In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (25 page)

On the plane, Alexis was settled in, pillows cushioning her rear as she sat on her side, engaging me in a game of electronic chess on my iPad. We’d just gotten started minutes after taking our seats. With her left arm tucked under my shoulder, she used her right to tap her moves. I was impressed by her increased confidence in plays.

Passengers were still boarding when the attendant appeared asking for our drink order. I declined and Alexis requested a rum and coke without looking, she was so engrossed in the game.

When the steward left, my beloved’s wild eyes, which had now returned to their natural shade, glanced up. “I hope you don’t mind. I need a drink after the morning I’ve had, starting with your surprise visit.”

“I don’t mind at all, beloved,” I offered quickly, not wanting to restrict her in any way.

I’d still been turning over her response in the shower to me, not exactly missing her while she’d been away. I also guessed she could use a sedative after that emotional explosion with her friend and breakthrough with me. After we dressed, without much time to spare, we had to find Tasche to retrieve Alexis’ luggage that was left in the restaurant and turn in her key. Right after, we jumped in a cab and headed for the airport. We hadn’t talked much, more focused on not missing our flight.

“Oh, y’all up here?” I heard exclaimed above me. “Y’all must’ve did flips to get here!” I glanced up and found Tasche. “I didn’t think we was gonna make it. That damn van was driving slow as hell, yo.”

Alexis cracked a smile that pleased and irritated me altogether. It was her first since leaving the restaurant and I hadn’t been the one to cause it.

“Girl, we hauled ass—” She glanced at me when she caught herself. I lifted a brow, still bitter about not being the one lifting her spirit, but would issue another round of punishment once we returned home if I had to. My beloved was still in training. “Butts...I mean, our butts here. We thought we was gonna miss the flight, too.”

Needing to move along, Tasche bent slightly to whisper, “Thanks for the extra seat...and it’s a window!” Then she tossed a glance over her shoulder before continuing, “But somebody behind me ain’t gonna be happy with
your
new seat,” before walking off.

Just then, the attendant brought the rum and coke. Alexis gulped down a generous portion before the cup landed on her tray. I followed as her eyes traveled up and turned hard. It was Nyree, glaring down on us. I caught her eyes bounce between the two of us and the small section we were in. Was she upset about us flying first class? I felt the heat rise from my neck, quickly becoming annoyed at the possibility of my wife being upset. Alexis needed to rest, not have me peel her off of a so-called friend. But to my relief, Nyree advanced down the aisle without a word. Pleased, my regard went back to the board to regain my place.

“Ummmm... Ezra?” I glanced over to find Alexis’ restless eyes. Her tongue darted to wet her top lip. I nodded, assuring my attention. My cock swelled in excitement. She swallowed nervously. “I’m going to accept the Social Services Coordinator position at
Christ Cares
.” Her eyes bounced between mine to read my reaction.

She totally missed the elation that expanded in my chest. The joy that burst in my belly at Alexis being made whole again, similar to the way she was when I met her. I had the God–given ability to see through people, to see ahead of them. My revelations concerning them would manifest, most often, before theirs of their own lives would. However, I continued to miss the mark on the woman who rested in my bed each night. The woman who effortlessly had become my addiction in no time. The one who had me consider and then reconsider day after day.

I grossly underestimated my beloved; I’d been learning week by week since making her my wife. Alexis’ independent streak was essential to her being, no matter how well I was able to care for her. It was a part of her organic framework. She needed to work. More specific, her passion was in helping others. No wonder she’d been so emotionally unstable over the past month or so: she hadn’t been whole. Pride for her echoed throughout my entire frame, but somehow none of these sentiments were able to surface on my face or leave my mouth. I still felt the need to manage her expectations of me. So, it was natural for me to remain neutral.

“I am well pleased. Your move, beloved,” I called Alexis’ attention back to the game.

I noticed it the moment I passed over the threshold. My eyelids collapsed and I sighed. My clothes were soiled and I was just catching my breath from a rigorous workout out back.

“Alexis!” I called out behind me, in the event she was in the area. “The bed!”

How many times would I need to tell this woman the bed must be made daily? There were days she complied, and on occasion, like today, she didn’t. As much as I wouldn’t trade sharing a bed with her for anything in the world, this one thing irritated me to no end. To me, it was a character reflection. Made beds tell of order and organization: two things I thrived on.

“Calm down, Pastor!” My attention flew to the en suite bathroom door. “I haven’t left the room yet.” Alexis craned her neck out the doorframe as she twisted her hair.

I held back my fighting grin. Alexis could sure be sassy. And this late morning she was the queen of sass, apparently. It frustrated and thrilled me all at once, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I thought you’d regressed this morning,” I attempted to explain, noting her heather gray clad thighs and an oversized white cotton tee that exposed her sienna shoulder.

Those legs
. I felt myself thickening in the crotch.

“Well, I haven’t. Just moving around slow today. I have lots to do.” She rolled her eyes and turned back into the bathroom.

I was able to catch a wiggle from her hind cheeks and something hit me. I moved to enter the bathroom behind her where I saw hair products laid out on the vanity. The shirt fell just above her rear, baring the perfect apple of her bottom.

“Is that what you’re planning to wear today?” I murmured, watching her twist her hair in the mirror.

Alexis’ eyes fell to inspect her attire.

“What’s wrong with what I have on?”

“We’re hosting guests today, beloved.”

“Yes. Here at the house. I don’t want to get dressed up just to serve your parents lunch.” Her brows knitted.

“I don’t expect you to dress formally either; however, something less revealing would be more appropriate,” I advised, my tone leveled.

Alexis glanced down her body once more. “I don’t see any skin or cleavage showing. How is this inappropriate?” I detected defensiveness in her inquisition.

It was finally here. The moment I had to address the issue of modesty and decorum with my wife. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary, considering her role in my life. This was more difficult than the time I had to pull aside a musician, Bernard, from one of our smaller churches here in Jersey.

His pastor had been getting complaints about his peculiar ensemble selections and radical performances. He spoke with him privately about toning down his eccentric and effeminate costume choices after having a candid conversation regarding gender roles and cultural issues. I had no reason to believe Bernard was homosexual. I understood he was simply stretching the bounds of his artistic nature as it concerned his appearance. After the conversation, Bernard toned down his wardrobe, yet amped up his performances. For this, I was called in. After warming up to him to reveal his heart, his true nature, I was able to introduce him to the concept of performing to minister rather that to entertain. A musician is always entertaining, but for an ambassador of the Kingdom, ministry should never get lost in entertainment. People should walk away from the art form with the spirit of Christ embedded in their hearts, not the ambassador’s appearance or physical influence. Thankfully, Bernard was able to understand that and make adjustments.

Now, my beloved
…

Women are delicate. No matter how confident she is, no woman wants to feel inadequate in the eyes of her man. I didn’t want to rebuke, so much as I wanted to feed into her wisdom that would improve her conduct.

I sidled up behind her, rested my chin on her shoulder, yet out of the way of the side of her head she was working on. “Just because you’re not showing skin doesn’t mean you’re not giving off too much of your femininity. Femininity that belongs to just you and me. When you’re hosting, while it’s wonderful to appear relaxed in an effort to make your guests comfortable as well, you don’t want your most relaxed state to be shared with non-residents.”

“So what are you saying, Ezra?” she asked, distrusting.

“I’m saying, you’re an incredibly well figured woman, and to my delight. I don’t want to share the sight of your glory with my father or any man, no more than I do your essence. It is for my eyes only. The same goes for my mother. I don’t want her familiar with curves and peaks meant for my enjoyment and enticement only. You’re all mine, beloved. No one else’s.”

Alexis’ eyes fell and shoulders shrank in defeat. “So, what do you want me to wear?”

“I don’t have a preference for your appearance…outside of your taunting nakedness.” I let up off of her and backed away, preparing to leave the room. “You’re an adult, Alexis. You wear what you wish, just don’t reveal my treasures while you’re doing it.” I tapped her firm yet incredibly yielding rear cheek.

“Ezra!” she shrieked, half thrilled by my play.

“Don’t call my name like that, kitten,” I warned, hearing the groan in my words while glaring at her through the mirror. “I have enough time to take you before our guests arrive.” 

Though her eyes expressed otherwise, Alexis brazenly declared, “Yeah, a’ight. I’ve been PMS’ing for two days now,” she advised going back to her hair dismissively. “My period may have started already.”

“Don’t think your monthly dispelling is enough to keep me off of you. If you think I’d flinch at the prospect, you’re sorely mistaken, kitten.” I growled, instinctively. “I told you, it belongs to me even when you’re bleeding.”

Alexis’ mouth dropped, she gulped in a heap of air as I exited the bathroom.  

Now showered and having made several phone calls and sent emails for work and the church, I wondered how things were developing for lunch. Before marrying Alexis, I’d have my housekeeper prepare meals for guests on the rare occasion I’d have them—and I mean rare. The one time I hosted Alexis to introduce her to my home, I hired a caterer for the small event. Now, without hired help, I had to decide how I’d host my parents. They’d finally cornered me for a date to visit the home I now shared with my wife. I was grateful for Alexis insisting on her and Ms. Remah preparing the food and setting the deck for it. I’d still been trying to avoid stepping on the territorial toes of women.

Leaving my office, I decided to see how the ladies were getting along, preparing for my parents in just a couple of hours. I sauntered down the hall, en route to the kitchen where I heard Alexis and Ms. Remah going at it. 

“Yuh make frittatas? Why?” Ms. Remah asked.

“I ‘on’t know. All bourgeois people like them, I guess. His parents shouldn’t be any different.”

Ms. Remah huffed. “Yuh nervous, yuhnuh. Yuh shouldn’t worry, gyal.”

“I’m not nervous…I don’t think,” Alexis whined, lacking confidence.

“Yuh nervous. Me dun’t nuh why. Da man love yuh, yuhnuh. Dat’s all dat matters.”

Alexis sputtered a laugh, heartily. The humor she found in Ms. Remah’s statement was lost upon me.