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  When it was almost eight, she turned from the guest she’d been talking to and found Lillith, who was writing a receipt out for the last purchase of the night.

  “We sold over a dozen pieces. For a relatively unknown artist, that’s great. It bodes well for the rest of the show. We also had a great turnout.”

  “Well, I had a lot of my friends come in tonight.”

  “Keep them coming.”

  “I will. I made cards to send out to everyone I know and everyone I’ve ever worked with and everyone I’ve ever taken classes from. If there are any left over, I’ll hand them out to strangers on the street.”

  “That’s great. Wait. Let me dim the lights so people know it’s time to go.”

  Lillith dimmed the lights and then brought them all the way up. The remaining guests started meandering toward the door, so Regina went to say good-night and hand out her business cards to them as they left. It was just after eight when she sought out the little group that had been waiting for her.

  “We’re going to have to cut out,” said Jason.

  “No, but you waited all this time,” she responded.

  “I know, but this one’s getting tired. He’s been getting a bit antsy.”

  She pursed her lips and fingered Kyle’s little tummy. “Is the little one tired?”

  “We’re gonna stop for some fast food and get him home.”

  “Okay.” She hugged Kyle, then Ellison, then Jason. “Thank you so much for coming tonight.”

  “I’m going, too,” said Amelie. “I have to be at Eastern Market tomorrow morning for setup.”

  She hugged Amelie. “Everybody’s going?”

  “Not me,” said Nigel, coming to place a hand on her back.

  “Did you do this? Did you chase my friends away?”

  He raised his hands in innocence.

  “Don’t look at me. Eight o’clock on a Friday. Folks are tired.”

  She smacked his shoulder playfully, not fully believing his story.

  Lillith came out and started wrapping up the cheese and crackers.

  “Can I stay to do anything?” asked Regina.

  “Nope. You’ve done your part. Head home. I’ll see you next week.”

  “Okay,” she said and hugged Lillith. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Good night, Regina. Good night, Mr. Johns.”

  They waved and headed to their cars.

  Nigel pressed his palm on the small of Regina’s back as they walked to her car. She was radiant in her shimmering gown, and it fit her body in a way that teased him with her every curve. It was her special night, and she looked it.

  But it was his night, too. His reentry into her life had gone much better than he had dared to hope. He had been ready to dispute, debate and rebut, but he didn’t have to. The bond between them had just been there.

  As beautiful as she looked tonight, he just wanted to take her out so that the world could see that she was with him. And as sexy as she looked tonight, he just wanted to take her home where she would be only his.

  “How do we do this?” she asked. “Should I follow you? Where are we going?”

  “We’re in Silver Spring. Let’s go park in the lot for the mall. They have restaurants over there.”

  “Okay. We’ll meet there.”

  They stayed close to one another on the road and parked next to each other in the lot.

  They decided on Italian food and entered the restaurant together.

  Over dinner, he kept smiling at her. She couldn’t help smiling back.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You missed me.”

  She swatted at him across the table, but he knew that she couldn’t rightly deny it. After this, they both knew that she was going home with him to make love. It wasn’t because he insisted; it was because she wanted him, too, even if she wouldn’t say it out loud.

  “And you love me,” he added.

  She raised her hand, and he could tell that she was about to tell him a thing or two about the assumptions he was making, but he cut in.

  “Don’t get all in a huff.” He smiled at her. “It’s okay if you don’t know it yet. And it’s okay if you want to pretend it’s not serious. I won’t rush you.”

  “Your smug, know-it-all attitude is starting to piss me off,” she said, but she couldn’t hold her angry tone and broke out in a smile. “I’ll correct you later. Right now, let’s enjoy our food and tonight.”

  He touched her arm. “Tonight.” He looked into her eyes, and the passion he saw there made him take a breath.

  “I want you, Reggie.”

  He took her hand.

  “Let’s finish eating first,” she said. She took a deep breath, and he could tell she was trying not to give herself away.

  He smiled. “Okay. So how did the show go?”

  “It went well. We sold over a dozen pieces.”

  “Congratulations, honey.”

  The rest of dinner was light conversation. Then they followed each other to his apartment.

  * * *

  They started kissing before the elevator door closed, and by the time they reached his floor, they were wrapped in each other’s arms. Nigel closed the door to his apartment and pressed her against it with his body. Regina could feel the full length of him.

  One of his hands came between them to cup her breast, and the other traveled up her thigh to grip her buttocks. She murmured against his lips, and in response, he parted her lips, and his low groan filled her mouth.

  She felt one of his legs come between hers and spread her thighs apart, and she opened for him, feeling his fingers begin to explore her through her clothes. She began to throb as his knuckles gently grazed the front of her gown, finding her center and sending tingles spreading throughout her body.

  She lifted herself onto her toes to try to feel more of him, and he lifted her from her feet against his body, her back pressed to the door. Heat filled her center as it pressed onto his, and she couldn’t help the moan that filled her throat and passed into his mouth.

  He let her down and drew her to the bedroom.

  She took off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. He unzipped her gown and sat on the edge of his bed, drawing her between his knees so that he could run his mouth over the fabric of her bra, licking her nipples into hard peaks while she gasped for air. When he ran his hand between her thighs and began to knead the wet slip of her panties, she bucked against his fingers and moaned.

  Regina wanted to play, as well. She pushed Nigel back onto the bed, unbuttoned his shirt and brought her lips to one of his nipples. Her soft bites made him writhe, but not enough, so she ran her hand along the front of his pants until his body was jerking with her every touch and his groan filled her ears.

  They stood to remove the rest of their clothes, and Nigel dug in his dresser for a condom. She took it from him. She sat on the edge of his bed and pulled him before her. She ran her hand over the hard ripples of his chest and down the firm line of his belly before opening the packet and taking out the slick disc. Then she rolled it onto him, and her mouth followed the path it had taken.

  He moaned and called her name, spreading his fingers into her hair. When he stepped back from her, his eyes were glazed with passion, and he exhaled deeply. He moved onto the bed, covering her body.

  “I want you, Reggie.”

  “I want you, too, Nigel.”

  She clung to his shoulders as he moved inside of her, finding her mouth again and filling her with his heat and his presence. He began to thrust against her, making her womanhood throb as his chest dragged along her breasts.

  Then he found the place that made her lunge against him, and his long prods became short thrusts, making her cry out and gasp, making pressure be
gin to build in her center because he was pushing her toward the edge.

  “Do you love me, Reggie?” he asked.

  She heard him as from afar.

  “Do you love me, Reggie?”

  At first she couldn’t answer; the pleasure mounting inside her blocked out rational thought, comprehensible language.

  “Do you love me?”

  Her body clenched.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love me?”

  She felt the first wave of her explosion moving through her.

  She cried out. “Yes.”

  “Do you love me?”

  She moved along him as she was pushed over the edge.

  “Yes, Nigel, yes.”

  Her sex began to quiver, and she pressed it against his length.

  “Yes, yes.”

  * * *

  Nigel felt Regina’s body grip his even tighter. Her hands pressed into his back. Her hips tilted upward to meet his. Her thrusts matched his.

  “Yes, Nigel.”

  Her answer was music to his ears, driving him toward the precipice. And once her voice was unleashed, she couldn’t seem to stop it; it had become a mantra.

  “Yes,” she said and cried out.

  Her legs began to shake at his hips, and her breath became short and labored.

  “I do. I need you. Please.”

  He felt her body grip on to his again.

  “Please what? I’ll do anything.”

  “Don’t stop.”

  “I won’t.”

  Her womanhood clamped around him, causing him to buck. He felt the waves of her contraction as it pulsed through her and along his manhood.

  “Yes,” she called out, “yes.”

  Nigel could only groan as he plunged within her, driven over the edge.

  They lay together as their breathing slowed. A broad smile spread across Nigel’s face. She had said yes.

  * * *

  As their bodies cooled, she turned in his arms and raised herself on her elbows to see his face, which wore a silly grin.

  “I knew you did,” he said.

  She slapped his arm. “No. I can’t be held accountable for what I say in the throes of lovemaking.”

  “When you’re not censoring yourself?”

  “When I’m not thinking at all.”

  “I don’t believe you. Or rather, I do.”

  She ran her hand down his face to try to get rid of his satisfied grin. “Stop smiling like that. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

  She settled back down next to him, concern filling her. Soon they would start to make love again. Only, this time, it was making love and not just having sex. She was in love again—in love with Nigel Johns.

  Chapter 18

  Nigel picked his way through the crowd inside Eastern Market. The meat looked plump and fresh. If he wasn’t hoping to get Regina to go to a movie with him, he would get some lamb shanks and some pork chops. In fact, as good as they looked, he still might.

  He’d never been to Eastern Market before, much less on a cool weekend day near the end of summer. The place was packed. Inside, the shoppers filled the central aisle and formed packed lines in front of every counter. They were two or three deep in front of the produce bins, and as fresh as it looked, Nigel could understand why. He’d gotten some peaches from one of the farmers out front under the outdoor tent.

  “Excuse me.” He stopped an older woman. “Where would I find the jewelry and art?”

  “That’s at the flea market outside. Go through that door over there, and you’ll see the booths.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He followed her directions to an area outside that was bigger than the indoor food market and separate from the farmer’s market out front. Here, he started making his way through aisles of booths that had just about anything you could name. Furniture, crafts, housewares, art, jewelry, clothes, books, imports—more than he could have imagined.

  He saw Amelie’s jewelry first.

  “Hey,” she said as they hugged. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking for your partner.”

  “She just went to get us some drinks. She’ll be back in a minute. Let me just help this lady, and then we can chat.”

  Amelie turned back to her customer, and he turned around to find some of Regina’s mosaics on the opposite side of the table. They were mostly smaller pieces, ones that could be moved more easily. They were piled and stacked, with some out front as accents. This setting didn’t allow them to be displayed properly.

  The booth in front of them was an importer of African clothing—the kind Amelie and Regina wore often. Now he knew where they got them. Next to them was a glassworker’s booth with everything from vases to plates. On the other side were exotic wooden pieces, some furniture but mostly light fixtures and ornaments. Behind them was a textile booth; he wasn’t sure what was being sold there, perhaps tablecloths or wall hangings, maybe just material. Every direction had something unique.

  “Can I help you?”

  He turned around to find that it was Regina. She handed a bottle of juice to Amelie and turned back to him.

  “Nigel, I didn’t recognize you from behind without a suit on.”

  He stepped back and turned around with his arms out. He had on a white T-shirt, a blue sweat suit, striped sneakers and a baseball cap. He was showing her that he could do casual.

  She smiled at him, but only for a moment. She wasn’t as cheerful today.

  “Actually, you can help me,” he said. “I need something smallish that I can send to my mom. Her birthday’s coming up. I was thinking about one of your mosaic African sculptures.”

  “Mosaics are heavy. It’s pricey to mail them.”

  She didn’t have many sculptures out, but he saw one that was what he had in mind. “How about this piece?”

  “Why not some perfume? A nice dress?”

  “Is she trying to talk you out of a sale, Nigel?” asked Amelie, smiling.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “He’s done too much already, Amelie. He got three pieces at the gallery—larger ones. That’s more than enough.”

  Luckily, Amelie paid her no mind.

  “Which one do you like, Nigel?”

  “I was thinking about this one for my mom.”

  “Oh, I like that one, too.”

  Amelie picked it up and looked at the bottom. “It’s $185, but for you, we can do $150. How’s that?”

  “I’ll do the $185. Do you take checks?”

  “From you we do. Make it out to Beads and Tiles.”

  “I like your new name better.”

  Amelie doubled a shopping bag, wrapped the sculpture in newspaper and placed it carefully into the bottom of the bag. “So do I. We think African-American Beadwork and Mosaic Arts works better for us now. I’m sorry we don’t have a gift box, but if you go to The Wrap Store, you’ll find something.”

  Regina had been quiet while he made the purchase. Now she turned to Amelie. “Do you mind if I steal Nigel away for a few minutes? I need to talk to him. Can I walk you to your car?”

  “No, I’m still looking for another present for my mom, and this is my first time around the market. Walk around with me. Here.” He handed Amelie the bag of peaches. “These can be for you guys.”

  He hugged Regina when she stepped around the booth and tugged her toward the booths he hadn’t seen yet.

  She went along with him without saying anything, not even when he pointed out an African dress that his mom might like. He tugged her hand.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Nigel, I can’t see you anymore.”

  “W
hat? Why?”

  “I can’t say. I can only say that I can’t see you anymore.”

  “Not again. We just went through this. I told you, I won’t rush you. If you just want to call us friends, that’s fine. Whatever you want.”

  She pulled her hand out of his.

  “It’s not any of that. I just can’t see you anymore—for good this time.”

  “Why?”

  She looked around. They were between two booths, and other shoppers were skirting around them. He could see her distraction.

  “This is not the best place to talk,” he said. “What time are you through tonight?”

  “There isn’t anything to talk about. I just can’t continue to see you.”

  Her eyes were misty. He could tell that she was serious this time, but he wasn’t about to let her go—not without a real reason and not without a fight.

  “What time do you close down?”

  She sighed. “We shut down at six. I’m home by seven.”

  “Do you need help breaking things down?”

  “No, no. But—”

  “I’ll be at your place waiting.”

  He walked her back to the booth and hugged Amelie.

  He had several hours. He had thought that today he would be doing some window-shopping and getting movie tickets, maybe helping them break things down at the booth.

  Instead, he was again fretting over the newest incarnation of Regina Gibson—the newest ultimatum.

  He doubled back to the indoor market, stopping to get some more peaches on the way in. He went inside and got some lamb shanks and pork chops, some pasta and sauce, some bread and some fresh flowers.

  He got home, cooked the lamb shanks and the pasta, showered and changed. He still had time to kill before going to wait for Regina, so while he packed up the meal to take with him, he called his mother to ask her what she wanted for her birthday.

  “Oh, honey, I don’t need a thing.”

  He knew she would say that. She always did. Regina’s suggestion of perfume wasn’t a bad idea, and maybe an African dress to round it out. He would get an extra box from the department store for the statue and put everything in one large box to mail.

  He talked to his mom for a little bit, just finding out how things were at home. It helped to calm him down when he was riled up, even if she didn’t know there was anything going on with him.