Sizzling Seduction Page 7

  And yet, here she was with Patrick Hightower, laughing and giggling like a schoolgirl who didn’t know just how bad it hurt to fal in love and have that love stomped on and thrown back in her face.

  “I’m going to fol ow you guys and make sure you make it home safely,” he offered.

  He had been so generous with his time and money that evening, she real y couldn’t envision taking more. “That’s okay, Patrick, we’l be fine.”

  “I’m not going to argue about this one, Aisha. It’s dark out and getting late. Humor me.”

  “But we go places in the evening al the time and you’re not there to fol ow us home so—”

  He shook his head, firm in his stance. “Humor me, love.

  Please.”

  The firm resolve on his face would have been irritating if he hadn’t cal ed her love again and gotten her al confused.

  The first thing to come to her mind was to tel him not to cal her that. But then she glanced at his earnest face with that determined square jawline and her heart had the nerve to do a double beat and she only wanted to hear him cal her love again.

  “Fine. But it’s real y not necessary.”

  She started up her car and after a short drive she was parking in front of the four-story apartment building where she and Dil on lived. She ful y expected to see Patrick drive on by and maybe beep on the way. But nope, there he was, parking his SUV and getting out.

  “I’l walk you guys to your door and be on my way,” he offered with a smile.

  “You real y don’t have to do that, Patrick.”

  “Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom.” Dil on started hopping from one foot to the other.

  “Okay, sweetie.” She didn’t have time to belabor the point with Patrick. So she let him walk them to the door.

  As soon as they got there and she opened it, Dil on darted in and took off toward the bathroom. She stared after her child for a moment before turning to Patrick.

  Patrick, who even after she had refused his date, was somehow, miraculously standing at her front door at the end of what felt like a date, even though her son had been with them.

  Yes, she needed to have a word with this trickster. The way he operated, it would only be a matter of time before she was dating him.

  “Can you come in for a minute? We need to have a little chat.”

  He glanced around from side to side and then behind him before pointing to himself. “You want me to come in?”

  Funny guy. “Yes. Just for a minute. Please.”

  Chapter 7

  He folowed her into the living room after she shut the front door. He looked around her home and nodded.

  “Nice place. It’s real y homey. I like it.”

  She smiled because she had worked hard to make the smal space cozy for her and her son. She had caught clearances at Pier 1 and IKEA for most of the furnishings and knickknacks, and she had even picked up a few gently used finds at the Salvation Army and some consignment shops. The apartment had a lived-in, eclectic but stylish feel to it. And she credited the amateur decorating skil s she had gotten when she was addicted to HGTV before she found the Food Network and discovered her true dream passion. But she couldn’t let Patrick’s compliments throw her off course. He was good, but he wasn’t that good.

  She took a deep breath and firmed her resolve. She saw where this was going. She had to nip this in the bud here and now. “Thanks. Have a seat.”

  Just as they took seats opposite each other on the tan-and-rust striped sofa and love seat set, Dil on came dashing into the living room.

  “Can I watch TV?”

  She shook her head. As much as she drummed into his head the difference between can and may, her child refused to use them properly.

  “No you may not. But you may go read a little bit before bedtime. And when I come in to tuck you in we’l read a little more from Harry Potter.”

  A look of horror flashed across her Dil on’s face. “M-o-m!” He glanced at Patrick and then marched his little feet over to her and whispered in her ear. “Not in front of Patrick. He’l think I’m a baby.” He turned toward Patrick.

  “My mom is only kidding. She doesn’t tuck me in or read me stories or anything like that.”

  “Oh, of course not. Big guy like you, being tucked in? I knew right away your mom was joking. But I’l tel you what.

  If you mom is like my mom—and they are both teachers so, I’m thinking she probably is—then she can probably tel a great story. My mom taught for years before she became an administrator. And when she read stories to us, she did al the sounds and painted the images from the books so wel that my brothers and I thought we were in the story. And I’l let you in on a secret. I was a pretty big guy myself before I started feeling a little too old to listen to my mom read to me.”

  Dil on stared at Patrick. “How old were you when you stopped?”

  “Wel , now that depends on how you look at it. See, I have a little toddler niece named Cee Cee and two little nephews, Joel Jr. and Jason Jr., who are both crawling around wreaking havoc. My mother reads to them al the time. And sometimes, I hang around and listen. In fact, I just listened to her reading to Cee Cee the other day. ‘Hansel and Gretel’—my favorite.”

  Dil on laughed, and oddly enough she found herself joining in. Soon the three of them were cracking up, just as they had been in the restaurant. And there was that feeling again, that easy, happy-family feeling she knew she shouldn’t be experiencing.

  Yes. It was time to nip this in the bud. She had to cut it off cold before she started believing it could go somewhere.

  “Okay, Dil on. I need to talk with Patrick for a minute and then I’l be back there to…uh…check on you.”

  “Okay, Mom. G’night, Patrick.”

  “Good night, son. I’l see you again soon.”

  See, that was the problem! He shouldn’t be making promises to her son that he wasn’t going to keep. And he wasn’t going to be able to keep them because she couldn’t afford to let him keep them. Because if she let him keep them, then he’d be around al the time. And if he were around al the time, then she would never be able to continue resisting him. And she couldn’t risk her heart any more on some dominant man who took up al the air in the room just by virtue of being there. So he had to go.

  “Listen, Patrick, it’s obvious that my son likes you a lot and—”

  “Smart kid. He seems to be a great judge of character.”

  “Yeah…right…Anyway, the thing is, I can’t have you making promises to him and raising expectations that you’re not going to be able to meet. His father is already a major disappointment—”

  “The man must be an idiot to disappoint a kid like Dil on.”

  “Yes, he is an idiot. Among other things…” Mean, self-righteous, arrogant, cruel, a class-A-jerk…She could think of so many descriptions for her ex-husband. “That’s not the point, though. The point is—”

  “I’m not him.” Patrick sat up straighter in his chair and there was that confident, assured swagger that he wore like a favorite shirt.

  “I know that. I never said you were. I—”

  “I’m not him. I would never do anything to hurt you or Dil on.”

  She sucked her teeth. “Stop interrupting me. Let me finish making my point.”

  He shook his head. “Your point isn’t based on facts. It’s based on your fears. And I can help put your fears to rest.

  Because I am not him and I would never hurt you.”

  “You can say that al you want. But the fact is, we don’t know that, do we? We can’t see into the future and there are no guarantees.”

  “Your fear is going to make you miss out on magic, love.”

  “Magic?” She gave a nervous laugh. “I think you might be thinking a little highly of yourself, don’t you? And stop cal ing m e love. I didn’t give you permission to give me a nickname.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not thinking highly of myself. I’m thinking highly of us and what we can b
e together. I know I became a believer the moment I first set eyes on you.

  What’s it gonna take for you to become a believer, too?”

  He paused and looked her dead in the eyes with a sincerity that startled her. “And I can’t stop cal ing you love.”

  She folded her hands across her lap to fight the sudden impulse she had to fan herself. This was not going the way she had planned.

  He had it so right and so wrong at the same time. She wasn’t afraid of much of anything anymore and she certainly didn’t fear him. But there was one thing she was deathly afraid of and that was his little nickname for her. Those four letters scared her more than anything. And she hated the clammy, out-of-control feeling that came over her when she even thought about risking her heart.

  “Why don’t you take a chance? What are you afraid of?

  I’l tel you what. How about you give me a month just to get to know you and Dil on. No strings. I’l take Dil on to the games, as I promised. Practice his pitching. We can even check out some museums and maybe the zoo. You don’t have to be alone with me and we don’t have to explore a relationship. We can just take it slow.”

  Urgggh! He was not making this easy at al . If she were stil in her twinkling twenties and believed in love and half the things men said to get women to let down their guard, she would have had him in the bedroom already. He was good at running his game. She had to give him that.

  She just stared at him, trying to think of a comeback that would get him to give up his attempted seduction of her.

  She had nothing. And he was so handsome sitting there on her sofa. Even in his relaxed pose, he exuded more masculinity than should comfortably fit in her smal apartment. His muscles fil ed out that brown cotton shirt like nobody’s business. And she wasn’t even going to touch what those hulking thighs and that tight behind did to those jeans…

  Luckily the phone started ringing, and that would buy her a little more time. She got up and looked at the cal er ID. It was her parents’ number and her heart stopped beating for a moment. They never cal ed her. The only thing she could think of was that something must have happened to her mother. Her father must have final y…She couldn’t even finish the thought.

  “Excuse me, Patrick, I have to take this.”

  He nodded and she picked up the phone.

  “Mom?” She said hesitantly, hopping it was her mother.

  “This is your father, Aisha. Your mother has been forbidden to cal you. So why would you think it was her?”

  Aisha rol ed her eyes. She knew there would never be a day when any man could forbid her from talking to her own child. Thank goodness she was breaking the cycle.

  “Hel o, Dad.” She couldn’t fix her mouth to say it was good to hear from him or any other normal pleasantry.

  “Mom doesn’t cal me. But when I saw your number on the cal er ID, I could only assume it would have been Mom. I never expected you to cal at al after—”

  “After you foolishly went against my wishes, divorced your husband and moved to that godforsaken city?”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m cal ing because it is time for you to get your head on straight and do what’s right for your child and not your own selfish needs. Wil iam is very close to becoming partner at the firm. We are having a reception for some key clients, and al the partners are bringing their wives and children. If he were to secure this client, who is very big on family and family values, it would give me a stronger case to argue for him—”

  “Dad, what does this have to do with me? I divorced Bil .

  We are no longer married. And I am certainly not going to pretend so that he can win some client. The man hardly makes time to visit his child and he barely pays the child support and alimony he fought so hard to get reduced. The man could care less if Dil on and I lived in a shack and you are cal ing here pleading his case?”

  Her blood started to boil and bubble up under her skin and angry beads of sweat pebbled on her forehead. She forgot about everything in that moment, even her hard-won independence and new life. Funny how her father could break her down and bring her back to being a scared and angry little girl.

  Daniel Foster was a formidable attorney and a hard-edged man. There was a time when he would at least have a smile and a “how’s my little princess today” for her. But those days were long since past. From the time she was in her teens and dared to voice her opinion on how he spoke to her mother, he’d used the same hard demeanor with her, as wel . She spent the rest of her time in high school and most of col ege trying to reclaim her space as daddy’s girl and rarely did anything to upset her father until she divorced Bil .

  She clasped the phone tightly and tried to get a grip.

  She was not a child. She was a woman, and she was in control of her own life.

  “I am arguing his case because I was the one who told him to fight you on the child support and the alimony. I’d hoped that once you got a taste of struggle and what it takes to survive in the world without a man to support you, you would come to your senses and go back to your husband. I had no idea you could be this stubborn and childish—”

  She bit back bile as she angrily cut her father off.

  “Father, I am never going back to your little protégé William. You and Billy-boy can forget that. And I would rather die than help him with anything, let alone secure some client for your firm. He is a horrible, abusive man and any father worth a damn would be helping his daughter stay away from him. In any case, I am seeing someone now, and I know he would have a problem with me even having this discussion. So, if you’re done…”

  “Who are you seeing? Some low-life scumbag from Paterson? A drug dealer? Some common thief?” The derision in his voice made her skin crawl, and for a moment she wished she real y were brave enough to risk her heart again and she real y were seeing someone.

  But that kind of bravery was going to take time, and she didn’t have that time right now—not when she had to take the air out of her father’s self-righteous little bubble.

  “You mean like the people you and Bil defend and help keep out of prison? No, I don’t deal with such people, professional y or otherwise. The man I’m seeing is a real-life hero.” Her recent trip to the fire station crossed her mind and she smiled. “A fireman.”

  “A fireman?” Her father bit out a sharp bitter laugh. “A blue-col ar worker? Why not just date the garbage-man?”

  “There is nothing wrong with folks making an honest living.” She should have known she couldn’t win with her father. The man was a snob to the core and just plain mean to boot.

  “Says the broke schoolteacher. Stop being an idiot and go back to your husband, princess.”

  “Don’t cal me princess! In fact, father, please do not cal me again!” She hung up the phone, let out an angry half grunt, half yel and stamped her foot.

  She wanted to throw the phone against the wal , but she knew that wouldn’t solve anything. Plus her father’s little broke schoolteacher swipe wasn’t far off the mark. There certainly wasn’t any money in her budget for a new phone.

  “So, you’re seeing a fireman, huh? A real-life hero?”

  She jumped and clutched her chest at the sound of Patrick’s voice. How had she let her father’s irritating request make her forget that Patrick was in the room?

  Oh, brother…

  She shook her head and sat down on the sofa. Then she started to laugh and buried her head in her lap. Otherwise she’d cry.

  What a night! What an un-freaking believable night.

  “You’re right, though,” Patrick said as he joined in on her laughter. “Your new man…the fireman…he wouldn’t like you even thinking about going anywhere with that idiot ex-husband of yours.”

  She real y started laughing then and had tears running down her face by the time she was finished. Final y she sat up, holding her laugh-sore stomach as she did.

  “Okay, before you get al crazy, I forgot you were in the room. My father makes
me so angry. The nerve of him. If I had remembered you were actual y in the room, I would have picked another fake boyfriend.”

  He clutched his heart in mock pain. “Oh…please tel me you’re not fake breaking up with me already.”

  “Dear John…it’s not you…it’s me…” She painted on an expression of mock sincerity and tilted her head.

  He closed his eyes and fel back on the love seat. “Oh, no! Not Dear John.”

  She hadn’t laughed this hard in years and she suddenly wanted to laugh that hard again and again. She’d forgotten how good it felt. She could let him take out Dil on and her a few times. What could it hurt?

  “Okay, seriously, though. I think it would be okay if you, Dil on and I got to know each other. I’m not making any promises. Because I don’t know that I’l be able to get into a relationship, or even go out on a real date with you. But Dil on seems to real y like you and you’re right—he is a good judge of character. So we’l see.”

  He nodded. “That’s al I want—a chance. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  She sucked her top lip into her mouth because she didn’t trust what might have come out of her mouth at that moment. She’d already said way too much. So she just nodded, too. And she hoped like hel she wouldn’t regret taking this chance.

  Chapter 8

  Patrick entered his one-family colonial home pretty much on cloud nine. He hadn’t made as much progress as he had wanted to in terms of getting Aisha to trust him. But he had made more progress than he expected. And he knew…He now knew that there was no way he could give up.

  He even found himself humming a little song as he entered his bedroom. He was taking off his shirt, ready to hit the sheets so that he could dream about Aisha. When he entered his bedroom, however, al humming and thoughts stopped.