IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN (14 page)

Ray waggled is finger back and forth. “Oh, hell no. Don’t’ drag me into this mess with your woman.” He leaned forward and whispered. “How do they do that?”

“Do what?”

“Know what you’re doing when they’re not even in the room.”

Big Eddie snorted. “All of ‘em, and I mean every dat blasted one of ‘em gots eyes in the back of their head. They ain’t nothin’ but a bunch of spies.” He cupped a hand to his ear. “Hush up. Thinks I hear one ‘em comin’ now.”

Ray bit the inside of his cheek so he didn’t laugh out loud as Big Eddie stashed the bottle and cup under the couch pillow at his back and sat straight as an arrow.

Big Eddie smiled brightly. “Hey there, Dot. How ya doin’?”

Dorothy sniffed the air and frowned. “Don’t how ya doin’ me, Big Eddie. I smell moonshine. Ya know Laney Olivia doesn’t allow drinking in her house.”

Big Eddie crossed one leg over the other. “Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout Dot?” He opened his arms wide. “Do you see any moonshine?”

Dorothy answered with a sigh. She touched Ray on the shoulder. “Raphael, dear, have you eaten today?”

Ray shook his head. “Thanks, Dot, but I’m not hungry right now.”

Dorothy glanced at her watch. “Hmmm, I could’ve sworn this was the time Laney Olivia told me to be sure you ate a light meal after your chemo. Perhaps I need to call her—”

“Hold up, Dot,” Ray said, and stood. “My bad. You know, I believe you’re right. Think I’ll head off to the kitchen and see what Ida Mae has on today’s lunch menu.”

~ ~ ~

During Raphael’s fourteen-day break from his last round of chemo, Laney lay prone on the sofa in the main salon. She read with interest a draft of the presentation for the music academy he’d given her shortly after his arrival at Olivia.  She glanced up and smiled as he walked toward her.

“Darling, I’ll be ready to do the presentation when the time comes.”

Eyes flared, Ray halted mid-stride. “You’re not doing the presentation, Red.”

She didn’t like his change in disposition or the sharpness in his voice, but answered in a reasonable tone. “Well, who will?”

“No one.”

“Why not?”

Ray swept his hands down the length of his body. “How the hell can I present the one thing that means the world to me, when I look like death warmed over? The presentation will have to wait until I land back on my feet.”

“What if your investors lose interest by then?”

“I’ll chance it.”

“Well, I won’t.”

“Drop it, Red!”

“I will not drop it.” Laney slowly rose to her feet. With the folder clutched in her hand, she walked with deliberate steps toward him. “Let me tell you something, Raphael Armand Baptiste.  If you think I’m going to stand by and let you give up on your dream, then think again.”

“You said the operative words,
my
dream.”

Laney studied his eyes. He wasn’t angry, but aggravated. “So you think your dreams aren’t important to me? Is that it, Raphael?”

Ray’s dilemma nearly tore him apart and there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her or appreciate her offer of assistance. What caused him the most concern was whether Laney could present with passion. This project meant too much to him to chance the possibility of a mistake. “Red
…
it’s just that—”

“You never answered my question, Raphael.”

They stood frozen, neither of them giving an inch. Finally, Ray stretched his arms out in front of him and closed his hands on her upper arm. “Let’s discuss this later,” he muttered, pulling her toward him.

Laney wrenched away. She lifted her chin and stared with incredulous anger. “You’re right. It’s
your
dream.” She whirled and walked out the room.

Ray swore loudly. Laney didn’t back away from anyone, not even him. Frustration boiled inside him and for a moment he started to go after her. By the time he reached the door, he stopped, then slammed his fist into the wall. “Daaayuuum.”

~ ~ ~

Later that evening, Alcee Baptiste walked out on the front porch and handed Ray a glass of ice tea. He studied his son for a moment, then sat next to him on the swing.

“What’s going on inside your head?”

Ray accepted the glass and clicked his with Alcee’s. “Just trying to think through a couple of things. That’s all.”

“All right. Let’s deal with the first one.”

It took a while, but Ray shared with his father the heated exchanged he’d had with Laney earlier in the afternoon. He shifted until his gaze was aligned with Alcee’s. “I want to ask Red to go with me and Les Croisés when we meet with the kids T. J. has lined up in a couple of weeks.” He shook his head. “But
…
” 

“But what?”

“After today, she might tell me to go to hell.”

Alcee
tsked
. “Knowing Laney the way I do, I think that’s the least of your concerns. Now let’s move on to the second issue.”

“We might have to push the meeting with the investors back.” Ray went on to explained how the original date would conflict with his recovery from the RPLND.

“It would be tough to postpone the meeting, huh?”

“Real tough,” Ray admitted. “I don’t want Les Croisés to come off looking shaky, like we can’t handle our business. You know me, Pop, I don’t do raggedy. Besides, once you book a date on an executive’ calendar then cancel, it’s hard to roll on their radar screen again, no matter what the circumstances are.”

“Well, you got two options, son. You can postpone the meeting or do what you should’ve done this afternoon.”

“I don’t know
…
” Ray drawled hesitantly.

“Can I give you an analogy to consider?”

“Shoot.”

“God forbid, you were rushed to the hospital in a life or death situation. Who do you want interacting on your behalf? Someone who sits there and doesn’t ask any questions about the treatment you’re receiving. Or do you want someone you trust who will dismantle the hospital brick by brick if they feel the hospital staff isn’t doing everything in their power to save you?”

Ray chuckled. “I hear what you’re saying now that you put it that way.” He stretched his long legs in front of him. “What do you give a woman who has everything?”

“The only thing you can give her, son.” Alcee placed his hand over his heart. “When you let your woman share the desires of your heart, she’s got everything you own.”

Ray thought over the trials and tribulations of the past three months. In the midst of it all, he’d discovered a lot of joy. Laney had insinuated herself so completely into his life that it was difficult to remember what it was like before. Sometimes, he was amazed at how she managed to do as much as she did when she moved with the speed of cold molasses. The bottom line was that she got things done. In her own quiet way, she’d fought harder for his recovery than he had.

“You know, Red’s amazing, but there’s just one a problem with her.”

“What’s that?”

“Her cooking is worst than Little Bit’s,” he said, referring to his brother, Marcel’s wife.

Alcee grimace. “That bad?”

“Worse,” Ray chuckled. “I’ve never seen anyone as smart as she is who can’t follow instructions on the back of a microwave dinner.”

They both laughed out loud. After they settled down, Alcee stood and patted Ray on the shoulder. “Son, the decision on both issues is ultimately yours. But if I were in your shoes, I won’t give up my dreams simply because I couldn’t carry them out when I’ve got a person in my corner who can.” He moved toward the door. “I hope you realize what a special woman Laney is.”

Ray nodded. “Trust me, I do.”

~ ~ ~

The moment the warmth from the spray of water hit him in the face, Ray groaned. After talking with his father, he hit the shower.

Until now, he hadn’t known how much he truly needed Laney, how much he’d come to depend on her strength. And every time she touched him, he ached. Even during his chemo weeks when he’d been too fatigued to lift his head off the pillow, he’d wanted her. In the past, he’d wanted women for pleasure. Now he needed only one to exist. It wasn’t a hunger for sex, per se, though the sexual attraction was there. He wanted—
needed
to make love specifically with Laney Olivia Houston.

He hung his head until his chin touched his chest. God, she should be here with him. His fingers should be in her hair, his towel drying the wetness from her body. After they finished, it should be his lips planting a kiss at the crown of her head down to the hollow of her neck until he reached her nipples.

A shudder raced down his spine and his legs nearly buckled. Cold, wet tile offered him support. One day, she’d open her thighs in welcome invitation and he’d settle between them. One day, he’d block out everything in the world except the woman beneath him, wrapped securely in his arms, whose delicate body would clasp him so tightly, he’d lose his natural mind. 

A deep groan rumbled inside his chest. He needed to halt the fantasy, before it was too late. Silky red hair, soft green eyes, and a raspy voice calling out his name caused him to tremble. One day, he’d thrust inside of her—deep, long, and hard until they both cried out with pleasure. A soapy hand slid down his body to stave off the inevitable.

It was too late. The convulsion, which began in his groin traveled past his stomach, so strong and so fast, a groan tore from his lips. The wave rolled in and crested before he knew it. With labored breaths, he braced his back against the tile, whispering one word over and over, and over, again.

“
Mon ange.
”

The most precious possession that ever comes to a man in this world is a woman’s heart. – Josiah G. Holland

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
fter a sincere apology, Ray was thrilled Laney agreed to accompany him and the other members of Les Croisés to talk with the young men about the music academy. Not only had she proven to be a staunched advocate for the academy, but she also knew the youths personally and had provided invaluable insight into each of their personalities.  

T. J. had arranged for everyone to meet in the sanctuary at his church.   “Listen up,” he said after he’d restored some semblance of order and marshaled in the excitement of the teenagers. “Want to introduce y’all to Les Croisés.”

“Sister Houston,” one of the youth shrieked, pointing to Ray. “That’s Ray LaSalle!”

Laney nodded. “Yes, I know.”

“Y’all friends?” another youth probed.

Laney glanced over at Raphael and smiled. “Yes, we’re friends.”

“I told you before, we’ll never be f
riends
,” Ray whispered into Laney’s ear, then followed the comment with a wink.  

T.J. scanned the room. “Huh, where’s Javon and Scott?”

None of the youth offered an answer at first. They were still giddy at the upfront and personal encounter with Les Croisés. Finally, one boy reined in his enthusiasm momentarily and blurted out, “Scott’s locked up.”

Ray peered over a pair of baby blue tinted Marc Jacobs frames. Working with a group of teenagers was one thing, but dealing with a juvenile delinquent…Oh God. “Locked up for what?”

The man-child sighed. “That fool was riding around in his mama’s car with a couple of his boys the other day. Five-O saw him when he made a suspect left and pulled him over. He ain’t got no license and his
hombres
had warrants up the yang! They all went down.” He shook his head. “Pastor and Sister Houston don’ told him he can’t hang out with everybody. Knucklehead don’t listen.”

Ray nodded. “So, what’s the 411 on Javon?”

“Well,” the second youth answered, “nutted up and dropped outta school, so his mama kicked him out.”

“Know where he’s hanging out at?” T. J. asked.

The second youth nodded. “Think he’s over in Binghampton staying with a few of his partners.”

Ray made a mental note of both situations as he walked toward the three youths. “So I hear we got some musicians in the house.”

Ray and the other band members spent the next hour discussing music. Talking about his craft and answering questions took his mind off his battle against cancer. Energy surged through his body as eager minds soaked up the information being given. He found himself laughing and answering questions, some of which were profound. He was more convinced than ever that he was in the right place at the right time.

After the discussion, Ray glanced over at the third youth who’d exhibited a typical cocky teenage attitude. “What about you, young blood. What’s on your mind?”