AFRICAN AMERICAN ROMANCE: A Thug to Remember (Hood Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (African American Urban Contemporary Short Stories) (54 page)

Chapter 2

"I cannot believe you talked me into this, Madison."

Amy laughed as she checked her dating profile online and deleted all the emails from the men who just seemed like they were after sex.

Madison was Amy's older sister. Married older sister, at that, who thought Amy was being too reclusive and needed to get a life. Amy was a preschool teacher and she wasn't rich, but she was happy and content. She didn't really go out of her way to date anyone, but they lived in a small town and there weren't a lot of men to choose from.

"Wait, stop, go back. Look at that one. He's hot," Maddy told her sister, and pointed to a man with a buzz cut, his arms crossed in a t-shirt, jeans tight in all the right places.

"He looks nice, I guess,” Amy observed. “He doesn't seem too happy about his picture being taken."

She clicked to read his profile. Ex-military, owner of his family's business, looking for a wife. Not into wasting time.

"He seems like he wants to rush things a little bit," Amy said, unsure if that was what she was looking for. He didn't sound like he really wanted a wife, at least not as a companion and friend, but he made it clear he wasn't looking for a short time fling. He was blunt and to the point. She could appreciate that.

"Read his email before you make any judgments," Maddy told her sister, and pointed at the little icon on the screen to go back to the inbox.

Amy shrugged, and opened his email. He was blunt and honest about looking for a wife because of his parents’ dying wish and explained the situation. That he could offer financial stability, children, and a relationship that possibly could develop into more over time, but he wasn't unrealistic about the nature of what he was looking for. Also, she read, that he would expect monogamy and would give the same.

"Well, he's...honest," Amy muttered and then stared at his picture. Something about him made her almost want to respond. His email bordered on ridiculous. What kind of man just laid out everything like that so bluntly?

"Amy, he sounds perfect for you. You keep saying how you don't believe in love at first sight. You want kids. I know you do. You're going to be thirty next year and you may not get a better offer than something like this. I think you should do it." Maddy grinned at her.

Madison was five years older and already had four children, and another on the way. She'd gotten married in college to her high school sweetheart. Her husband owned a construction company, and Madison worked as his personal assistant so she could bring her kids to work before they were in school. It worked for them, and they'd been madly in love for almost twenty years.

Amy just wasn't sure she believed in any of that. It seemed so farfetched that a lasting relationship could be built on a business agreement, or in Maddy’s case, the infatuation you feel as a teenager.

Yet, people did it every day, including her sister. She was just more jaded than that. The man she'd loved and met in college had turned out to be gay, and she'd caught him in bed with another man.

She was more hurt that he couldn't trust her enough to tell her the truth, than she was about the violation of their bedroom. His being gay hadn't bothered her. Well.  It bothered her that he was the wrong sex for her to be gay with. More than that, it was the lack of honesty that had destroyed her emotionally, and she'd shied away from men after that. She figured her judgment just wasn't sound.

"You need to get over Blake,” Maddy told her gently. “It's time Amy, it's been almost ten years. You need to move on. Give this guy a shot. The worst that can happen is you change your mind and come back home and pick up where you left off."

"I'll consider it." Amy told her, although she'd already decided that Maddy was right, and she'd give Sloan a shot.

She waited till Maddy went home for the night, and wrote him a response.

I read your email. I think honesty can be a good start to a relationship. While monogamy is important, honesty is more important to me than anything else. I understand why you are in a hurry to get a wife and I'm willing to come out there for a week and see if the two of us get along. If we do, I'm open to the arrangement you are suggesting.

Amy

Hitting the send button, Amy took a deep breath and shut her laptop and went to bed for the night. She tossed and turned for hours, resisting the urge to go hit the refresh button to see if he'd replied yet.

Maddy was right, she needed to move on. At least this man was honest and upfront about everything. That sort of man was rare. If they could go into a relationship knowing where they both stood and had chemistry then maybe, just maybe, it would work.

She'd heard of worse ways to start a relationship.

Chapter 3

Sloan was waiting anxiously at the airport where Amy would be arriving shortly. It was a four hour flight for her because she was coming up from a tiny town in Montana, to Eastern Washington where he lived. Montana wasn't that far away in the big picture, but the drive would have taken a couple of days, especially with snow. It was safer to fly.

He'd seen a picture of her, and he had to admit the picture did a lot for him. She had short-cropped black hair that was really curly, pale white skin and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. She looked like a pixie.

When she walked out to the luggage area where he was waiting for her, he was surprised that she had the short height to go with it. She was barely five and a half feet tall. She looked like a teenager. He knew she was almost thirty because they'd exchanged ID's online, along with all personal information before the trip.

She had on a bright purple top, a pink fluffy jacket with a black fur lined hood, and blue jeans with—seriously?—pink cowboy boots. On any other woman, the ensemble would have looked ridiculous, but on her, she looked adorable.

She grabbed her suitcases off the line, and he stepped forward to help her and smiled at her when she looked up at him.

"You're taller than I thought," She told him as she handed him one of her bags, and shook her head when he reached for the other. "I got it."

"You're shorter than I thought." He grinned at her, and then started to walk away to go to the truck out in the parking lot to take her back to the house.

"I get that a lot," she muttered, and followed him silently for the rest of the walk.

He loaded her bags in the back seat of the truck, and started the motor, waiting for the engine to heat up the cab.

"Was your flight okay?" he asked her as he rubbed his hands together, having forgotten his leather gloves.

"It was okay. I hope you weren't waiting for too long?" she said, the awkward conversation filling to car.

"Nope. We'll head back to my house. We have a hundred and fifty acres, we have a couple horses, some goats, but mostly, we do dogs. I can show you around when you're ready but I don't advise messing with most of the dogs. We have a combination of German Shepherds and Belgian Shepherds, and many of them are nippy and they bite hard. I do have a pet. He lives in the house with me. That one loves attention," he told her as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Another Shepherd?" she asked him.

"Nope. A Chihuahua," he said, and grinned at her.

"Well, that's...a small dog." She blinked at him, realizing he'd managed to shock her. He was every inch a manly man, so to picture him with a tiny little lapdog was an interesting mental image.

"Don't let him fool you. Fred is every inch the guard dog. He might only be a few pounds, but he can intimidate almost any of our bigger dogs. He rules the roost around here." Sloan grinned at her.

"Fred?" she asked. "Where did that come from?"

"Named after Fred Astaire. I like old black and white movies," Sloan told her. "And my Fred is quite the little dancer."

"Interesting. I like black and white movies too. Cary Grant is one of my favorites old actors," Amy told him, glad they'd found something in common to talk about.

"Don't be surprised if Fred takes a while to warm up to you though, he usually doesn't like strangers," Sloan warned her.

"That's okay, I'm patient," Amy reassured him, and looked out the window.

It took about forty-five minutes to drive out to his house from the airport, and the property and house surprised her. Everything was immaculate, and the house was bigger than she thought it would be. It was a white, three story farmhouse with a full wraparound front porch with a wooden swing that rocked gently in the breeze.

"It's beautiful," she said in awe. "Did you grow up here?"

"Yes, I did. It was a good place to raise a kid. We have a creek on the back of the property that you can swim in during the hot summer months, and we have a pond that freezes in the winter that's about four feet deep, just enough to ice skate on," he told her as he pulled up behind the back of the house and parked.

"We have some cabins that our staff live in, off behind the kennels. There’s about five people working here, and I have a house keeper who comes out once a week to help with the house. I'll introduce you to everyone when you're ready." He grabbed her bags from the back as they got out of the truck.

Amy followed him up the stairs onto the porch and through the doors into the kitchen. White tiles shined across the floor, with dark wood cabinets and counter tops to offset the light walls and flooring. Stainless steel appliances gave the kitchen an updated farm look.

He took her out of the kitchen through a small hallway to the stairs, and when he started up, she followed him.

"We have the laundry and storage in the basement. It's the door off the kitchen. We have a half bath in the hall under the stairs, the master suite has another bathroom, and then there are two bathrooms, one in the hallway here, and one in the attic upstairs. It was turned into a mother-in-law apartment, but it's empty right now. When I was growing up, it was my play room," he told her and opened a door that had a room fully furnished with a double bed, dressers, a rocking chair and hardwood floors. It had rose-colored walls and the bedding was white and lacey.

"This works, thank you," Amy told him as he set her luggage on the bed.

"The bathroom is across the hall. The master bedroom, if you need me, is down at the end of the hallway on the left. The door on the right is a large storage closet. The little door is the stairs to the attic. I can give you the full tour when you’ve settled in."

Sloan hesitated and looked at her, wondering if she'd let him kiss her yet, and then deciding against it. He found her attractive. Really, really attractive. On the other hand, he didn't want to scare her off.

They heard barking and a small dog in a green sweater came running full speed into the room and then stopped and stared at Amy when he saw her. Amy grinned at him.

"Cute. You dress him up?" she giggled.

"It gets cold. He needs a sweater," Sloan said, feeling a little defensive about dressing his dog up.

"Don't worry. It doesn't hurt your manliness that you play dress up with your dog." She patted his arm to reassure him and then knelt down and put her hand out for Fred. She didn't move, letting the dog come to her.

Fred stared at her, and then inched forward to sniff her hand.

"Hi Fred, I'm Amy," she told him softly, as if she was talking to one of her preschoolers.

Fred looked up at her then bumped her hand with his head, wanting her to pet him. She scratched him behind the ears and then he jumped up on her legs where she'd knelt down and let her hold him.

"Well, that's new," Sloan said, watching Fred cuddle with her. He seemed to like her. Fred was normally very picky about people, so he took it as a good sign that his dog liked Amy.

"He's adorable," Amy told him and then rubbed the dog’s head gently as she stood up to face Sloan. "I'll let you have him back. Thank you for letting me come out here. I appreciate your bluntness. I know we shared some of our history in emails, and you can understand why honesty is so important to me."

"Well, I promise you I'm not gay," Sloan told her, and smiled. He walked over to her to take the dog, and before he could stop himself, leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips as he plucked the dog out of her arms.

Amy gasped and watched him wink at her, and take the dog out of the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

She brought her hand up to her lips. They still tingled from the touch of his mouth.

Chemistry definitely didn't seem like it was going to be a problem. At least, not for her. She just hoped that whatever was between them could blossom into something besides physical attraction.

She wasn't sure sex was enough to make a relationship last.

Chapter 4

"Do you like horseback riding?" Sloan asked Amy after she'd been there for a couple of days.

They'd been getting along famously, and Amy was worried it was almost too good to be true. Sloan was a perfect gentleman, kind and thoughtful. He hadn't tried to kiss her again and Amy was going crazy wanting to see if the chemistry she'd felt was her imagination, or something real.

"I haven't been on a horse in years. I do like horses. A lot," Amy told him as she speared a pancake off the serving tray with her fork and brought it to her plate. She buttered it and put some syrup on it, and thanked Sloan when he refilled her coffee cup.

"Say the word, and I'll get the horses out and we can go for a ride." Sloan leaned back in his chair watching her eat. He liked that she had a hearty appetite and wasn't afraid of food.

"Sure, sometime in the future that would be nice." Amy took a sip of her coffee and realized she needed to talk to him about the requirements of the will. "I want to know more about what you need from me, Sloan. I know you said you needed to be married, but you mentioned a baby?"

Sloan set his coffee cup on the table and rubbed his chin with his hand before answering her, "Yes. Within six months of the marriage, we’re supposed to be pregnant. I'm assuming there aren't any infertility issues, but I'm sure if something were to come up that required medical intervention, there's a way around that as long as we are actively seeking to fix something."

"I see," Amy said, hiding her embarrassment at such a sensitive topic. Her cycles had always been regular, and she wasn't on birth control. Not having had a boyfriend for quite a while, she hadn't needed it. "I love kids. It's why I'm a teacher. I guess I just hadn't really thought of myself getting pregnant and having my own baby. I know I'm not getting any younger and if I'm going to have a couple kids, now's probably the time. What I was wondering, though, is do you actually want kids, or are you just doing this because it's in the will?"

"I'm open to having kids. I like kids, I even thought I wanted them at some point, but having them within the next few months is because of the will and the requirements my parents laid out to keep my inheritance. But as you say, I'm not getting any younger." He reached across the table to grab Amy's hand she had rested on the table. "Are you sure you can do this?"

"I like you Sloan. I like your house, I like your dog, and I want kids. I've seen marriages started on worse. I understand why you'd treat this more like a business arrangement, and I think the chemistry between us might be able to grow into a lot more than just friendship if we gave it a chance. But, um.” She toyed with her pancake and hoped she wasn’t blushing too much. “I do want to sleep with you before we get married. At least once. I need to be sure that it's something I can handle before we tie the knot. I don't believe in buying a car unseen and without test driving it, and I feel the same way about a man."

There. That was her being honest back to him.

"Well," Sloan said, blinking at her. "I don't think I'll have any issues in that department. I, uh, find you very attractive."

"The feeling is mutual. I feel like this could really work out. I like your company, you seem like a great guy, and I'm glad I took the risk of coming out here and meeting you. You know, the only reason I even had a dating profile is because my sister made me put one up to it."

"Just so were on the same page, I haven't been with anyone since I was discharged from the military," Sloan told her, not quite meeting her eyes as he poured out information he’d never told anyone else.

"Me either,” Amy confided. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I suppose you just wanted me to know?"

"Something like that. Um. I’ve never been very good at talking to women, and this is uncharted ground for me. I suppose if we are going to end up married, I should be able to tell you anything," Sloan told her honestly.

"I appreciate that," Amy told him, and she really did. Lack of honesty in her past relationship had made her a little bitter and nervous about trusting a new man, but something about Sloan just made her feel like she could do this. That she could trust him.

"I was going to start a fire in the fireplace, since it started to snow. Would you like some hot cocoa? I know we just had coffee, but I always like to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace," Sloan grinned, and Amy could picture him as a little boy excited over the holidays, with hot chocolate and cookies for Santa.

She didn't think she'd have any regrets with Sloan, but she wanted to be sure. She just had to figure out how to initiate the sex without making it feel awkward.

Later that evening, they were sitting in front of the fireplace together, drinking hot cocoa with little marshmallows. Amy reached over and took Sloan's hand and set it on her leg. She was trying to send him a signal that he could touch her, without being too pushy about it, or making him uncomfortable.

Sloan got the hint and he started to gently massage her leg and scooted closer to her and Amy leaned against his shoulder. She finished her hot chocolate and set it on the coffee table, on a coaster to protect the antique wood that it was made from. Leaning back she shifted her body so she was facing Sloan more and then leaned in closer to him to put her head on his shoulder.

Staring down at her, Sloan pushed a strand of hair from her cheek up behind her ear and then lowered his head to kiss her. The hot chocolate flavored his lips as they met hers, sweet and enticing, and she parted her lips to allow his tongue to meld against her own.

Wrapping her arm around his neck, they started to make out on the couch like horny teenagers. It was hot, exciting, and he had his hand up her sweater starting to undo her bra when the door burst open and one of the dog trainers burst through the doors.

"We have a problem, Sloan," he told them.

"What's going on Joe?" Sloan pulled his hand out from Amy's shirt quickly, and acted almost like he forgot she was there when he went to address the problem.

"The bitch that was about to have puppies got out of her kennel, and she won't come out of the horse barn. She's got herself cornered in a stall and is threatening to bite anyone who comes close to her. She's freaking out and I'm worried about the puppies." Joe told Sloan, and motioned for him to come with him. "She was your mom's favorite. She really only likes women and since Mindy is on vacation for another week, we don't have anyone else to help, and I don't know what to do. I can't tranq her when she's about to give birth, it might hurt the puppies."

Joe sounded stressed out and agitated. He hadn't even noticed Amy.

"She prefers females, right?" Amy put in, realizing that maybe she could help them. "Maybe I could help?"

Sloan and Joe both turned to look at Amy, and Joe shrugged at her. "If you ain't scared of getting bit, you're more than welcome to try," he told her.

Sloan nodded. "I'm fine with it if you want to see if she'll tolerate you. You won over Fred, so maybe you can work your magic on Stella."

"Stella?" Amy asked as she grabbed her winter coat off the hook by the door where she'd left it. Sloan grabbed his too and held the door open for her. It was snowing, the wind blew, and it was chilly.

"Officially she's Princess Stella of King Louie, which was her dad's name," Sloan explained as they walked outside to the barn. "The dogs all have fancy pedigree names, but we end up calling them by a nickname. It's too much of a mouthful otherwise."