One of the Guys (14 page)

P
hone to her ear
, Ronnie peered into the kitchen, where Tomas and his crew worked, the sound of power tools and pounding hammers almost constant two days into the renovations.

Thanks to the advice from Tomas’s wife Talia, business had picked up at Taylor Automotive & Repair. The auto clinic was a success, and the free publicity from a feature on the evening news created an avalanche of interest. So much so Ronnie had hired on the two part-time technicians as full-timers and could now afford to remodel the kitchen.

She strolled to the sunken living room and plopped onto the sofa next to Diego. His fingers moved quickly over the phone as he replied to a text.

Ronnie draped her leg over his, and continued the conversation with her father. “I have great news.”

He and Miss Loretta had married a month ago in a small ceremony in the backyard, officiated by their church pastor. Seventy-five friends and family attended, including Jacob and Buck from the barbershop, and Anika and her mother.

Her father and Miss Loretta were on their honeymoon—a two-week getaway in Hilton Head.

“What’s the news?” her father asked.

Ronnie clearly heard the sound of the Atlantic Ocean through the phone.

“The association gave our yard an honorary mention in the beautification awards.”

Red, yellow, and purple flowers added eye-popping color to the landscape, and a white sign with black letters sat at the edge of the lawn, announcing the honor to the entire neighborhood.

“It’s your yard now.”

He had partially moved into Miss Loretta’s home. He planned to do a full move-in when they returned from their honeymoon, but had already signed over his house to Ronnie. Thanks to her father, she was now a homeowner and business owner.

“You and Diego did all the work,” Ronnie pointed out.

Diego raised his head when she said his name and then went back to texting.

“Reynolds took the title again, I take it,” Ezekiel said.

“Yes.”

Her father grunted. “I’m starting to think the competition is rigged. Talk to Diego about new ideas. Next year I want you to win top prize.”

Ronnie laughed at his newfound competitive streak. Until Diego, he’d never expressed interest in the awards. “Daddy, I’m not worried about that.”

“Talk to Diego,” he said again.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. I’ll talk to him about it. I’ll let you go so you can soak up some more sun.”

“All right, nugget. We’ll see you in ten days. What’s that?” She heard muffled speaking, as if he’d covered the phone. Then, “Loretta said hello.”

“Tell her I said hello back. Talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Ronnie rested her head against Diego’s arm. “What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked. They’d both taken the day off, the first Saturday in a long time.

“Actually, I need to discuss something with you,” he said.

“What?” She lifted her head to look at him.

She’d come to know his moods very well. At the moment, he wore that cute, mischievous look he sometimes did when he had an idea he wanted to share with her. The same look came over his face whenever he wanted her to try something new in the bedroom. She wondered if that was what he had in mind.

Last time she saw that look, she’d wound up with a particularly powerful orgasm after letting him restrain her with one of his ties. The spontaneity of their sex life was one of the many things she enjoyed about being with him.

“You know I play basketball at the gym.”

“And yet you suck so bad.”

He tugged her ear.

“Stop.” She slapped away his hand.

“Listen up.” Diego tugged her ear again, and Ronnie winced. “As I was saying, you know I usually play on Saturday afternoon and kick ass.” He waited for her to object, and when she didn’t, continued. “We have a competition going with another team, but a member of our team has to cancel.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. How do you plan to get around being one man short?”

The mischievous smile turned sly. “You.”

“Hmm. Is money involved?” Ronnie asked.

“Do Cubans do it better?”

Ronnie sighed. “Yes, Cubans do it better.”

“Say it with more conviction.”

“You know what…”

“You have something smart to say?” He lifted his hand like a claw and flexed his fingers, threatening her with a bout of tickles.

“Cubans are the greatest,” Ronnie said woodenly. “They definitely do it better.”

“We’ll have to work on your delivery,” Diego said. “Anyway, are you game?”

“Is my name Ronnie Taylor, Queen of the Basketball Court?” Ronnie responded with a saucy smile.

He grinned, all white teeth and gorgeous lips. “I don’t know about all that, but I’m ready to whoop some ass.”

T
hat afternoon
, Ronnie and Diego showed up at the gym, but when his teammates learned that Ronnie would be taking the place of their fourth member, their shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Come on, man. No offense, but you brought your lady in here to replace Ty?” The teammate, a light-skinned black male with a white sweatband around his head, stared in disbelief at Ronnie.

She stood to the side, stretching in preparation of the game, and could hear everything they said. Of course, she didn’t get the impression they
didn’t
want her to hear.

“She’s better than all of us. Trust me,” Diego said. All three of them sent their gazes in her direction, and Ronnie continued loosening her limbs, bending from side to side in a lateral stretch.

“Unless she’s Lisa Leslie reincarnated, I’m not buying it,” the other team member said. He looked biracial, black and Asian.

“Hey!” A member from the opposite team yelled across the court and pointed at Ronnie. “We playing ball, or we doing tai chi all day? Cause I came to play ball.”

Ronnie smirked at the remark and her gaze met Diego’s.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I’m always ready.” She couldn’t wait to make those suckers feel her wrath.

The game was a massacre. Ronnie was small and fast and they never saw her coming. She stole the ball and zipped between them for layups. By the time they figured out they needed to keep her from approaching the goal, she changed tactics and only shot three-pointers. They never stood a chance.

At the end of the game, their opponents came over and shook her hand.

“I got mad respect for you,” one of the guys said, giving her a fist bump.

“We have to go celebrate,” Diego’s light-skinned teammate said. “Drinks on me.”

“Nah.” Diego pulled Ronnie to his side. “We’re going home.”

“You sure?” his other teammate said. “You know this cheap bastard never pays for anything, so we might as well take advantage of it.”

Diego chuckled. “We’re good, thanks.”

They watched them walk away. “I owe you,” Diego said.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I’ll go get my gym bag and then we can leave.”

He jogged off toward the bleachers.

“Ronnie.” A voice from the past called her name from nearby.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Leonard, her ex. At least two years had passed since she heard news about him, and four since she’d seen him. Yet here he was, in the flesh. He always kept his body in good shape, and an Atlanta Hawks jersey displayed his thick, muscular arms.

“Hi.”

“How are you?” The corners of his eyes crinkled into a smile. He actually looked pleased to see her. “Still working at your dad’s shop?”

“My dad retired. I run it now,” Ronnie answered proudly.

“Congratulations.” Admiration filled his eyes and voice. “Dahlia came to watch me play. She’s sitting over there.” He indicated the location with a nod toward the bleachers on the opposite side of the gymnasium.

Dahlia looked ready to go out on a night on the town instead of a casual afternoon watching her boyfriend play ball. She wore a short-sleeved maxi dress with long necklaces around her neck, and matching earrings. Her hair was cut in a chic bob, combed without a hair out of place.

Leonard cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you heard, but we got married last year.”

There was a time when hearing that would have destroyed her, but she felt nothing now. Not even a twinge.

“I’m happy to hear it,” Ronnie said and, to her surprise, realized she meant it. She used to wish all manner of harm and injury to befall Leonard, but she harbored no ill will toward him—not anymore. She’d grown a lot, and finding love mellowed her.

“I better go. My boyfriend’s waiting for me.” She indicated Diego over at the bleachers, with the gym bag over his shoulders, watching the exchange.

“Damn. I’m not gay, but that’s a nice-looking dude.”

Ronnie laughed. “He’s not just good-looking—he’s nice, too.”

Leonard scratched the back of his head. “I always felt guilty about the way things ended between us and hoped you met someone.”

“There’s no need for you to feel guilty. Besides, I’m not in the same place I was four years ago.”

“I can tell. You’re…different.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I’m happy,” Ronnie said simply.

“I understand. The right person can really make a difference.”

“Yes, and on that note, I’m really going to leave. Take care, and although you probably don’t need it, good luck with your game.” Ronnie walked away.

“Thanks. And you played your ass off. Good game.” She didn’t know he’d been there the entire time and seen her play.

“I know.”

Leonard chuckled and she strutted over to Diego, an extra bounce in her step. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and they walked toward the exit together.

“Why didn’t you come over?” Ronnie asked, threading her fingers through his hand on her shoulder.

“Had a feeling you needed to talk to him alone. Was I right?”

“Yes.”

“Who is he?”

“Leonard.” A while back, she told him all about the man who broke her heart, and she and Diego commiserated over being cheated on and how the experience tarnished their view of relationships.

She leaned on him as they crossed the gym to the double doors.

“What did he have to say?”

“Nothing much. He complimented me on the game and said I seemed different.”

“Really? What did you say?”

Ronnie smiled up at him. “I told him I was happy.”

S
he felt
his gaze on her, and a prickling sensation crawled up the back of her neck. He had a way of looking at women as if he was undressing them with his eyes. She didn’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but it made her feel stripped bare in his presence. Every time he came near, she became hyper-aware of him and a little anxious, a little…breathless. Even his voice made her feel odd. She liked the sound of his rich baritone too much, and the physiological responses she experienced at his proximity were clearly inappropriate.

“We should call a truce,” he said.

“Are we at war?”

He chuckled. “You always have an answer, don’t you? No, we’re not at war. At least, I don’t want to be. We should try being friends since our best friends are married to each other.”

“That would be boring, wouldn’t it, if we got along?”

“So you like fighting with me, is that it?” His eyes mirrored the question. They stood out against his swarthy skin, and she wondered how she’d never noticed how attractive they were before. Light brown. No flecks of green or other colors, only a pure, antiqued gold like a strong whiskey.

Did she like arguing with him? Maybe she did. Their sparring matches always left her buzzing with energy afterward, and after the meeting with her grandmother, she welcomed the interaction.

“Even if I do,” she said, “you like it way more than I do. You’re always the one who gets the fights started, like you did a minute ago.”

“Only because you need it.”

“Need it?” Talia cocked an eyebrow. “You have to explain what you mean.”

“You’re one of those women who can get out of hand, so I have to keep you grounded. You have a…
cómo se dice
? Oh, I remember.” He snapped his fingers. “You have a Napoleon complex.”

She shot him her
Are-you-for-real?
look. “I don’t think so.”

“Yes, you do. It’s because you’re so short.” He sliced his hand horizontally from his nose over the top of her head. “See?”

Talia stood up straighter, as if she could grow taller by sheer will power. “I do not have a Napoleon complex, and anyway, I’m pretty sure that only applies to men.”

He looked amused. “No, I’m sure the complex applies to women, too. I have a perfect example standing right in front of me. How’s the weather down there?”

She cut her eyes at him and continued searching for food.

“No response? I’m so disappointed,” he said.

“I’m ignoring you for the rest of the day.”

“This is a first. I silenced Talia Jackson all by myself, and I didn’t need to tape her mouth. I should make an announcement.” He picked up a piece of baked chicken with his hand.

“
There are tongs
.” Talia held up a set. “What are you, a barbarian?”

“We called a truce, remember?” He bit into the chicken and winked.

She stared at him for a moment and then shook her head, laughing. He was so ridiculous. How freeing it must be to do as you please and not worry about what others think.

She noted the expression on Tomas’s face but couldn’t decipher the look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He took another bite of chicken and finished chewing before he answered her question. He grinned. “You should smile more.”