Let's Get It On (22 page)

“No, it isn't.”

Maurice kissed her finger, then took it in his mouth, sucking it seductively. It didn't take long for the duo to start making love again.

The next morning, Maurice was up at dawn, watching Kenya as she slept. Her face looked angelic, and her body looked heavenly. He wanted to make love to her until sunset, but he had to get across town and make it to minicamp, and he knew Kenya had to go into the office. Still, he didn't wake her; he simply stroked her arm with his index finger. This felt so right, though he knew her friends and family were going to question her decision to give him another chance and to accept his proposal. It didn't matter, because he was never going to do anything to hurt her again, and he wasn't going to let Lauryn interfere anymore. Maurice decided that after today's training session, he was going to get a restraining order against Lauryn.

He leaned down and kissed Kenya's full lips. “Wake up, babe,” he said.

She tossed her head away from his. “Too early.”

“No it's not. Wake up, sleeping beauty.” Maurice slipped his hand underneath the sheet and stroked her bare bottom.

Moaning and rolling over to face him, she opened her eyes. “You should've done that to begin with.”

“And as much as I want to spend all day in bed with you, you have to go to work, and I have to go to work,” he said, then slipped out of the bed, pulling all the covers off Kenya.

She sat up in the bed, glaring at Maurice. “You don't play fair,” she said as she begrudgingly rose from the bed and headed into the bathroom.

“How about I buy you breakfast to make up for it?” he asked as he heard the shower start.

“That's a start, but you know I'm not a morning person, so consider yourself in my debt,” she called out.

Maurice drove Kenya to her office after they finished breakfast at the Coffee Cup restaurant, which was across the street from Bank of America Stadium. Hopefully, today wouldn't be a long one, and he could plan a special evening for Kenya, with roses, candlelight, and lovemaking. He was going to need his strength. As he approached the gate to the practice field, Homer met him.

“What happened to you last night? Smitty had a slamming party. He's going to take your party king crown if you don't watch it,” Homer said, closing his hand on Maurice's shoulder.

“I had my own party last night, and I have a wedding to get ready for,” Maurice said, with a wide smile.

Homer stepped back from Maurice and looked at him as if he were speaking in a foreign tongue. “Wedding? You took the les—”

“Kenya, the woman that I should've married years ago,” Maurice said. “Last night we kissed and made up and kissed some more. We decided that we'd wasted enough time and we need each other.”

“So, this is the honey from the islands?”

“Yeah, and the only woman I've ever truly loved.” Maurice couldn't have stopped smiling if he'd wanted to.

Homer slapped Maurice on the back as they headed into the facility. “I hope this one works out for you, bro.”

“Oh, it will, because this is true love,” Maurice said.

 

 

Kenya sat at her desk, noticing for the first time that she could see the Panthers practicing from her window. Her lips spread into a smile as she thought about Maurice on the field. Her fiancé. Now, how was she going to tell her mother and Imani that she and Maurice were back together?

“This is my life, and he's the man that I love. They're going to have to accept it,” she said aloud.

“Miss Taylor, did you say something?” Talisha asked from the doorway.

“Thinking aloud. Is everything all right?”

“Mr. James Goings is here to see you.”

Inwardly, Kenya shuddered. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to James, and she really wasn't ready to see him right now. But she had no choice.

“Send him in, and can you get us some coffee?” Kenya said.

Her assistant nodded and showed James in. Kenya smiled weakly at her future brother-in-law.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning,” he said, then closed the door. “We need to clear the air.”

Placing her hands flat on the desk, she sighed. “I know, and I've been wanting to call and say something. I just didn't know what.”

“I was struggling with that as well,” he said. “But somebody has to say something. With that said, you and Maurice belong together, and I hope that you don't think kissing me makes him love you any less.”

She dropped her head to hide her smile. “I know,” she said. “Maurice and I got back together last night.” Lifting her head, she looked James in the eye. “But I'm concerned about us. I don't want there to be any tension between us. You've always been a good friend to me, and I don't want my stupidity to change that.”

“I've always wondered what you see in Maurice. He can be selfish. He can be arrogant and inconsiderate,” James said. “But he's my brother, and I love him. That's why I tried to always look at you as Maurice's girlfriend, especially when you came back to Atlanta all those years ago. I was glad that you even spoke to me after what he did. I know Maurice loves you, and for some reason, you two belong together. You make him responsible. Maurice doesn't want to do anything to hurt you, and God help the next person that tries to come between you two.”

Kenya rose from her seat, walked over to James, and gave him a sisterly hug. “Thanks for being understanding and not holding what I did against me.”

“You didn't do it alone. I'm just glad we didn't go any further,” James said when they released each other. “I've got to go. The city sent the contracts, and I have to get moving on our project before Mo heads to training camp and football becomes his life.”

As he left, Kenya prayed that when she talked to her family and friends, things would go as smoothly.

Biting the bullet, she picked up the phone and called her mother.

“This is Angela Johnson-Taylor. I can't take your call at this time. Please leave a detailed message, or to reach the newsroom, press zero,” her voice mail played back.

For a split second, Kenya thought about leaving a message on her mother's voice mail, telling her that she and Maurice were getting married, but she knew that wasn't the right thing to do. As a matter of fact, she needed to face her parents head-on, with Maurice by her side.
We need to take a trip to Atlanta,
she thought as she hung up the phone.

“Talisha,” Kenya said over the intercom, “will you bring me my calendar for the week?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Talisha said.

Talisha walked into Kenya's office, with her appointment book and a bouquet of red and white roses. “These just came for you.” She set the roses and the book in the middle of Kenya's desk.

“Thank you,” Kenya said as she plucked the card from the flowers, though there was no doubt that Maurice had sent them.

Kenya held the card to her chest. If other people didn't accept her love for Maurice, then it would be their problem. She refused to allow outside forces to tear them apart again.

 

 

“Good news, gentlemen,” head coach Stephen Ford said to his team as they huddled. “I like what I've seen these last two days. I'm confident that none of you have the proverbial Super Bowl hangover. Training camp starts in three weeks. If we have any hopes of winning it all again, then we're going to have to give it our all in camp. No personal distractions, no front-office talk on the field. I just want hard work. I don't know about y'all, but I want to be on top of the mountain again. We got the talent. I just need the commitment.”

The team cheered, and everyone was pumped up, as if the big game were tomorrow.

“With that said, consider minicamp over,” said the coach.

Maurice was happy to hear those words leave the coach's lips. Homer leaned over and whispered, “God must have heard my prayers, because they were killing us out here.”

“I know,” Maurice said.

Once the coach told everyone to head to the locker room, Maurice darted off the field and was the first one inside.

“Yo, Mo,” Smitty called out. “Sorry to hear about your wedding. I guess if I had gotten left for another woman, I would've gone into hiding, too.”

Maurice turned around and looked at the former star wide receiver and smirked. “Damn, you still play here?”

Growling, Smitty jumped in his face. “You think you're hot shit or something? You might be the man on the field, but you're obviously not in the bedroom, or that hottie would be your wife.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Maurice leaned on his locker. “That's all you got, Smit? Let's see. I took your job. Rumor has it that you might be going to Arizona so we can get a real receiver, and all you can do is throw old news in my face?”

Thinking that things were going to get ugly, Homer stepped between the two men. “Hey, we're all teammates, and minicamp has been cut short. Chill out.”

Smitty walked away, glaring at Maurice. When he was out of earshot, Homer said, “I'm surprised you didn't take a swing at him.”

“I don't have time for that. I have a life. Smitty doesn't,” Maurice said as he grabbed his towel and headed for the shower. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Smitty wasn't behind him, ready to sucker punch him, the way he'd done to a rookie defensive back three years ago, after he'd questioned his heart on the field. Smitty's reputation of being a hothead was legendary in the league. But Coach Ford had a policy on fighting. He would bench anybody, star or not, for fighting, and Maurice hadn't ridden a bench since his days in Dallas.

He made it through the shower without another confrontation with Smitty. Then he was free to go take care of his business with Lauryn and plan a night for Kenya. As he drove to the courthouse to get the restraining order against Lauryn, he thought about waking up with Kenya and how they'd wasted too much time looking over their shoulders for Lauryn. This restraining order was going to keep her away, but was it going to be enough to prove to Kenya that he didn't want Lauryn anymore?
She knows that. That's why we reconciled last night. This order is about our sanity and keeping Lauryn from pulling any more of her tricks,
he thought as he headed into the building.

 

 

Lauryn stood outside of Maurice's building and glared at the doorman. “What do you mean you can't let me in? I have business with Mr. Goings. We were going to get married.”

“I have my orders,” the doorman said, not allowing her to enter.

“How much do I have to pay you to let me in?”

“You don't have enough money to cost me my job,” the doorman said. “Now leave, or I'll be forced to call the police.”

Lauryn folded her arms across her ample chest. “I'm standing on a public sidewalk. What are they going to do? Arrest me for standing?”

Someone tapped her on her shoulder, and she turned around and looked at Mya's face. “So, you're stalking me now?” she demanded.

“No, but you can't play with people's lives,” Mya said, then threw an unlableled DVD in Lauryn's face. “Maurice knows what you did because I told him. You chose me, but since we've been together, all you've done is try to worm your way back into his life. If you didn't want me, you should've told me instead of pretending to love me.”

“This is neither the time nor the place,” Lauryn said.

Mya grabbed her arm. “Oh, it is, because you're not welcome in my house anymore. Your things will be packed and on the doorstep. If you get them, fine. If not, oh well!” Then Mya slapped Lauryn as hard as she could. “I hate you, and I wish to God that I'd never fallen in love with you.”

Neither of them noticed Maurice walking up the sidewalk. “Lauryn, I'm glad you're here,” Maurice said sarcastically when he reached them.

Lauryn smiled brightly. “Really?”

He looked from Lauryn to Mya, then reached into his gym bag. “Here you go,” he said as he handed Lauryn the restraining order. “According to this paper, you're in violation of this restraining order.”

Mya began laughing hysterically. “How does it feel, Lauryn? After all of your scheming, you're alone. I don't want you, and neither does Maurice.”

Maurice turned to the doorman. “If she's not gone in five seconds, call the police.”

“I bet when Kenya sees that DVD, you're going to be alone, too,” Lauryn snapped.

“Kenya's seen it, Lauryn, and guess what? We're still getting married. See, I let you use your body to keep me away from the woman I loved all of those years ago, but what Kenya and I have is real. You can't come between us again. I was stupid before, but I've learned my lesson.” Maurice walked into the building, leaving Lauryn standing in the middle of the sidewalk, with a bewildered look on her face. Mya had already gotten into her car and driven off.

 

 

As Kenya headed down to the parking lot, she remembered that Maurice had driven her to work. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone and called him.

“Hey, babe,” he said when he answered.

“I was wondering if you were going to pick me up, or do I have to walk home?” Kenya asked.

“You think I'd leave you stranded like that? I'm right out front, and I have a surprise for you,” he said.

“I have a surprise for you, too,” she said as she started for the entrance of the building. When she arrived there, she found Maurice sitting on the hood of a cherry red 2008 Mustang convertible, with a vanity plate that said HERS.

“What is this?” she asked excitedly.

“Just what it says. Yours,” he said as he extended the keys to her.

“This is too much,” Kenya said as she took the keys from him. “I can't believe you did this. When did you have time to do all of this?”

“I did this after I saw you admiring my car, and I told myself, ‘When we get married, she's going to need a pony of her own,'” he said.

Kenya wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on his earlobe. “Thank you so much,” she said.

“This is just the beginning,” he said. “Let's go.”

Kenya slipped in the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel, smiling because she was just as much of a Mustang freak as Maurice, though she had never had the nerve to buy one herself. She turned to him and asked, “When is minicamp over?”

“Ended today,” he replied. “Coach said we were all giving maximum effort, and since training camp is coming up soon, he gave us time off.”

“Good,” she said as she pressed the gas pedal to the floor, “because we're going to Atlanta.”

Maurice shot his eyebrows up. “Atlanta? When?”

“Tomorrow, I guess. I can't just call my family and tell them that you and I are getting married, and you need to face them with me.”

He gripped the seat as she took a sharp turn a little faster than she should've. “Do you think that's a good idea?”

“Well, I've already made the plans. We're going to meet at Houston's so that my father can't get his hand on his gun, and we're going to tell them. Why don't you invite your mother?”