The Unexpected Affair Page 13

  “I should never have let him behind the wheel.”

  “You both were intoxicated, and both very young. Allow yourself to be forgiven.”

  Those words made him cry, hard. His guilt was so strong he couldn’t see his way to forgiveness. He’d robbed his mother of a son. He’d robbed Clint and himself of a brother. Whitney wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

  “He had so much going for him.”

  “What do you remember about Tye?”

  Lane thought for a moment. “So much. So many childhood memories of us running up and down the block. He was a great athlete. He was funny, obnoxious at times. I remember some of the crazy things he used to do.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. He also had a way with the ladies. And he was so smart. He had the best memory of anybody I know. In fact, he remembered things that I wished he would forget.” Lane laughed at that memory.

  “You will always have those memories. Nothing can ever take those away. That’s what you hold on to. That’s how you keep him alive in your heart.”

  “We can go now. I don’t ever want to come back here again. I want to remember him living, not dead.”

  “Okay.”

  “I just needed to face my fears, once and for all,” said Lane. “Let’s go home.”

  “You sure? You’ve come a long way in order to say your goodbyes and make your peace.”

  “And I have,” he said. “I also came to check on my mom. See how she’s doing. I abandoned her when she needed me most. Caught up in my own feelings. I want to just spend the last few hours I have with her until we leave for the airport. I know I need to get back here more often.”

  “That would surely make her happy, Lane. Please do that.”

  “Maybe I’ll send for her and Clint to come see me in Texas. Well, she doesn’t fly, but maybe I can drive up and get her.”

  “Maybe,” said Whitney. “She would love it.”

  “She loves garage sales!” Lane laughed at the thought.

  “So do I! You can find some great treasures at garage sales,” said Whitney. “Maybe I could show her some of my favorite places.”

  “You would do that?”

  “Absolutely!”

  Lane pulled Whitney into him, wrapped his arms tightly around her. His lips engulfed hers in a passionate kiss. Where had she been all of his life?

  * * *

  His mother had fried chicken, mashed potatoes, collard greens and corn bread prepared for them when they returned to the house. She’d even skipped church just to have a few extra minutes with them before they were whisked off to Saint Louis Lambert International Airport. The visit was short, but much had been accomplished. Lane had managed to conquer his fears a bit and was even on the road to releasing himself from guilt. It was a process, but at least he’d made the first step.

  “Do you feel like you got closure?” Sylvia asked. She sat directly across from Lane at the dinner table.

  “Somewhat,” said Lane. “I’m working on it.”

  “That’s good, son. We all miss Tye, but we have to move on with our lives. We can’t stop living because he did, you know. And we have to make sure that we stay connected with each other. We’re all we have.”

  “I know, Mama.”

  “Don’t make me come to Texas and whip your natural-born ass.”

  Clint laughed heartily at his mother’s comment.

  “I’m sorry for not coming home sooner,” said Lane as he stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth. “I was just talking to Whitney about flying you and Clint down for a visit.”

  “Boy, you know I am not getting on anybody’s airplane! If God wanted me to fly, he’d have given me wings.”

  Lane looked over at Whitney, who gave him a half smile.

  “We’ll be happy to come back and get you,” said Whitney.

  “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest,” said Sylvia and grabbed Whitney’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “What? That was my idea!” said Lane with a high-pitched voice. “I just told her that.”

  Whitney laughed.

  “Oh, boy, stop whining so much,” said Sylvia with a laugh.

  “He’s always been a whiner, Mama. You know that,” Clint chimed in.

  “Wow! She steals my idea and gets all the credit.”

  “Well, when should I expect this to take place? I’m a busy woman, you know. You have to give me advance notice.”

  “Ma, you’re retired.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t have a life.”

  “She just wants to brag to the sisters at church that she’s going on vacation,” said Clint.

  Lane laughed. “I’ll check my vacation time at work and let you know when I can get away. Sometime within the next month or two.”

  “I’ll be ready.” Sylvia smiled. “I guess I need to go shopping.”

  “Use the account I have set up for you,” said Lane. “Buy whatever you want.”

  “I think I will,” said Sylvia.

  They finished dinner and chatted about what they were going to do in Texas, and then Clint and Lane took bags to the car. The look on his mother’s face broke his heart. He knew it was hard for her to watch him leave. She’d miss him. She’d had so much life while he was there; he hoped she wouldn’t go back to grieving. He needed to make good on his promise of returning to Saint Louis, and he would. The trip home had empowered him.

  By the time the flight had ascended into the air, Whitney was asleep. She rested her head against Lane’s shoulder, and he placed his head against the top of hers. Life was good at that moment. When he returned to Dallas, he would search for a ring—a ruby or something—not just a regular old diamond. He’d done some research and discovered that ruby was her birthstone. And not an engagement ring, just a friendship one. Well, maybe a little more than friendship. Maybe a ring that said I want to be more than friends, but not quite married. There was no doubt in his mind that he loved this woman. He had come to that conclusion. Now he just needed to express it to her.

  * * *

  He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a thick towel around his waist. He brushed his teeth, while Whitney wrapped her arms around him from behind.

  “What time do you go in tomorrow?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  “Wow, can they make it any earlier?” She reached into the pocket of her robe, pulled out a key. “Here, take this. You can lock up in the morning when you leave so that I don’t have to get up. I’ll be deep into my dreams about that time.”

  He turned around and faced her. “You sure?”

  “Of course. It’s not a big deal. I’ll get it back from you later.”

  He took the key and placed it on the bathroom sink. Went back to brushing his teeth as she removed her robe and stepped into the shower. When she walked into the bedroom, dry and naked, he was waiting for her. His body was stretched across her king-size bed, and he propped himself up on his elbow. He watched as she moved toward her nightie drawer.

  “No need for that.” He grinned. He grabbed her by the arm, pulled her onto the bed. “Come here.”

  She landed on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest. He kissed her lips, and his tongue danced inside her mouth. He grabbed the roundness of her butt, and then his fingertips danced up and down her back. His lips abandoned hers and made their way to her plump breasts, inhaled each one. His tongue swirled around her nipples. He parted her thighs and then flipped her over onto her back. He planted gentle kisses along her neck, breasts and stomach. His fingers gently entered her, played with her, danced inside her. She moaned with desire.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “You like that, baby?” he asked.

  “So much.” She shook with desire.

  He en
tered her and made sweet love to the woman he’d fallen for. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and he knew that he wanted to make her feel this way forever.

  Chapter 23

  She was ready to tell her friends about him. She needed to tell someone about this man who didn’t have all of the qualities on her Man Menu but who brought chills up and down her spine and made her toes curl. They needed to know that she was happy. That after years of running men away, she’d finally found one she wanted to stay.

  She’d trusted him enough to give him a key to her home. And they were spending so much time together that he’d given her a key to his home, as well. They weren’t moving in together but thought it necessary to have access to each other’s lives and space. She’d become quite comfortable with him and decided to drop by his place after work to whip him up a nice Bahamian meal before he got home from his long, stressful day.

  She rubbed Bahamian seasonings on the fish and placed it in the oven. She chopped fresh cabbage and placed it into a pot. She whipped up a pot of peas and rice and re-created her mother’s johnnycakes. The smell in the house reminded her of home. She turned up the volume on her Caribbean playlist—allowed Tarrus Riley to tease her senses. She shook her hips Bahamian-style.

  * * *

  Her friends had been blowing up her phone since before she’d gone to Saint Louis. She felt it was time to finally catch up with them. She called them both on a three-way and placed them on speakerphone as she continued to prepare her island favorites.

  “So we’re glad to finally catch up with you,” said Kenya. “I’ve been worried.”

  “I’m doing fine. No need to worry, Mother.”

  “Haven’t talked to you since Max’s. And we talk just about every day!”

  “I know, honey. And I’m sorry. There’s just been so much going on.”

  “I’ll say!” exclaimed Tasha. “You’ve been quite busy.”

  “When are we going to meet him? You’ve already gone trampling to the Bahamas with him. And did I understand correctly? You’ve gone to his home in Saint Louis, too?” asked Kenya. She seemed betrayed. “But you haven’t even introduced him to your besties.”

  “I will! I promise,” said Whitney.

  “Who is this guy? Is it Will’s friend? The one who owns his own business?”

  “It’s not Will’s friend,” said Kenya. “She blew him off. It’s the truck driver.”

  “Truck driver?” asked Tasha, and Whitney could just imagine that she had a turned-up nose. “Are you kidding?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Whitney asked. “He’s a hardworking, upstanding man.”

  “What kind of future is that for you, Whit?” asked Tasha. “Have you forgotten about our Man Menu? We don’t date men who drives trucks.”

  “You must really like him, though,” said Kenya, “because we haven’t seen you in, like, forever.”

  “Does he have anything on your list?” Tasha asked. “At least eighty percent?”

  Whitney was hesitant to respond. “He has some.”

  “What’s his salary?” Tasha demanded.

  “I don’t know what his salary is...and I don’t care.”

  She hadn’t heard Lane walk into the house, and it was too late to stop her friends from completely humiliating him. She hoped that he’d missed most of Tasha’s comments, but he hadn’t. He’d heard it all.

  “Look, ladies, I’m sorry, but I have to go,” said Whitney.

  “We’re not done with you, sister,” said Kenya.

  “I promise we’ll do dinner one day this week.”

  “Yeah, we’ll finish this later,” said Tasha. “My masseur is here, and he needs my full attention, but let’s do dinner this week.”

  “Love you, Whit. We’ll talk later,” said Kenya.

  “Okay,” she said before hanging up.

  Lane had retreated to his bedroom, pulled boots from his aching feet. He sat on the edge of the bed. His face held a frown. She stepped into his arms, but his embrace wasn’t as strong as it normally was.

  “I made you a nice Bahamian meal,” she said cheerfully.

  “Smells good,” he said. “I’m going to hop into the shower.”

  “Lane!” she called as he left the room. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”

  “You sure you don’t want a guy who works for corporate America, a white-collar dude, with a six-figure salary?” he asked.

  “I’m sure. I want you.”

  “I’m not what you want, Whitney,” he told her. “You should move on.”

  “I don’t want to move on. I want you.”

  “I really just want to be alone right now. I had a really hard day.”

  “Are you asking me to leave?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “You’re serious right now.” It was more of a statement rather than a question.

  “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

  “What about the food I just prepared?”

  He shrugged.

  Her heart was broken. He pushed past her and went into the bathroom to shower. She went into the kitchen, packed food into plastic dishes. She grabbed her wine that had been chilling in the refrigerator and left his place, frustrated. She started her car and sat there for a moment. Tears welled in her eyes and she allowed them to roll down her cheeks. Just when he’d finally made it past the friend zone, and when she’d finally had the courage to let someone in—all the way in—she regretted it. To finally give a relationship a chance at longevity, and here he was telling her to move on. Tears blurred her vision as she drove home. She told herself that she would never let her guard down again.

  She sat in her kitchen and ate Bahamian food alone, washed it down with two glasses of Riesling. No music and the kitchen light was the only light in the house. She ate in silence. Thought of calling or texting Lane, but he’d been very clear about her leaving. She would give him his space. He would come around. She placed dishes into the dishwasher and started it.

  Started the shower. After showering, she lay in bed, stared at the ceiling. Wondered if Lane would at least call or text to say good-night. He always did. However, her phone didn’t ring, nor was there a jingle that indicated she had a text message. She thought he was overreacting but would give him his space. Tomorrow was a new day. She turned off her bedside light and shut her eyes.

  Chapter 24

  His day had sucked. Every moment of it. He’d overreacted. He realized it later. He’d let his frustrations from the job get the best of him. And it hadn’t helped that Whitney’s friends didn’t think he was good enough for her. He regretted letting her walk out that door, but his ego had gotten the best of him, and since he had run into yet another incident at work, he was drowning in self-pity.

  This time, his supervisor insisted that he terminate an employee, one who, in Lane’s opinion, didn’t warrant termination. Sure, Tyler was Melvin’s nephew, but he was also a hard, upstanding worker. He’d proved himself in just a short time. He was one of his best guys. Recently his past had reared its ugly head, and he’d gotten pulled over and arrested for a warrant he hadn’t had a chance to take care of. He’d told Lane about it a few days before, and Lane had promised to help him fix things.

  After being bailed out of jail, Tyler had been tardy that morning. Lane preferred to give him a warning rather than terminate him, but his new supervisor insisted on termination. He found himself in a hard place. If he fired Tyler, he risked his friendship with Melvin. If he refused, he risked his own reprimand. Particularly since this was his third run-in with his first-line supervisor.

  “If you won’t do it, then I will,” his first-line had insisted. “And you can enjoy a three-day suspension.”

  “I won’t fire him. He’s one of my best guys.”

 
“He was late again. The second time in less than thirty days, and if you haven’t forgotten, he’s still on probation.”

  “He had a good excuse for being late.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I won’t fire him. I’ll give him a warning. Third time, and I’ll let him go.”

  “No! You’ll let him go this time.”

  “I won’t,” said Lane. “Do what you gotta do.”

  “Fine. You’re suspended for three days. You can pack up and go home.”

  He’d been suspended for standing up for what was right. He removed his hard hat and vest and packed his things, threw them into the bed of his truck. He started his truck, turned the Lil Wayne track up as loud as it would go and then peeled out of the parking lot. He would fight the suspension, but he was so angry he saw red. Couldn’t wait to contact the owner of the company and plead his case. But in the meantime, he needed to figure out how to make up three days’ worth of pay.

  Whitney had already texted that she was headed to his place and that she’d be preparing a meal. Before this happened, he was excited about spending the evening with her. However, on the drive home, he’d changed his mind. Wanted to be alone and wallow in his despair. And when he’d heard the comments of Whitney’s uppity friends on the phone, he admitted, he’d lost his head.

  She deserved someone else, he thought. Someone more refined or sophisticated. Someone who had more than a few qualities on her so-called Man Menu. Who was he fooling, thinking that he was good enough? He was a truck driver with baggage and emotional issues. There were guys out there who were a better fit. And if he weren’t in the way, she might be able to find them. He decided that he would give her the space to do exactly that.

  He stretched out on the sofa, something he hadn’t done in weeks. Since Whitney had come into his life, she had him actually sleeping in his bed. She packed him healthy lunches and prepared dinner on days he was too tired to prepare it for himself. He’d gone from eating bowls of cereal and ice cream for dinner to eating healthy Bahamian meals. He’d even seen a change in his waistline. He would certainly miss those things, but being a bachelor wasn’t so bad.