Love Me Carefully Read online

  Indigo Love Stories

  An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.

  Publishing Company

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  P.O. Box 101

  Columbus, MS 39703

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

  Copyright© 2006 by A. C. Arthur

  ISBN-13: 978-1-58571-525-1

  ISBN-10: 1-58571-525-5

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition

  Visit us at www.genesis-press.com or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0

  Dedication

  To Minister Harvey and Annette Moore and Deacon Ernest and Marlene Arthur for setting the example of what a good marriage should be.

  Acknowledgments

  For the man that bumped into me on Howard and Clay Streets fourteen years ago…you had enough space to move around, but I’m glad you didn’t.

  To André, Asia and Amaya, my triple dose of inspiration. Thanks for all the input, your spontaneous promotion and yes, the days you leave me alone long enough to write. Mommy loves you!

  Thanks so much to Angelique for seeing the potential and keeping me on my toes!

  PROLOGUE

  December

  Negril, Jamaica

  “You know this is a million dollar deal you’re messin’ wit?” A six-foot-tall Rastafarian named Rohan stood on the terrace of his plush beach home. In the distance, palm trees and a never-ending blanket of sparkling blue beckoned the weary traveler, promising luxury and relaxation. The perfect getaway, the perfect escape.

  “I know what I’m doing.” The burly American sat in a chair on the terrace, thinking and re-thinking the plan that had been discussed. It would work, he knew it would. In six months he’d be safe in Negril, away from Baltimore, away from the accusations and speculation that had plagued him for the last ten years. He’d start all over again, leaving his sordid past behind him. Building a whole new life wouldn’t be easy, he admitted, but at least he wouldn’t be alone. He’d be married by the time the deal closed, and he and his wife would move to Negril and live happily ever after. That was the plan. That was his plan.

  “Dat’s a lot of ganja to move.” His Jamaican accent thick and profound, the tall man lit a cigarette and took a puff.

  “I don’t have to move it. All I have to do is make sure it’s delivered safely to Jones and he can take it from there.” Dismissing Rohan’s concerns with a flick of his wrist, the burly man sat back in the chair. “You just make sure Jones is where he’s supposed to be, when he’s supposed to be there.”

  “He’ll be d’ere. Don’t you worry.”

  “I’m not worried at all.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  February

  Baltimore, Maryland

  Terrell Pierce had worked all night, his mind reeling with computer code and logistics. This had been his routine for the past couple of months. SISCO Engineering was a huge job that he was lucky to land as an independent contractor. By Christmas the re-design of SISCO’s entire system would provide him with more than enough money to have him comfortably in his own home.

  That went along perfectly with his timeline. His life had been planned and scheduled since the day he turned sixteen. He knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t about to stop until he had it all. The college degrees, the perfect job, the six figure salary, all that had come easily enough with dedication and determination—of which he had plenty to spare. Now he was moving towards the next phase of his dream.

  He needed a family to round out his perfect scenario. He wanted the whole nine yards—successful career, a wife, kids, house and pets. That was where Tanya came in. She was beautiful, educated and classy. She would be perfect standing beside him as he continued his climb to the top. As soon as things slowed down a bit at work, he would propose and, hopefully, by this time next year they would already be on their way to starting a family.

  Life was good.

  Pressing the appropriate code, he gained entrance to the high-priced condo he leased. As if on cue, his stomach growled. He dropped his suitcase and headed for the kitchen. But then he heard something. His feet stopped, his ears perking up like those of a hound hearing a fox call.

  Plush charcoal gray carpet lined the living room and dining room floors, so his steps were muffled.

  The moaning he’d heard coming from his bedroom was not.

  He moved quickly then, propelled by adrenaline. When he approached the door the moaning subsided. For one brief minute he thought he might have imagined it.

  “Oh baby, I’m about to cum!” a male voice groaned.

  His hand was on the knob, his imagination never having been that good. Shock didn’t begin to describe what he was feeling the second he stepped into that room.

  In the middle of his bed—in the middle of his king-sized cherry wood Signature bed—some guy’s ass was moving in and out of some woman with the vigor of a champion stallion.

  The female’s feet bobbed on the man’s shoulders and Terrell couldn’t quite see her face.

  “Oh yeah, come on, baby. Cum for mama!”

  But he knew the voice—knew it very well.

  Consumed with their activities, neither person heard him approach. He cleared his throat once, then again for good measure. They stopped mid-stroke.

  He wouldn’t overreact, wouldn’t turn this scene into some drama-filled fight that his neighbors would hear and disapprove of, even though his frantically beating heart was trying to lead him in that direction.

  “What the hell?” the man yelled.

  “Terrell!” Tanya screeched.

  With clenched teeth Terrell stood at the end of the bed, waiting to receive an explanation, which he doubted he’d understand. “Am I interrupting?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from dragging her from the bed.

  The man jumped up, surprise and embarrassment apparent in his eyes. “I thought you said you lived alone.” He looked at Tanya as he reached for his pants.

  Tanya sat up on the bed, not the least bit bothered by her nakedness. “I can’t believe you found your way in here. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you in the bedroom.” She crossed her legs Indian style, her palms on her bare thighs.

  Terrell took in the display; after all, he was a man. But it was like looking at a stranger. Her usually neat and perfectly styled hair was in disarray, she wore no makeup, and her eyes were dark, excited. This was not the woman he’d known for the past nine months. The thought should have made him feel at least a little better about the situation, but really didn’t.

  He clamped his teeth down so tight he thought for sure he’d get lockjaw. He refused to talk to her until they were alone. The man was hastily getting his clothes on, looking from Terrell to Tanya, yelling expletives as though one or both of them should have been doing something other than staring at each other. In retrospect, Terrell figured the man was probably right. This had to be the worst busted lover scene in history. It was too calm, too quiet, but then that was the kind of man Terrell was.

  “You don’t even care, do you?” Tanya asked after her lover had finally gone.


  Terrell took a deep breath. “Do I care that you’re cheating on me, or do I care that you were tasteless enough to do it in our bed?”

  She gave a wilted chuckle. “It would be more like you to be concerned about the bed than what I was doing in it,” she spat.

  He turned his back to her, then moved to stand near his dresser, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. Inside he was roiling with anger, and his shoulders stiffened as he replayed the visions of them together. Still, he didn’t yell, didn’t demand an explanation.

  “Aren’t you even going to ask me why?” she yelled from behind him.

  “Is it going to matter?” he spoke quietly. In his book infidelity was a definite negative. At this very moment he was witnessing his dream begin to crumble, and, for once in his life, he was powerless to stop it. He’d chosen her carefully, made sure she met every one of his criteria before asking her to move in with him. It was a sure thing with her, they were a sure thing; he’d already picked out the engagement ring.

  Tanya jumped off the bed, pulled on his shoulder until he turned around. “This is it, this is the problem right here! This is why I’ve resorted to someone else. But a lot of good it’s done me. You can’t even muster enough emotion to fight to understand why this happened.”

  Terrell took a step back because her pulling on his shoulder had brought him dangerously close to shaking the hell out of her. She seemed to want a different reaction from him, yet he knew if he unleashed his fury things would go too far, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Distance was definitely needed. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

  “You’re damned right it’s your fault. If you’d pay attention to something other than your computers and your money you would have seen this coming. You would have tried to do something to stop it.”

  He couldn’t believe she had the audacity to try to blame her betrayal on him. “I am not going to take the blame because you couldn’t keep your legs closed. That was your stupidity.” He did raise his voice then, because the pain of still seeing her naked and writhing beneath that other man was all too real. “I gave you everything, anything you wanted and this is how you repay me. I’m working all night long to make things better for us while you’re screwing some dude in our bed. How exactly is that my fault, Tanya?”

  “I didn’t ask for any and everything, Terrell. I only wanted to be with you. But you were so busy trying to own every damned dollar in the world that you couldn’t see that. We didn’t need anything else except each other.” A lone tear slipped down her face streaking the smooth honey toned skin. “I needed you, not your money,” she whispered.

  “Well, now you’ll have neither.” There was nothing else to be said. If he couldn’t depend on her loyalty, they had nothing. He would not listen to her excuses, would not give them a second thought. She was wrong, and now it was over.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing a headache was inevitable, and moved towards the bathroom. Pausing at his dresser, he retrieved boxers and a t-shirt. “I’m going to take a shower. You need to be packed and gone by the time I finish.”

  * * *

  Leah Graham refused to celebrate Valentine’s Day, but she had agreed to go out with Leon on the night before Valentine’s, tonight. She was already seated at the restaurant when he called her cell phone to say he was running a little late.

  She had gone out with Leon Reynolds, a cool guy she’d met at a wedding show, at least half a dozen times, and they seemed to get along pretty well. Leon was the marketing director for Onyx Apparel, a black-owned and operated business specializing in business and business casual attire for the urban marketplace. He owned half the company, partnering with his brother, Calvin, who actually did most of the designing.

  They’d met in Cleveland. He was vending the company’s first evening wear line at the same convention. It just so happened that they both worked and resided in Baltimore.

  Lately, Leon was hinting at taking their relationship to another level. Leah was hesitant.

  To her, sex meant commitment. And commitment led to moving in together. And moving in together led to marriage. And Leah was never, ever, getting married.

  When she was eight she had envisioned what her wedding would be like. She’d wear a long flowing white gown, with a glittering tiara and a seven-foot veil. She’d walk down the aisle of the church and meet her husband-to-be, who would be clad in a white tuxedo with tails, and a smile meant only for her. She’d take his hand and they’d recite their vows to each other. They’d go on a fabulous honeymoon to Hawaii and come back to Baltimore to set up house. They’d both have full-time jobs but would be home together at night. She’d have two kids and they would live happily ever after.

  Yeah, right.

  On her ninth birthday Leah’s mother announced that she was divorcing her father. The word devastated did not describe how Leah felt. The thought of her father not being in the same house with her was a hard blow to take. Just days after her birthday all her father’s things were gone, and so was he. A few months later she received a letter from him telling her that he was moving to Alaska to open his own business. Leah had cried for days.

  By Leah’s eleventh birthday her mother had married again. A year later she’d had another baby. By the time Leah graduated from high school, her mother had married two more times and had two more children, thus proving to Leah that marriage wasn’t the lifetime commitment she had first thought it to be.

  As she grew up, however, she never lost her interest in weddings, their grandeur, the playing out of the ultimate fairy tale. She loved planning them, loved feeling like an artist unveiling a new painting, a director standing proud at his movie’s debut. She’d become a wedding planner even though the institution of marriage held little personal appeal to her.

  Leah sat back in her chair, sipped from her glass of white wine, and thought about Leon. She wasn’t angry that he was late. Actually, she’d hoped he was calling to say he couldn’t make it. No such luck, though. She took another sip.

  Leon wanted to have sex. She knew that, had known that the last two times she’d been with him. But she wasn’t there yet—didn’t even know if she’d ever get there. Hell, kissing him had become a chore.

  Damn. What was she going to do? She took another sip. She couldn’t play coy—she’d never mastered the games some women played. She liked to be up front and brutally honest with the men she was dating, especially since she had no intention of being with any of them forever.

  Looking up from her glass she saw Leon walking toward the table. All six feet, four inches of his ebony beauty approached in that cool swagger that let everybody know he was the bomb!

  Damn.

  “Hey beautiful,” he whispered, bending so that his lips could brush hers.

  Leah tried to calm her rampant thoughts. “Hello.”

  “Did you order?” he asked while taking his seat.

  She nodded. “Yes, the waiter came over right after I spoke to you.”

  “Good. I want to get you home as soon as possible.”

  Tell me something I don’t know. He licked his thick lips, not looking a bit like LL, she thought dismally. His eyes glistened with promises she didn’t want to acknowledge, and his large hands reached for hers. “We could have had dinner at my place,” she said, glad they hadn’t. At least this way she could give him a goodnight kiss and go into her apartment alone.

  “I wanted to take you out. We’ll be alone soon enough.” He winked at her.

  No, he wanted to be in control. Leon thrived on control, and normally that was fine with her. She ran her business like a tight ship, but in her relationships, as few as there were, she was used to letting the guy take the lead—at least until she was finished with him. Then it became her show.

  Leon liked to make the plans, liked to come up with the surprises, and for right now, she was simply a willing participant. She dated for entertainment purposes only. There would be no grand love affair happening in her life, so there
was never a power struggle. He could do what he wanted as long as she allowed it. Tonight, however, she wondered how long it would be before Leon would use his control to try to bed her.

  The food came and she grabbed the waiter’s jacket sleeve. “Another drink, please.” This was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  “Who’s next?” Extravagantly painted three-inch nails tapped on the marble counter, waiting for a reply.

  “Mary’s next on your list,” Rosie told the skinny young woman who stood in front of her, chewing gum like a cow. “And stop chewin’ with your mouth open. It ain’t ladylike,” she fussed.

  Keesha frowned at the older woman sitting behind the desk. “I never made any claims about being a lady.”

  “And nobody’ll ever mistake you for one, either.” Rosie rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mary, you’re next.”

  A tall, heavy-set woman got up from the leather couch in the waiting room and walked over to the counter. Keesha stood on her tiptoes and raked her fake nails through the woman’s hair. “What are you gettin’ done today, girl?”

  “I want something sexy. My man’s taking me out later tonight, and I want to look good.” Mary put her hands into her hair, trying to demonstrate a style. “You know, something like a little up, and then a little something soft around my face.”

  Mary had a big face, with bubble eyes and large lips. Keesha was going to have to do a lot of work to make a soft, sexy hairdo for her. “I know what you mean, honey.” Keesha made the gum pop again as the lie slid effortlessly from her lips. But she’d do her best for the sixty-five dollars she was going to charge Mary. “Come on back.”

  The two females walked to the back of the shop, where shampoo girls waited for their next client. Mary sat down and Chantel tied a cape around her neck before lowering her head into the sink and switching on the warm water.

  The bell on the door chimed, signaling the entrance of yet another woman on a mission to be beautified.

  Finished with her clients for the day, Rosie was still sitting up front playing receptionist. She didn’t mind the task because it gave her a chance to get off her feet until Donald came to pick her up.