CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TWO OTHER patrons sat alone nursing drinks when they entered the cozy restaurant.
“You kids crazy enough to be out in that rain?”
Keir found a stout and tall black woman standing behind the bar watching them shake their clothes. “It’s raining?”
The woman’s belly-slap and smoke-roughened laugh made him smile. He inhaled deep to drain the last of his frustration. He winked at Myah before lifting a finger to trace raindrops on her forehead and down her face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s dangerous, Myah, and it’s no hassle for me to look at.”
“I know.” Her eyes shifted around the room. “Sometimes I have to sacrifice to make it, and just hope for the best.”
He hated her logic but nodded and started toward the bar. “What do you want? Tea? Hot chocolate?”
“I’m buying.”
“You don’t have to tell the whole world I’m a kept man, sweetheart.”
Hearing an embarrassed grunt, he turned to see her stomp to a coat-tree by the bar to hang up her drenched jacket.
“Hot chocolate it is,” he announced to no objections. He glanced over his shoulder again, then turned to the hefty old woman. “I’ll have a French Vanilla instead.”
“This look like a coffee bar to you?” the rusty voice asked.
Minutes later, Myah thanked him for the drink when he joined her in a deep green padded booth. The owner’s laugh from their short conversation reached the table.
Myah cupped her mug with both hands and leaned her elbows on the table. “I can’t let you loose around the ladies, can I?”
“You’d know firsthand.”
Keir grinned when she brought the mug to her face, knowing she tried to hide her flattered smile. She was so fun to be around. He’d never have known about her if the thing outside hadn’t broken down. He scratched his forehead. Man, he hoped it wasn’t prone to engine floods. They needed to get it out of the rain.
“You know you drive a crap car.”
“Hey.”
“Let the truth set you free.”
“Just promise me you won’t take it out back and shoot it. I’ve come to love it.”
“I’ve got the keys to what you love.” He took a sip while time slowed down and his heart sped up at the poor choice of words. “I’ll take a look at it tonight, see what’s fried.”
“How’m I supposed to get to church tomorrow?”
“I’ll take you.”
“You’re confiscating my car?”
As if he’d let her drive that thing while it was raining. He gave her an uh, yeah eyebrow.
She leaned her head. “And you’re coming to my church.”
His pulse quickened. “Making it official you’re my girlfriend, meeting relatives, and announcing the relationship to church family in one weekend a little too much for you?” His lips teased with the idea of a smile. He could tell she liked it.
“Does this mean I have to visit Mount Ridge Fellowship?”
“Every day.”
She smirked back. “Well, it’ll be nice to see you in your worship environment.”
Right back at you. “You won’t miss much. I sing, I clap, I snore. In that order.” He dodged a wrist slap and laughed before eyeing the two pool tables he’d noticed from the bar. “Want a game while we wait?”
It took fifteen minutes to finish their hot chocolates and fifteen more for the skies to dim and the rain to ease up. During that time, Myah led him to a table and grabbed a cue. She twirled another in her hand as she came over to offer it to him.
He shook his head. “A man chooses his own weapon.” Rebellious Myah didn’t budge when he stretched past her to pluck one from the wall.
Clothes still damp, he thought the proximity of their bodies set off a little steam.
She smiled. “How good are you, ’cause I’m only so-so.”
He’d heard every word, but—sue him—he sidled up to lean his ear beside her lips, affording a smooth view of the side of her chocolate cream neck. “What was that?”
“How good are you?”
He shifted ever so slightly to see her eyes. Why she liked the watered down lilt he’d tried so hard to get rid of to stop the kids’ teasings, he’d never know. But if the lady wanted it... “Never let it be said I couldn’t teach you a thing or two, Miss Myah.”
A beat too late for casualty, she came back with, “Get outta here.”
Her warm hand on his chest felt good. He removed it while leaning in again, lips brushing her earlobe to complain without his accent, “That’s no way to be the teacher’s pet.”
Keir relished the breathy and beautiful smile on her face. Sometimes he’d say anything to see that look. He’d never considered himself one to flirt—Haylan and Skye would wonder if he’d been body snatched—but Myah pulled the A-game out of him. Just knowing she was in his corner gave him motivation to be stronger, do better. Except maybe for acting like a wuss while driving her car.
After she’d left the kitchen today, he’d told Haylan he preferred to drive her to her sisters. He craved the extra alone-time despite the onset of panic.
The peculiar smile on his brother’s face had faded as his eyebrows drew together. “Are you…are you sleeping with her?”
The strange question wacked the funny right out of him. What did Haylan think of Myah? “Wh—? No! Are you crazy? What do you think she is!”
By the time he’d finished asking, Haylan had thrown up his hands in apology. “Sorry. But the way you look at her. Have you seen yourself? You’re all tied up in each other, it’s deep. Just be careful.”
Keir nodded, took the caution, and a head slap. “I hear ya. We’re okay. We get affectionate, but I know when to back off.”
Haylan held the back of his head and gave him a couple hard pats. “She’s nice. Don’t mess her up.”
“I won’t mess her up,” he promised more to himself.
Maybe not emotionally, but that challenge in her stare as she circled the table, put him on alert. They’d have a pretty fun mind dual. He would have to teach her a thing or two about trying to outmaneuver him.
She played all right, no overt skills he could help her brush up on, but he tried anyway. And Myah, ever the sport, let him close enough to give pointers, or hipped him away when he made her laugh too much. Every once in a while she tried to return the favor.
He leaned against the far wall to psych her out from the other side, but she stayed immune, eyeing the targets with great concentration.
“Ey, mama. Your body working fine.”
With few other people who’d filtered into the establishment, the catcall from the dining area pierced the air and quieted most of the muffled conversations. Myah’s eyes widened from across the pool table. Keir peered around her to see a table of four guys stare her backside up and down.
“Settle down, buddy.”
“Mi naw talk to you.”
She turned from Keir to glance at them, then shuffled to his side, smoothing her hand down her thigh.
“Mmm. Sway it, mama. You wan mek me show you how? Soon come.”
“Ignore ‘em,” Keir mumbled.
She nodded but stayed at his side, a self-conscious gloom crept over her face to keep her gaze on the floor.
Keir cut his eyes to the mouthpiece, whose nostrils flared as he documented every inch and curve of her body not obstructed by the game table. Several beer bottles littered the surface in front of the group. They may not be fully drunk, but chances were they’d grow more belligerent as the night wore on.
“Do you want to go?”
Again she nodded. They didn’t waste any time putting their sticks away.
Unfortunately, that seemed to draw more attention. Smart Mouth sucked his teeth and held up his arms as they returned to their booth. “What? Mama, you gwan leave wi’dis bwahy?”
Anxious for nothing. Not sparing them a glance, the moment Myah’s eyes locked with his, Keir read the hurt and discomfort. “Go get your coat.”
Myah slipped away to get her jacket. He donned his own then pulled out his wallet and left a tip.
Chairs scraped sharp on the wooden floor. Keir’s heart jammed in his chest before he even saw the trouble. He turned swiftly. The Mouth and one of his buddies headed greedily toward Myah. Keir shoved by an empty table to cut them off. Distant rumbles alerted him that the other two were on their way to either block him or kill him.
From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Myah turning with surprise to find out what the commotion was all about. He took the force of the first two. Behind him came her keen cry as he and the Mouth crashed into each other. They scuffled for a dominant foothold, bumped chests and fists, grappled with each other’s collar.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” The robust old woman’s voice shot through the air.
The Mouth snarled like a bull. Keir uncurled his fists from the plaid shirt while he shoved the thug away with a rigid thrust. What’d this guy think he was doing? Keir could have spit fire, he was so mad. He steadied on the pads of his feet. His fingers curled in loose balls at his sides in case either of them made another move.
He should be scared stiff. One idiot, he could take. Maybe two he’d do a good job with. But four opponents, they’d send him to the hospital before he got a chance to land a solid punch on each of them. Adrenaline—and being totally ticked off at their disrespect to try to touch Myah—overshadowed self-concern; had him practically growl at the guy at the back, the one he believed to be the group’s heavyweight.
That was the idiot to take down first. He flexed his right fist and eyed his opponent. He’d quake in his boots later, but if they so much as stood in his way he’d smash… Out.
Sometimes, the Holy Spirit as a conscience meter could wreck a man’s ego. The internal light bulb shone on the fact that he needed to get Myah out of there now. Sure, he’d kick up a brawl if he needed to, but he didn’t need to.
Staring each of them down, he snaked his hand out behind him. Warm, damp skin slid into his. Their fingers threaded to secure their connection. His and Myah’s. ’Cause he knew if anyone messed with her, they really messed with him.
Tugging, he rubbed his thumb in her palm in a quiet conversation as he guided her forward and gave a glare to each in the small posse. A part of him wished they’d try something just so he could stick his foot in their mouths and give them a few teeth to swallow. He’d get her home and to safety, try to forget about it.
Neither spoke as they pushed through the door to the cold evening’s gusts of receding rain, and he didn’t look behind to see if they’d been followed. If a cockfight was brewing, this wasn’t the time. He opened the car door and practically stuffed Myah inside.
Half way home, her silence finally clicked in. Keir eased off of the street and parked on the far side of a closed grocery store that backed into a weeded field. He let the engine run, but took her hand only to feel sharp tremors.
“Myah, I’m sorry.”
She exhaled a breath that shook as bad as her hand. Keir slid the driver’s seat back and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close where she made soft whimpers on his chest.
“Shh, shh, shh. Nothing happened. You’re okay.”
“They meant to hurt you, Keir. It was so fast. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”
She was concerned about him? He smiled against her forehead as he tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t ever apologize for looking amazing or I’ll have to buy a paper bag for you to wear over your head. Then no one will see how beautiful you are.”
She slapped his chest and he coughed pathetically in injury. His arm trembled. He didn’t like that. The rush of a fight shouldn’t wear off already, not when he had to convince her to be calm.
“I’ve been in fights before, My. I’m not afraid to get hurt.”
She pushed up to look at him. He frowned, hurt to see wet streaks on her cheeks. Rivulets of water reflected from the windshield highlighted her hurt, but no words came as they stared at each other. Then Myah stretched up and kissed him. He dipped and kissed her back. The timid lips didn’t suit the Myah he knew. She could be bashful at times when they kissed, but never shaky. It made him all the more angry that those idiots put a fright in her.
He maneuvered her to her side so she wouldn’t have to strain over the console, but he followed, lost in the fact that regardless of how many times he’d taken a punch, this woman wouldn’t stand it if he’d been hurt.
She cared for him, unlike one former girlfriend who’d expected him to get in a scrape to protect her so-called honor. Bad Girlfriend expected it every time. Now he understood relevance of a fight was just an attitude. He didn’t have to bust a lip to show his manhood and devotion. For Myah, it had been enough that he’d been willing.
He thought he fell in love with her right there and then. She never said the words that his actions were enough, but he heard her all the same in her touch and her kiss. Keir pressed with abandon, giving back until he believed he’d thoroughly molded her into the car’s upholstery. When he let up for air, he watched her glossy eyes search his.
Her breath whispered to him, “Please, never get hurt because of me.”
“You know you’re worth it, right?” He twisted awkwardly in the confined space to reach the vertical adjuster, and reclined her seat flat to stare down at her. “You know you’re worth being holed up in a hospital bed. As long as it meant whoever touched you knew never to do it again.”
She stared at him wide-eyed, reached for his face. He loved the sprinkle of her fingertips on his skin. She had a touch that let him know she yearned to care for every part of him; his mind, his body, and his soul.
His knee knocked the gear shift as he adjusted more comfortably over her. He didn’t know what he was doing, only that he needed to show that he cared for her in every way, too. Whatever it took, he would always make sure he brought Dylan back home his mother.
As his legs entwined with hers and he peered down through the fog in his brain, Myah’s face relayed such trust and surrender. They’d agreed to certain limitations on touching. The woman made him sign a handwritten contract in case either of them forgot, and yet in this position she demonstrated complete faith that he wouldn’t push past them.
Uhhh, man. Easier said than done. The tranquil face. Her spilled hair. It invited him to do more than he wanted to restrain. For a moment, he saw the eyes of someone he should be with for a long time.
Freaky, they’d only known each other a short while. But taking things to the next level would be an exquisite experience they could cherish.
Before it got that far he’d stop. Keir wouldn’t do that to her. He laid his lips on hers in a chaste connection. He checked her eyes, mutely lit through the mist and the lamppost, and found her lips again, purposefully seeking something more.
She angled her head and kissed him, causing urges he long ago laid dormant to rouse. He pulled away, feeling her hot breaths cool his lips before he kissed along her jaw to her ear.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, which of course is the first thing one would say to cause someone to stay apprehensive. He did.
He leaned up and shrugged out of his coat.
Myah held his gaze, then followed the movement of his left hand as he unhooked the top button of her coat. He wanted to be near her without all the bulky restraints of what this weather required. But he’d stop, he reminded himself. If things got out of hand, he’d put a stop to…
He popped the last button and pushed aside the opening where the warmth of her body spilled out. Minutes ago, he hadn’t thought twice about being mangled to keep her safe, now look at him, cherishing the spoils of a battle he hadn’t even fought.
Or maybe still fighting. But he was also convinced she was in the safest place possible.
He grazed his fingers under the angle of her jaw, enjoying the temperature of his cool knuckles on her skin as he moved lower, but her right hand put an end to his progress while her eyes frowned in question. He flicked her off his wrist and took control of her hand.
Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he gently raised her arm above her head. His lips tasted hers to soothe and assure. With her jacket open, out wafted the scent of French vanilla. That alone would have driven him to do crazy things.
Keir released her hand to continue exploration, to glide his fingers down her cheek to the dip of her neck. Burying his arm inside the comfort of her jacket, he circled her waist and held her to him.
As he kissed her soft and slow, he felt every muscle in Myah relax. His followed suit when her fingers fanned the back of his shoulders to keep him close. A minute passed in their peaceful submission. It was enough. In fact, she was enough to pacify his fears of this evening as much as he’d hoped to erase hers.
Resting his face at the side of her throat, he drank in her scent and presence. She was here. Safe. He didn’t want to collapse all his weight, so shifted to the side and allowed only half his body on top of her. He clung tight, monitoring the elevated heartbeat through the pulse in her neck, hearing her breathing say that even relaxed she was in an excited state.
“You excite me, too,” he told her.
After a second, Myah turned half on her side and held him. Held him. “Nothing you do for me is taken for granted.” She stroked his face, plucked a finger on his lips, and slid down his neck, shoulders, and chest.
He flinched at the deliberate force pressed on the awkward growths under his collarbone; though at the same time, he craved the touch against his bare skin. The weight of her action needled him to push past his insecurities, forget what caused it and just live. He maintained eye contact and took it. Only for her. He may not be ready to let anyone in on his deep guilt, but ended up feeling like the one who needed consoling. She touched him like she wanted to make sure he could feel her.
I feel you, all right. Keir closed his eyes. She was everything. Her palm shifted to glide down the back of his head where she held tight. He breathed deep as she kissed his forehead and closed eyelids. His chest hollowly echoed the thumps of his haphazard heart when she ardently sought his mouth. He wanted to tell her to stop. He’d taken them to an edge he didn’t want to back away from, but he let her pour out whatever he could take. For a minute.
Keir crushed her when he rolled on top. “Stop.”
He opened his eyes. Myah’s were shut.
He should have moved farther back because, sightless, she lurched up and latched on to him, emotionally placing them further than where they’d left off. Weaker, Keir broke the kiss and pulled away.
A smile cut his face at the serenity of her features and closed eyes. He agreed, they were comfortable with each other, dare he say, admired the socks off one another, and showing love for someone in a physical sense would foster more intimacy, more…this.
He wanted to keep going, flow in the moment, but he wouldn’t betray the promise to each other. To a Christian pledge. They’d worked hard. Respect for their vows meant something, and she deserved more this time round.
“Myah. Plum, look at me.”
Hooded eyes peered back in desire and wonder.
Keir’s heart thudded. He peeled off to awkwardly stumble to his own seat. Staring out the windshield a few seconds, then at her, he marveled how he’d found the willpower. “We have to quit. You’re killing me here.”
Correcting her clothes, Myah finger-combed her hair and patted her face. She righted her seatback and reclaimed her breath through soft lips. “Never catch a girl during PMS.”
“PMS?” he sputtered.
“Pre, present, and post. We’re a dangerous bunch. Did you call me plum?”
He threw her a sideways smile.
“Drive and get me home, car man.”
He chuckled and moved the car. The comfortable silence hovered for the remainder of the trip. He held her hand when he wasn’t changing gears, but it seemed imperative and mutual they didn’t touch when they exited. He wouldn’t step anywhere near her door tonight, and waited by the car.
They’d had a pivotal moment tonight. He’d never been held by a woman before, not a girlfriend establishing she’d be there to catch him if he landed in trouble. If he needed a place to feel safe.
I’ve fallen in love. Keir stared at her silhouette behind the front door glass. He scrunched his face, then laughed. He was in trouble.