Authors: Mi'Chelle Dodson
Lloyd couldn’t help but admire
Kentucky
’s courage and dedication to educating society’s forgotten youth. He couldn’t help but despise Fabian for some of the things he learned about him in a subsequent search he performed.
As a result, Lloyd decided to drop Fabian’s case altogether. There was no way he was going to help someone hurt a man who deserved all the happiness he could get.
Kentucky
deserved the ultimate happiness after all he’d been through.
* * * *
Fabian was incensed to learn that his case had been dropped. He was even more incensed to learn that
Kentucky
was alive and well, which was the only information Lloyd would give him.
“Oh, yeah, and don’t bother trying to go to another PI. I’ve spread the word around, and none of them will have anything to do with someone that tried to send a man to his death,” Lloyd asserted.
Fabian frowned. “I never tried to send anyone to their death.”
Lloyd scoffed in disbelief. “Didn’t you when you recommended
Kentucky
to your alcoholic photographer friend Jamie Benedict? The same friend that you gave money to so that he’d be able to offer the bodyguard triple his usual fee, plus extras? The same friend that Kentucky risked his life repeatedly for during that trip because the man took too many stupid risks to get his photos, putting them both in constant danger? Need I mention the fact that this same photographer friend has become an all-out drunk since that incident and was more than willing to relieve his guilty conscience when I questioned him about your connection to him?”
“Nobody’s going to believe the word of a drunk over mine. Furthermore, I don’t need your help anymore anyway. I can get Giada back on my own,” Fabian retorted, suddenly having one whopper of an idea as he rudely slammed the phone down.
* * * *
Giada got to enjoy all the preparations for her modified dream wedding, which would be held on Christmas Eve at the Delfinos’ house since it was bigger than Hannah’s church. Hannah, Bev, and Velicity, who were Giada’s two matrons of honor and bridesmaid respectively, helped out a great deal.
Velicity finally got to see Giada and
Kentucky
together at the informal dinner the Delfinos hosted for the newlyweds. She didn’t stay in the loving couple’s presence for too long before she ran out of the room in tears.
Giada and
Kentucky
followed the crying woman into the next room. As soon as Velicity saw them, she started to apologize for her tears and for everything else in between. Most of her apologies were directed at
Kentucky
.
“Velicity, I’m not mad at you,”
Kentucky
reassured her. “I really couldn’t be mad at Giada,” he continued, pulling his wife in his arms. “She thought I was dead. It had been three months. Your advice was sound in terms of her moving on with her life. I just didn’t like who she moved on with.”
Velicity started to cry again. “I’m the one that told her to date Fabian.”
“I don’t blame you for that either.”
Kentucky
smiled in forgiveness. “A lot of women would have gotten caught up with Fabian’s good looks, his fame, and his money. I’m hoping now you’ll see that you have to look deeper than that to find real love.”
Velicity nodded, sniffing back her tears. “I see why Giada loves you. You’re a wonderful man.”
“Yes, he is,” Giada said, speaking up after watching
Kentucky
console her friend with all the right words. “Now go wash your face, fix your makeup, and meet us back at the table.”
Smiling now, Velicity nodded and headed for the nearest bathroom.
“Do you think we have time for a quickie?” Giada asked when Velicity was out of sight.
Kentucky
squeezed her bottom. “There’s always time for that.” Then he led her to the small room that the Delfinos used as a parlor and took her right up against the wall.
When they returned to the dinner fifteen minutes later, everyone burst out laughing at their wrinkled clothes and tousled hair. It was clear what they had been up to while they were missing in action.
Kentucky
and Giada looked at each other and laughed, too. That night was the first night they decided to stay at her apartment until their
Georgia
move.
* * * *
After that incident at the Delfinos,
Kentucky
and Giada enjoyed their newfound privacy to the max. His only reservation was the fact that Malik and his stepmother were now completely alone at the family home. But after his African friend requested Hannah’s hand in marriage and she accepted, there was little
Kentucky
could say. After all, they were grown.
Yet for the four days that it took for them to get all the paperwork processed on account of Malik’s citizenship issues,
Kentucky
did not sleep well at all, or much at all, considering the fact that Giada couldn’t seem to get enough of his body during that same timeframe. At the end of those four days, he finally got some rest. By then, he and his frisky wife were both exhausted from nonstop passionate loving.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I wish Kenny were here.
Giada thought, looking out the apartment window on that sunny Saturday morning.
Kentucky
had gone to give Malik another lesson on how to cut his stepmother’s lawn. The older man still didn’t have the hang of all those American tools yet.
He said he’ll be back by noon,
Giada reminded herself as she stepped away from the window and returned to packing up the apartment. There were still loads of clothes she needed to pack from her bedroom closet.
Around midday, Giada went to the window and looked out again. She was disappointed to find
Kentucky
’s vehicle still missing from the parking lot.
Suddenly, she gasped as she caught sight of Fabian pulling up in front of her apartment complex with not one, but
three
Mercedes Benzes trailing his limo. They were all in different colors—white, black, and red. Not one was in the color she really wanted.
Just act like you’re not home
. Giada quickly stepped away from the window.
That would have been easy to do if Mercedes, the dog, hadn’t started barking the way she normally did whenever she smelled Fabian’s scent.
“I know you’re in there, Giada,” Fabian said through the door. “I see your car in the parking lot, and I hear Mercedes barking. Why don’t you open up the door and pick out a real Mercedes?”
“Go away, Fabian. I don’t want anything else from you,” Giada replied, opening her mouth, but determined to keep her door shut as she descended the short staircase. At the bottom, she picked Mercedes up from near the door and held her soothingly to quiet her down.
“I know about
Kentucky
being alive, Giada,” Fabian went on to say. “I know you were probably tempted to go back to him. I’ll even forgive you if you slipped back for a brief reconciliation. Just open the door, baby, and we can work all this out.”
Giada saw red at the nerve of Fabian to think that she would actually leave
Kentucky
for a new car. Hadn’t the man learned anything yet? How many times did she have to dump him for
Kentucky
before he got the message?
“There’s nothing to work out,” Giada said, snatching the door open in her anger. As soon as she did, her eyes were bombarded by flashing lights.
Fabian had brought along a photographer and a bodyguard in the limo with him. The bodyguard had moved to the side of the door to let the photographer get the perfect shot. It was a good thing Giada was always immaculately dressed, even in the jeans, sweater, and boots she wore now.
“Giada, I love you, baby,” Fabian said, going down on one knee in front of her. “Regardless of what has happened in the past, I still want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
Giada blinked to refocus. “I can’t marry you, Fabian. I’m already married.” She held up her left hand, still holding Mercedes with her right.
“Married!” Fabian roared as another round of flashes captured his shocked face.
“To whom?” the photographer asked eagerly, sensing a juicy story at this unexpected turn of events.
“To me!”
Kentucky
replied from behind them.
* * * *
At the sound of Kentucky’s voice, Giada’s eyes seemed to instantly focus. There was her wonderful man, wide-legged and tall, with his hands folded across his large chest. Though
Kentucky
’s face looked menacingly to his foes, she’d never see him look so beautiful. Well . . . at least not in public.
Kentucky
always looked beautiful to Giada in private, especially when they made love.
“Get ’em, Champ!” Fabian ordered his bodyguard as he moved out of the way.
At that command, Giada noticed two important things. One, how fast the people driving the three Mercedes started up their cars and headed back to the dealership in order to avoid being witnesses to anything. Two, how forcefully Champ swung on her man.
Thankfully,
Kentucky
blocked that blow and administered one of his own. The sound of his fist connecting with the man’s jaw was loud. It even sounded painful. Blood spilled from the man’s mouth.
When Champ opened his mouth to curse, a few molars fell to the ground. Now he looked really mad. He charged
Kentucky
.
“Go in the house, Giada. I don’t want you to see this,”
Kentucky
said, swiftly moving out of his opponent’s way, which only served to make Champ angrier.
“The whole world is going to see this by tonight with him snapping all these pictures,” Giada said, referring to the photographer who couldn’t seem to snap his photos fast enough. Even some of her neighbors were coming outside. “Besides, I’m not leaving you out here alone,” she added. “They might try to double-team you or something.”
“I seriously doubt that. Both of them ain’t nothing but punks,”
Kentucky
replied, not taking his eyes off either opponent—the one preparing to charge him again and the one who kept barking orders.
“Show him who’s the real punk, Champ,” Fabian instructed, prompting his bodyguard to charge again.
“All he needs is a two-piece special and a biscuit,”
Kentucky
replied, moving swiftly out of the way again. But this time, he flung Champ up against the exterior of the apartment building, where Fabian was.
Then as the camera continued to flash,
Kentucky
administered that fast-food meal he spoke of with two blows to Champ’s head and a knockout uppercut to his chin.
* * * *
Seeing his bodyguard on the ground unconscious, Fabian began to tremble with fear. He knew he was next. “Stop snapping those pictures!” he yelled to the photographer, who was capturing every fearful shake on film.