The Unexpected Affair Read online

  “Alyson!” Beverly exclaimed.

  “It’s the truth, Mother,” she said and then poured herself another glass of wine.

  “Well, I love my husband!” said Jasmine. “He’s an amazing man.”

  “I love my husband, too,” said Savannah. “I’ve always loved Edward, even after we divorced. I’m so thankful for our second chance.”

  “I’m happy for you both,” said Whitney. “I’ve always loved you, Savannah. Just like a sister.”

  “I’ve always loved you, too!” Savannah wrapped her arms around Whitney. “I’ve always loved you all.”

  Jasmine blew Savannah a kiss.

  “Edward was so pathetic without you,” said Alyson. “He was like a lovesick puppy when he thought he’d lost you. Showed up on my doorstep trying to enlist my help. I’m glad you finally rescued him from his misery.”

  “If that’s your way of saying you’ve always loved me, Alyson, I’ll take it.” Savannah smiled at her sister-in-law.

  Alyson sighed. Shook her head. “Yes, I’ve always loved you, too.”

  The women all laughed heartily. Alyson played hard, but they all knew that beneath her hard exterior was a loving woman.

  * * *

  When Whitney could no longer keep her eyes open, she retreated to the old bedroom that she’d shared with Jasmine. She wasn’t surprised to find that it was pretty close to the way they’d left it when they both went away to college. It was untouched unless she or Jasmine came home for a visit. The room with pink walls, two twin beds and posters of Caribbean artists on the wall always brought back a ton of memories. Good ones. She loved growing up in the Caribbean, and especially the Eleuthera Islands. It was a place where people were genuine. You could leave your front door open at night and not have to worry about being vandalized. Not like the States, or the other islands for that matter—where crime was prevalent. People slept with guns beneath their pillows.

  She changed into a pair of boy-cut shorts and a gray T-shirt with Pink written across the front. She slipped beneath the covers on one of the twin beds and rested her head against the soft pillow. She grabbed her phone. Checked her email and then logged into Twitter. Sent a tweet and then logged into her Facebook account—scrolled along her timeline to see what had been posted. Her phone chimed when she received a text message. Lane.

  Are you asleep?

  Not quite.

  You didn’t say good-night.

  You were busy.

  Can we go for that walk on the beach?

  Now?

  Yes.

  Okay. Meet you out front.

  She sat up on the side of the bed. She slipped on a pair of shorts. Checked her face in the mirror and decided to dab a little eyeliner on her eyes. Popped a breath mint into her mouth and then slipped out of the room, down the hall and then slowly eased the front door open. Lane stood out front waiting for her.

  “Hi, stranger,” he said.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” She tilted her head to the side, smiled.

  “I am. Your brothers are cool. And so is your pops.”

  “I’m glad you like them. And they like you,” she said. “They make everyone feel like family.”

  “Wow, what a way to burst my bubble. I thought I was special.”

  “You are.” She laughed and then led the way down the road toward the ocean.

  She was surprised when Lane grabbed her hand, intertwined his fingers with hers.

  “I’m sorry about them badgering you earlier. Getting all in your business. Those Talbots can be nosy sometimes.”

  “It’s okay. They’re just looking out for you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never brought anyone home. Not for a long time.”

  “I see,” said Lane. “Well, now I feel special.”

  “Good!” She took her flip-flops off when they reached the sand.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” he said. “Again, I can’t believe you left this place.”

  “I had to go find my way, my place in the world. Higher education was never an option for us, always a requirement. Except for my brother Denny, who opted for the military instead.”

  “So I heard. He told me all about it. And your brother Nate told me all about his art career in Atlanta, and Edward told me about his political career in Florida. And your father told me what it was like growing up in Key West.” Lane smiled. “I feel like I’ve known them all forever.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Made me feel closer to you.” He stopped walking and pulled her close.

  She rested her head against his chest, felt his heartbeat—breathed in his scent. She turned her head, placed her chin against his chest and looked into his eyes. He leaned down and before she could protest, his lips were already against hers and his tongue already probing the inside of her mouth. His fingertips began to caress her ample breasts. She should’ve stopped him. It was too soon for him to touch her in places that sent chills to her spine like that. Instead she caressed his strong chest.

  He plopped down into the sand and pulled her down with him. Kneeling, her knees rested between his legs for a moment. He lay on his back and she found herself on top of him, straddling him. Her eyes closed tightly, he kissed her with intensity, hungrily. She’d never been kissed like that. She could feel him rising between her legs. She moaned. He sent her hormones into a whirlwind. His hands crept underneath her shirt, loosened her bra.

  She pushed away from him. Stood. Breathing heavily, she said, “Too much. Too fast.”

  Eyes glazed, he rested upon his elbows. “Sorry.”

  “No apology necessary. It’s just...”

  “I know.”

  She fastened her bra and fixed her disheveled hair. Reached her hand out to help him up from the sand. Instead he pulled her back down, and she sat in between his legs, faced the ocean. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, rested his chin on top of her head. The waves made a tune as they crashed against the shore. As the moon rested against the dark sky, they talked about first loves and first kisses and laughed about family. The connection between them was undeniable.

  A full two hours later, Whitney found it difficult to hold her eyes open.

  “Let me get you home,” he whispered.

  She shook her head yes. “Long flight. Long day.”

  “When you’re ready, I’m going to make sweet love to you. Like you’ve never been loved before.”

  Judging from the way her body had reacted only hours before, she believed him. No need denying that truth or challenging it. She would lose for sure.

  Chapter 14

  Whitney flipped hotcakes over a heated stove. Placed them on a platter. A set of earbuds in her ears, she moved her hips in a fast circular motion, engaging her body in a very sexy dance. Lane leaned against the doorpost, watching—a slight grin in the corner of his mouth. She had no idea he was there, and he liked it that way. The girl had rhythm, he thought, and a set of hips that he loved to watch.

  She turned and saw him there. She jumped! He’d startled her. She pulled the earbuds from her ears.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Watching you.” He grinned wider. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that, you know.”

  “I didn’t sneak.”

  “You should’ve made your presence known.” She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.” He said it seductively. There was a new sexual energy between them. One that wasn’t there before.

  “I mean for food.”

  “Yes, that, too,” he said with a grin.

  “Well, have a seat.”

  He pulled a chair from the kitchen table, sat down and rested his elbows on the tabl
e. Watched as Whitney loaded bacon, eggs and hotcakes onto a plate, placed it in front of him. She made herself a plate and set it opposite his.

  “Looks good,” he said.

  “Eat up. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  “What are we doing?”

  “We’re going to start with shopping. Then I’m going to show you around the island a bit. We’ll go jet-skiing and maybe have a bite to eat at one of the eateries on Harbour Island. I want to show you the Grove, our family’s B and B. If all goes well, we’ll be spending the night there.”

  “Nice.”

  “My brother’s reception will be there tonight.” Whitney sat across from him at the table. “We’ll both be too intoxicated to make the long journey back to Governor’s Harbour, so we’ll just stay there.”

  “So you’ve already peeked into our future and know that we’ll be intoxicated. Fascinating.”

  “Yes,” she said. “But don’t tell my mother. She wants us to stay here. Doesn’t understand that I need some alone time.”

  “So you want to be alone with me?” he asked.

  She sighed. Smiled. “Eat your food.”

  * * *

  Whitney maneuvered her father’s pickup down Queen’s Highway, pointing out every landmark that Lane might be interested in knowing about. She showed him her old high school and her family’s church. After stocking up on souvenirs at the gift shop, she’d managed to talk him into an early lunch on Harbour Island. He placed sunglasses on his face, rolled his window down and breathed in the beautiful island air.

  She parked her father’s truck at the boat dock, and they took the water taxi over to Harbour Island. The two of them snagged a high-top table on the patio at the restaurant, Queen Conch. Whitney sipped on a glass of ice water, while Lane gave the menu a look over.

  “What do you recommend?”

  “What do you like?”

  “Anything seafood,” said Lane.

  “Are you open to trying new things?” She smiled.

  “Somewhat.”

  “Try the conch salad.”

  “Conch?” he asked with a frown.

  “It’s a shellfish commonly eaten here in the Bahamas,” she explained. “You had it in the fritters at dinner last night.”

  “Okay, I’ll try it.” He hoped he didn’t regret his order. After all, he was a meat-and-potatoes type of guy, a full two hundred seventy-five pounds with a hearty appetite.

  “Maybe you should order the grouper fish, as well.”

  “I will.” He gave her a smile that had nothing to do with food. “I’ve enjoyed my trip so far. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “I’m glad. And no thanks necessary,” she said. “You needed a vacation. You appear to be a workaholic.”

  “I’m not a workaholic,” he challenged.

  “When was the last time you took a vacation? I mean, like a real one—where you hopped on a plane and went somewhere.”

  “It’s been a while. I haven’t even been home to Saint Louis in a long time.”

  “Why haven’t you gone home to visit your mum?”

  “Long story.”

  “I have time,” said Whitney.

  “A lot of sad memories in that place. Ever since my brother died, it hasn’t been the same,” he said.

  “What happened to your brother? Was he sick?”

  “A car accident. We were both way too drunk, and neither of us should’ve been driving. But he insisted. And ended up dead, and here I am reliving it every single day of my life.”

  Whitney grabbed his hands. Held them tightly. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

  “Had I not been intoxicated, I’d have made a rational decision. I would never have let him behind that wheel.” Tears welled in his eyes, but he fought them with every inch of his being. He wouldn’t let her see him cry. He changed the subject. It was enough talk of Tye and that dreadful night. He lived it enough in his dreams; he didn’t need to live it while awake, too. “I have promised myself that I’m going home soon, though.”

  “I’m sure your mother misses that beautiful face of yours,” she said. “Don’t make her feel as if she’s lost two sons.”

  Lane hung his head. His mother had told him the same thing the last time he spoke with her.

  “You’re right,” he said and then quickly changed the subject from talk of Tye and his mother and home. “What are you having to eat?”

  “The fritters.” She smiled softly. “And don’t disregard my comment.”

  “I didn’t.” He laughed a little. How did this woman know him so well? He looked her square in the eyes. “I said you were right.”

  “I have friends who have lost their mothers. Don’t take yours for granted.” She took another sip of her water. “Just sayin’.”

  She was right. He knew it.

  * * *

  Several rum punches later, the two took the water taxi back.

  “Are you able to drive? You’ve been drinking, and I don’t like the thought of that one bit.”

  “I haven’t had nearly as much as you think.”

  He wouldn’t relive his nightmare again. He would drive himself, but he’d never driven in the Bahamas and driving on the opposite side of the road was an intimidating thought.

  “Are you sure? Maybe we can take a taxi and pick up your father’s truck later.”

  “I’m fine. I swear.”

  He gave in but promised himself that the moment she looked out of control, she was pulling the truck over and calling for a taxi. Whitney drove her father’s truck back to her parents’ home without incident. They had a short time to dress and prepare for Edward’s reception. Lane wasn’t happy about having to wear a suit, but he’d get over it. After all, he wouldn’t have to wear it for long.

  He made his way to the guest bedroom where he’d spent the night before. Pulled his navy suit out of the closet and laid it across the bed. He pulled his shoes out of his bag and gave them a quick shine. Sat on the edge of the bed. Thoughts of Whitney swirled in his head. He was feeling something for the woman who seemed to know him too well. He was comfortable with her—the girl-next-door type of comfortable.

  After a quick shower, he was suited and smelling like Kenneth Cole’s Black cologne. He took one last glimpse in the mirror before heading for the living room to wait for Whitney.

  “Well, don’t you look handsome,” said Beverly Talbot.

  “Thank you.” He gave her a smile. “You look lovely, too.”

  She was dressed in a navy dress with lace. Lane took note of how beautiful the middle-aged woman was and wondered if Whitney would look like her when she was older. They shared the same smile and eyes.

  “You’re too sweet,” said Beverly. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m having sky juice.”

  He followed her to the kitchen, where she prepared him a drink with gin and coconut milk. He wasn’t much of a gin drinker, so he sipped slowly. But he wanted to be sociable and try new things, as Whitney had suggested earlier.

  “Hello, son. You look nice,” said Paul John as he entered the kitchen and slapped Lane on the back. “You clean up well.”

  Lane chuckled, thinking he must’ve looked pretty bad if Mr. Talbot thought he cleaned up well.

  He smiled and said, “Thank you, sir.”

  “Mother, have you seen my black slacks?” asked Denny in a panic.

  “You’re not dressed yet?” Beverly frowned at her son. “What have you been doing all this time?”

  “Looking for my slacks!” exclaimed Denny as he rushed out of the kitchen in a panic.

  “He’s been playing video games all day. What is he, twelve?” Nate asked to no one in particular as he entered the room. “Lane, nice s
uit.”

  “Thanks,” said Lane as he sipped his sky juice.

  “I see my mother has introduced you to her tonic,” he said. “Careful, it creeps up on you.”

  “Okay.”

  “And where’s the diva?” asked Nate, grabbing a Bahamian beer from the refrigerator.

  “The diva is right here,” said Whitney as she entered the kitchen wearing a short silver body-con dress that hugged every inch of her figure. The low-cut front revealed cleavage.

  Lane was captivated. “Wow,” he said.

  Her eyes met his. “Look at you! All handsome and stuff.”

  “Dapper, huh?” He smiled.

  “Very.”

  “That dress is pretty short,” Nate commented. “Mum, you see how short this dress is? Is that appropriate for a wedding reception? You should go change.”

  “Shut up!” exclaimed Whitney and slapped her hand against her brother’s chest.

  “Do you wear this stuff in front of your kindergarten class at school?”

  “I’m not at school, and my children aren’t here,” said Whitney. “And where is Denny? We’re riding with him.”

  “Looking for his trousers.”

  “Jeez!” said Whitney. “Maybe we’ll take a cab to the water taxi.”

  “Nobody’s taking a cab anywhere,” said Paul John. “I’ll drive you two to the water taxi while Denny gets dressed.”

  Chapter 15

  Her family’s property, the Grove, was breathtaking—three historical beachfront properties on Harbour Island converted into beautiful bed-and-breakfasts. Each had its own distinct personality, theme and name. The Talbot House had flair and spunk and boasted bright colors. The Clydesdale had a musical ambiance, where portraits of jazz and Caribbean music legends adorned the walls, with a baby grand piano in the Grand Room. Decorated in tropical Caribbean colors, Samson Place was the most tranquil of the three.

  Edward and Savannah’s reception was to be held at the Clydesdale. It was the house where the family hosted their parties and special events. Lane and Whitney stepped inside the Grand Room of the Clydesdale. People had started to gather. Some of them sipped on cocktails and nibbled on hors d’oeuvres while chattering. Caribbean music played softly.