Curvaceous (4 page)

Somewhere there was a man waiting to fall helplessly in love with her and sweep her off her feet—as her best friend Jennifer Rose Markham had been swept off hers when she least expected it. Cherica sighed. After rejoicing when several of her friends had fallen in love, she had to believe her turn would come.

Granted, she was already in love. And Jayson might even more than like her. But it wouldn't matter if he wasn't prepared to acknowledge his feelings to his mother and his sisters. Since she didn't see that happening, she'd have to look forward to meeting and falling in love with a man ready to let the world know he returned her love.

She'd just have to make sure that she was ready when it did. That meant not wasting time wishing for the impossible with Jayson. She'd had her dream night with him and now it was time to move on. Recalling the ecstasy of making love with him, she couldn't deny she wanted at least one more night with him to savor. Come the New Year, she was moving on with her life—with or without him. 

J
ayson fought the urge to turn around and go back in an attempt to settle things with Cherica every minute of the forty-minute drive to the house where he'd grown up.  While it was tradition for the entire Calihan family to have Christmas breakfast at home, he'd never wanted to participate less. How was he supposed to eat a huge breakfast in the dining room and then sit in the living room exchanging presents and pretending everything was fine when all he wanted was to be alone with Cherica?

Recalling the ecstasy they'd shared only made going on more difficult. After years of pretending all he wanted from her was friendship he'd finally gotten her into bed. Now she wanted to go back to being friends. Damn, women were nearly impossible to understand. He'd give her a little time and then try to change her mind. In the meantime, he had to "enjoy" Christmas with his family.

He pulled into the back driveway of his family home, retrieved two bags of gifts for his mother and sisters from his trunk, and walked up the driveway. The kitchen door opened as he reached the top step.

Several delicious aromas drifted out. Despite himself, his stomach rumbled in appreciation. He'd never encountered a better cook than his mother.

"Sonny!"

Sonny. If he lived to be a hundred, he'd probably never live the nickname down. He smiled at the pretty, slender woman with short silver hair, and dark eyes standing in the door. "Merry Christmas, Mom." He leaned down.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Sonny. Your sisters are in the living room with our guests."

Guests? He tensed. His mother had always considered Christmas and Thanksgiving two holidays that should be shared exclusively with blood relatives; casual lovers had never been welcome. The only exception was made for fiancées.

He arched a brow. "Someone's engaged?"

"Don't I wish?"

"Then who is intruding on our family time with your blessing?"

She shrugged. "Your sisters insisted on inviting a friend each and I couldn't say no."

He thought of all the times she'd made it clear Cherica would not be welcomed. He frowned. "Since when?"

"Don't look at me like that, Sonny. I said you could bring a friend as well."

She'd agreed so coolly to his request to invite Cherica that he'd decided not to subject Rica to what he'd known would have been an unpleasant ordeal for her. "Somehow I doubt Cherica would have received a very warm welcome, Mom."

She gave him a cool look. "I've never treated any of your friends with anything less than politeness."

Unless the friend in question was Cherica.

"It was your decision not to invite her after your sisters and I agreed she could come."

He loved his mother and sisters, but sometimes they got on his last damned nerve. Saying she
could
come and would be welcome were worlds apart. They would have made sure Cherica knew she wasn't welcomed or wanted. "Mom, you know—"

"Let's not argue, Sonny." She waved a hand towards the kitchen doorway. "Go say hello while I put the finishing touches on breakfast. I'll call you when it's time and we'll eat in here like one big, happy family."

One big happy family? That told him everything he needed to know about the welcome 'guests.' He was not in the mood for one of their sneak attacks. How old did he have to be before they stopped thinking he needed or wanted help picking the women in his life?

But he also wasn't in the mood for any further arguing on Christmas morning. Still, this shit could not go on much longer. And it wouldn't. Regretting the way he'd left things with Cherica, he suddenly made a New Year's resolution none of his family would like.

Deciding to give them one week to enjoy the bliss of not knowing how he felt about Cherica, he turned and left the kitchen. The New Year would bring changes they were going to have to learn to accept or see a lot less of him.

Monique and Latraya, four and six years his senior respectively sat in the living room. Both were slender, beautiful women. They sat together on the loveseat. Two pretty, slender women shared the sofa. Both 'guests' had that unmarried and on the lookout for a husband appearance he'd come to dread in his sisters' friends.

It was going to be a long morning. Pasting a smile on his face, he entered the room. "Merry Christmas."

"Sonny!"

"Here's our Sonny!"

Monique and Latraya bounded to their feet and rushed across the room to toss their arms around him. As they covered his face with kisses, their obvious delight at his presence eroded a large part of his annoyance. Despite their barely concealed racial bias and open dislike for Cherica, he knew they loved him as only adoring older sisters could love a younger brother.

They drew away, each taking a bag from his hand. Monique slipped an arm through his. "Come meet our guests, Rena and Keisha."

Latraya leaned against his other side to whisper in his ear. "Both are single and very eager to meet you."

"Too bad the feeling isn't mutual," he murmured.

"Sonny! At least give them a chance." She gave him a bright smile and led him over to the women.

Both were charming and pretty and left him stone cold. Damn. It was going to be a long, long morning.

As always, the food was excellent, but the meal a long and tortuous one during which all three Calihan women did their best to maneuver him into asking one of their 'guests' out.

He managed to remain polite while refusing to fall in with their plans. After breakfast, they moved to the living room to open presents.

The moment the last present was opened, he rose. "I need to make a run."

His mother frowned as he bent to kiss her cheek. "But we expected you to spend the day here, Sonny."

There was no way he was going to spend another minute fending off his mother and sisters' matchmaking efforts. "I can't. I'll call you." He kissed Monique and Latraya's cheeks, ignoring their obvious disapproval. He flashed brief, meaningless smiles at Rena and Keisha before he quickly left the room.

Monique, never one to easily give up, followed him into the kitchen. "You can't just leave, Sonny!"

He turned to face her. "I am leaving, Monique."

"Why?"

"Because I don't need any help getting a date," he told her coolly. "I don't try to set you or Latraya up with my friends and I'd appreciate it if you two started returning the favor."

She narrowed her gaze. "You're thirty-two, Sonny. Don't you think it's time you thought about settling down?"

He bit back the urge to remind her that both hers and Latraya's marriages had quickly ended in divorce. He shook his head instead and gave her a long stare, confident his silence spoke for him.

She squeezed his hand. "One of us has to get it right and give Mom a grandbaby or two. That's looking less likely to happen with either Latraya or me. Maybe it's not fair, but that kind of leaves you, Sonny."

"I'll get married when I fall in love with someone who loves me."

"Fine. Just make sure she's a black beauty and everyone will be happy."

He stared at her. "What if she's not black?"

She shook her head. "Oh, Sonny, please. Don't go there! Mom will freak if you bring a white girl home."

He was only too aware of the truthfulness of that statement. "If you're referring to Cherica, she's biracial."

She shrugged. "Maybe so, but it's very hard to tell."

Fuck! He stared at her, making no effort to hide his annoyance. "It's still a fact."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," he echoed and jerked the door open. He left the house, resisting the urge to slam the kitchen door behind him. In his car, he called the one female with whom he felt comfortable discussing Cherica.

"Jayson! Merry Christmas," she said when she answered.

"And to you, Maren. Listen, I know it's short notice, but I wondered if I could stop by for a brief visit."

"Sure. When?"

Before Maren's arrival a year earlier, Jayson had been the only African-American engineer at the large firm where they both worked. They had developed a friendship that allowed them the freedom to discuss their romantic relationships or lack thereof. "Today. Now in fact. Can I come by for a quick visit?"

"I thought it was traditional for you to spend the entire day with your family, Jayson."

"It was...it is, but I couldn't bear it this year."

"What happened?"

"My sisters each invited a friend. Unfortunately for me, they were hell bent on pairing me with one of them."

"And? You didn't like either one?"

"They were attractive, but my interests lay elsewhere, as you know. To please Mom, I sat through a tortuous breakfast. Then we exchanged and opened gifts. I know they planned to work me over for the rest of the day, but I'd had enough. Now I need to talk."

"Was it that bad?"

"It was worse. Every time, they attempted to shove their friends down my throat, it pissed me off because they went out of their way to make sure I didn't bring Cherica."

"Taking her would have made for an interesting day."

"Sure, if she had her full battle gear on."

"You sound like a man who wants to talk."

"I am—if you can stand to hear about Cherica again."

"That's what friends are for. Come on over. I've been immersed in a report for the last two hours. I could use a break."

"Can I bring anything?"

"Just yourself. I'll make coffee and we can talk for a while before I get back to this report."

"See you soon."

"Okay."

He went home to retrieve the presents he'd brought for her and then drove to her apartment.

Like Cherica, Maren possessed a tall, nicely-padded body. Although she dressed well, she wore very little make-up and didn't go out of her way to do much to attract a man's romantic interest. Granted she wasn't beautiful, but she had an almost magical smile and a warm gaze that cast a charming light on her perfect brown skin.

She had a way of looking and listening that could make a man feel as if he were the center of her universe. Jayson knew she could easily have captured the attention of a man willing to look beyond the lack of a pretty face with just a little effort. In fact, for all her lack of outer beauty, had he not been in love with Cherica, he might very well have asked her out himself.

And he knew he wasn't the only male at the firm who might have been interested—if given just a little encouragement from her. Instead of enjoying a rich social life, she often projected an air of cold reserve that would deter all but the most determined of men.

For reasons she'd never discussed, she didn't appear to date. He had invited her to spend the day with his family, knowing she'd receive a far warmer welcome than Cherica would have. She'd refused in favor of spending the day alone working. He looked around. She hadn't even bothered to decorate for the holidays.

There was something about her that piqued his interest. One of these days he'd get her to unwind enough to tell him what had happened between her and her ex and why she didn't seem to be interested in dating.

She invited him in with a beautiful smile that filled him with warmth. "For me?" she asked, accepting the bottle of red wine and the box of chocolates he'd bought her. "Thank you. Go into the living room and make yourself at home while I take care of these." She started to turn away but then turned back. "I know you're probably still full from breakfast, but would you like a slice of homemade rum cake?"

He smiled. "Homemade from the store?"

She laughed. "I'm a country gal at heart. While I'm not a great cook, I am a pretty good baker. When I say homemade, I mean homemade by me."

He didn't have a sweet tooth and generally preferred to save excess calories for the occasional beer binge. "I'd love a small piece."

Ten minutes later, she joined him in the living room with a tray with two coffee cups, a carafe, and a slice of cake on a plate.

He tasted a small piece of the cake.

"So?"

"Damn. This is great. Taste as good as the rum cake my grandmother used to make."

She smiled and poured them both a cup of coffee from the carafe.

He finished the cake before he picked up his coffee cup.

"So?" She sat her coffee cup down. "Let's talk."

"We spent the night together," he told her.

"Then why so glum now?"

"I have no idea what the hell happened, but this morning, just before I left, she decided last night had been a mistake and that our friendship was too valuable to risk over a night of meaningless sex."

"She was probably hurt because you left her to go spend time with your family."

He compressed his lips before he spoke, stung by the hint of censure he detected in her voice. "It's a family tradition. We've known each other long enough for her to know that."

She nodded. "Yes, but surely you can understand how she must have felt this morning—after she left her family tradition to be with you last night."

He inhaled slowly. "So you're saying I shouldn't have gone?"

She hesitated. "I'm saying she might have preferred you not go. Today would have been a great time for the two of you to spend together exploring the new facet of your relationship."