Hot Like Fire (9 page)

Garcelle looked down into the bowl of chocolate,
and she bit her bottom lip as she clearly pictured herself nude and riding Kade, astride a galloping
horse and through a field of flowers. As he rode the
horse faster and faster, she rode him harder and
harder. Each movement of the horse's hindquarters sent his shaft deeper inside of her as she held
on to him for dear life.

Was it possible to ride a man while riding a horse?

The doorbell rang, and Garcelle frowned as the
image faded away in her mind. Having a freaky daydream about Kade Strong wasjust plain stupido, and
having a freaky daydream about being on a horse
with Kade Strong was ridiculous, because she didn't
fool with horses at all.

"I'll get it," Kadina said, jumping down off the
stool and running out of the kitchen.

Garcelle was spreading the brownie mix into the
glass bakeware when she heard Kadina say, "My
daddy's sleeping. He don't need no prayer."

Garcelle grabbed the dish towel to clean her
hands as she made her way out of the kitchen to the
front door. She rolled her eyes heavenward at the
woman standing there, holding a bible, but dang
near dressed for the club. "Can I help you?" Garcelle asked as she pulled Kadina behind her.

The woman looked Garcelle up and down with a
slow thoroughness before she visibly stiffened her
spine. "And you are?" she asked, with attitude.

Oh no, she didn't, Garcelle thought, with sistah-
girl spunk. "I'm Garcelle Santos, Kadina's ninera.
Can I help you?"

"A nina what?" the woman asked.

"She's my nanny," Kadina said, moving forward
to stand beside Garcelle.

"Oh ... okay then," the woman said, with a big,
cheesy grin. "My name is Portia Klinton. I attend church with Kade. Could you let him know I'm here
to check on him?"

It was Garcelle's turn to take in the woman's
skintight pants and formfitting T-shirt. "Listen, he's
asleep. I'll let him know you dropped by."

She started to close the door, but Portia put her
foot in the doorway. Garcelle backed up, opened
the door wide, and looked at the woman like she
was crazy.

Portia went in her bag and pulled out a small pad
and pen. "If you're not too busy to take a message?"
she said, with false sweetness.

Garcelle held her hand out. "Of course not," she
said, with mock sincerity.

Portia pressed the note into Garcelle's hand.
Garcelle looked down and immediately recognized
both the handwriting and the phone number. It
was 555-0000. The woman was the freaky secret admirer. Since that first grotesque dildo, the woman
had sent Kade eight other gifts, each more sexually
explicit than the last.

"I'll make sure it's properly delivered," Garcelle
said, with her heavy accent.

"Please do," said Portia.

"You know, I've been watching reruns of this
show called Martin," Garcelle told Portia.

"And?" Portia retorted, with attitude.

"I learned something that I want to show you."

Portia looked confused.

"Step back a little," Garcelle said in a friendly
tone.

Portia took a step back. "Now what?"

Garcelle tilted her head to the side. "This," she
said sweetly before she stepped back and swung the
door closed.

"Now to make sure it's properly delivered, the
way I promised," Garcelle said over her shoulder to
Kadina as she strolled back into the kitchen. She
balled up the paper and threw it up into the air like
she was making a free throw. It landed in the trash,
with a swoosh.

Kadina covered her mouth with both of her
hands as she burst into a fit of giggles.

Garcelle tossed and turned in her bed. She flipped
from her back onto her stomach and onto her back
again. Her smoky brown eyes opened, and she
turned her head on the pillow to look at her nightstand clock. 12:15 a.m.

She couldn't sleep.

She pulled back her curtain and looked up at the
night sky. The moon was completely full and seemed
close enough to touch. It was beautiful and haunting
all at once.

Kicking back the covers, Garcelle hopped out of
bed in her wifebeater and an old pair of men's
boxers. She padded barefoot to the kitchen and
headed straight to the fridge for a can of light beer.
She popped the tab and took a deep gulp.

"It's a little late for that, isn't it?"

Gabrielle nearly choked on the beer as she
whirled around and found her father sitting at the
kitchen table, cloaked by darkness. "Papi, what are
you doing up?" she asked as she reached over to the
wall to turn on the light.

"I sit here sometimes and look at your mother's picture as the moonlight comes through the door."
Carlos leaned forward and pushed back the chair
at the head of the table. "Bring me one," he told
her in Spanish.

Garcelle grabbed another beer before she walked
across the small kitchen to take the seat. She passed
him the beer before she took another sip of her
own. "Papi, you know we wouldn't be upset if you
wanted to start dating again," she told him. She hesitated before she said the rest. "I don't think Mami
would mind, either."

Carlos took a long swig of his beer before he
looked over at his daughter, with his boyishly handsome face. "When you love somebody the way that
I loved my Maria and you lose them, your heart is
so tied up with trying to heal. You feel like a piece
of you-a big piece of you-is gone. So your heart
doesn't have room to fill it with love for someone
else. It wouldn't be fair to that person. Until the
heart heals, you would forever make comparisons.
It takes time."

Garcelle used her fingertip to trace the top of the
can as she fell silent. She was up at midnight, sipping
beer while she talked to her father, because she
couldn't sleep. And she couldn't sleep, because with
each passing day, her physical attraction to Kade
Strong was growing. The man was gorgeous. Temptingly delicious. Devilishly handsome. Devastatingly
sexy. Disarmingly charming. Distractingly appealing.

She was a healthy, red-blooded woman, with a
healthy libido, when she allowed that door to be
opened ... but she didn't want to be attracted to
Kade Strong. She didn't want to keep dreaming of
making wild and kinky love to him astride a horse.
She didn't want to go to sleep and dream of his hands and mouth and tongue ... and other things
pleasing to her. She didn't want to wake up to find
that just a dream of that man had the bud between
her legs visibly pulsating. A wet dream!

Garcelle released a heavy breath.

"Something you want to talk about?" Carlos
asked as he rose to pour the rest of his beer down
the drain.

She shook her head and took another sip of her
beer. His words of undying and unending love for
his wife were proof positive that Kade Strong, the
handsome and oh so sexy grieving widower, was not
a man to even consider catching feelings about.
During the last few weeks, they had settled into a
platonic friendship that she enjoyed.

He was her friend, and that was all they would be.
That was all she wanted them to be. Period.

Carlos tugged on Garcelle's ponytail as he walked
out of the kitchen. "Go to bed," he told her, with
a yawn.

She drained the last of her beer and then tossed
the can into the trash. "Papi, anyone ever tell you
that you look like Oscar de La Hoya?" she asked.

Carlos laughed richly and fully as he reached his
bedroom door. "That's the beer talking. Good night,
Garcelle."

She walked into her bedroom and closed the
door behind her before she climbed into bed. Perhaps the beer would put her to sleep so deeply that
she wouldn't even dream of Kade Strong.

Kadina climbed out of her bed and made her
way across the cool hardwood floor to the pastelcolored curio cabinet in the corner of her room. Her father had said that before she was born, her
mother had picked out each and every one of the
glass and crystal figurines in the cabinet. Kadina
carefully opened the glass door and stood up on
her toes to flick a switch in the cabinet. A small
light popped on, and a sweet lullaby, like in a music
box, began to play.

She closed the cabinet door, with a small click,
and stepped back to enjoy the way the figurines
seemed to sparkle in the darkness as the music
played. She smiled before she climbed back in bed
and got under the covers. She turned on her side
so that she could look at the curio cabinet from
where she lay.

She hadn't told a soul that one night last week,
she'd dreamt that she was just a baby in her mother's
arms in front of the lit curio cabinet as her mother
sung her that same lullaby. It had seemed so real. For
the first time in a long time, she'd felt a connection
to her mother.

Whenever she couldn't sleep or her new room
was just too much for her, she would turn on the
curio cabinet and feel her mother's presence there
in the room, watching over her.

It wasn't long at all before her eyes drifted closed
and she felt the wind coming through the window
touch her cheek like a kiss.

Hank kissed the top of Mimi's head, which rested
on his chest. It felt good to have her warm body
snuggled close to his. Damn good.

Who knew that his daughter's eccentric friend
would turn out to be just what he needed when he
needed it. A dance at Bianca and Kahron's wedding had turned into nearly six months of phone conversations. Bianca didn't even know that he'd
been down to Atlanta twice to spend the weekend
with Mimi.

She was good for him. He could tell her anything. Ask her anything. And it wasn't Mimi in her
"I'm wild, and I'll say anything to get attention"
mode. She was calm, laid back, rational, logical,
and smart. This was Beulah.

He chuckled to think he was probably the only
person alive who knew that was her real name. She
swore she'd gut him with a fork if he told a soul.

He loved her, and she loved him. They had decided it was time for Bianca to know, and so this
time Mimi had come to him. They hadn't wanted to
spring it on her like they did, but who knew Bianca
would be standing there the exact moment Mimi arrived. The look on Bianca's face had been priceless.

Honestly, he couldn't tell if she was pleased or not,
but it didn't matter. After the hell Trishon had put
him through, his daughter should be happy for him.

Mimi stirred in her sleep. She smacked her lips
slightly as she tilted her head up to look at him in the
moonlight. Her hair was wild and mussed. Her makeup was gone, except for those long eyelashes. The
scent of her perfume mingled with the scent of the
sex. She had never looked or smelled better to him.

"Hey, you," she said, her voice more husky and soft.

His grin widened as he felt her hand firmly close
around his growing erection. "Say it for me," he
pleaded as she placed her nude and svelte body atop
his.

Mimi rolled her eyes heavenward. "Do I have to?"
she asked in her natural voice.

"Please."

She cleared her throat and swallowed hard. "You
and me makes we," she said in the mock nasal tone
of hers.

They laughed together until Mimi straddled his
hips and proved to him that at that moment, there
wasn't a darn thing funny.

Bianca tightly grasped Kahron's buttocks as he
stroked deeply within her. Each stroke brought a
gasp from deep within her until she felt she'd go
breathless. As they came to a spasmodic climax together, she kissed his shoulder and then his neck.

Kahron rolled over onto his back, bringing her
body atop his as he remained planted within her
until his hardness eased. He stroked her back. "You
okay?" he asked.

Bianca lifted her head from his sweaty chest to
look at him. "Wasn't it as good as always?" she whispered to him in the moonlight.

"Actually ..

Bianca's mouth dropped open in surprise and a
bit of hurt. "Actually what?" she snapped.

"Physically everything was as good as always, but as
much as I know I put it down-and I did lay it on
you-I could tell you weren't all there. It's like your
mind was somewhere else."

Bianca kissed his chin, enjoying the feel of his
stubble against her lips. "You're right. I wasn't all
there. I'm sorry, baby."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Bianca rolled off of him and then sat on the edge
of the bed, with her legs crossed. She grabbed a
pillow and held it close in front of her. "I love my father, and I want him to be happy. And I love Mimi
to death...."

"But," Kahron urged as he rolled over onto his
side to lightly massage her lower back.

"But I would rather get into the ring with barbeque sauce on my ears and fight Mike Tyson."

Kahron laughed. "Day-um, is it like that?" he
asked.

Bianca turned to him, with a serious look on her
face. "Oh, it's like that."

"Because. . ."

"Because Mimi is a drunk. She sips on liquor all
day long from her flask like it's water. She may not
act like a drunk. She may not talk like she's drunk
or smell like she's drunk, but trust me, her ass be
drunk."

"So you're worried your dad will fall off the
wagon?"

Bianca flung her hands in the air, knocking the
pillow to the floor. "Off the wagon? Shit. I'm scared
she's gone drag him under the wheels of the wagon."

"Talk to your dad. Let him know how you feel.
Hell, be honest with Mimi, too."

Bianca nodded as she dropped her chin into her
hand. "He's just worked really hard to get himself
together, and I'd hate for it all to go to waste. His
life, his business. Us."

Kahron flung back the covers, sat up, and moved
behind his wife. He wrapped his legs and arms
around her and kissed the sweet hollow of her
neck.

At that moment-at least for that moment-in
her husband's arms, Bianca felt at peace.