Read An Unexpected Attraction (Love Unexpected Book 3) Online

Authors: Delaney Diamond

Tags: #Romance, #african-american romance, #interracial romance, #contemporary romance, #Fiction

An Unexpected Attraction (Love Unexpected Book 3)

Table of Contents

Blurb

Copyright Page

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Italian Translations

Excerpt from The Wrong Man

More Stories by Delaney Diamond

About the Author

Blurb

They didn’t mean to fall in love…

Brenda Morrison has known Jay Santorini for years, but he’s off limits. He’s her friend’s ex-husband, and except for one slip-up, they’ve always had a platonic relationship. But now that she’s back in Atlanta, the smoldering attraction between them is much harder to resist.

Jay has always kept a hands-off approach to Brenda, and the time they spend together starts out innocently enough, or so he pretends. Because the truth is, Jay has feelings for her, and those feelings are anything but innocent.

An Unexpected Attraction

by Delaney Diamond

Copyright © January 2015, Delaney Diamond

Delaney Diamond

Atlanta, Georgia

ISBN: 978-1-940636-10-8

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Delaney Diamond.

Prologue

Twelve years ago…

“Life in Naples sounds idyllic, but aren’t you a little biased?” Brenda teased.

“My biased opinion does not make what I say any less true,” Jay informed her, keeping his eyes on the road.

Outside, rain banged against the windshield, dropping in pailfuls from the night sky. The wiper blades of the sedan launched back and forth across the glass at a frantic pace to keep up.

“I bet you didn’t know Naples is the third largest city in Italy,” he continued. A proud
napoletano
, he took every opportunity to speak of the historic city’s finer attributes and promote the culture to anyone who listened. “You must visit one day. There is so much to see and do. Beautiful beaches along the coast. A lot of museums, all with important collections that tell the history of our country and the region. Then there is the Royal Palace of Naples—a must-see. And of course, the food in my home city is excellent.”

“Of course,” Brenda said, poker-faced.

He chuckled. She never missed an opportunity to needle him about his Italian pride. “Trust me, we have some of the best restaurants in the entire country. And if you want to eat real pizza, good pizza,
oh mio dio,
” he kissed his fingertips, “you will not find better than in Naples.”

She sat angled toward him, listening attentively to his words. “You’ve convinced me, Jay. I will definitely visit one day.”

“You should go when I’m at home. I will make sure you have a good experience.” He glanced sideways at her to gauge her reaction to his suggestion.

She smiled a bit shyly, but certainly with pleasure. “Deal. I’ll go when you’re there and you can show me around.”

Jay smiled, too, energized by her reaction, and began a descriptive conversation about his birthplace and family who still resided there.

All too soon, the car ride came to an end. The engaging talk had kept his mind from the sobering thought that they’d have to part when he arrived at her apartment. Heavy-hearted, he fell into a quiet funk, wishing he could extend their time alone together.

He pulled up outside the apartment building, but a couple of cars parked right in front of the door prevented him from pulling any closer.

“Darn,” Brenda said, sighing. “Too bad we can’t plough into their cars and make them move.”

He heard the humor in the words but couldn’t respond to it. He didn’t want her to go. “That wouldn’t be very nice to hit their cars,” he said.

She grinned at him. “I was kidding. You’re such a good guy.”

He stared straight ahead, jaw tightening. “I’m not a good guy.” Good guys didn’t contemplate ways to prolong their time with a woman they shouldn’t want. Good guys didn’t imagine that same woman naked.

“Why do you say you’re not a good guy?” She sounded amused.

“Because I’m not.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the car. There were things he wanted to say to her and internally debated if he should. Maybe he should tell her the truth about his feelings.

“It’s really raining hard. I’ll have to make a run for it,” she said.

He should have popped the lock and let her out, but instead Jay pulled away from the building.

“What are you doing?” Brenda demanded.

He glided into a space farther away from the front door. It was Saturday night and only a few cars were in the parking lot because many of the student residents were out partying before they left for break.

He turned off the car and twisted to face her, summoning the courage to speak the words on his heart.

“What’s going on?” she asked in a quiet voice. Lines of confusion marked her forehead.

“I think about you all the time,” Jay said. A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders with that admission. He took her hand, and surprisingly, she let him. He stroked her slender fingers. Her skin felt like velvet. “I don’t know what to do about the way I feel. It is like…like a torture I cannot be free from.”

Her fingers curled against his palm. “Jenna’s my friend.”

Her chose to ignore her words and tightened his hand around her fisted fingers, slowly prying them open, one by one and with very little resistance. He lowered his lips and planted a kiss in the middle of her palm. She didn’t pull away, and her breathing pattern changed from normal to sporadic. Encouraged, he let his lips move in gentle strokes to the inside of her wrist.

He knew he was wrong. He knew he should stop. But all thoughts of stopping evaporated when she swayed toward him, lips parted, eyes pleading for more intimate contact.

After that, everything happened so fast. He pulled her across his lap so that she straddled him on the seat. The confines of the car made movement difficult, but he’d had to touch her.

Now, he had to taste her, too…

Chapter One

Present day

No reaction. Not laughter. Not even tears. His death had devastated them all, and one day, Brenda Morrison would look back on this night and recognize it was the beginning of the end, the last time the five of them came together as friends. Not only because of his passing, but because of her own personal evolution, and how her relationship with one person in particular transformed against her better judgment.

The somberness in her friends’ faces was no doubt reflected in her own. Charlie, the sixth member of their rat pack crew, had been killed a mere month before he was scheduled to tie the knot. Three thugs had entered his home one afternoon and been surprised when they encountered him. One of them shot him in the back when he tried to escape. They’d left her friend to die, bleeding out on the staircase in his home. Had it not been for the very conspicuous black BMW the teens had driven off in, back to their upper middle class neighborhood, the crime might have gone unsolved.

Brenda and her friends had attended the funeral and spent several hours with his family before coming to his favorite Italian restaurant for drinks—a casual dining establishment with two bars, an average menu but potent alcoholic beverages, and a dueling piano show that attracted customers from neighboring cities.

In her mind’s eye she saw Charlie’s dark brown skin and laughing eyes. He’d been a horrible procrastinator, but he’d never had a bad word to say about a single person. He didn’t deserve such a vicious, untimely death. His sudden passing had left behind an empty hole in their hearts, a
fiancée
and, they’d learned today, an unborn child.

“He wouldn’t want us to sit here like this,” Sophie said. She sat beside Brenda with wild, curly hair and a host of colorful bangles and earrings, representative of her quirky style and personality. “He wouldn’t want us to dwell on his death. He’d want us to talk about how he lived. Charlie loved having a good time. He’d want us to remember the good times and laugh.”

She was right. Brenda opened her mouth to speak, to say something witty and funny about Charlie, but she couldn’t find the words. Her heart heavy and filled with the pain of loss, she remained silent. So did everyone else.

“Come on, guys,” Sophie pleaded. “Don’t we owe it to Charlie to at least pay him his due?”

To Sophie’s right sat Nick, who’d flown in from Europe. The wise-cracking member, his dark brown hair stood on end from constantly running his fingers through it. He’d been closer to Charlie than any of them, so understandably, he took his death the hardest. Brenda quietly kept an eye on how many glasses of Grey Goose vodka he consumed.

The silence remained—heavy, somber, until a smile lifted a corner of Nick’s mouth.

“That son of a bitch owed me two thousand dollars for that quote, unquote, new-and-improved quattrocycle he created. No matter how many times I told him to forget about the money, he always insisted he’d pay me back.” He leaned onto his forearms, gaze sweeping the table to encompass the group. “A couple of months ago he sent a spreadsheet with the total and the amount of interest that had accrued. He swore before the end of the year he would pay me back.” He shook his head. “Crazy son of a bitch.”

Charlie owned dozens of patents for mechanical creations no one had an interest in. Since college he had borrowed money from friends and worked on ideas he claimed would one day make him a millionaire. None of them had been successful, but he never quit trying.

“Guess you’ll have to write off the debt after all,” Jenna said. She sat across from Brenda with her chin resting in her hand. A few strands of lengthy blonde hair fell forward over her shoulder.

“Guess so,” Nick agreed with a wry, mournful smile.

“He owed me ten thousand dollars.” All eyes turned to Jay Santorini, Jenna’s ex-husband. He sat to Jenna’s left, subdued and slouched in a chair, tie undone. He’d placed his jacket over the back of the chair. Rolled up shirtsleeves revealed strong forearms sprinkled with a dusting of hair the same midnight shade as the curls on his head. Long fingers cradled a tumbler of Scotch, and every now and again he lifted the glass to take a minute sip.

“You gave him ten grand?” Nick asked. “What were you thinking?”

“Multiple loans over the years.” Jay shrugged. As the wealthiest member of their circle of friends, ten thousand probably hadn’t put much of a dent in his finances. “I believed in him, and who could resist Charlie?”

They all nodded.

“Remember when he was looking into alternative fuels and went around to all those restaurants collecting oil at the end of the day?” Nick asked.

“Ohmigod,” Sophie said, shaking her head. “Do you know that fool dragged me into that mess? He had me hitting up the wing joint and the soul food restaurant near my apartment, collecting oil for him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Brenda said, laughing.

“Yes! Consider yourself lucky you lived in Chicago at the time, or he would have roped you in, too, I’m sure.”

Jenna giggled, casting a sidelong glance at Jay. “Guess who put that
alternative
fuel in his Mercedes?”


No
,” Sophie said, wide-eyed.

“In my defense, it was the older model.” Jay’s grey eyes lit with amusement. Brenda could still hear a little bit of his Italian accent, even though he’d lived in Georgia for years. He set his elbow on the table and pointed at no one in particular. “I’m telling you, I drove around for a whole week without having to buy gas. Charlie was onto something.”

They all fell out laughing, and that was the beginning of the Charlie stories.

Jay ordered appetizers, and before long plenty of alcoholic beverages and mediocre Italian food accompanied the reminiscing. Spirits lifted, they became the most raucous table in the restaurant, but they ignored the dirty looks from the other patrons. Tonight was about Charlie and celebrating his life.

Sometime later, Jenna covered a wide yawn with her hand. “I’d better get going,” she said.

Nick frowned and looked at his watch. “It’s early—only eight thirty.”

“By the time I get back to the hotel and settle down for the night, it’ll be late. My flight leaves in the morning, and I need to check on the boys before I go to bed.” Jenna and Jay had two boys, ten-year-old fraternal twins. “Mind walking me out?” she asked Jay in a low voice.

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