When the Smoke Clears (Interracial Firefighter Romance) (27 page)

He confessed that moment and others, and by the end of his stories, my eyes watered and I knew that he’d cracked away at the wall I’d been trying to build between us.

By three in the morning, we decided, finally, to say goodnight.

It took twenty more minutes for us to get off the phone. And, by the time we hung up, my sheets smoothed wet against my butt, and my fingers went for round two.

I had to have him.

Chapter 18

Lorenzo

F
orget
about Cicely and focus on Kassie. I only have time to deal with my own demons.

Early that Friday, my whole body buzzed in anticipation. Finally, I would have Kassie to myself for several hours and with no distraction. I’d wrapped my head around all the places I could take her. She wasn’t a Netflix and Chill type of girl—the sort of girl I invited to the house under the lure of a home cooked meal, when really I just needed her on the couch with a movie on, and my tongue would be between her thighs before the film’s climax.

No. Kassie is different.

I had to take the time to figure out, if we could work. Cicely had taught me the biggest lesson of my life that night in front of her hotel room. I couldn’t spend time around women like that. I couldn’t surround myself with people whose only goal in life was to destroy themselves and drag me down with them.

I needed something more for me. I needed something more for my girls.

Kassie had loved the beach the last time we were there. I decided have a picnic on a private patch of land that my buddy owned on Anna Marie Island. He was a snowbird—only lived in Sarasota during the winter months. The rest of the year, he worked in New York. I checked on his place weekly, grabbed his mail, and did lawn care. For my time and energy, he gave me permission to spend time at the place, while he was away.

I’d never taken anyone out to his place besides the twins. We barbecued there on July 4
th
, just us three. Tonight, I would take Kassie. We would have a perfect view of the sunset and a white sandy beach all to our self.

All Friday morning, I’d been running around Sarasota, buying special cheeses and sausages, picking out flowers, and shopping for any last minute things I could think of. Never had I spent this much time preparing for a date. I didn’t have to with other women, or maybe I just didn’t care.

Everything had to be perfect.

Now I was at my last stop. My mom’s house. I rummaged through the attic for about twenty minutes, before she realized I was up there.

Mom’s voice filled the air. “Why are you in my attic, boy?”

“I’m looking for that picnic basket you borrowed from me and never gave back.”

Her footsteps came next as she pulled her little self-up the ladder. “That is
my
picnic basket. You said I could have it.”

“After you decided not to return it. I wanted to borrow it for tonight. I’m dating somebody and she would probably really dig the carvings on the side.”

Mom waved away the dust in front of her face and coughed a little. She was such a little woman next to her kids. Barely five feet tall, she had pale skin that was delicate in the sun. Freckles dotted her cheeks and bushels of red hair fell past her shoulders. When I was a kid, people were always trying to figure out how were related and shocked to learn she was my mother.

“A new woman?” She coughed some more. “What club does she dance at this time?”

“Why does she have to dance at a club?”

“Because every time you introduce me to one, she’s danced in some club without her clothes.”

“I haven’t brought any women around you in a long time.”

“I know. I’ve been enjoying that.” She pointed to the large shelf to the right of me. “The picnic basket is over there. And why do you need a basket?”

“Because it’s a picnic, Mom. I thought that would be obvious.”

“And so you’re going to the big trouble of getting a basket?”

“It’s a picnic.”

“You need to focus on those girls of yours. They’re growing up fast and they’re starting to have tons of questions and no woman to ask them.”

“They can ask me.”

“Not these questions.”

“They don’t feel comfortable asking you or their aunts?” I asked.

“No. They need their mom.”

I blew out a long breath. “There mom is still trying to get it together.”

“Why do I always think there is more to the story, when you discuss Cicely?”

“I have no idea.” The last thing Mom needed to know about was the current horrific state my ex-wife was in. Mom knew Cicely had battled drugs, but had figured that she was getting better. Like everyone else, she stomached the whole Peace Corp excuse, never understanding why Cicely still had not seen her kids in all these years.

“Is Cicely really coming this summer to get the girls?”

“Yes. If she can afford it and get time off.”

“Humph.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“A new woman?” And then Mom muttered under her breath, “You should be looking for a stripper pole not a basket.”

“Really? I don’t date strippers anymore. That’s a bad rumor and can I say that there are lovely women. I just haven’t met the good ones.”

“Humph. So what does this one do?”

I headed over to the shelf that she’d pointed at. “She’s a writer.”

“Oh really?” Her green eyes brightened. “What does she write?”

“Romance.”

Her expression perked up more. Curiosity lit her gaze. “Romance. What’s her name?”

I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Are you still reading trashy novels?”

“No way, boy. You see them bibles in the living room? That’s all I read these days. It’s nothing but me and the Lord.”

What Kassie writes would make a Bible explode. I went rock hard over The Wench’s Tail, and I haven’t even made it to the second chapter yet. Jesus, the woman can write.

I moved two huge boxes labeled
Christmas decorations
and set them on the floor. Now with the boxes gone, I had the room needed to grab the basket from the top shelf. “If all you do is read your Bible, then you definitely won’t know her.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s her name?”

“Kassandra Jones.”

“Oh Jesus, Joseph, and Mary! Did you say Kassandra Jones?
The Wench’s Tail
?”

I rose from the box and gave her a curious look. “Really, Mom?”

She straightened her face, but there was no denying that she jumped around inside of herself. Anytime Mom got excited she tapped her foot over and over, and in that moment, her toe was a tapping. “
Kassandra Jones
?”

I got the basket and put everything back where I found it. “My sweet little catholic mother reads erotica?”

“No. But she does. . .sound familiar. I think one of your sisters tried to make me read that book one time. I never touched it. But did you say
Kassandra Jones
?”

“Yes.”

“Kassandra Jones?”

“Yes.” Shaking my head, I picked everything up and passed her. “Lying is a sin, Mom.”

“You’re going on a date with Kassandra Jones?”

“Yes.” I climbed out of the attic.

She followed behind me. “Maybe you should bring her by the house, first.”

“Why?”

“Because your sisters probably have some questions.”

“What would they have questions about?”

“Well, first of all, she hasn’t written anything in a year and a half. It’s been a two year wait on the sequel to Hot Seduction. I have no idea. . .I mean. . .your sister Tina has no idea if Rodrick even made it out of the explosion or not. And what about his marriage with Aubrey?”

“
Only read the bible
my behind.” I arrived in the living room. “I’m actually embarrassed for you.”

“Why?”

I smirked at her. “All you do is read the Bible, huh?”

“You’re not perfect, either.”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who told a lie.”

“I might’ve checked out some of her stories. She writes fabulous stories about women and they talk about more than sex. She writes about women like me.”

My face twisted with disgust. “Who are having tons of sex, by the way?”

“Well, I do have five kids. Clearly, I’m not a virgin.”

“Oh God. Let’s not, Mom.” I headed toward the front door.

“I wasn’t going to say anything about my sex life.”

“I’d rather you not say the words
sex life
at all.”

“Well, we all have one,” she yelled back at me. “Mine is probably hotter than yours.”

“La! La! La! La!” I tightened my grip around the basket and rushed out of there. “I can’t hear you! I can’t hear you!”

“Lorenzo Samuel Hornsby.”

I paused and turned around. “Yes, ma’am.”

She stood in the open door way, commanding all of my attention. “Is there something you’re not telling me about Cicely? All these years and she hasn’t visited them once.”

“I have this handled.”

Mom didn’t reprimand me or seem to have anything more to say. “I’ll pray for her then.”

“Let’s hope that helps.” Deep inside I’d lost all faith with her situation. In fact, I’d been ignoring the topic as much as possible, pouring all of my energy into Kassie and touching that lovely body again.

“Hope and Faith are asking about her. You should at least figure out a way for them to see her. Maybe take them to her.”

“Maybe?”

A weary sadness fell on her eyes. “I don’t know, Son. I’m not sure what anyone could do in a situation like this. I just know that they haven’t seen their mother since they were tiny little girls. Girls need their mothers, even if they’re not worth two pennies. They need to see what they came from. If not, they could end up feeling lost and afraid.”

Suddenly, all of my hopeful energy dissipated into stress. Cicely was in no shape to meet the twins. I had no idea what to do about it all.

Rubbing my eyes, I waved at Mom. “I’ll see you later.”

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes. Let me think about it.”

“Do more than that. Life is short.”

Life is short. Especially for Cicely.

Mom cleared her throat. “And could you ask Mrs. Jones when she’s going to release the sequel?”

“Oh, god. Good day, Mom. Have fun reading
your bible
, tonight.”

Chapter 19

Kassie

S
top
worrying? Conquer the fear.

I stood in front of my closet, attempting to figure out what to wear. Yet, terror gripped every cell.

Calm down. You’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen? Either he is going to break my heart into pieces or he’s going to be the best man I’ve ever had.

I sighed and searched through my dresses.

Even if he ends up being a jerk off, he’s going to provide amazing material for my romances.

Another hour passed. Rich chilled on my bed, playing a game on my phone and telling me fart jokes. I rummaged through the piles of dresses and shoes I’d laid out on the floor. By then, I’d shampooed and conditioned my dreadlocks. They now lay in curlers all over my hair. I planned to get under my hair dryer and read a new bestseller I’d bought.

“So you’re going on a date?” Rich continued to play his game, but I knew something was biting at him. He’d been tapping his feet the whole time laying on the bed.

“It’s a date, but a first one. We’re still getting to know each other. Lorenzo and I are going to be friends and hang out for a few hours this evening.” I turned to him. “It takes time for mommy to get to know the person before she dates them.”

I’m so full of shit. I’m totally going to ride down the fire men’s pole tonight. I am a whore in the most beautiful sense. It’s pretty much his game to lose. As long as he doesn’t say or do anything too stupid, he’s getting lucky.

“How long?” Rich asked.

“What?”

“How long does it take for you to get to know someone?”

“Well,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Mommy hasn’t really talked to anybody since I’ve separated from your daddy. It’s been a year. So I guess it takes a while.”

Rich frowned. “But Daddy has a lot of girlfriends.”

A harem, if we’re being truthful. And he’s had those twats since we were married.

I forced a smile. “Daddy and I do things differently.”

He’s a man-whore and mommy is pretty much the virgin Mary when she stands next to him. This is why we moved to Sarasota, so you wouldn’t see all of his womanizing ways and choose that life.

“Do you like Lorenzo?” Rich paused from the game and stared at me.

“So far, I think he is a pretty cool guy, but like I said, I take my time to get to know people, as you always should.”