"Micki!" Vincent shouted, stepping through the front door. His two dogs matched his every step. He had two large shopping bags in his grip. "Micki!" he called out again when he didn't receive a response the first time.
"I'm out at the pool, baby," Micki shouted back.
Vincent was pulling out a Gucci shoe box when Micki entered the living room wearing a green two piece string bikini. Her hair was bone straight and wet.
"How did your speaking thing go?" She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"It was perfect." He turned around to face her. "Here." He handed her one of the size six Gucci Stilettos. She immediately released him, taking the stiletto from his grip.
"Ooooo, baby. Thank you, thank you, thank you. These are sooo hot!" She stood up on her toes to kiss him on his lips. "I got to call Celisha. These are hot."
"Call Celisha for what?" He pulled out the American Gangster DVD he had purchased when he and Celisha stopped off at the mall after the speaking engagement.
"Because I know she picked these shoes out. I'll wear these for my photo session in New York." She reached for the other pair.
"How do you know I didn't pick them out? You act like my taste in fashion is a zero or something."
"Vincent, baby, I know your taste is bad," she giggled. "What about those tiger striped stilettos that you did pick out; the ones you paid too much for? The ones that I keep in a locked box? And those zebra ones." She turned her nose up. "What is it with you and animal prints?" she laughed.
"You wore them a few days ago," he reminded her with a wink.
"Yes, I did," she said in a soft, seductive voice. "And that was all I had on too. Speak on that." She slid her pedicured feet into the new stilettos. "Let's break these in." Micki returned the wink as she led him to the bedroom.
A couple hours later, Micki woke up in the dark bedroom, still wearing her new stilettos. She forced her eyes to look at the time on the digital clock while Vincent was asleep, spooned behind her.
"Baby," she whispered, "it's going on nine o'clock." She rubbed his arm, repeating herself. He murmured something into her scented hair. "Baby," she whined.
"Look at what time it is."
"So." His voice was hoarse.
"So? It's late. I haven't even. . ." she yawned, "started washing clothes yet. And I'm hungry too." She turned and twisted in his embrace until she was facing him. "Wake up, sleepy head." Unable to resist his soft lips, she began to kiss him. He returned her kiss. Micki loved her man inside and out, but that didn't stop the world from revolving. She had to get up and get a move on.
They managed to leave the bed before ten o'clock. Vincent took the chore of doing the laundry while Micki cooked some steaks. By five minutes pass midnight, they were fed and relaxing in the Jacuzzi. Micki sat behind him on the padded edge, giving her man a relaxing massage.
"How is the new book you're writing coming along?" she asked, raking her nails lightly up his muscular chest. "I Can't Stop Loving You" by Kem was playing softly in the background.
"It's a short story," he corrected her with his eyes shut. "I'm almost done with it," he added. "I got about thirty more pages to write," he moaned when she started kneading his shoulders. "No explicit sex scenes, no bad words. It's a challenge."
"I read the guidelines in that email you printed out. So, it's sort of a religious theme?"
He nodded.
"What if your story is good?" Vincent looked at her like she was crazy. "I mean. . .what if your readers want you to start writing more of that kind of stuff?"
Vincent thought for a minute. "Shouldn't I be versatile?"
"Yes, I suppose, but didn't you once tell me that you would only write about things you believed in? For example, I know you will never write a gang related novel because you don't understand their mind-set. You haven't lived that life. So, how can you write about something religious based if you. . .you know. . .aren't really into religion?"
"Have you read what I've written so far, by any chance?"
Micki was known, whenever she had a minute, to open Vincent's latest work on his computer and read it.
"No. For some reason I want to wait until you're completely done with this one," she replied.
"So, how do you know I'm not writing about something I believe in?"
"Well, I've never seen or heard you say a prayer or go to church. So what, if any, form of religion do you believe in, baby?" After a brief moment of silence, he tilted his head back into Micki's lap without giving her a reply. "I asked you a question, Vincent." She looked directly into his brown eyes.
"It doesn't bother you that I don't pray or go to church?"
She looked away. Releasing a deep sigh, she gave a, "no." It wasn't like she went to church. She prayed sometimes, but it wasn't a daily habit like real Christians do. Religion wasn't something she was big on. Micki had always been taught not to get into religious or political discussions.
"You know what?" she said as if she suddenly remembered something. "We were suppose to finish our conversation from this morning." She stood up.
"We both forgot, so chill. I made up my mind anyway."
"Which is it?"
"Go ahead and tell the world about us."
She squealed, bouncing up and down. "Thank you, Vincent! I love you so much, and now the whole world will know too."
"I love you too, Micki." In the back of his mind, he was disappointed behind Micki not caring about his lack of religion. He could say the same things about her that she said about him. Vincent believed in God, but he didn't know God. He believed in a heaven as well as a hell, but that was about the extent of it.
As Micki basked in excitement, Vincent looked at the woman he loved. He'd go to the ends of the earth for her. He'd die for her and protect her against anything that might try to come up against her, but that was only physically. What about her soul? How could he even think about protecting her soul when the fate of his own soul was in question?