Chapter Four

 

Cain

 

 

I see her walking toward my table. In my mind, I can already picture her in a white dress doing the same. My heart skips a beat as she approaches. How is it possible for another person to have me feeling weakened and breathless? I kept it together for as best as I could when I saw her at the store this morning, but being with her and feeling her cry in my arms confirmed everything I know about her to be true. She loves me. She’s my gift. She’s the woman my mother warned me about. The one who would knock me off of my feet and make me forget any other woman existed. I never, ever – not in a million years thought it would happen to me. I was wrong.

When I called to tell Ahmalee where to meet me for dinner, she tried to talk me out of coming to Fleming’s. Said it was a little on the pricey side and we didn’t need to eat at a fine dining restaurant. It’s her way of trying to save me some money when the reality is, I could buy this place if I wanted to. She doesn’t know that. She thinks I’m still two months in on some entry-level position when the truth is, I’m CEO of a business I started. And I have millions. Now, I have to go back to playing the role of a man who doesn’t have the same profile. That’ll be difficult to do, but I have to keep in mind who Ahmalee thinks I am. She doesn’t know me as a millionaire. She knows and loves me as the homeless, modest guy who turned his life around. I’m not homeless and I’ve been called many things but modest isn’t one of them. Proud, arrogant or conceited, maybe, but definitely not modest.

I haven’t taken my eyes off of her. I told her to wear a dress. She wore a dress. I’ve never seen her in a dress before today. To my delight, she wears a rust-colored dress, the same color of fall leaves and a pair of brown sandals. It’s autumn, but the temperature is still warm enough for sandals and a thin dress. It’s a free-flowing one – not the kind that looks painted on. It’s decent. Something a true lady would wear. It’s beautiful on her. She’s beautiful in it.

She has small silver hoops in her ear. Her locs are half up with the back hanging. I noticed immediately when I saw her earlier that she dyed them to a lighter shade of brown. matches brilliantly with her skin. The gloss on her lips reminds me of what I desperately want to do to them. I wanted to take them this morning, but with Ahmalee, I’m a master at practicing restraint – and trust me when I say it has never been easy with her. Those lips of hers make my lips quiver. We kissed twice before I left – her ripe plums tasted so good against my lips. Left me wanting more.

My, my, my…

I stand as she approaches. She smiles. Her presence lights up the room the same way it lit a flame in my heart. Her aura is as addictive as her intoxicating scent. Everything about her draws me in. She does it with no effort. I wonder if she knows the effect she has on me or is this just natural for her.

“Hey,” she says, throwing her arms around me again. She puts off airy, carefree vibes and smells like a taste of heaven.

I squeeze her, feeling life rush through my veins. I’ll take advantage of every opportunity to hold her in my arms. The time apart makes me appreciate that every minute with her is precious.

When we part, I pull out her chair, help her get comfortable in her seat and then I take a step back to my chair, sit, lean back and stare. I can’t believe she’s here. That I’m here. I’ve spent so many nights wanting her. Many nights tossing and turning. Many days pushing through frustration at the office knowing her absence in my life was the cause of my irritation. Now, I have her with me.

All is well.

I can breathe.

Life starts to make sense again.

I feel again.

She smiles. I can tell she’s nervous. We’ve been apart for two months. I didn’t expect her to be one-hundred percent comfortable. I’m not either, but I’m purpose-driven. And I’m here for one reason only.

“How are you this evening?” she asks.

I don’t respond. I hear her talking to me, but my mind is jumbled with thoughts. Keeps flashing back to when we met. How she took care of me. How she walked around in the house in those mid-drift tops, breasts bouncing, showing off those waist beads that laid flat against her tight, little stomach. I think about how she cried when I left and how she cried this morning when she saw me. I’m entranced in visions as I stare at her. It’s impolite to stare. I know. I don’t care. I’ll stare at what’s mine. At what piques my desire and interest.

She shies away from my gaze. She should be nervous. I want this woman so bad I can taste her in my mouth. I can see her in the middle of my bed. I can see us making love, making babies and having a family. My entire future rests in the depths of this woman.

This baffles and excites me at the same time because I’ve never had this feeling about a woman. I thought love was an anomaly for me. I’d always been immune to it, but now, like an addict, I need her for my next high.

Her smile fades. She chews on her lips, searching for more to say to me. “Um…how was your meeting?”

“Good,” I respond – leave it off like that. I’m still in a state of admiration over her and this phenomenon that’s occurring.

“Good? That’s it?” she asks. Smiles nervously – still beautiful nonetheless. She raises her brows and swallows hard. “It’s crazy that you’re here.”

“Why is that crazy, Ahmalee?” I ask.

“Honestly, when you left, I didn’t think I would ever see you again, Cain. I was hoping I was wrong but—I—I didn’t think this day would ever come.”

I feel my heart racing with every word she utters because I know she’s it for me. This woman is my wife. My forever. My everything. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“You look nice,” she tells me. “I meant to tell you that earlier. Did I tell you earlier? I don’t remember. I was so busy crying…”

She looks like a doll with those big, dark brown eyes. They almost look too big for her face – same with her lips – and that’s what gives her a uniqueness I can’t get enough of. That combined with her sweet personality and the heart of gold she possesses is a mixture that’s caused an explosion inside of me.

Girl got me at a loss for words. I don’t even know what to say to her right now, so I’m sitting here looking at her. She’s taken my voice along with my heart.

Dang.

“Your hair—you got your dreads twisted. They look nice and seeing you in a suit—wow! You look absolutely amazing! It tells me you’re doing well.”

“I am. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I say, “I’ve never seen you in a dress. I like it. You’re beautiful.”

Don’t do it.

Don’t do it.

I have to restrain myself from jumping across this table and making her my appetizer. I lean back in my chair while my eyes feast on the beautiful face that saved me.

My hands twitch. I’m aching to touch her. I have to pull myself together so I can have a conversation with her.

She glances up but looks away again. It’s been a challenge for her to keep her eyes on me, probably because I’m not talking much. She finally asks, “Is something wrong?”

“No. Why would something be wrong, Ahmalee?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re different. Quiet. Your mannerisms are different.”

I’m not surprised she’s noticed that. I think I would’ve been more shocked if she hadn’t noticed that the me who left here two months ago isn’t the same person sitting across from her now.

I say, “It’s been two months since we last saw each other.”

“Yeah. I guess that would explain it.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I mumble. I sit up straighter in my seat and ask, “Which do you prefer? The me now or me then?”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Do you like me more now or—?”

“I really don’t have a preference. I mean—” she shrugs. “I just like you.” She smiles and averts her gaze away from me. “I’ve always liked you. Doesn’t matter what you have on, or where you work or any other factors for that matter.”

I can smell the scent of her candles in her clothes and the lavender incense she burns sometimes on the weekends. I trace her lips with my eyes, take in the full scope of her beautiful face.

She twiddles her thumbs, looks at me and says, “Cain?”

I don’t respond. This is crazy. I just stare. I’m in a state of awe. I cannot believe a woman like her exists.

A waitress comes over and says, “Welcome to Fleming’s. Can I get y’all started on some appetizers?”

I never take my eyes off of Ahmalee when I respond, “Give us a few minutes.”

“Sure. I’ll be back.”

When the waitress walks away, Ahmalee narrows her eyes and asks, “Hey, are you sure everything’s okay?”

It’s the second time she’s tried to figure me out since being here. She knows something is off. Can’t quite put her finger on it, but she can feel it. She likes to read energy and honestly, she’s good at it.

“Ahmalee.”

“Yes?” she asks, smiling, but I can tell she’s nervous. It’s actually a turn on.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” I confess.

“What?”

“When I left here two months ago—I didn’t want to leave. You.”

“But you got the job.”

“I know, but I struggled with leaving,” I tell her.

“Why?”

I take a second to get my thoughts together. Instead of answering her directly, I switch up the topic a little. I say, “The day I left, you gave me a box.”

“I did.”

“You told me not to open it until I got on the train. Candles, lotion, oil, Uno cards, a check for a thousand dollars and a letter.”

She nods, remembering. She doesn’t smile this time. I know she’s thinking about those emotions she felt when I left – when she handed me the box.

I tell her, “I’ve never had anyone do anything remotely close to what you did for me. Everything you did for me when I was living in that camper—you didn’t have to do any of it. You did it out of the goodness of your heart because you’re that good of a person.”

“I try to be.”

“No, you don’t try. You do. It’s who you are. It’s in your DNA.” I gaze at her more then say, “I have a confession to make.”

“What’s that?”

“I didn’t come back here for business reasons, Ahmalee.”

She frowns. “No?”

I slowly shake my head.

“Then why’d you come back?” she asks in a way that leads me to believe she already knows the answer.

“I came back here…for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

“Cain—”

“I came back because I miss being in your presence. I miss talking to you. I miss having dinner with you. Joking with you. Dancing with you. Playing cards with you. I miss your smell. I miss being close to you. I’ve missed you so much, it’s negatively affected my mood. Missed you so much, I found myself miserable without you. That’s why I came back. I came back for you.”

Her eyes tear up. I didn’t mean to bring her to tears and I hope my straightforwardness doesn’t frighten her. She’s an emotional person – very in tune with her feelings like the way she was when I left. It still damages my spirit when I remember how she dropped to the floor and cried. I don’t think I will ever forget that.

“Are you okay, because I’m not done?”

She sniffles. “I’m—I’m okay.”

I can clearly see she’s not. I say, “Every time it stormed, I wanted to be here to hold you. I was mad at myself that I wasn’t here for you. You don’t know how much I wanted to be here for you.”

She dabs her eyes. “If you felt that way about me, why’d you leave, Cain?”

“Because I wasn’t what you needed. I wasn’t good enough. I—”

“That’s not the way I felt about you at all.”

“How could it not be?” I ask, testing her. “I was a bum when you met me.”

Her lips quiver. “Stop. Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. I had nothing. My clothes were filthy. I was a nobody.”

Tears crawl down her face. She frowns, can barely look at me when she says, “I can’t—excuse me.” She pushes away from the table and gets up.

I take the napkin from my lap, place it on the table and follow her outside. She’s heading for her car.

I call her name, trying to catch up to her. She reaches the car, but turns to look at me and says, “What is this, Cain? Why would you say that to me?”

“That’s how I feel.”

“I’ve never treated you any different from the way I would treat anyone else. You were never a bum to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, touching her face. Her tears wet my hands.

“Please never say that to me again,” she says, gazing into my eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Her body trembles and she’s still crying when she says, “And, for the record, I never wanted you to leave, either. I wanted you to stay. Forever.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I love you, Ahmalee. That’s why I’m here. I love you. I’m in love with you and I—I don’t think there’s any way possible I can live without you.”

She smiles through her tears and says, “I love you, too, Cain, and I don’t think there’s any way possible I can live without you.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” I lean forward to connect my lips to hers. The joining is like a rush of sugar to the brain – a surge. A rush. Her lips are more than what I dreamed they’d be for this third tasting. I already knew I was addicted. Now, I think she knows it. If her tongue in my mouth wasn’t enough of an indicator, I’m sure the way I have her secured against my body will tell the story.

She willingly dissolves into me. She doesn’t inch away like the other times we kissed. She’s all in. I’m all in – all up in her mouth with my tongue.

She moans.

For a second, I forget where we are until I hear some people around us talking. I end the kiss and look at Ahmalee. She’s staring back at me, then that beautiful smile emerges.

“You love me,” she says. It’s a statement – not a question.

“I do.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

She throws her arms around me and relieves herself of sighs.

“Do you want to go back inside?” I ask.

“No.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to go home—with you, of course.”

“I can pick up some food and meet you there.”

“I would like that very much, Cain.”

“Okay. It’s a date. I’ll see you in a bit.” I take a last kiss – a quick one – then open the door for her.

I rush to my car thinking the faster I can get this food, the quicker I can get home to her – the woman I love.