Taste of Lacey (11 page)

“You’re jealous.”

Kyle laughed out loud. Once again, she was amazed at how a smile or laugh transformed his features. Like their father, he was a handsome man, but when his eyes squinted and with his white, even teeth on display, he was almost pretty. Over the years, those looks, business acumen, and charm by the bucket had put the world at his fingertips. Plenty of black men had a significant presence in Atlanta’s business community in one area or another, but Kyle was one of the few who dominated on every level. From closing impossible deals to having the adoration of women of all ages, he was multitalented and so arrogant he expected no less than to win every battle.

“Girl, you are really losing it.”

“Oh, my mind is working just fine. Your supposed ‘outrage’ has nothing to do with me. Rye is your ‘homey,’ your ‘boy.’ He was the one who had your back in whatever devilment you chose to pursue. Logan is cool, but Rye is your brother. Who will you go out with, do anything you’re big enough to do with? Talk to about females and their…anatomy? You did those things with Rye and you’re upset because the female anatomy he’s looking at now is mine.”

“First, that’s nasty. Second, along with a culinary arts degree, you got a psychotherapy degree too?”

“I don’t have to be a therapist to know you resent our relationship because you think you’ve lost your friend.”

“Relationship?” A harsh laugh erupted from him. He tapped his watch with two long fingers. “By my calculations, you’re already on borrowed time. Usually your boy would have gone through about twenty of you by now, cuz he gets thrown so much pu—er, women throw themselves at him all the time.”

She ignored the stab of pain his words inflicted and decided to hit back. “Well, isn’t that just the shark calling the lion a predator?”

“You’re damn right. Actually you’re right on two other points too. When you said I’m judging my so-called best friend because he and I are so much alike, you hit the nail on the head. He’ll soon grow tired of the monotony of one woman, and the next even more exotic set of legs will catch his eye. Then he’ll move on, simply because he can, just like me. And trust me, there is no shortage of women waiting to have their turn with him. I have lost a friend. He crossed a line, and now I can’t trust his ass. Who’s next? Lisa? Monica?”

Lacey overlapped her arms in front of her chest, not intimidated in the least by her six-foot-plus older brother. “So when’s the wedding?”

He took a step back. “What wedding?”

“Your wedding. Haven’t you set the date? Surely you’re going to marry whichever woman you’re sleeping with right now.”

His expression was so bewildered it would be funny if she weren’t so angry.

“What are you talking about? You know I’m not getting married.” He scowled as if the very idea left a foul taste in his mouth.

“If you’re not going to marry your flavor of the week, then you’re moving on to the next one in line, right? If you’re doing what you’re accusing Rye of, and you think he’s just using me, what does it say about you?”

The muscle in his jaw ticked as he absorbed her words; he didn’t move otherwise. Her point was made.

“But you’re my sister.”

She sighed. She supposed it would never occur to him that more than likely his current bedmate was also somebody’s sister. “Yes, I am, and I love you for wanting to protect me, but it’s wasted in this case. All I need is for you to be my brother. And treat me and your best friend with respect.”

“I’m done talking about it, Elly,” he said, reverting to his childhood name for her. “I love you, but if you think I’m going to encourage you to buy a ticket on this train wreck you’re calling a relationship, you’re wrong.”

So this was what abandonment felt like. She thought she’d never used the word in association with Kyle. A physical blow had to hurt less than the gaping wound he’d inflicted. “What about you and me? Am I going to lose my brother’s friendship because you don’t agree with my choice to see Rye?”

“I’m not going anywhere. In fact, when your turn with him is over, I’ll be right there to help you pick up the pieces,” he muttered, then stalked out of the kitchen.

Angry and hurt at the same time, she headed out and almost ran into Monica in the corridor leading to the reception area.

“Is everything okay? I was told some action just took place,” Monica said, frowning.

Lacey heaved a huge sigh. “Thank goodness. If the nosiest person in the metro area missed the commotion, we may be able to end this night with our reputation somewhat intact.”

Monica pressed her lips into a straight line. “I’m gonna let you get away with one shot because I know your brother and your man are working your nerves, but only one,” she finished and then gave a fake smile. “Anyway, I’ll make sure a driver takes Kyle’s drunk ass home, and Rye is wearing a hole through the floor in the lobby. Amanda and I can handle things here for the rest of the night. Go home and take care of your man.”

Lacey looked at her slight, mighty, thoughtful, nosy, wonderful cousin in amazement. Then she reached down and hugged her. “Thank you, Monica,” she said before breaking into a fast walk down the hallway that led to Rye. Hands in his pockets, he paced back and forth. He stood at attention when she came through the door. His chiseled jaw tightened, and his gaze held hers steadily. The sight of him revived all the issues Kyle threw in her face, making questions leap into her mind.
Is my brother right? Are you going to hurt me? Am I just one in a long line of waiting females?

She didn’t voice her fears. Instead, she stepped to him and placed her hand above his heart. “Can we please just go home?”

* * * *

After a subdued return trip and a shared but functional shower, Lacey lay between her luxurious cotton sheets, staring up at the ceiling. For the very first time, there was space between her and Rye in bed.

“I didn’t want it to come to this.” Rye uttered his first words since leaving the party.

“By ‘this,’ do you mean a blowup with Kyle and his childish behavior?”

“Yes, but he’s your brother and you value his opinion.”

“You grew up with him, you were college roommates, and you’ve been friends forever. He knows you better than anyone else does.”

“True, for the most part.”

“He’s seen you doing…things…no one else has. With a lot of people.”

“Women, Lacey. Women, not people,” Rye interjected, his voice dry.

Lacey rolled her eyes. “A lot of
women
.”

“We all have a past.”

“It’s more likely I’ll be confronted by your past than you will by mine.”

“We’ll just have to deal with it.”

“How are you going to deal with an irate best friend? He thinks you’ve violated some kind of man code I can’t claim to understand.”

“Am I supposed to stay away from you because he’s upset? Fuck no.”

“I don’t want problems between you and him. I’d never forgive myself.”

“Having you away from me is not an option,” Rye said, his voice sure. “Not happening.”

Lacey sighed and turned her head toward him. “Don’t I get a say in the situation?”

“Do you want different from what I’m saying?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not sure how I feel about someone telling me what to do.”

“Is Kyle’s attitude going to come between us?”

Really?
He thought her brother was their biggest problem? “Here’s the thing. There isn’t an ‘us.’ We’re just a one-night stand that’s lasted for months. It’s none of Kyle’s business, but he’s right.”

“Damn it. Then it stops right here, right now.”

A wave of panic hit Lacey. Was he ending “it”? She tried to picture herself without him, and the image was unbearable. A hard knot formed in her throat, and her heart pounded as she fought to contain her emotions. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her lose control.

In a move that could only be accomplished by someone with his physical strength, Rye lifted her clear off the bed and arranged her on top of him. Breast to chest, face-to-face. “I need to know you’re going to be with me, waiting when I get home. You won’t let my best friend scare you away.”

A bubble of joy formed in her chest and ballooned until it cushioned her heart, bruised by her runaway emotions. Her brother’s opinion affected her so much because he knew Rye better than anyone Kyle claimed it would never work, but the possibility of her and Rye having something real was almost too much to hope for. “I thought you said it ends.”

Rye ran his finger over her cheek. “The confusion ends. You’ve mentioned it, and Kyle said it tonight. I’m tired of hearing what we have described as something shallow. Hell, your father had less of a problem with us than Kyle does. Lacey Marie Bishop, in case you didn’t know it, we are in a relationship. We are a couple. For lack of a better word, you are my girlfriend.”

A slow smile graced Lacey’s lips as she basked in Rye’s words. She could shout she was so relieved. “Aren’t we a little old for such juvenile terminology?”

“Maybe.” His laugh was husky as he turned them onto their sides, then stroked her hip. “Will you be my girl?”

Lacey’s center flooded with moisture, and her nipples beaded. His words instantly turned her on. “Will you expect me to put out right away?”

“Damn straight,” he growled before claiming her mouth.

Chapter Eleven

Lacey bowed her head as her grandmother said the blessing. Lacey, Lisa, Kyle, nor any of their cousins were allowed to use “Grandma,” so they called her Katie. While Katie’s words flowed like the mighty Mississippi, Lacey asked for understanding after spending the morning in bed over and under Rye instead of in church kneeling at the altar. There was no point in asking forgiveness for the decadent deeds performed, as more than likely they would be repeated. She felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Rye asleep to come here, but it couldn’t be avoided. After last night, she just wasn’t up for more drama.

Katie’s prayer ended, and Lacey opened her eyes, perusing the faces of the guests occupying the lunch table. Lacey glanced over at Kyle. He looked like he could barf with the slightest provocation.
Good
. It served him right for acting a damn fool at Logan’s birthday party. She’d get her chance to lay into him, but she was patient. Plus she needed all the strength she could muster to survive a confrontation with her mother. They hadn’t talked, but her mother’s jerky movements and lined forehead revealed she knew about Lacey and Rye and wasn’t happy. Oh, a confrontation was coming, no doubt. It was just a matter of clearing the extended family out of the way first. Her mother didn’t like Bishops’ laundry to be aired in public, and if it was, she made sure it wasn’t dirty.

Lacey was relieved by the light conversation accompanying her mother’s Italian-themed meal. Bruschetta, a colorful salad with homemade Italian dressing, flavorful lasagna, succulent lamb chops, a garden-vegetable medley, and garlic bread floated around the table. Lacey’s tiramisu was making its rounds when the doorbell rang. John Bishop excused himself to answer the summons, and to Lacey’s shock, in strutted Rye, her boyfriend she’d left asleep in bed after hours of hot sex. He took the empty seat beside Lacey, and then placed his arm over the back of her chair. He caressed her shoulder, sending shivers of arousal down her spine.

What was he doing here? Several emotions flooded her system: embarrassment for not having invited him, followed by pride because he was there. Amazingly, she was neither anxious nor self-conscious Rye was beside her, his presence and intimate touches boldly proclaiming their new couple status to her entire family.

The flow of conversation didn’t so much stop as it did slow down as eyes widened and jaws dropped. Her facial expression should answer her extended family’s unspoken questions. Yes, she and Rye were “together,” and no, her being with a white man was not up for discussion. No doubt her aunt and cousins would have plenty to say about her crossing the fence, but she didn’t care. Right now her man was her only concern, and he appeared to be his usual laid-back self. If he was bothered by last night’s commotion, her quick getaway today, or her family gawking at him, it was hard to tell. Making himself right at home, he reached for the tiramisu to fill the platinum-rimmed dessert plate she handed him. As he piled on a hefty portion, she sneaked a glance around the table and noticed Katie studying Rye with a curious expression while Lena frowned and pursed her lips.

Couldn’t be good.

“Good afternoon, Rye,” Lena Bishop said in a voice audible over the various conversations taking place around the table. A brittle smile was pasted on her normally animated brown face. “I understand that after years of being a guest in my home, you’ve come to know my daughter in the biblical sense.”

Lacey wished right then and there for the power to disappear. Why the hell did her mother have to say this at Sunday lunch? Not only was her grandmother there, but so was Monica and mother, Maddie, Katie’s brother Nate, and his daughter, Ruth. Ruth’s son Charles and three of his children were sitting at a second table in the corner. Now they all knew her business.

At the head of the table, directly facing her mother, her father’s chestnut face tightened. Lacey couldn’t help but tense too. Beside her, Rye shifted to sit ramrod straight in the plush dining chair. She closed her eyes with relief when he moved his hand to clasp hers in her lap.

“I’m getting to know your adult daughter in
every
way, Mrs. Bishop, and I appreciate your blessing as we explore our new relationship.”

Rye’s tone, though measured, was still respectful. Just one aggressive word would have been enough to set her mother off. Lacey turned in her seat and placed the heel of her hand on Rye’s hard chest, her first instinct to lend him support, even when the threat came from her mother. Lacey braced for the barrage to spill, but the next sound she heard was her father’s voice.

“Rye, you and Lacey already have our blessing,” her father said, his voice icy and firm. He focused his stern look on Lacey’s mother. “There was no need to bring this to our attention again.”

Her mother’s cheeks and neck flushed a dark red. She dropped her napkin on the table and then pushed her chair back. Apparently she’d decided it was best not to tangle with her husband. “Well, then, ladies. Let’s take care of the kitchen while the guys set up for the football game. Then we’ll join them outside.”