Comfort of a Man (Arabesque) (14 page)

Tonight, she’d tried to push him away—maybe because he’d gotten too close. He smiled at the thought. While she was so busy declaring what she didn’t want, he was busy proving her wrong. The bottom line was loving Brooklyn came easy to him.

“What are you doing sitting alone in the dark?” Georgia asked, clicking the light on from behind him.

“I was just thinking.” Isaiah glanced over his shoulder and watched as she entered the room. “Is there something I can get for you?”

She waved off his question and settled in the armchair across from him. “I’m fine. I want to hear what’s got you thinking so hard.”

“Brooklyn.” He shrugged as if the answer should have been obvious. “We sort of had a little fight this evening.”

“Sort of? Little fight?” She laughed. “Honey, either you did or didn’t. Which is it?”

As usual, his mother’s directness unarmed him. “Okay. We had a fight.”

“Serious?”

“Nah. I don’t think so. In fact, I’m thinking about driving back over there.”

His mother nodded. “A couple should never go to bed angry. That was something your father and I strongly
believed in.” She folded her arms and studied him. “You love her, don’t you?”

His smile turned sly. “More than anything.”

“It does my heart good to hear you say that,” she said, and nodded toward the door. “Go talk to her.”

Isaiah stood, walked over to his mother, and then kissed her gently on her forehead. “Thanks, Mom.”

Brooklyn picked up the phone to call Isaiah when the doorbell rang.

“He’s back,” she gushed as she threw back the covers, grabbed her robe, and rushed down the stairs. The grandfather clock chimed 1:00 a.m. as she fumbled with the locks and threw back the door, ready to apologize.

However, the stoic face that greeted her was the last person she’d expected to see.

“Evan, what are you doing here?”

E
van shoved his hands into his pants pockets and flashed her an uneven smile. “Hello, Brooke.”

A warm breeze ruffled the hem of her robe. She remembered what little she had on and tightened her belt. “Is something wrong? Where is Jaleel?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Probably sleeping like a baby back at the house.”

Brooklyn remained confused and cautious at his strange behavior. “Then what—”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Something must be wrong, she reasoned before allowing him to enter. “Come in.”

Evan crossed the threshold and she closed the door behind him. Folding her arms across her chest, she
waited for an explanation. She took in his disheveled appearance and absently wondered when he’d last had a full night’s sleep.

Evan’s gaze dragged slowly over her appearance and finally he smiled as though she’d passed his inspection. “You look great.”

Her gaze narrowed while her irritation stiffened her back. “Surely, you didn’t drive across town to tell me that.”

His smile turned sheepish as he shook his head. “No, I guess I didn’t,” he admitted, but he still hesitated in giving an explanation. “Can we go in and sit down?”

Her impatience snapped. “
What
are you doing here?”

He shrugged, but his cheesy smile thinned. “I want…need to talk with you.”

She weighed giving him a few minutes of her time versus kicking his sorry butt out. In fact, the scales had tilted toward the latter when he broke into her thoughts.

“That’s if you’re not busy.” He glanced toward the stairs and back at her.

Her hands fell to her hips. “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not. What difference does it make?” She pivoted toward the door, her tolerance for games maxed out. “Go home.”

He rushed forward and placed his hand against the door to prevent her from opening it. “Brooke, I’m sorry. I had no right to ask.”

She glanced up at him and was shocked by his look and sound of desperation.

Evan drew in a breath as his shoulders slumped. “Can we
please
sit and talk for a little while?”

It had been a long time since she’d seen this side of her ex-husband. So long, in fact, that she was taken completely off guard and was unsure of what to say. She stepped away from the door and once again folded her arms.

“Please?”

Her gaze met his and lingered for a long moment before she finally nodded. “Thanks.”

Brooklyn set aside her anger, pain, and distrust. “I guess we can talk in the living room.” She turned and led the way. As she came around the sofa, she clicked on the lamps on the end tables.

Evan waited until she sat down before he took the space next to her and flashed her another sheepish smile.

“All right.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m listening.”

He nodded and seemed to struggle with where to begin.

“Evan, you’re scaring me. If something is wrong, just spit it out. I can handle it.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Brooke. I mean, something is wrong, but it’s not what you think. Actually, I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“You’re rambling.”

He stopped and closed his eyes as he drew in another breath. “Sorry.”

She flashed him a genuine smile. “It’s okay.”

Another deep breath and he tried again. “I owe you the biggest apology.”

He captured her full attention and she settled back against the sofa and waited.

“I know I’m to blame for the failure of our marriage. I realize now that I was wrong for a lot of things.”

Brooklyn rolled her eyes, convinced that the two sentences were about all she could stomach. “Please tell me you didn’t come over here to tell me this.”

When he couldn’t meet her stare, she laughed with disbelief. “Okay, fine. It was your fault. Thanks for the confirmation.” She went to get up.

Evan placed a hand on her arm. “Hear me out.”

She stayed put against her better judgment.

“Macy and I were a mistake,” he said, finally meeting her gaze. “I know that now.”

Had she heard him right?

“Brooke.” He took hold of her hand. “I know what I’m about to ask you might come as a surprise, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t given me an answer tonight. I want you to really think it over.” He brought her hand up and placed it against his heart. “Think about our twenty-year history and give me an honest answer.”

“She left you, didn’t she?” She snatched her hand away. It was the only thing she could come up with. His
hesitation was her answer. She laughed and shook her head. “This is so pathetic.”

“Brooke—”

She held up a hand to shut him up. “So what’s this really about? You’re afraid of being alone?”

“No,” he insisted in a firm voice. “She didn’t leave me…exactly.”

“Well, you
exactly
left me or am I supposed to forget that?”

“Of course not,” he said, managing to look contrite and amazingly close to tears. “I made a mistake.”

“You’re damn right you did,” she snapped.

“Brooke, can we please set aside the anger?” He met and held her sharp gaze. “I don’t know what got into me or what I thought I was searching for. And tonight I realized I had what I wanted all along with you…and our son.”

“Evan—”

He took her hand again. “I want to come back. I want to give our marriage another try.” He inched closer, squeezing her hand. “Will you give me another chance?”

“I hope I didn’t catch you two at a bad time.”

Brooklyn and Evan jumped up, startled by the intrusion of another voice.

When her eyes landed on Isaiah’s crushed expression and the bundle of carnations at his side, her heart plummeted.

Guilt blazed through Brooklyn as her gaze swung
between the two men. It also took her a full minute to realize they were waiting for her to say something.

“Evan just came over to talk…I’m sure this looks a little odd.” A smile fluttered weakly at her lips and she wasn’t sure whether she was helping or tossing gasoline onto a fire.

“It’s a little odd,” Isaiah agreed and folded his arms in front of him as his gaze now swung to Evan. “We meet again.”

Evan darkened, not bothering to mask his anger or jealousy.

Both men held their posts, waiting for the other to make his exit. Brooklyn realized she’d have to ask one of them to leave.

She turned toward Evan. “I’ll definitely give it some thought.” She glanced at Isaiah, and then back at her ex-husband. “I’ll call you.”

Evan’s jaw hardened while his eyes resembled black steel. However, Brooklyn experienced a rush of relief when he just nodded and moved quietly out of the living room.

With slumped shoulders, she deserted Isaiah and followed Evan to the door.

When Evan crossed the threshold, he stopped and turned back toward Brooklyn. Gone was any evidence of his previous anger. “How serious is it between you two?”

A residue of pain stained his question and she understood how much it cost his pride to ask.

“You lost the right to ask a long time ago,” she answered in a low voice.

His gaze met hers and she was surprised by its sparkling sheen. “I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me, didn’t I?”

“The best thing that ever happened to us.” She pressed her lips together to prevent herself from saying more.

He nodded and lowered his gaze before making his final plea. “Think it over, Brooklyn.” He turned and stalked off toward his car.

She watched him, and then slowly closed the door.

Emotionally exhausted, she walked back into the living room and glanced up at Isaiah.

He said nothing as he studied her. Slowly, a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. He set the bundle of carnations down on a nearby end table, and then opened his arms.

She went to him and buried herself against his chest. His embrace, his scent—
he
felt like home. This was where she belonged.

E
xactly seven nights later, two weeks since Isaiah and Brooklyn’s self-imposed torment, the sex-starved couple dove into bed at the stroke of midnight. Eager hands tore at each other’s clothes as hot lips raced to reclaim familiar territory.

At times their fervor resulted in fumbles and awkward positions, which both handled with tolerance and laughter. Soon enough, their bodies found their rhythm and their passionate lovemaking elevated them to a plane that only existed in paradise.

Hours later, while Brooklyn slept peacefully, Isaiah came to a decision. He smiled in the fading darkness, and then fell asleep next to the woman he loved.

When he finally opened his eyes, sunlight flooded the
room and the space beside him was empty. The clock next to the bed read ten o’clock and he was amazed he’d overslept. Brooklyn had undoubtedly left for work hours ago.

A hot shower revived him before he made a quick breakfast of eggs and toast, and then rushed out with a clear destination in mind.

Nancy, the sales associate at Opulence, remembered Isaiah from his tiara purchase and greeted him with a smile.

“I’m looking for the perfect engagement ring,” he announced with a boastful smile.

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” she said and escorted him to a private area. He had a clear image of what he wanted and Nancy listened intensely before she disappeared. When she returned with two associates and six trays of magnificent emerald-cut diamond rings, Isaiah felt like a kid in a toy store.

The afternoon flew by as he studied and compared each ring through a 10x loupe. Through it all, Nancy exhibited the patience of Job, while he fussed over carat, cut, color, and clarity.

Just when he thought all hope was lost, he found it: a ring that stole his breath and won an enormous smile from Nancy.

“No woman could say no to that ring,” she said as he handed over his credit card.

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

Brooklyn didn’t go to work. Instead she spent the day driving around Atlanta visiting nostalgic places such as the church where she’d married Evan, Grady Hospital where Jaleel had been born, and even Emory Hospital, which had been Evan’s second home during the early years of their marriage.

Wasn’t it just yesterday when Evan proposed in her parent’s kitchen or when Jaleel took his first steps? No. Yesterday was when Evan broke her heart and walked out on their eighteen-year marriage.

But, when did she meet the tall, gray-eyed Isaiah who mended the shattered pieces? When did she let him into her life and, Lord, when did she start loving him?

She watched the sunset over the sea of cars on the interstate. “I can’t do this again,” she whispered, though her words had no effect on her heart. “
Why
am I doing this again?”

Evan’s woeful expression floated to the surface. He wanted her back. She gave a half laugh and shook her head. He put her through hell, popped up with an age-old excuse of “he didn’t know what had come over him,” and expected her to welcome him back with open arms.

To add pressure, Evan had contacted her mother and made his plea known. Her parents, dismayed by their divorce, had renewed hope and were actively trying to put her family back together again. But her parents didn’t know about Isaiah.

Attentive, beautiful, and caring Isaiah.

Would he ever break her heart?

Brooklyn grew frustrated trying to predict the future as she inched along the freeway. Dealing with questions on whether it was too soon to jump back into a relationship, or how Jaleel would react, elevated her headache to a full migraine.

By the time she pulled into her driveway, she had forced her troubled thoughts into the background and concentrated on what to prepare for dinner. With the summer slowly drawing to a close, the remaining time she had with Isaiah should be special.

A night on the town held some appeal but, frankly, she didn’t want to share him with the world. Tuesday night dance classes were enough.

Once inside, she spent three hours preparing a special Italian dinner in between loading clothes in the washer before she rushed upstairs to get ready. Wonderful memories of her and Isaiah making love swirled inside her head and brought a smile to her face as she moved from room to room.

In the shower, one thing certainly became clear: she didn’t just merely love Isaiah. She was
in
love with him. Her hands stilled on her body as she let the realization sink in, and then an incredulous laughter bubbled and echoed off the tile.

Later that evening, Isaiah arrived at Brooklyn’s house dressed in gray khaki slacks and a loose gray pullover. His clothes selection had taken twice his normal time. To
show up in his finest would pique Brooklyn’s curiosity, so he decided to keep it casual.

He slid his hand into his pocket and fumbled with the jewelry box before he entered the house.

Brooklyn descended the stairs like a breath of fresh air. Dressed in jeans and a red V-neck top, she made him feel as though he’d overdressed.

“Don’t you look nice,” she complimented him as she walked up to him and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “I hope you’re hungry. I made dinner.”

So much for the reservations he’d made. “Great,” he said and heard his own anxiousness in his voice.

Her brows furrowed, but her smile remained sincere. “Are you all right?”

He shrugged and tried to play it cool, but his acting skills were questionable at best. “So, what are we having?”

Her suspicious expression lingered for a second longer, and then she, too, shrugged. “Veal Sorrentino.”

“Mmm. It smells and sounds wonderful.” He slid an arm around her waist and placed a kiss on top of her head. He’d propose after dinner, he decided, and another wave of nervousness washed over him. “When do we dig in?”

“No time like the present.”

The phone rang and Isaiah frowned when he felt Brooklyn tense. “Problem?”

A strange smile fluttered to her lips. “Nah. I’ll answer
it. Do you mind getting the plates and glasses down for me?”

“Not at all.”

Brooklyn headed to the living room while Isaiah went into the kitchen. The caller ID displayed her parents’ name and phone number, and her energy rushed from her body with a dramatic sigh.

“Hello, Mom.” On the other end, her mother sounded quite the opposite: bubbly, vibrant. “Yes. I got your two messages,” she whispered and checked around to make sure Isaiah didn’t sneak up on her. “I can’t talk about this now. I have company.”

Isaiah’s head jutted from around the corner. “Red or white wine?” he asked.

“White,” she answered, and then focused her attention back on her mother. “No. I wasn’t talking to you. Yes. I have a date and no, it’s not with Evan.” Her mother’s sudden gasp and then silence put her on edge. “Can we just talk about this later?”

Her mother bent her ear for a few more minutes, clearly unhappy about what she’d just learned. Brooklyn was finally successful in getting her off the phone.

“Is everything all right?” Isaiah asked when she finally joined him in the dining room.

“Never better,” she assured him with a fake smile.

During the course of their meal, Brooklyn allowed the world outside her door to fade. All that mattered now was the man across from her.

Isaiah hardly tasted his meal. He was too busy
trying to figure out a way to work his proposal into the conversation. It was customary to propose on bended knee, that much he knew, but nothing else.

He’d heard of proposals where the man slipped the ring into the woman’s wineglass, but he instantly had horrible images of the thing being swallowed and the evening ending with a trip to the emergency room—definitely not a good idea.

“I rented a movie,” she said, standing from the table and collecting their plates.

“Oh?” He stood and helped clear the table, while his thoughts circled around the weight in his pocket.

“Hello. Anybody home?” Brooklyn waved a hand in front of his face.

Embarrassed, he laughed. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Only that I won fifty million dollars in the Georgia lottery and I’m moving to Brazil.”

“That’s great. How about we go into the living room? I’ll bring some more wine.”

She laughed as she stared at him. “Something is definitely up with you.” She crossed her arms. “Out with it.”

He tried to blink the confusion from his eyes. “What makes you say something’s wrong? I just wanted to just spend some quiet time with you.”

Her expression remained the same. “Uh-huh.”

He retreated farther into the kitchen and grabbed
another bottle of wine. “All right. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“Is it serious?” she asked worriedly.

This time his smile came easy. “I’d like to think so.” He moved closer and brushed another kiss against her forehead.

Together they walked into the living room and settled on the sofa.

Isaiah’s heart pounded hard in his rib cage as she looked up at him with anxious eyes. The space between them intensified and he was unable to recall any of the speech he’d practiced for the better part of the day.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re going back to Texas?” she guessed.

Isaiah’s heart melted at the sadness edging her eyes. Yet that same emotion gave him hope.

“No. I’m not leaving. That’s something else I’ll have to address, but not now.”

She exhaled and relief deflated her posture. “Then what is it?”

The phone rang and they both groaned.

Brooklyn started to get up.

“Don’t answer it,” Isaiah said, wanting to get this moment over with before he had a heart attack.

“I have to.” She patted his arm. “It might be Jaleel.” She stood and walked over to the phone by the door of the living room. “Hello.”

Meanwhile, Isaiah dropped his head into the palm of
his hand and closed his eyes as he mouthed the words “will you marry me” in a test run.

“Oh, my God,” Brooklyn gasped.

Isaiah jerked his head toward her as she fluttered a hand over her mouth. Instantly, he jumped to his feet.

In the next second, tears slid from her eyes as she looked up at him and said, "Jaleel has been in an accident."