Page 22 of The One He Desires

“Are you serious?”

“As a person who prefers to eat a bloody and still mooing ribeye. Coyote was planning to rob a local corner store and thought that he could get some help with his plans by sharing them on the site.”

My mouth opens and closes as I sit in utter amazement at the low intelligence of some people in this world. Clearly, Coyote spends too much time watching TV, or all of his childhood crayons were broken whenever he got a new box. I listen with bated breath as Sincere continues with the story. By the time he’s done, all I can do is shake my head.

“You actually walked that man into KPD?” I ask before my giggles replace my question when Sincere answers.

“I sure did. His mother passed him off to me like she was an innkeeper at the zoo. Out here embarrassing that poor woman like that. She couldn’t show her face at the church she attends for two months fooling with him and his mess.”

“Why? Everybody knows that adult kids often do things contrary to how you raised them.”

“That’s the thing. She had been telling the congregation that he was in seminary and about to become an assistant pastor. She’s the pastor.”

That information had me laughing hard enough to break my ribs, with tears sliding from my eyes unchecked. Sincere joins in, and it takes me a couple of minutes to get myself together.

“Wow. Not the pastor lying to her congregants.”

“Yes, she did. It was a wild time. Now, I make sure to interview potential clients before I take them on. I ain’t got time for mess. These folks are doing more than I have time for.”

“I know that’s right. Better you than me because I couldn’t do it.”

Sincere and I continue our conversation, and I forget he’s still at work until he announces his departure to whoever I assume is a security guard. I take note of the time and become giddy because I can’t recall being on a call with a man so long without getting bored.

“I’m gonna let you go so you can get some rest. But before I do, would it be too forward if I ask you out on a date?”

Hell no. Ask me. Ask me.

“It wouldn’t be forward at all.” I can hear the smile in my voice, but there’s nothing I can do to stop or prevent it.

My heart rate escalates, and I’m about to run a marathon without any formal training as the seconds tick by. I hold my breath in anticipation, and thankfully, Sincere puts me out of my misery a second later.

“Will you go out with me, Journee?”

“I will.” Those are two of the breathiest words I’ve spoken, which is crazy since I had Milan naturally.

“You just made my late night worth it. I’m gonna let you know, but sleep well because I definitely will.”

Two seconds later, the call has ended, and I’m walking back to my room like I’m on a cloud. Euphoria fills me with adrenaline, sure to keep me up another hour. I walk into my bedroom and cover my mouth as I giggle at the sight of Milan slumped in my bed. Her hand holds up her little head, and her left leg is crossed over her right thigh. It’s a position I’ve often seen from Mom, and it’s crazy how subtly my baby is being influenced by it.

I walk to the bed, gently pick Milan up, and creep to her room so she can sleep comfortably in her bed. While I love my baby, she’s not the best person to sleep with. I have woken up to more backaches from being kicked during the night, and thanks to Sincere, I need tonight to end the way I feel: elated. Once I’m back in my room, I plug my phone up and then head to the shower with thoughts on Sincere and when our first date will be.

My mind takes me back to the night we danced, and excitement fills me when I remember how it felt to be in his arms. My heartbeat synced with his, and my security expanded in spades with one slow dance. It had me fantasizing about things I hadn’t imagined before, such as what it would be like to be his. It was reckless because I didn’t know anything beyond his familial ties and his career choice. But I stayed in his arms with my eyes closed, the music offering me an opportunity to dream.

Thoughts of Sincere made my shower longer than usual. I found myself contemplating using my hands to put out the fire in my lower half. But I’m sick of touching myself. I want to be touched by a man. I rinse the soap from my body, turn off the shower, and step out with tension in my shoulders. Being single isn’t always the flex some believe it to be, especially when the time has been as long as mine. The only good thing is my desire not to settle for mediocrity and my slight fear that, post-BN, I won’t be able to have a one-night stand.

With my body draped in a towel, I reenter my room as my phone chimes. My eyes pinch as I walk to the nightstand to check to see who’s on my phone at this time of night. My left hand grips the towel as my right struggles to unlock the phone so I can read the new message.

Sincere:

I made it home. Put me on your calendar for Friday night. We can work out the specifics tomorrow.

My nipples pebble as I bite the corner of my lip after reading Sincere’s text. Just when I thought I would be able to easily go to bed. All I can hope is that the date ends in a kiss that gives me several reasons to fantasize about what’s coming next for us.

A Couple of Days Later . . .

My phone buzzes, alerting me to the intercom and to Cynthia needing me for something. I pause my typing and push the button before I speak.

“Yes, ma’am.”