More Than He Can Handle (16 page)

Stuffed from a lunch of fried chicken breast sandwiches with cheese and onions, fried potatoes covered with hot mustard and vinegar, and thick slices of chocolate cake, Freddie and Lillian lay on the floor listening to John Coltrane. Freddie closed her eyes, feeling as if every calorie of their sinful lunch had settled on her stomach.

“We overdid it,” she moaned.

“Who are you telling? I haven't eaten like that in years. The last thing I want is to get fat before Louis gets me pregnant.”

“I should've known that was next on the agenda for you. The perfect little family,” Freddie said with a laugh.

“What's wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I just wonder if you realize that things don't always work out the way you plan them. I never planned to fall . . .”

Lillian propped up on her elbows. “I knew it,” she shrieked. “I knew it! You're falling for Cleveland Alexander. Damn, Winfred, you're going to get your heart broken.”

“My heart will be fine. When this week is over, Cleveland and I will go back to our lives and that will be the end of whatever this is,” she said.

“What is this that you and Cleveland have going on?” Lillian asked. “And don't say it's nothing. You're starting to care for him.”

Freddie shrugged. She wasn't ready to admit the obvious and she didn't want to hear Lillian go on and on about what a bad guy Cleveland was. Lillian didn't have a clue as to what kind of man Cleveland Alexander was.

“I can't explain what's going on with me and Cleveland, but I'm tired of trying to defend it to you, though.” Freddie sat up on the floor. “So, I'm going to go back to his place and wait for him to come home so I can burn off some of the calories we just ate.”

“Please, spare me the details.”

Slowly Freddie rose from the floor. “But,” she said. “Before I go back to his place, you know there is something we need to do. You know that boutique near Lenox Mall? I want to go there.”

A slow grin spread across Lillian's face. “I can't believe you. You're going to buy some lingerie. And I'm going to help you. This is crazy.”

“If you pick up something for yourself, you and Louis might be making that baby sooner rather than later,” Freddie quipped as she and Lillian prepared to leave.

Three hours later, Lillian and Freddie had purchased enough lingerie to put on their own version of the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show.

“I think I went a little overboard,” Lillian said as she picked up a black, lace see-through teddy that was going to leave little to the imagination when she put it on. “Louis is going to think I lost my mind.”

Freddie smiled, thinking of the reaction she'd get from Cleveland tonight when she greeted him at the door in the sexy red satin bustier and matching thong she'd purchased. “Well, I'd better go. I want to beat Cleveland home.”

Lillian grunted. “I still say this is the biggest mistake of your life.”

“Whatever, Lil. I'm not trying to marry the man, all right. Unlike you, my goal in life has never been to be a wife.”

“That's a lie. Exhibit one, you are the same person who has a wedding book. You picked out that ugly dress with the bell sleeves because you wanted an October wedding.”

“How old were we when we made those books?” Freddie said. “Just because you kept yours it doesn't mean I have mine. Besides, Katrina washed that book away.”

Lillian covered her mouth with her hand. “I keep forgetting how much you've lost. Thank God you had that hotel, huh?”

Freddie groaned as she pulled on her collar. “I don't want to think or talk about that place. Sometimes I think that I'm being punished for what my father did. Loraine doesn't want anything to do with the hotel, except to spend the profits. For years, she ignored that place until I turned it around.”

“Maybe she thought having a Barker run the place would make people forget that it was a Babineaux property. Of course she couldn't be the face. Everyone knows she used to be married to your dad.”

Freddie sighed. “I saw him, Lillian. Cleveland and I found him in Pass Christian.”

“What? What did he have to say for himself? I've never understood why you've chased after that man. He's a criminal, and he left you and your mother destitute and with your reputation tattered. What possible reason would you have to want to find or talk to him?”

“You can't understand. Your father died, but you got a chance to know he loved you and his name isn't cursed by everyone in New Orleans. Maybe I was thinking that if I had a conversation with the man, I could understand why he left and why he did what he did.”

“What happens if Cleveland finds out that . . .”

Freddie threw her hand up. “He isn't Marcus. Cleveland doesn't even know about the bounty and he's not going to find out.”

“What if he does?” Lillian asked as she pulled out more of her lingerie. “Can you be sure that he won't sell your father out for a million dollars? I know for a fact that Atlanta firemen don't make a lot of money.”

Chewing on her lip out of nervous habit, Freddie shook her head, but a little voice inside her told her that she didn't know for sure that Cleveland wouldn't sell her out. “Let me go,” she said. “I hear Atlanta traffic is murder.”

“Definitely makes you want to commit one,” she said as she walked Freddie to the door. “Be careful. That's the last thing I'm going to say on the subject.”

Freddie and Lillian hugged then Freddie dashed down the stairs and hoped she would make it home before Cleveland did.
Why do I consider his place home? I shouldn't be that comfortable with him and in his place,
she thought as she drove.
I'm not falling in love with this man. It will never work. It's just physical. Just physical.

When Freddie arrived at Cleveland's house, she had just enough time to shower, change, and cook him a light meal. Rushing up to the bathroom, she took a shower. Standing underneath the five-speed showerhead, Freddie lost track of time and before she knew it, Cleveland was slipping into the shower behind her. He took her breasts into his big hands.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he breathed against her neck.

She moaned in response. “What are you doing here?”

Cleveland spun her around and slipped one hand between her thighs. “Making you very happy,” he said as he parted her wet folds of skin. With his finger, he sought out her tender bud. Freddie melted against him as his fingers found her sexual center. Cleveland moved his finger in a come-hither motion and her knees buckled. “This isn't how things were supposed to happen,” she whispered. “I was supposed to surprise you.”

“Surprise,” he said, then slipped on a condom and pulled her onto his erection. Then he captured her lips and kissed her until she felt heady with desire. She parted her legs and Cleveland molded her body around his. She burned and yearned to feel him inside her and to make her need known as she ground against him. She was so wet that Cleveland was drawn in. The heat from the shower and their bodies made them feel as if they were going to explode. He pressed her against the wall of the shower, slowly pumping in and out and palmed her breasts, tweaking her hard nipples and pushing her over the edge. Her body shook as he hit her spot time and time again. Freddie bit down on his neck, muffling her screams of passion. As the warm water beat down on them, they both reached their climax, exploding from the inside out.

Cleveland reached back and shut the shower off, then he smiled at Freddie. “I've never had a shower like that before.”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips, “You ruined my surprise.”

“I couldn't resist. I heard the shower going as I came upstairs.” Cleveland scooped her up in his arms and stepped out of the shower. Freddie wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. Could she be falling for this man? She took one of his damp locs between her fingers. How did this happen? How did she let herself fall for this man?

“Hey,” Cleveland said. “Why don't we go out to dinner? Houston's?”

“Okay, but let's have dessert in,” she said then smiled seductively.

“You don't have to tell me twice. But I have to warn you, I'm on call this evening and I may have to go back to the station,” he said as he sat her down on the bed.

“Okay,” she said, feeling a little disappointed that she was possibly going to have to share him with the City of Atlanta. “I forgot that you're a superhero.”

“That's right,” he said, winking at her. “Up, up and away.”

Freddie laughed as Cleveland made swooshing sounds as if he were flying.

After they dried each other's bodies and dressed, they headed to the restaurant. Instead of going downtown, they headed for the location that had just opened up on Covington Highway.

“Atlanta's constantly growing,” Freddie commented as they passed construction sites. “Does this make your job harder, all the new communities and what not?”

“Only when you can't find a new street on the GPS system. Our system is one of the fastest and growing.”

Freddie nodded. “So, why did you become a firefighter?”

Cleveland smiled wistfully. “It's the family business, though my mother was hoping that I'd be the one to pick another career path.”

“Why? It seems like such a noble thing to do.”

Cleveland exhaled. “It's noble and dangerous. We lost my father to a fire. He was a fireman. And he was the closest thing to a hero that I've ever knew. For Darren and me this was the best way to honor him. Then last year, I got hurt in an explosion and my mother wanted Darren and me to quit. But we've been doing this for so long, we don't know how to do anything else.”

“Wow,” Freddie said. “Your mother must go out of her mind every time there is a fire.”

Cleveland nodded. “Especially after that big fire at that warehouse in Charleston. It's a risk, but anything that's worth having or doing is worth taking a risk over.”

Freddie didn't say anything. She wondered if she should take a risk on Cleveland? He was worth having, but she didn't know if she could be happy in Atlanta. Would he move to New Orleans and help her rebuild her tattered life?

Do I really want to rebuild in New Orleans?
she thought as he pulled into the restaurant's parking lot. As they got out of the car and Cleveland wrapped his arm around her waist, Freddie seriously considered taking the risk to love him and leave everything that had been destroyed behind.

I could be happy with Cleveland. I really think I could,
she thought as she stared into his gray eyes.

After dinner, Cleveland and Freddie headed back to his place, but before they could have dessert, Cleveland was called to the station to take over for a fireman that had gotten sick. It was a quiet night, but Darren didn't want to take any chances by being short-handed.

As he headed out the door, Freddie told him that she understood. She was, however, disappointed that he wouldn't see her naughty fashion show, which she knew would knock him off his feet. Seeing Cleveland in his element and so dedicated to his job, she had to wonder why Lillian didn't see this side of him. He was a fun-loving and sexy man, but he had a tender side. That's what scared Freddie, because she couldn't write him off or lump him in the same group as her father. It was hard for her to admit that Cleveland was a good man. Admitting that would almost be like giving herself permission to fall in love with him.

This isn't good,
she thought as she paced back and forth in the living room.
I can't fall in love.

Freddie's cell phone rang as she headed upstairs to Cleveland's bedroom. She dashed back down the stairs and grabbed the phone. The caller ID said that the caller was unknown. She knew who it was when she pressed the talk button.

“Hello?”

“Chere, it's your father.”

“What do you want?” she asked as she sat at the base of the stairwell.

“Well, I told you that I was going to get back with you and try to see you.”

Freddie rolled her eyes. “And that was last week. What, do you have more lies to tell me about my mother?”

“Listen, I'm in New Orleans because I'm tired of running and I wanted to let you know that I'm going to tell the authorities the truth.”

“The truth? Do you even have a clue what the truth is? It's unbelievable to me that my mother is a murderer.”

“Believe what you want to believe, chere, but the truth is, I thought I was making your life and your mother's life better by taking the blame for what she did. I had no idea who that dead man was at first.”

“That doesn't make a difference. You're still a part of this murder. You and mom.”

“I was trying to protect you all,” he said.

“That's what you say, but how do I know that's the truth?”

“I need to see you before I turn myself in.”

“That's going to be hard. I'm in Atlanta.”

“With that Rasta boy I saw you with?” His voice was filled with fatherly concern. Freddie had to laugh.

“Don't you think it's a little too late to play ‘daddy'? I don't need you to approve who I date. When I needed that kind of stuff, you were on the run.”

“And what would you rather have happened? Me spend the rest of my life in prison and you grow up thinking that I was a murderer?”

“Wouldn't have made a difference. At least if you were in prison I would've known where you were.” Freddie was tempted to snap her phone shut and close her father out of her life, but she had to know what he had to say for himself.

“How do you know he isn't like the other one?” Jacques asked.

“Because he isn't. You do know what your lies are going to do to Mother, don't you?”

“What about what your mother's lies have cost me? I've been running for a long time. Do you think it's been easy for me? All of this has been hell and the worst part of it is that I missed seeing you grow up and become the woman that you are.”

“Don't give me that bullshit,” Freddie exclaimed. “You made your choices.”

“I'm telling you for the last time, I'm not guilty.”

Unable to listen to any more of her father's lies, she slammed the phone shut and threw it against the wall. Tears of frustration poured down her cheeks. Part of her wanted to call her mother and ask her if any of Babineaux's claims were true. Then again, her mother had never been forthcoming with information about her father.

Sitting on the base of the stairwell, Freddie allowed tears of frustration to spill down her cheeks. She was no closer to finding out the truth about her family.

Wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, Freddie decided to busy herself by picking up Cleveland's discarded clothes, hoping that it would give her something else to think about.

As she picked up his jacket, a folded piece of paper fell out. Curiosity got the best of her and she unfolded it. Reading the words jabbed her in the heart. She was wrong, she'd misjudged who Cleveland was. It was like finding out about Marcus all over again.

Son of a bitch,
she thought as she took the Crime.com story and ran upstairs. Freddie stuffed her bags with her clothes and the lingerie that she'd purchased. Anger coursed though her veins and heated her blood. She had to get out of there before Cleveland returned or she would be tempted to reach into her glove compartment, get her gun and use it for the first time ever. Why did she think Cleveland wouldn't find out about her father? But to hide this from her, did it mean that he was going for the money?
Bastard!

Freddie, once she was packed, dashed out of the house, not bothering to lock the front door, and headed for Lillian's. Though she didn't want to hear “I told you so,” she needed her friend. She just hoped that Louis wasn't at home.

 

 

Cleveland and Roland rolled up the fire hose after putting out a bushfire near Peachtree Industrial. It was nearly two
A.M.
and this had been their first call of the night. Nights like this were a firefighter's dream. No death, no serious property loss and limited danger.

“That woman still in your house?” Roland asked as they hopped onto the truck.

“Yep.”

He shook his head. “The death of a playa. Can't believe you got that chick in your house and you're not there. What if one of your freaks from way back call?”

“I don't do booty calls, so that's not an issue or a problem.”

“Whatever. Cleveland, what's so special about this woman?”

The driver started the loud engine and over the rumbling, Cleveland said, “I don't know. She's the one.”

“What?” Roland called out.

Cleveland shook his head. He wasn't going to try and explain his relationship with Freddie to Roland. Cleveland knew he wouldn't understand it, because he barely had a grasp of what was going on between them himself. Although they'd been trying to pretend that they only had a physical relationship, Cleveland knew it was deeper than that. Talking to her was so easy, it felt as if she was listening and not just waiting to put her two cents in the conversation.

Freddie was smart, witty, and he loved her sarcasm. So many women he met didn't have a clue how to hold a real conversation. But Freddie kept him on his toes and he loved that. At times he felt as if she was just a little more than he could handle. But these last few days with her, Cleveland knew that she was just right for him. He couldn't wait to end his shift and get home to her.

One day, this is going to be a permanent arrangement,
he thought with a smile on his lips.

 

 

Freddie pulled up to Lillian's house and sat in the driveway. She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel. Did she really want to go in there and listen to Lillian's tirade about Cleveland and a laundry list of I-told-you-sos?

How could she have made such a gross misjudgment of Cleveland Alexander? Was it always going to be like this? Was every man going to see her as a lottery ticket? How long had Cleveland known about the bounty on her father? Was he trying to use her to get information about her father so that he could collect the reward?

Damn it, lightning is not supposed to strike twice,
she thought as she called Lillian from her cell phone.

“Hello?” Lillian said, her voice thick with sleep.

“Lil, it's me,” Freddie said. “I'm sorry to call you so late, but I need some place to stay tonight.”

“Okay, sure, come over. What happened with you and Cleveland?” she asked.

Freddie stepped out of the car and walked up the steps. “Open the door, I'm on the front porch.”

A few moments later, she head Lillian fumbling with the door locks. “That was fast.”

“I was calling from your driveway,” she said as she walked in.

“What if I would've been making a baby tonight?”

Freddie shrugged, she was in no mood to joke with Lillian. “Just show me where I'm crashing and I'll be out of your hair in the morning.”

Lillian touched Freddie's elbow. “What happened? One of his other women showed up at the front door? Don't say I didn't tell you that . . .”

“Lil, please,” Freddie exclaimed. “I don't need this shit right now.”

“Well, I-I . . . Let me get you a blanket and a pillow,” she said then headed upstairs.

“I'm sorry,” Freddie called after her. “It happened again.”

Lillian bounced down the stairs. “What happened?”

“Cleveland must have done some investigating and found out about my father. Tonight, after he went back to work, I was picking up his clothes and found this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the story from Crime.com.

“That rotten bastard,” Lillian said as she read over the story. “So, it's Marcus all over again.”

Tears sprang into Freddie's eyes, but she refused to cry. “I can't believe how wrong I was about him. It's just that he made me feel so . . . It doesn't matter, I'm going back to New Orleans in the morning and Cleveland Alexander will become a distant memory.” She started to tell her friend that Jacques was back in the Crescent City and wanted to see her. Instead, she didn't say another word and Lillian went upstairs to get her a blanket and pillow.

As Freddie settled on her friend's sofa, she buried her face in the pillow and cried silently. How could she have been so close to falling in love with a man who was only out to betray her?

 

 

Cleveland didn't usually leave the fire station in the middle of the night, but he wanted and needed to see Freddie. They still had dessert to eat. The thought of her lying in his bed, sound asleep in something sexy, turned him on as he drove. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he kissed her lips and woke her up. As he pulled into his driveway, Cleveland noticed that his front door was ajar. He brought the car to an abrupt stop and slowly exited. His heart raced as thoughts of a robber or rapist being in the house with Freddie danced in his mind.
Dear God, please let her be all right,
he thought as he quietly pushed the door open. He grabbed an umbrella, which was at the door, and called out for Freddie.

Silence greeted him. Looking around the house, he saw that nothing looked as if it had been disturbed. Cleveland turned all of the lights on in every room he passed as he headed up the stairs.

“If anybody is in here, I have a gun,” he said in a gruff voice. Cleveland walked into the bedroom. “Freddie!” He turned the light on. Looking around the room, he noticed that the only thing missing, other than Freddie, was her luggage.

“What in the hell is going on?” he muttered as he grabbed his phone from the night stand next to his bed. Cleveland was about to dial 9-1-1, then he reversed his decision and called Lillian. It was becoming clearer to him that Freddie hadn't been kidnapped, but had more than likely left on her own accord.

“What do you want?” Lillian snapped.

“Have you seen Freddie?” he asked, not bothering to say hello.

“So what if I have?” she said.

“I walked into my house and the door was open and Freddie isn't here.”

“There's no need for you to worry about her or seeing her again, you ass.”

Cleveland furrowed his brows. “What's with the attitude?”

The next thing Cleveland heard was the dial tone. Slamming the phone into the base, Cleveland swore loudly. “What in the hell is going on?” he exclaimed. Without giving a second thought to Lillian's attitude, Cleveland rushed downstairs and out to his car. Freddie was going to tell him what was going on and why she left.