Pastor Needs a Boo (43 page)

Marsha looked at Denzelle and tried to talk to him with her eyes, saying, Are you kidding me? He looked back and talked with his eyes, saying, Do I look like I'm kidding you?

“Denzelle,” Marsha began, in a very formal and proper, Miss Priss voice, “I wouldn't know about your touch because you haven't touched me.”

He slid his hand down her arm and said, “I'm touching you now. So is it the right touch?”

“It's a … a … good touch,” she replied, with a lot of Priss in her voice.

“I see,” Denzelle said, and advanced on Marsha, relieved that Obadiah and Lena knew when to leave. As soon as the door to his office closed, he grabbed her close and let his new wife feel the entire length of his body.

“So, you think I'm touchin' you right now?”

Marsha coughed and struggled to maintain her composure. She said, “I'd say that you are doing a very good job of, you know, touching me, Denzelle.”

“I just bet I am, Baby,” he whispered in her ear, right before kissing it. Denzelle nibbled down Marsha's ear to her neck and said, “I want you, and if you don't get your prissy self out of this office with me, I'm going to have you on this desk.”

Marsha said, “Where's my bag?” pushed past her husband, and headed toward the door.

 

Chapter Thirty-four

“Where are D and Miss Marsha?” Charles asked.

“On their way to D's house,” Obadiah said.

“But what about the ballots and the rest of the program?” Keisha asked. “Don't you think they need to be here? I'm sure they are going to win this contest.”

“Well, then,” Lena began, with her face all lit up. “I think you all better choose the runner-up couple and tell everybody that the pastor didn't expect to win and wanted the prize to go to that couple.”

“What are we supposed to say about the pastor not being here?” Veronica asked her. “This is, after all, an event to help him get elected bishop. It has gone so well. He needs to be here to say something.”

“I'll handle the crowd,” Obadiah said. “We'll tell them there was an unexpected emergency.”

“And what would that be?” Charles asked. “I mean, we want the unedited version of this, Obie.”

“Denzelle just married Marsha in his office.”

The whole
Dancing with the Stars
program team was so stunned, they couldn't even move. No one knew what to say. In fact, what could they say to this kind of news?

“Did they even have a license?” Bay Bowser asked. “I mean, I didn't get the impression that they were planning to tie the knot after a dance number. I knew they were crazy about each other. But the pastor acted like he was scared to take Marsha out for a glass of juice, let alone up and marry her.”

“They are getting the license tomorrow,” Obadiah replied evenly. He knew he was going to have to do a little fancy footwork to explain this to this crowd.

“So, this means what?” Veronica asked. “'Cause this doesn't sound like a real marriage to me.”

“Why not?” Obadiah asked her.

“Well, there wasn't a wedding or an engagement or an announcement or even a text message saying, ‘Y'all come on back to the pastor's office 'cause we are getting married.' Know what I'm sayin'?”

Obadiah was cracking up. Veronica had a point. He said, “Look, this didn't have anything to do with how Denzelle or Marsha may have wanted this thing to go down. They were very skeptical about doing it that way. But the Lord laid it on my heart, and Lena's heart, and He touched Marsha's heart. Most importantly, He got through to Denzelle's heart. And…”

“Baby, tell them about the ring,” Lena interjected.

“What ring?” Keisha and Veronica asked in unison.

Obadiah rolled his eyes upward and let out that hah-hah laugh that was so uniquely his.

“The ring Denzelle had been carrying around on him for a while. Seems like your pastor knew Marsha was the one long before he was able to 'fess up to anybody else, sometimes, even to himself.”

“All I wanna know is what the ring looks like,” Dayeesha said. She was the jewelry expert and could tell if a ring was quality simply by listening to the description.

“Platinum band, one inch in width, six quarter-carat-size sapphires in blue, pink, and lavender. The sapphires were surrounded by gorgeous diamond chips that sparkled when any kind of light hit them,” Lena said.

“Prisms of color?” Dayeesha asked, ignoring Metro shaking his head for her to stop.

“Absolutely,” Lena told her. “Girl, this is Denzelle Flowers. You know he had that ring custom-made and spared no cost. That boy even had the ring in the right size for Marsha's little bitty fingers.”

“Did they sign a prenup?” Charles asked. His frat had some deep pockets.

“Against Marsha Metcalf?” Obadiah said.

Charles sighed and nodded in concession.

“You have a point, Obadiah. Denzelle will be fine. Plus, D survived Tatiana, so I know he'll be fine with this one.”

“This one?” Veronica asked. “What brought on calling…?”

Charles gave Veronica a look that clearly said, “HUSH.”

Veronica was about to open her mouth but closed it fast when Tatiana, who had returned to the gym, came over to where they were standing and asked, “Where is my husband?”

“Todd is right over there looking real pissed, Tatiana,” Dayeesha said. She curled up her lips when Tatiana rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn't go there, Girl,” Dayeesha cautioned.

“And what if I do?” Tatiana retorted, obviously feeling exceptionally bold and brave.

“Then I will mop this floor up with your triflin' behind, ho.”

“Baby, don't go there. We're at church,” Metro said.

“Metro, I didn't start this. But I will end it. So if you don't want this skeezer to get her feelings hurt and her butt kicked, you betta get this ho out of my face, and right now.”

Metro turned to Tatiana and said, “You better get to steppin' if you want your weave to stay in your head.”

“You betta watch yourself, ghetto rat,” Tatiana shot at Dayeesha.

“I'll be waiting on you, Tatiana. In fact, we can settle this on the parking lot this evening. Come to think of it, let's go out there right now. I'm sick of your stuck-up behind walking round here like you the queen of Ethiopia, and you ain't no better than a two-dollar crack ho.

“So, you betta watch your mouth when you talk to me—looking like you got some custom-made knee pads in your purse.”

At that point Charles hollered with laughter. He'd never heard anybody talk to Tatiana Hill Flowers Townsend like that and get away with it. He felt kind of bad that his frat wasn't here to enjoy the show. Witnessing Dayeesha Mitchell put Tatiana in her place would have made a sweet wedding present for Denzelle.

Tatiana walked away. They did not know who they were messing with. She had just come back from finding someone who could make up a forensic-safe poison to take out Camille Franklin.

And she wasn't the only person who was going to get it. The Board of Bishops's meeting was being held at the Raleigh Hilton this year. And in just two days a vote would be cast that would make her ex-husband think twice about hooking up with that little Marsha Brady–acting woman. Every time Tatiana saw Marsha Metcalf she wanted to find a football and throw it right at her nose.

“You know that girl is crazy, right?” Bay said. “She acts like somebody who jumped right out of a Lifetime Network movie.”

“Yeah, she does,” Veronica said, wondering why she'd never noticed it before. If Camille Franklin were not so hateful, she would have been inclined to tell the girl to watch her back. But Veronica knew that if she even tried to speak to Camille, the woman would snub her and be downright hateful acting. She didn't know what it was with women like that—just mean.

 

Chapter Thirty-five

Denzelle eased that smooth-riding black Audi into his driveway. He turned off the engine and was about to get out of the car when he saw that he had a text from Charles Robinson.

Veronica will drop off some things for Marsha tomorrow. Keisha and Bay will make sure everything's okay with her car. Congrads, Frat. You got a good woman.

“Everything alright, Denzelle?” Marsha asked. She was overjoyed, excited, overwhelmed, and downright scared. They had never even been out for a cup of coffee, and now she was going to this man's, no, her husband's house. It had felt so right in the office. Now Marsha wondered if she had experienced a momentary lapse in her sanity.

“Everything's fine. That was Charles. Veronica will bring some things by for you in the morning.”

“Wow. This is so fast, unexpected, and a bit overwhelming. I haven't even thought about where we will live.”

Denzelle put his hand over his wife's. He knew she was scared. Heck, he was scared himself. But he knew that poor Marsha was petrified.

“Baby, it is going to be just fine. Don't overthink this. Be prayerful. Talk to me. Be honest. And trust God. He is the one who led us to do it this way. We have to trust Him and know that all is well. If God led us to get married like this, He had a reason, and it is for our ultimate good.”

She sighed with relief. This was a good moment to be with a man who knew the Lord and loved the Lord and listened when God said, “I want to talk to you, Son.”

Marsha looked relieved, and then petrified again. It occurred to her that she was going to “sleep with” Denzelle Flowers. After all of these years of wondering what he was like behind closed doors, now she was going to find out, and the girl was scared. What was wrong with her? She had a grown son and had been through a lot. Why was she scared of something like this?

Denzelle had gotten out of the car and was walking around to Marsha's side. He could tell from the way she was sitting, like she was waiting on a cop to give her a ticket, that the girl was scared to get of the car and go in the house with him.

“You scared, Baby?”

“Ohh, no, I'm just fine, Denzelle. I'm not scared. What do I have to be afraid of? You are my husband, and you love me, and you are going to take good care of me, and you are going to help me out of the car, and we are going to walk in your house, and you are going to turn on the lights, and we are going to walk on down through your lovely home and to your bedroom, and we are going to turn on that light, and you are going to say…”

“STOP!!!!! Baby, it's okay to be afraid. But it's not okay to ramble on like you forgot to chew on some kaopectate for your mouth. Come on and get out of the car.”

He held out his hand and helped Marsha out. They held hands all the way into the house. Marsha could not believe how wonderful and comforting Denzelle's hand felt. She felt the touch of his hand all the way down in her heart.

Denzelle walked Marsha to the bedroom. No use making any stops in any other room in the house. He wanted to be in the bedroom with his wife. Wife. It seemed so natural to be walking in this house with Marsha as his wife. He would have never figured out how it would feel to have a wife—a true wife. But this feeling was so wonderful and rich and lush, Denzelle wondered what took him so long to get the courage to take Marsha to his heart as his wife.

Marsha looked around Denzelle's bedroom. It was a soothing Mediterranean blue and white. The bed was sleek and modern, like it had come from a store like IKEA. Queen-size and ebony wood, with a matching ebony wood dresser, a chest of drawers, and a wardrobe.

There was a skylight that gave a great view of the stars twinkling in a jet-black-blue sky. The windows were long, with white wooden blinds, and were draped by Mediterranean blue and white–striped cotton curtains that had tiny crimson stars on them. The curtains matched the comforter, which had crimson and blue accent pillows on it.

Marsha's feet were tired from all of that dancing, and she longed to run the soles of her feet across that inviting, dark wood floor. She wanted to sit down on the bed so badly but didn't know if that was the proper thing to do. So she opted for the cozy, crimson, ultrasuede chair resting against the wall.

“You like this room, Honey?” Denzelle asked.

“Yes, a lot,” she said in a quiet voice. Marsha wasn't sure what to do with her new husband. New husband. It seemed so strange and so natural at the same time. Now what?

Denzelle walked over to the chair, reached down, and removed Marsha's shoes. Her feet were so small and dainty. He placed one foot in both of his hands and began to rub deep in the arch. He could tell they were sore and achy by the way Marsha winced when he pressed his fingers in the arch in her foot.

“Marsha, I'm not trying to hurt you. Sit back and relax and let me rub these aches out.”

She sat back in the chair and tried to relax. It felt good, and just a tad weird, for Denzelle to rub her feet. She wished she could close her eyes and enjoy this man rubbing out the kinks in her feet. But that was too uncomfortable. Marsha couldn't remember ever having her feet massaged by the man in her life.

Denzelle didn't want Marsha to be this nervous with him. It had never occurred to him that she would be scared to cross that line with him. He knew she loved him. He knew she wanted him. But he didn't know how to get his new bride comfortably from point A to point B.

Denzelle stopped rubbing Marsha's foot. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up out of the chair, guiding her to his bathroom.

Marsha's eyes lit up. Denzelle's bathroom looked like a fancy spa. It had black, blue, and white tile on the floor, a black, blue, and white custom-made countertop, a navy tub, and black, blue, and white tile shower. The tub was deep and was made in the new walk-in design. The shower had about eight spouts and a place to sit. There was also a cedar wood sauna, as well as a bidet next to the toilet.

Denzelle walked over to the tub and started running the warm water. He opened the cedar wood linen closet and pulled out a bunch of towels and a soft, white terry-cloth robe.