Read Richmond-Banks Brothers 1: A Hopeless Place (BWWM Interracial Romance) Online
Authors: Coco Jordan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Women's Fiction
AMARA
The chirping of birds and the hint of a sunrise peeking in through the window shades woke me early the next morning. I’d fallen asleep clutching my phone, still dressed in my clothes from yesterday. I must’ve been damn tired.
I checked my texts. Not a single one from Bennett. He’d left me alone for the night, and I was quite positive he knew exactly why I’d scrambled out of his room so quickly while he was having dinner. I hoped he wasn’t mad at me, but I couldn’t help the way I felt. I just wished he could understand.
I responded to a message from Cherish about going out again soon and crawled out from the thick covers and headed to my bathroom to get ready before whipping up his breakfast for the morning.
“Good morning,” I whispered as I pushed his door open a short while later, my arms full with his breakfast tray.
Bennett rolled over at the sound of my voice. His mussed, dark hair was pushed to the side, the sign of a good night’s sleep. His jaw, which now looked stronger than ever as his face was filling out, was relaxed and unclenched. Maybe he wasn’t mad at me, after all?
I set the tray down on his table and headed over toward him as I started popping open his pill bottles and preparing his nebulizer. He raked his hands, which were also noticeably filled out, through his thick head of hair as he watched me.
“Morning,” he sighed. An unusual smile crossed his face.
“You’re happy this morning, handsome,” I teased. I cringed inwardly for calling him that. I didn’t’ want him to get the wrong idea. It just came out. I meant it, but I shouldn’t have said it. It was unprofessional of me.
Bennett placed one foot on the floor, followed by the other, and braced himself. He steadily climbed out of bed and inched his way toward the table by the window.
“Scrambled eggs, oatmeal, and toast,” I said. “Thought I’d lay off the grease for a bit.”
He took his seat and I drew back the curtains, revealing a picturesque view of the English garden that was beginning to green and bud below. I pulled up a chair next to him and stared out the window. Growing up, I always tried to imagine what it would’ve been like to live in a mansion. I pretended my bedroom was in a tower and I had to look out the window below as I waited to be rescued. Bennett’s room was fit for a princess, or a prince. He was certainly Ingrid’s prince, kept locked and hidden away.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Bennett asked, disrupting my little daydream.
“Nothing important,” I said, shaking my head.
“You look really pretty,” he said, “when the sun hits your face like that.”
“Oh, stop.” I rolled my eyes, unable to hide the grin that took over my face. It was nice to hear it, even if it was inappropriate.
In another world, maybe he and I could’ve entertained the possibility of being together. He was handsome and almost regal, old-fashioned and otherworldly, the kind of guy who would fight for the woman he loved the way a man was supposed to fight. Anymore, Bennett hardly seemed sick, and in my opinion, he didn’t need my help at all. He was perfectly capable of living independently if he wanted to, but I supposed this was all he’d ever known.
“What do you want to do today?” I asked as I stood up and began straightening up his nightstand.
“I kind of want to get out of the house today,” he answered. “Let’s do something different. Want to take my dad’s Jag out for a spin?”
“Seriously?” I scoffed. “Your parents would kill me if they caught us. They’d fire me for sure. No questions asked.”
“Ha!” Bennett laughed. “They’re halfway across the country right now. How would they ever know?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Nosy neighbors? One of the staff?”
“I’ll take care of the staff, and don’t worry about the neighbors,” he assured me. “They don’t know that you’re not allowed to drive it. Let’s go, Amara. Let’s just get in the car and go.”
Bennett’s normally buttoned-up façade was fading, and in its place was a young man trying his best to open up and embrace the life he’d been given. It was hard to argue with him when he was trying so damn hard to do what I’d told him to do.
“Fine,” I said, a rush of excitement stealing the moment. “You talked me into it.”
I wanted to hug him for trying. For listening to me. For coming out of his shell.
“Let’s not make a big deal of this,” he said, likely sensing my excitement.
We made our way down the stairs, Bennett requiring no assistance whatsoever, and headed to the underground garage, which was down a long corridor and past several mysterious basement doors. Bennett pressed a code into a numbered box on the wall and unlocked the door. Shining under several spotlights was a fleet of at least six rare, vintage, and luxury vehicles.
“Who needs this many cars?” I asked, taking in the beauty and magnificence before me.
“My father,” Bennett said dryly. “There it is.”
He pointed to a shiny, chromed-out onyx Jaguar convertible parked in the corner. Sandwiched between a vintage Porsche 911 and a Model T Ford, it was begging to be started up, begging for us to take it out of that stuffy underground garage and out onto the open road.
“I’m really nervous to drive this thing,” I said, imagining the power and roar of the engine. Even as it sat there all quiet and pretty, that thing screamed power.
“Get over it,” he said as he grabbed the keys from a box on the wall. “We’re getting out of here.”
I climbed into the driver’s seat and slid onto the buttery smooth leather. I folded my sweaty palms around the leather-wrapped steering wheel and familiarized myself with the dashboard. The car looked like it had only been driven a handful of times.
I sunk down into the soft driver’s seat and ran my fingers along the wood grain dash before bringing my hand down and resting it on the chrome shifter knob. “This is the nicest car I’ve ever been in in my entire life, Bennett.”
He laughed, and there was a sort of nervous excitement about him, like this was his first real taste of rebellion. “You going to start it, or what?”
Inserting the key into the ignition, I took a deep breath and pressed it forward. The engine began to purr softly, waiting patiently for me to shift into drive. Bennett reached over and pressed a button, and the top came down and folded behind us. The weather was calling for an unusually warm March day, which wasn’t all that atypical for Kansas.
As I shifted the car into gear, Bennett pressed the garage door remote and we were on our way, heading around from the back of the house and exiting via the pristine circle drive.
“This thing is amazing,” I said to Bennett, a smile across my face as we zoomed down the street. He flashed a reserved smile in return as he fished around in the glove box and slipped on a pair of Ray-Ban aviators. They must’ve been his dad’s, but he wore them well, as if they were better suited for him.
“Here,” he said, handing me a pair of driving gloves. “You need the full experience.”
I slipped them on as soon as we pulled up to a stop sign. Never in a million years did I think I’d ever be wearing driving gloves and behind the wheel of such a fancy car.
“Can I teach you how to drive today?” I asked.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said, immediately shooting me down. “I don’t have a license.”
“I thought we were living a little today,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.
“Fine,” he said with an eye roll. That was the Bennett I knew. “Just make sure it’s in a remote area.”
“We’re going to Green Hill Park,” I told him. “It’s on the outskirts of town. There’s a lake and a trail and a grassy area. It’s Monday morning, so we should have the whole place to ourselves.”
We zipped around town for a bit in the Jaguar, the tepid breeze whipping my hair all around. I thought about tying it back but changed my mind. If I were with Spencer, I’d care about my hair looking crazy, but I knew those types of things didn’t matter to Bennett.
After a bit of joy riding, I turned down an access road and took a left, bringing us to Green Hill Park. Just as I expected, the place was completely vacant. We had the whole thing to ourselves.
“Time to switch,” I told him, gently placing the car in park.
He swallowed, staring ahead, as if he were slightly nervous.
“You’re not chickening out, are you?” I teased. “You’re twenty-four. Time to learn how to drive.”
“I’m well aware of my age,” he snipped.
“Come on. You’re driving,” I said, climbing out and running to the passenger side.
We switched places, with Bennett gripping the steering wheel and staring straight ahead.
“Adjust your mirrors,” I said. “Seatbelt. Right foot on the brake. Shift into drive. Gently press on the gas pedal.”
He followed my instructions to the letter as he concentrated on the gravel parking lot in front of us. His eyes never averted once as he gently placed the car in motion. He was a natural.
“You’re doing great,” I said. “Now, turn your wheel hard to the right so we can turn around and go out to the main road. Put your left blinker on. Look both ways for traffic. If it’s clear to go, then turn your wheel left and press the gas.”
Again, he followed my directions to the letter.
“See? You’re so good at this,” I said, sitting back and relaxing a bit. “Give it a little more gas. The speed limit is forty-five here.”
He sped up, and within seconds, we were cruising down the highway with nothing but earth, wind, and warm sunshine around us.
“I think I kind of like this,” he said, turning to me with his lips parted into a reserved smile. He looked so damn handsome like that, sitting up straight behind the wheel of a beautiful car with the wind rustling his hair and his aviators reflecting the sunlight from above. He didn’t look sick at all. He looked so damn handsome. I caught my heart beating fast as my mind wandered for a split second, and then I jerked my head. I had to stop looking at him like that. As his nurse, it wasn’t appropriate.
I leaned back, stretching my face toward the sky and letting the warmth of the sun above wash over me.
BENNETT
If someone had told me a month ago I’d be gliding along the highway in my dad’s most prized car with a pretty girl by my side, I’d have never believed them. I was living a dream. This wasn’t real. There was no way it could possibly be real.
From the corner of my eye, I watched as Amara tossed her head back, her dark hair blowing like crazy and whipping around her face. She looked happy, carefree. And she trusted me. I’d never driven before, and yet she trusted me with her life, her safety.
“Should we head back toward the park?” she asked a few minutes later, unintentionally ruining one of the greatest moments of my entire life. “Come to a gentle stop up ahead in that driveway, put it in reverse, back out, then put it in drive and head back to the park.”
As I followed her directions, I saw her glance down at her phone in her lap, and then to my surprise, she hit the ignore button. A minute later her phone went off again, and again she ignored it. After a third time, she seemed flustered.
“I’m sorry. It’s my friend, Cherish,” she said, annoyed. “She keeps calling. I have to take this.”
“It’s fine,” I said, focusing on the road ahead where my turn was coming up.
“What’s wrong?” Amara asked. “Did something happen?”
Silence.
“What?” Amara asked. I hadn’t the slightest idea about what was being said, but from the sound of Amara’s voice and the way her shoulders fell as if her entire world had just been deflated was like a punch to the gut.
“Of course I want you to tell me,” she said, her voice faltering. “No. No, there’s no way. That can’t be.”
I turned to look at her face. She was biting her nails as she listened to whatever it was Cherish was telling her. Her watering eyes and pained expression told me all I needed to know. That jackass had hurt her again.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I whispered. She swatted me again.
“Why the fuck would he try to get back with me, then?” she yelled into the phone. “That’s so fucked up, so fucked up.”
She wiped away the tears that spilled down her cheek and looked over at me, almost looking at me differently for a brief moment. I drove slow and carefully, pulling us back toward the park parking lot.
“You know what, Cherish?” she said, sitting up. “I’m glad you told me this. I needed a reason to move on from him. I needed a reason to be done. I’m tired of being strung along.”
Cherish replied, though I couldn’t make out what she said.
“No, I’m fine,” Amara insisted, glancing over at me. “Are we still going out this weekend? Okay. I’ll see you Friday.”
She hung up her phone and tossed it into her purse before wiping the rest of her tears from her cheek and brushing her hair back off her face.
“Would I be a total jerk if I said I told you so?” I said gently. I so badly wanted to remind her how right I was about him. She should’ve listened to me.
She turned her face away, clearly not in the mood.
“Hey,” I said, reaching over and tugging on her arm. I pulled into a parking spot and parked the car. I held onto her arm and she placed her hand over mine as she cried into the crook of her other elbow. I took off my seatbelt and turned toward her. “Amara…”
She turned to face me, her cheeks ruddy and her eyes swollen. She still looked like a million bucks, though; a million sad, salty, beautiful bucks.
“I think you’re pretty amazing,” I said in an attempt to try to lessen her pain. “Screw anyone who’s too dumb to realize that.”
“He has a girlfriend back at Vanderbilt,” she said, wiping the tears that kept spilling down her cheeks. “I should’ve known.”
She leaned in and buried her head on my shoulder, breathing deep and letting it all soak in and wash over her. My heart thumped loud in my chest as I held her close, and I was quite sure she could feel it. I said nothing as I held her, the space around us filled by the faint hum of the car engine.
“If you were mine, I’d never let you go,” I said softly. I didn’t mean to say those words out loud, but I was desperate to stop her pain as she sobbed into my chest.
“I just can’t believe he’d try to get back with me when he already has a girlfriend,” she cried. “Apparently, they’ve been together a couple years. Why would he do that, Bennett? Why would he give me that hope?”
“He’s selfish,” Bennett said. “You’re a sweet girl, Amara. Some people take advantage of that.”
I readjusted my arm around her and pulled her in close again. I liked holding her. I was never really a touchy-feely person, but I liked touching her. It was the only thing that felt natural.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” I said into her ear. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”
She sat up and leaned away, looking me straight in my eyes. “You’re just trying to make me feel better, but thanks.”
“I mean it,” I said as I reached over and stroked my hand against her soft cheek. “You’ve changed my life, Amara. You’ve given me a reason to live. I’ve never really had that before.”
She looked down at our hands, which had somehow managed to become intertwined, and gently pulled them apart. “We should probably head back.”
She climbed out of the car and we switched sides. She said nothing as we headed back to the mansion.