand to help her out. Keeping her hand in mine, I strolled along to her front door. I held out my other hand for her key.

  “You’re a gentleman.” She seemed stunned as she handed me the key.

  “Should a brother be insulted?”

  “You keep surprising me; one minute you’re all round-the-way homeboy, and next you’re all Billy Dee.”

  I opened her door and stepped aside so she could key in her alarm code. When she turned around, I took a step forward. “I’ll take that in the spirit you meant it. Lookie here, I wear a coat of many colors, babe. I flow like I need to as need be.”

  She looked up at me with a bemused expression on her face, mouth slightly open. Too good an invitation to pass up. “I try to be a gentleman, but I’m only human, Jewel.” With that, I leaned down and set my lips against hers. Mmm, her lip gloss was some kind of fruit flavor. By holding her beneath her elbows, I could pull her upward and closer at the same time. Not wanting to take too many liberties, I didn’t probe around. Just explored those soft lips of hers with mine until I heard that little hitch in her breath. She strained closer, and her mouth opened a little wider. Boom ...

  I beat down my inner dog, took one last taste of her, and took a step back. I slid my hands from her elbow to grasp her hands. I gave them a squeeze before letting go and taking another step back. Her eyes blinked open.

  “Good night, Jewellen. Thanks for coming out with me.”

  A slow smile lit up her entire face, and it was all I could do not to lean back in for seconds. She answered, “Good night, Roman. I had a lovely time.”

  Grinning like an idiot, I waited for her to close the door before I turned to get back in my truck. Pulling out of the driveway, I allowed for one Tiger Woods fist pump. “Yes!” before lecturing myself. “First date, incredible, yes, but a long way to go yet. Stay chill, stay chill. She just a girl—”

  My phone cut me off midrant. “Speak to me.”

  Jewellen’s voice was soft. “So, chemistry, huh?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Ya scared?”

  “Cautiously optimistic.”

  Baby was deep and nervous. I’d have to tread careful. “I’ll take it. Hey ...”

  “Hey?”

  “Red apples. I just realized that’s what you smell like. Red apples.”

  She laughed. “Be Delicious.”

  “Pardon me?” Mind out of the gutter.

  “The name of my perfume is Be Delicious.”

  I just bet she would be delicious too. “Of course it is. When’s your birthday?”

  “December. Yours?”

  “August.”

  “Good to know. Call me tomorrow?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Call me tonight and let me know you made it home?”

  “You going to bed?” The thought of her in a nightgown (or not) crawling in between some sheets completely shut down the gentleman and let the dog out.

  “Yep, but I’ll wait for your call.”

  “Phone sex?”

  “Don’t start nothing you can’t finish, boy.”

  “Oh, I’ll finish. If you want, I’ll turn this car around and make sure you finish too.”

  “Rome, you were being a gentleman!”

  “I can be whatever you need.” Okay, that slipped out. Kinda aggressive. I waited for her response.

  “I just bet you can. Call me back, Romeo.”

  I laughed. “Peace.”

  9

  Fussin’ and Fightin’, Giggles and Gossip

  Gregory—Saturday, June 27, 6:40 p.m.

  This shit was deep. This thing with me and Renee, it was all that and then some. I knew it when I first saw her, I knew it when we first went out, and I was positive after that first episode with the teddy—Renee was it. Problem was, now she was tripping. On the surface it was all cool, like we were still hanging out, going out, and going at it. Really going at it—we were burning up some sheets. And that bed of hers, without getting into it, just know, it was proper.

  But every once in a while, like when there was a lull in the conversation or in the morning when we first woke up, she would eye me with a look that scared the hell out of me. It was a look like, “Who are you, why are you here, what do you want from me, and when are you going to jack this up?” Like she expected me to bolt any minute.

  So I asked her what she was thinking or what might be wrong, and she said, “Nothing.” Yeah, right. I’ve had to prod and push her into every little step. Simplest things like her keeping a pair of jeans and toothbrush over at my place. She looked like she was going to cry when I put my spare shaving kit in her bathroom and hung a suit in her closet.

  I tried to get serious and tell her how I was starting to feel about her, but she didn’t want to hear it. I was in danger of turning into the woman here, trying to express a feeling and getting the cold shoulder! I mean, I wasn’t going to use the L word or anything, but hell, I didn’t want her thinking we were just having a sexfest here and then I was out. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she was good and all, but if that was it, I’d have been long gone when she first came across with the game playing.

  Like this weekend, first she acted like she didn’t want to see me. I had to go over there last night and coax her into coming over. We got back to my place and all of a sudden she was Suzy Homemaker. She cooked, changed the sheets, washed a load of my clothes, and set the table, complete with candles and linen stuff I had used only twice. Then she turned into Jenna Jameson. She served dinner in this long blue sheer nightgownlike thing. Baby should have stock in Victoria’s Secret. Anyway, dinner was a long, drawn-out Playmate of the Month fantasy that ended with her getting carpet burn on that ass.

  This morning, I was persona non grata again. She was holding me at arm’s length, literally. We cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, got dressed, and went to the rec center for my game. She said not two words to me the whole way there. We got there, she saw her girls, and all of a sudden she was all over me. “Gregory and I did this,” and “Gregory and I did that.” She turned into Super Cheerleader, jumping up and down, blowing kisses and shit. After the game, we went for pizza and to the park with Jewel; Rome; and Rome’s boy, Chase. Damned if she wasn’t a mom for all seasons. Got
on the swing sets with the child, hit the jungle gym—I had never seen her like that.

  We got in the car to go to her place, and she was moody again. Not PMS—she got hyper during PMS. Went into overdrive. Cleaned the whole house, cooked huge amounts of food, packaged it and froze it, worked out for hours, and on top of all that, her sexual appetite went through the roof.

  So I had to wonder, was she playing games to keep me on my toes? Was she the moodiest manic-depressive alive? Had she no idea of what we’re doing together? Or was she just so unsure of me that she was running scared and dealing with it the only way she knew how? I was beginning to think it was a combination of all of the above. And I couldn’t figure out why I was hanging in there putting up with all this shit. It was exhausting.

  I heard her coming out of the bathroom, so I turned down the volume on the baseball game I wasn’t really watching anyway. “Renee,” I called to her, and turned sideways on the sofa.

  “Yeah?” She was back in her room.

  “Come here for a minute, will you?” Now, I had to be smooth about this, or she would freeze up on me again. If she isn’t the touchiest woman I’ve ever known.

  She came into the living room wearing a silk paisley robe I hadn’t seen before. Vicki’s summer catalog, no doubt. She smiled at me. A good sign. “What’s up, Greggy?” Another good sign—I was Greggy when she was sure she liked me, Gregory when we were in public or she was looking at me like I was the boogeyman from her childhood nightmares.

  I patted the space beside me. “Come talk to me for a minute.” Uh-oh, there was the look. That deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. “Come on.” I held my hand out and smiled in my most reassuring way.

  Slowly, very slowly, she came over, took my hand, and sat down. She wouldn’t look at me. She stared at the pattern of her robe as if it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

  “Renee, look at me.” Of course, she wouldn’t. I had to do the macho thing and take her chin in my hand and force her to look at me. “What are you so terrified of?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever it is you’re going to say.” Well, at least she was honest.

  “Why? What could I possibly say that’s so terrifying?”

  “That it’s over.” This honest answer stunned the hell out of me. Was the woman blind? Did I look like I was going somewhere?

  I dropped her chin and her hand and jumped up. I was mad—no, pissed. “Renee, do I look like someone on his way out the damned door?” I hold my hands out to the side. I had on a pair of sweatpants and nothing else.

  She shrugged again. I hated that shit. What was that shrugging shit? I clenched my fists in frustration.

  “Renee, what is it you think we’ve been doing these past three months?” She started to tilt her shoulder. “You shrug that one shoulder at me one more good time and I’m gonna lose it, and we don’t want to go there today, sweetheart.” Sometimes you had to get strong.

  She stood up, put her hands on her hips, and raised her brows. “I beg your pardon? You’re gonna lose it? Kiss my ass, Mr. Samson. I’ve been losing it for weeks trying to figure out just what the hell kind of game you’re running around here. And you think you’re losing it? Boy, I could smack you but good.” Peaches came trotting out of the back room. It was the fastest I’d ever seen that lazy hound move. She looked at me, then at Renee, barked once as if to say, “What’s all the noise?” before dropping down for yet another nap.

  I wanted to smile but thought it best if I didn’t. Back to the familiar ways around here: Peaches was napping, and Renee was speaking her mind. At least this was a Renee I knew and liked. One with grit, backbone, and purpose. A direct, no scheme, no scam Renee. Still a disillusioned Renee, but I liked her nonetheless. “Just because you always got a game running doesn’t mean everyone else does, Ms. Nightingale.” Sidestep that one.

  She opened her mouth and closed it before frowning. “Whadaya mean?” Typical evasion.

  I took a step toward her and pointed my finger in her face. “What I mean is, I thought we were in a relationship here. You know, I relate to you, you relate to me. Relating. Having relations, us two, together. Your problem is, you’re too damn insecure and concerned with being played. What would I be playing you for now? I got your ass.”

  She slapped my finger away. I’d never seen her this mad. “You got my ass? I don’t see a ring on my finger. I haven’t heard any promises outta you. I can x your ass anytime I see fit. Listen here, I didn’t even know you this time last year, and I got along fine without your sorry black ass. Just because you sleeping with me doesn’t mean you own me. Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I was getting sexed up this time last year too. And let me tell ya one last thing—last I checked, I’m a free woman.”

  Well, now I was really pissed. How did we get here? I stepped right up to her. “Slow your roll and check a calendar, sweetheart. It is NOW, here, today that I’m trying to talk about. I see two people in this room, and that’s all that concerns me. I don’t give a damn what you did last year, and you needn’t ever, ever bring up old dick to me again. If any of them was worth a shit, you wouldn’t be standing here right now, now would ya? I’m talking about the here and now and the today and tomorrow. You wanna know who you gonna be with? That would be me.”

  “Who in the hell do you think you are?” She took a step back.

  “I think—no, I know—that I’m the best damned thing to ever walk into your life, so don’t even go there with me.” As soon as I said it, I realized how arrogant it made me sound, but it was too late to take it back. Besides, the shit was true. My program was solid and she knew it.

  She stepped forward again. “Oh, like I’m not the best thing that’s ever happened to you in your preppy little bourgie, buppie life? You act like I’m supposed to be grateful to be with you. I’m not some ghetto bitch trying to make the rent. I have, can, and will get along without you. Carry your ass on.” She turned around to walk off, and I caught her arm.

  “Dammit, Renee! You’re making me crazy. I don’t know why I take this shit from you.”

  She waved an arm toward the front door. “Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.” She backed up again.

  I dropped her arm and put my hands on my hips. “Know what, I’d go if I thought you really meant that shit.”

  “Now you can read my mind too? You got to be the most arrogant asshole I’ve ever met.”

  Suddenly, I wasn’t mad anymore. Somehow, I let her goad me into this argument even though I knew she had been spoiling for one for a while now. Any excuse to prove I was really an asshole and not worthy of her time. Something to lump me in with whatever dicks and dogs she’d known in the past. It was a different tactic but still just another one of her little games, little tests.

  When I spoke, my voice was deep and sincere, in a way I knew would hit a nerve. “Renee.” Boom, she looked at me suspiciously, but she quit inching backward. “Somewhere, we got off on the wrong track with this conversation. I’m trying to tell you how much I care about you.”

  “Oh yeah? Is that what you were doing?”

  I was starting to get pissed again. Let a brother try and be nice, for God’s sake! “Renee, chill for a minute and listen to me. I’m not running a line or playing a game. I like you.” I put my hand on her cheek. “Do you hear me? I like you.”

  “Listen to what I’m saying. I ... like ... you.” I knew this would mean a lot more than telling her she was special or crazy fine or sexy as hell. I watched her face, wanting her to understand how much I was laying on the line by saying that.

  She blinked for a second and looked me straight in the eye. Then she nodded. “Okay.”

  So far, so good. I took a breath and pushed on. “I want you to live with me.”

  Her mouth fell open. “What?”

  “Or I could live with you. I like your place better than mine anyway.”

  “What?” She was still standing there with her mouth open.

  “Well, it seems to
me like that’s the next logical step for us. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I spend all my time with you, and this is a good way to see just how right we are for each other before I ask you to marry me. Hey, I’m thirty-three years old. I think by now I know what I want when I see it.” There, I said it.

  “Marry me? What?” Now she was starting to scare me.

  I started backpedaling. “Unless, of course, you don’t feel the same way, in which case I should just pack up my stuff and get the hell outta here.”

  “Oh.” She sat down and put her elbow on her knee and her head in her hand.

  “Uh, Renee?” She looked up at me with the most perplexed expression on her face. “You kinda leaving me hanging here, honey. Could I get some feedback?” I was trying not to sound anxious, but damn, was a brother wanted or not?

  She jumped up and put her arms around me. “How soon can you move your stuff in?”

  Whew! I wrapped my arms around her and relaxed. It was cool. I wasn’t wrong. Damn, I was the man. I was in control. All was as it should be. “We’ll start tomorrow, but I’ll keep my place in case you show me the door again.”

  She laughed into my chest before tilting her face up. “I guess you’re all right to have around.”

  I grinned down at her. “Aw, baby, don’t love me like you do!”

  There was a lot of other crap I could and probably should say right now. We still had a lot of shit to get straight around here—her moods, her suspicions, her feelings. But with her smiling up at me like I just hung the moon especially for her, I kinda thought of something else I’d like to do. Like celebrate this cohabitation thing. I slid my hand down her ass and pulled her flush up against me, a kind of nonverbal question asking, Do you wanna? She went up on her toes and snuggled closer, planting a kiss on my chest, a nonverbal answer: Yeah, let’s. With a move I perfected my sophomore year of college, I eased her backward onto the sofa and stretched out over her. “Let me see if my buppie, arrogant, preppy, bourgie self can figure out what to do here.” I couldn’t resist teasing her.

  She caught me by surprise by sliding out from under me. When I turned to reach for her, she climbed on top of me. I laid back and smirked up at her as she got comfortable straddling my hips. “Greggy, I’m really sorry for most of the things I said.” She didn’t sound too sorry as she slipped out of her robe, wearing nothing underneath. She leaned forward. “Let me see if my insecure, scheming ass can think up a way to apologize.”