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Her neck snapped back as if I'd slapped her across the face. I would have given anything to take back my words. Her tone was low and flat, "He and I fight so much because we both love our kids. If that white man gives two shits about any black babies he makes with you, then count yourself damn lucky." I knew she was only spewing that bitterness because of the sad state of her own marriage and divorce.

She sat her coffee cup on the table and got up off the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," was all she said before walking out the front door, leaving me in unshakable doubt.

Chapter Five

Channing

The most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen had just agreed to go out with me. There were no words to describe how excited I was, but my enthusiasm was soon deflated. Where was I going to take her? A classy chick like her wouldn't be down with warm beer and a few rounds of pool. Not to mention if I took her to the tavern, we'd definitely run into someone I knew and the depending on who it was the situation would either become bad or very bad.

I had to think outside of the box. Come up with a date that would truly sweep her off her feet or our first date might be our last. I went to my computer and looked up the best restaurants within an hour of us. I found a Mexican place that looked good, but when I looked at the prices on the menu the blood drained from my face. Dinner, drinks and tip would cost me almost an entire week's pay.

I looked for something else, but I kept going back to the page for that restaurant. I really wanted to impress her. I'd been putting some money aside, it was time to spend it. Though I hoped taking her there wouldn't mean she'd expect to go to places like that every time. If she did, I wouldn't be able to afford it. But I wanted to make our first date special.

My cell buzzed with a text.

Kemara: Sorry about that. My sister needed me, but she's fine now. Here's my address...

Me: Thanks. I can't wait for our date. And you're such a sweetheart, the way you look after your sister.

Kemara: You just keep thinking that, stud.

I laughed.

Me: So you think I'm a stud? Huh?

Kemara: Shoosh, unless you want to get hammered.

A few seconds later before I could type a good comeback my phone buzzed again.

Kemara: Can we please keep pretending half the stuff I say isn't a bad innuendo?

God, she was adorable.

Me: Sure can.

We talked on the phone a few more times during the week and we texted one another every day. Finally, Saturday came around and it was time to pick her up. I wasn't surprised to discover she lived in the city which was about an hour's drive from my town. That would explain why I hadn't seen her before, even though I'd seen her friend several times.

I pulled up in front of her apartment building. It was neat and clean and a bit on the upscale side, my rusty pickup stuck out like a sore thumb in front of it. Part of me was surprised she even took me up on my offer. Most professional women wouldn't give a redneck like me the time of day. Glad she was willing to take a chance.

She buzzed me in and I headed upstairs with a bouquet of roses in my hand. Another first for me, but I was goi

ng all out. I had this nagging feeling that somehow I was going to screw this up and I needed all the positive collateral I could get when I did. When she opened the door, my jaw dropped. She wore a sleeveless black dress with lace covering the top of it and her hair down and to the side. "You look amazing."

She smiled as she took the flowers from me. "Thank you. Come in, while I put these in some water."

Her place looked just like I imagined. A strange combination of sleek and cozy that somehow fit her. There was a place for everything, but at the same time, it felt welcoming, like it wouldn't be hard to find a place for you too. She came out of the kitchen with the flowers in a vase. She placed them on the table and was ready to go.

When we got to my truck, I held the door open for her. I hoped there wasn't anything in there that might get her dress dirty. I was wearing a suit jacket, usually something I'd only do if someone had just died, but I figured it was a requirement for the restaurant I was taking her to.

We pulled up in front of the restaurant and I handed the valet my keys. He looked down at them, then at me, and then at my truck. I gave him a look that strongly suggested he park my truck without opening his mouth. He took my suggestion.

After we took our seats, I could tell something was wrong. Kemara read the menu with her face all pinched up like she was looking at a bad report card. "What's wrong?"

"Please don't get offended when I ask this, but how can you afford this?"

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