Back to Your Love Page 3

  In front of the table stood Tyrone, his arm draped around Georgia’s waist. Not bothering to break eye contact with his new wife, Tyrone spoke loudly to be heard throughout the room. “Georgia and I want to thank you all for coming out. We love you and all that jazz, but it’s time for me and my wife to get this honeymoon started.”

  More cheers met that declaration, followed by a round of hoots and whistles as Tyrone leaned down to kiss Georgia right on the lips.

  The blushing bride tried to hide her smile behind her hand but didn’t succeed.

  Tyrone reached for Georgia, sweeping her off her feet and up into his arms. The sound of cheering and applause rose to epic levels as the groom carried the bride out of the ballroom.

  As they disappeared through the door, Georgia tossed her pearl-encrusted brooch bouquet. A few women dashed in the direction of the sparkly, flying object.

  Imani took a single step forward, stuck out her hand, and the bouquet fell right into it.

  Grasping the bouquet to her chest, she turned to Xavier. “I think it’s all right for us to leave now. Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

  He agreed.

  * * *

  Holding her stilettos by the straps, Imani led Xavier out of the ballroom with her free hand. Across from the ballroom was a smaller room set aside for guests to use as a coat closet and storage area. She ducked into it, pulling him in behind her.

  He followed her inside, confusion knitting his thick brow. “What are we doing in here?”

  She tucked her heels into the large tote bag she’d brought in earlier, then stashed the brooch bouquet behind it. “I wanted to drop this stuff off without going back up to my room.”

  “So where are we going?”

  She smiled. “The beach. Now get out of that penguin suit.”

  As if he finally got her meaning, he shrugged out of his sport coat. Hanging it and the green vest on a wooden hanger dangling from one of the three garment racks in the room, he sat for a moment to take off his wingtips and dress socks. When he stood again, he’d rolled up the legs of his slacks. “Let’s go.”

  She smiled and grabbed his hand, and the two of them strolled barefoot down the corridor to the double doors leading outside.

  They traversed a stone patio, then a grassy knoll before arriving on the beach. The sandy strip stretched on for miles, surrounding the rear of the hotel.

  As soon as her feet sank into the yielding sand, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. The half-moon hanging high overhead illuminated the dunes as well as the dark, crystalline surface of the Atlantic. The quiet was broken only by the sound of the waves and the muffled notes of the music still being played in the ballroom.

  He squeezed her hand. “It’s beautiful out here.”

  She sighed. “It is. I have a fantastic view of the water from my room.”

  “Lucky you. My balcony faces the parking lot of the hotel next door.”

  It was small talk. They both knew it; he was probably just matching her banter. He was the kind of man who was considerate and secure enough to follow her lead, and that was a quality she’d always found attractive.

  She glanced up at him, taking in the sight of him. The moon glow revealed his features: the strong jaw, the full lips, and the dark, expressive pools of his eyes. “I’ll show you the view from my balcony later.”

  His expression remained even. “No rush. You’ll show me when you’re ready.”

  She gave his hand a gentle tug, and they started to walk along the beach.

  Mindful of their formal attire, she kept a good distance away from the water’s edge. They took the first few steps in silence, and she enjoyed the feeling of his strong hand wrapped around hers. It had been a long time since she’d felt this relaxed, and she’d never really achieved this level of comfort with any other man. Xavier had been the only one to claim her heart, partly because he made her feel so protected, so cherished.

  “Remember our senior trip to Atlantic Beach?” The deep timbre of his voice broke into her thoughts.

  She smiled. “Sure, I remember.” How could she have forgotten that trip? It was the first time she’d experienced the special magic that could exist between a man and a woman.

  “It was right after your eighteenth birthday, wasn’t it?” His gaze went past her, as if he were looking out over the surface of the water. “That last night still sticks in my mind, you know.”

  She watched his face, saw the wistful expression. Up until now, she’d had no idea men held on to memories like that; then again, Xavier wasn’t like any other man she’d ever known. “Really? You still think about that night, all these years later?”

  He nodded. “Why not? That night was special to me.” He paused, shifted his gaze back to her. “You were special to me. You still are.”

  A shiver went down her spine. She stopped walking, and he stopped with her. There, in the circle of his arms, she let her feet sink into the warm sand as her mind drifted back to that night. Her eyes closed, and she could clearly recall the sensation of his warm mouth on her skin and the way she’d felt when he’d taken his kisses between her thighs.

  He whispered in her ear, “We’d made love before that night. But that was the first time I took you…there.”

  A soft groan escaped her, because she knew just what he was referring to. She’d given him her virginity on her birthday. But that night, the last night of their senior trip to celebrate their high school graduation, had been the first time he’d brought her to orgasm. That night, he’d effectively branded her, leaving an imprint on her body and soul that could never be taken away.

  The feel of his lips pressing against her throat brought her back to the present. He placed a few fleeting kisses along her neck, trailing across the shoulder bared by her dress. “God, Imani. I can still hear you moaning, calling my name. It was like a song, like sweet music to my ears, baby.”

  Her knees went weak, buckled beneath her. The steadying strength of his embrace kept her upright. “Xavier…”

  He smothered her words, placing his lips against hers. As the kiss deepened, she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to his. Every nerve, every cell in her body cried out for this, for his touch, his kiss. Her tongue darted between his lips, and he suckled the tip of it. The action drew a groan from her.

  His large hands slipped from her waist to move lower, where he gave her behind a series of gentle squeezes.

  She groaned again, the sound muffled by his kiss. Having him touch her this way was sheer delight, sending her senses reeling.

  He broke the kiss, straightened. “Baby, I think it’s time we went upstairs. I would hate for these fancy clothes to be ruined in this wet sand.”

  She loved being on the beach, loved the feel of the breeze coming off the water as it played over her skin. She didn’t know if it was his touch or the two glasses of champagne she’d had, or both, that was quelling her good judgment. At that moment, her desire for Xavier overrode all else. “Let’s go.”

  They joined hands again and made their way back to the hotel.

  Inside the building, they took the elevator to the eighth floor, stealing kisses as the car ascended. When the doors opened, they hurried down the hallway toward her room. A palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air between them.

  When she extracted the key from inside her strapless bra, he chuckled. Unlocking the door, she opened it, and they entered the room.

  The door closed behind them, and she fumbled around in the darkness until she snapped on a lamp. Dim light flooded the space.

  He stood a few feet away from her. “I think you’d better show me the view now. Otherwise, we may not get around to it.”

  She slid the curtain open, then unlatched the sliding glass doors, gesturing for him to follow her.

  Soon they were standing outside on the small balcony, ove
rlooking the beach and the ocean beyond. A few thick clouds now encroached on the moonlight, but there was still enough light to see the beauty of the scenery.

  He moved behind her, slid his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him, letting their bodies mold to each other. He was hard for her, and she took pleasure in feeling the hard length of him pushed up against her behind.

  When his hand touched her bare leg and began to raise the hem of her dress, she was drawn out of the blissful, dreamlike state she’d been in. Suddenly things had gotten all too real. She used her hand to stay his.

  His brow knit in confusion, but he stopped. “Are you okay, Imani?”

  She turned around to face him. “I’m sorry, Xavier. I can’t do this.”

  His eyes held concern. “Have I made you uncomfortable? If I have, I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “No, Xavier, you haven’t. This is completely on me. I shouldn’t have let things go this far in the first place.”

  Releasing his hold on her, he backed up a few inches. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not disappointed. But I’m also not going to pressure you.”

  She released a soft sigh, feeling an odd mixture of relief and regret. “I’m sorry. I got a little carried away. You look so handsome today, and I know there’s a connection between us, but it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

  “And you don’t feel comfortable jumping into anything physical right now.” He finished her statement.

  “Right.” She looked into his eyes, noting how they seemed both familiar and foreign. “It’s almost as if we’re starting over from scratch.”

  He offered a wry smile, brushed his knuckle over her cheek. “I won’t stay and make this more awkward. But when all this is over, I’ll get in contact with you.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  They reentered her hotel room, and he crossed to the door. Opening it, he stopped long enough to glance back in her direction. “Good night, Imani.”

  “Good night, Xavier.”

  She watched as he slipped out, letting the door close behind him.

  Then she lay back on the bed in the silent room, listening to the waves crashing against the shore.

  Chapter 3

  Arms loaded with throw pillows, Imani tried her best to kick open the door to the building she’d leased for her dermatology practice. After a few kicks, her cousin and soon-to-be office manager Maya took pity on her and opened the door.

  “Thanks,” Imani called from behind the mound of pillows.

  “It was either open the door or let you kick it in,” Maya replied in a humor-filled voice. “Why on earth would you need that many pillows anyway?”

  Dropping the pile on the gray leather sofa in the waiting area, she flopped down next to them. “Come on, Maya. I’m trying to create an atmosphere for my patients.” And she was. Everything, from the silvery paint on the walls to the gray-and-black marble floors and brushed-nickel knobs and fixtures, had been carefully chosen to create a professional but relaxing environment.

  Maya rolled her eyes. “Girl, they’re coming to get their skin problems fixed. They’re not moving in.” With a chuckle, she went back to hanging photos of exotic flowers and plants on the walls.

  Imani placed the black-and-white pillows in the appointed spots on the sofa, overstuffed chairs, and love seat, then went back outside to bring in the last two chairs for the waiting area. Once the chairs, upholstered in the same black-and-white diamond pattern as the pillows, were slid into place near the small console table, she stood back and admired her work.

  Maya called out over her hammering, “Do you think we’ll really be ready to open in three days?”

  “I hope so. I’ve got six patients on the schedule for the first day.” She could feel herself perspiring from the day’s labor. In a pair of gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved black T and sneakers, she wasn’t feeling glamorous by any means but was properly dressed for arranging furniture. She snatched the bandana off her hair and used it to mop the sweat from her brow. “There’s not much left to do.”

  Maya hung a photograph of a dew-dampened black orchid and stood back to admire it. “I’m quite the little photographer, aren’t I?” She’d taken all the floral photographs on a vacation to South America with her husband last year.

  Imani had to agree. “You are. It really does look nice.” Looking around, she could see that the pictures were the perfect finishing touch for the waiting area.

  A loud knock on the glass door caught the attention of both women.

  “The cleaning crew isn’t due for another hour,” Maya remarked, glancing at her watch.

  Shrugging her shoulders, Imani went to the door. Seeing the brown uniform of a deliveryman, she opened it. “Yes?”

  “I’ve got a package for Imani Grant,” he said, barely looking up from his plastic clipboard.

  “That’s me.”

  “Sign here, please.” He thrust the clipboard and a pen forward, and she signed in the place he indicated. With a murmured thanks, he handed her the package and departed.

  Stepping back into the waiting area, she eyed the medium-sized package. It wasn’t very heavy, so she carried it to the reception desk and set it down.

  “What’s that?” Maya stared, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t know. Everything I ordered is already here.” She sat in the chair behind the desk, turning the box this way and that. On the label, she saw the return address.

  The package was from Xavier.

  “Good grief,” she groused. “It’s from Xavier Whitted.”

  A wide grin spread across Maya’s face. “When did y’all get back together?”

  “We didn’t,” she replied, using a pair of scissors to break the seal of the clear packing tape. “He was in Georgia’s wedding last weekend, and we ran into each other.” Slicing through the tape, she added, “He still has feelings for me, or so he says.” She left out their little encounter on the hotel room balcony. The last thing she needed was a lecture from Maya.

  “That’s my cousin, ever the skeptic.” Maya sidled over to the desk, peering at the package with interest. “I wonder what it is.”

  “You’re so nosy.”

  “And you’re full of crap.” Maya wagged a finger in her direction as she returned to hanging photos. “Something happened between you two at the wedding. I just know it.”

  Imani rolled her eyes. “Hush, Maya.”

  “Fine. Don’t tell me.” Maya began rocking side to side and sang the lyrics to the nineties hit by the R & B group the Rude Boys. “It’s written all over your face. You don’t have to say a word…”

  Imani could feel her face getting warm, and she knew she was probably blushing. Maya was like a sister to her, and Imani sometimes hated that Maya could see right through her. As much as she loved her cousin, she didn’t want to get into a debate with her about what happened with Xavier or about the crazy notion of them getting back together.

  “Oh, so now you’re getting quiet? I’m guessing he doesn’t know about…Atlanta.”

  She cringed against the pain of that memory and the shame it brought. “No. No one knows about that except you. There’s the little matter of the gag order, remember?”

  Maya’s smile held sympathy. “I know, girl. Still, they say love heals all.”

  Pursing her lips, Imani cut her cousin a look. “Chill, Maya. We’re both very different from who we were in high school. I’m busy here with the practice, and Xavier’s busy running his own business and mentoring kids. Neither of us has the time for involvement right now.” She left out the fact that she felt a little strange about Xavier’s mentoring of wayward youngsters. They were kids on the wrong path, just like the young men who’d murdered her father.

  On a humid summer day in 2005, some young men decided to rob the hardware sto
re Richard Grant had owned. He’d been killed during the robbery, and neither Imani nor her mother had been the same since. With no inclination to run it on her own, Imani’s mother, Alma, had sold the store a couple of months later. The store had been renamed and remodeled after the sale—but Imani still drove by there on occasion because it somehow made her feel close to her dad.

  “Whatever, girl. You make time for what you really want.” Maya stepped back from the last print she’d hung, narrowing her eyes. “Does this look straight to you?”

  Imani looked at the photo. “I think so.” She was relieved Maya seemed to be moving on from grilling her about Xavier. While she’d enjoyed their lovemaking when they were young, she just wasn’t in a place where she could trust him.

  Not now. Not yet.

  Maya set the hammer down and came over to where Imani sat, still holding the package. “You gonna just sit there holding it, or are you gonna open it?”

  Imani tugged the box’s flaps. With the flaps finally free, Imani opened it. She pushed aside a layer of packing peanuts to get to the contents and lifted out an object.

  It was a beautiful, intricately engraved eight-by-ten silver frame. Inside was an old photograph of her with Xavier, from back when they were in high school. He was a tall, grinning teen in a tracksuit, and she was the shorter, smiling girlfriend clinging to his arm.

  Etched into the bottom of the silver frame were the words “Soul Mates.”

  She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears. She couldn’t believe he’d kept the photo all these years. Her best guess was that she’d left her copy in a shoe box in her mother’s house. Looking at his teenaged face, she could see something in his eyes that she’d missed back then: pure adoration. Maybe she’d been too busy with angst and college applications, but this was the first time she’d really noticed how he looked at her.

  Maya’s squeal of delight conveyed her feelings on the gift. “Oh, Imani. That’s soooo sweet!” She clapped her hands together gleefully. “You’ve gotta take him back now.”