Romance in Color Page 3

  Kareem wrapped a muscled arm around Patrice’s shoulders. “My sister’s rehearsal dinner. She’s getting married tomorrow.”

  Patrice bit her lower lip. She’d forgotten his sister’s wedding was this weekend. He didn’t talk much about his family, but she overheard enough to know he was the son of Roger Henderson, who owned several very successful automotive dealerships. His sister’s wedding would be a big event with everyone who was anyone in the area attending.

  “Then tomorrow,” Chad said. “We can have breakfast or lunch.”

  She shook her head. “The wedding. I’ll be there all day.” Kareem’s arm around her stiffened. Her insides quivered. Using his family event as an excuse to escape her family was kind of shady.

  “Sunday, and that’s it. I have to be back in Charlotte on Monday. You are not going to ignore us anymore, Patrice,” Chad said in a voice so much like their father’s that both homesickness and anger placed a heaviness in Patrice’s chest. “I’ll be at your home at noon to pick you up.”

  Patrice stepped forward. Kareem’s arm fell from her shoulders and she missed his strength. “Chad—”

  “No arguments, Patrice,” Chad snapped. Then the tension left his shoulders and for a second concern filled his eyes. “Just talk to me. You owe everyone that much.”

  She wrestled back the guilt his words tried to stir up. When she’d left she didn’t think she owed the family anything. Going away preserved her sanity along with her health. She opened her mouth to deny him. Chad watched her, his eyes wide with hope. The argument died on her lips.

  “Fine. Lunch on Sunday.”

  Chad nodded, his hope quickly morphing to a self-satisfied look before his eyes flicked to Kareem. “I’ll see you alone on Sunday.”

  She lifted and lowered her chin. Chad took a deep breath and swiftly turned and strode out the door. His black Maserati was parked along the curb in front of the shop.

  After he drove off, Kareem cleared his throat behind her. Her stomach buzzed like a pair of hair clippers.

  She turned to face him. “Thank you for not ratting me out.”

  The frown on his face should scare her. Instead his dark, flat eyes increased the buzzing in her midsection. Not with fear. Kareem was a beacon to the female sex drive. One hundred percent of handsome sex appeal flavored with danger—absolutely nothing like the guys who she was normally attracted to. She shouldn’t want him. If only her body would listen to her brain.

  “In my office, now,” he said. He smoothly spun away from her and marched to the curtain separating the front from the back.

  The sounds of the love poem album played softly in the background—the only song on the album dedicated to making love. Her mind jumped back to catching him in his office with his ex. She closed her eyes and sighed. That was not making love. That was pure sex. Raw, hot, unfiltered sex. Warmth started at the pulse between her thighs.

  Dammit, brain, I want love, not sex.

  Opening her eyes she took another deep breath then followed him to the back of the shop. Kareem waited at the door of his office. She hesitated, and he placed a hand on the small of her back and nudged her forward. Heavy footfalls came behind her, and the door closed with a solid thud. She sucked in a breath and twisted her foot back and forth. She looked everywhere but the desk. Kareem slid past her; the smell of the shea butter oil he used on his dreadlocks and Irish Spring soap sent a thrill across her skin. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth.

  We’re just in here to talk.

  She finally made contact with his dark gaze, and her teeth dug into her lip. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and a hint of amusement filled his eyes. He knew she was thinking about that embarrassing moment and found her discomfort funny.

  Heat flashed up her cheeks; still, she lifted her chin. “Thanks again for backing up my lie.” Several more seconds passed with his gaze drilling into her. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, are you going to curse me out or something?” she said, irritated.

  He hooked his thumbs into the back of his black slacks and leaned back on his heels. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Patrice?”

  Patrice cringed. “You can call me Neecie.” He frowned, clearly not satisfied. “It’s a nickname. I never technically lied about my name.”

  “Pat is short for Patrice.”

  “My baby sister couldn’t say Patrice when she was a toddler. She tried for Treecie, I think, but it always sounded like Neecie to me.”

  Kareem shook his head and cut his hand through the air. “Fine. Why did your brother burst into my shop tonight?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I left my family five years ago and haven’t talked to them since.”

  “Why don’t you want to go back?”

  Oh, she had many reasons. The pressure to be the perfect daughter in one of North Carolina’s most distinguished political families. Her crazy way to stay thin by eating then purging. A fiancé at the time who loved her but ignored the bulimia. Yeah, she wasn’t ready to face that, nor was she ready to admit everything to Kareem or see the disgust on his face when she admitted her old weaknesses.

  “I’m not like my family. I don’t want what they want for me.” She met his eyes. “You can understand that.”

  “I feel that.” He took a deep breath. “So I’m your fiancé. What kind of trouble is that going to bring?”

  She relaxed her arms until they crossed in front of her midsection. At least he wasn’t glaring anymore. “Nothing really.”

  Kareem scoffed and pushed aside a folder on his desk before sitting on the edge. Patrice stared at the folder then raised her eyebrows, an idea striking. “Maybe this could work for both of us.”

  “How?” This time he crossed his arms, drawing her attention to biceps bulging beneath his black shirt.

  She dragged her gaze away from his arms. “If, and that’s a big if, I go home next weekend you can come with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know one of the reasons they want me back is to shove some suitable guy under my nose and try to convince me to stay.” More like shove her ex fiancé beneath her nose, based on Chad’s reference to Roland. “If you’re there, they won’t do that.”

  “How does that help me?”

  She glanced at the folder on his desk. “I have connections in Charlotte. You need connections there. I’d introduce you.”

  He stood and stepped into her personal space so quickly she barely had time to blink. “How do you know about my plans?”

  The steel in his voice sent a shiver down her spine and tightened her nipples. “You left the folder open at your station last night.” She pointed to the folder. “I took a look.”

  Kareem narrowed his eyes. “Snooping.”

  “It’s not snooping when it’s wide open.” She tried to sound sure, but the guilt crept in anyway. “Just do me this favor, and I’ll help you.”

  “What connections could you possibly have?”

  She snorted. If only he knew. “Believe me, I do. And if you go, I’ll help you.”

  He stared at her for a several seconds. “Whatever, Neecie.” He stepped back and went around his desk.

  She let out a breath, both happy and remiss without him so close. “We can talk about it tonight after the rehearsal dinner.”

  Kareem’s brows clashed over black eyes, his lips pressed together, and tension radiated from his body. “What?”

  The image of prodding an angry bull came to mind. “Do you honestly think my brother is going to take what we said at face value? He’s going to follow me this weekend just to prove we’re not together.”

  “So now I’ve got to take you to the dinner and the wedding tomorrow?”

  “Were you taking someone else?” She thought of his ex. Patrice hadn’t seen her since that evening in his office about two months ago, but that didn’t mean Kareem wasn’t seeing the woman again.

  His head jerked back. “No, I’m not taking a date.”

  Patrice rushed forward
and leaned her hands on his desk. “Then take me and tell them I’m just a friend.”

  He actually gave part of a smile with that. It twitched the scar above his lip and made her yearn to see a real smile on his face.

  “My family won’t see you coming with me as a just a friend thing. I’ll have to tell them we’re dating, which means they’re going to be all in my business. And, Neecie…” He placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward, bringing his face within inches of hers. “I don’t like my family in my business.”

  She forced herself to stand her ground. “Hello! I ran away from my family five years ago and came up with a fake fiancé just to keep them out of my business.” She stood straight. “I understand, and I promise you, if you do this for me I’ll call on all the old favors I have and help you with your plan.”

  “I still don’t think you can help me.”

  She tilted her head to the side and grinned. “Google the name Milton Baldwin the third, then tell me you don’t want my help.”

  He straightened and scowled. “Who the hell is that?”

  “My father,” she said. “Look him up, along with my mother and brother, and you’ll know that by helping me if I go home, I can give you access to the connections you’re seeking.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The cake was cut, the bouquet thrown, and now everyone danced like teens at prom to celebrate Kareem’s baby sister’s wedding. He watched Fredrick spin Janiyah then pull her into his arms. His sister’s laughter carried across the room to where Kareem sat at an abandoned table. He smiled then sipped champagne from one of the crystal flutes. Janiyah seemed happy. Fredrick looked ecstatic. Good for them. Doubtful he’d ever know that level of contentment.

  A knot formed in his stomach. Clutching the champagne flute, he downed the contents then checked his watch. Time to grab Neecie and get out of here before all the happiness had him spiraling down the if only I had done this trail of regrets.

  He glanced around the crowded ballroom of the country club. Hundreds of people laughed and mingled beneath bunches of silver and white balloons hanging from the ceiling. The place resembled a winter wonderland. Neecie talked with David on the other side of the dance floor. David pointed toward the door, and she headed in that direction. Kareem didn’t worry about her leaving since she came with him.

  David watched Neecie walk away, then made his way to Kareem, a grin on his face. Kareem groaned. Surprisingly, his family hadn’t given him the third degree when Kareem brought Neecie to the rehearsal dinner the night before—only a hopeful look from his mom, a raised eyebrow from David, and an excited grin from Janiyah. But after bringing her to the wedding, he’d have more luck winning the Publisher’s Clearinghouse than escaping without experiencing one hundred questions.

  David pulled out one of the silver chairs wrapped in white tulle two spots over from Kareem and sat, a sly grin on his face. “Rehearsal dinner last night and wedding today. Are you trying to get Mom’s hopes up?”

  The corner of Kareem’s mouth tilted up. “Mom can’t wait to marry us off.”

  “I think it’s part of a mother’s DNA or something—seeing their kids happily married. I bet Neecie’s mom is the same way.”

  “Don’t go there.”

  After researching Milton Baldwin, III, Kareem was pretty damn sure Neecie’s family would go ballistic if he were really marrying her. He still couldn’t believe his Neecie, with her riot of natural curls, colorful personality, and fascination with love was the same cotillion-attending, perfect socialite daughter of one of North Carolina’s most influential state Supreme Court judges.

  David twisted in his seat to face Janiyah and Fredrick on the dance floor. “I wonder if the mom gene will develop in Janiyah.”

  Kareem frowned and shook his head. “I can’t imagine her as a mother.”

  “She’s married now. Before long, there will be babies.” David chuckled and plucked one of the petals off the white rose and lily flower arrangement on the table. “We’ll be uncles.”

  First Janiyah married, then David soon after. Envy created a tight knot in Kareem’s chest. He shifted in his seat and ran a hand over his face.

  “Where’d you send Neecie?” Kareem asked.

  “She was looking for the bathroom. She’ll be back in a second.” David unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo and leaned his forearms on the table. Dark eyes studied Kareem. “So what’s up with you two? I thought you didn’t notice her?”

  Kareem sat back in his chair. He’d already ditched the tie to his tuxedo, but his throat constricted. Time for the barrage of questions. “I noticed her. We’re together, if anyone asks.” He wasn’t sure if he was accepting her offer or not, but for the weekend he’d go along with her lie—at least to keep her brother off her back.

  David scratched his beard. “Why would anyone ask?”

  “Just in case they do,” Kareem said with a shrug.

  “Is this serious?”

  Kareem picked up the champagne flute and brought it to his lips. Empty, damn. He drummed his fingers along the stem. “For now.”

  “You know I love your cryptic answers.” David shook his head.

  Kareem smirked. One of the few joys Kareem had in life was annoying his younger brother. “That’s why I give them.”

  “You know you can talk to us.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re talking now.”

  David didn’t take the bait. Instead he shifted in his seat and stared at Kareem. “I mean really talk. You’re not the black sheep of the family anymore.”

  “But I used to be?”

  “Stop trying to avoid a serious conversation. If you need anything, any help … all you have to do is ask.”

  Kareem gripped the champagne glass. “I’m good, David.”

  “But if you—”

  Kareem glared at David. “I’m good.”

  David’s lips pinched, and he returned Kareem’s glare. Finally, David lifted his chin. “Fine. We’ll do things your way. But remember, we’re your family. We want to help.”

  “Good to know.” Kareem glanced back at Janiyah and Fredrick on the dance floor. David didn’t get it. His family didn’t get it. They’d worked the Henderson magic to lessen his sentence after the carjacking and to cover up his problems while in jail. Kareem wouldn’t call in any more favors.

  Neecie came back into the reception hall. She stood in the doorway and glanced around the room. When she spotted them, she smiled and headed their way. Kareem sat forward to rest his elbow on the table. He ran his finger over the scar above his lip and watched the subtle sway of her wide hips. Instead of the flowing skirts and colorful scarves she wore in the shop, she looked every bit the socialite with a cream-colored silk top, black pencil skirt with matching blazer, and bend me over the table black pumps. She’d pulled her hair back into a simple bun, leaving nothing to distract from her cute features.

  The front of his tuxedo pants tightened as his cock swelled. He’d love to bend her over the table. But the daughter of a judge, and sister of a state representative, didn’t deserve to be manhandled by a former convict. He frowned and watched her. Why the hell was she cutting hair in his shop? And why had she run away from her family?

  She came over and leaned her forearms on the back of the chair next to him. “You’re scowling,” she said with a smile. A fresh coat of a berry-colored lipstick enhanced the fullness of her lower lip.

  David chuckled. “He always scowls.”

  “It’s part of my charm,” Kareem said without any humor. “Are you ready to go?”

  Neecie frowned and glanced at her watch. “I guess so.”

  The music changed—one of the sappy songs from the Love Poems album she’d made him listen to the day before. Her eyes lit up, and a hopeful smile spread across her face.

  “I love this song,” she said and held out her hand. “You can dance with me at least once before we go.”

  Kareem raised an eyebrow and looked at her hand. “I don’t dance.”<
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  “Oh, come on, Kareem. Just one dance.”

  She bounced just a little then bit her bottom lip. Her enthusiasm nearly made him smile—the eternal romantic. For a split second he wished he were a guy who wrote sappy love poems and knew how to be romantic.

  David rose from his chair. “Don’t waste your time, Neecie. Kareem would rather cut off his feet than dance.” David held out a hand. “Why don’t you take a turn with the more charming member of the family?”

  Neecie smiled at David, but disappointment hovered in her eyes. She peered at Kareem. “Do you mind?”

  Kareem shook his head. “Go ahead.”

  David led her out to the dance floor, pulled her into his arms, and swayed to the song. David kept a respectable distance between their bodies, still Kareem scowled. Neecie didn’t look right in David’s arms. If David wore dirty jeans and raggedy t-shirts he would still appear polished, whereas Neecie was bright, happy, full of sunshine—kind of like a daisy.

  Kareem ran his hand over his face. I’m losing my damn mind. Comparing a woman to a flower. A waiter with a tray of champagne passed his table. “Hold up,” Kareem called and waved the guy over. “I need another.”

  “You know they’re only dancing.” Sandra came from behind and sat in the chair next to him.

  Kareem pushed away the champagne and sat up in his chair. The off shoulder cream dress all the bridesmaids wore stopped above the knee of her long legs. If Neecie was a daisy, then Sandra was a rose—classy, poised, sophisticated. Kareem’s desire for her had faded, but he still noticed her go-on-forever legs when she crossed them and turned his way.

  Kareem cleared his throat. “I’m not worried. David knows better than to screw up what he has.”

  Sandra chuckled, and the husky sound brought smile to his lips. “I think David and I have played that game enough.” She reached over to softly hit his shoulder. “Look, I know yesterday with Legions Bank was a setback. I hope you’re not going to give up on your idea.”

  Kareem shook his head. “Not going to happen.” He glanced at Neecie and David. “I think I found a contact in Charlotte who can help me expand.”