Lovers' Dance (75 page)

“At least we’ll have a chance to chill out before everyone gets home,” I said when we were a few blocks away from the house I’d grown up in. “The service today will be a long one.”

Matt made an interested sound at the back of his throat, but he was busy looking out the tinted windows as we drove down the streets. I doubted he’d been in Queens before. It wasn’t Forest Hills, but Glendale was a lovely neighbourhood and my uncle had worked his ass off to get a place here. Aunt Cleo never let us forget how lucky we were to be raised there. I was getting nervous, worried over Matt’s perception of the house, of my family. Ten minutes later, the limo parked in front the house. I inhaled deeply, filled with excitement and dread. I was home, with Matt.

“We’re here,” I announced a touch breathlessly.

Matt gave me a real smile, noting the excitement on my face. “Yes, we are.”

The chauffeur opened the door on Matt’s side. I tightened my hold on his hand, stopping his movement to get out.

“I adore you, Matt, and thank you for agreeing to stay at Hannah’s condo.”

His smile slipped, but quickly returned. “Of course, poppet. Think nothing of it. I’ll probably spend most of my time here with you anyway. I want to get to know your family, and we’re only here for a week. Come on, I’m sure you can’t wait to step through the front door.”

I grinned at him and he helped me out the limo. Our cases were being taken from the trunk. Matt hurried over to advise the man only my stuff was being unloaded. I grabbed my handbag, rifling through it for keys I hadn’t used in ages. I was home.

“Madison?” A high-pitched voice had Matt and me wincing. “It is you. Errol! Come out here, Errol. Madison’s home. In a limo.”

I turned around and, sure enough, Patricia Holmes, the street’s busybody was hurrying out of her front gate from across the road. Damn. She must have been seated behind the curtains in her front room casting her hawk eyes over the street. How could I forget about Ms Patsy, and why the hell wasn’t she in church? My fingers latched on to the keys and I tugged it out, shoving it into Matt’s hand.

“Run,” I hissed.

Matt’s grey eyes widened. “Pardon?”

Ms Patsy was halfway across the street, her rotund figure moving unbelievably fast. Seconds, I had seconds before she descended upon us.

“Go open up for me.”

“But I don’t know which key—” He broke off when I nudged him forward, but it was too late. We were about to be Patsified.   

“I don’t believe it,” she gushed, wrapping her thick arms around me and cutting off my air supply as she smothered my face in her enormous and cloyingly sweet-smelling boobs. “Your aunt said you were coming home, but I told her you would probably be too busy and not to get her hopes up. Sherice was so upset Dante couldn’t come home. That boy is breaking his momma’s heart. Let me look at you.”

I gasped air in as she released me from the embrace and gripped my cheeks between her hands, twisting my face side to side. Goshdarnit. My face wouldn’t have changed. Did she have to squeeze so hard? I caught a glimpse of Matt as my head was forcibly swivelled side to side. He was wearing his aloof mask, one that clearly said: stay back. The Hulk was hovering not too far from us.

“Ms Patsy—” I tried to speak, but she was squishing my cheeks. I jerked my head back. Freedom. “Hi, Ms Patsy. How are you?”

“I’m good, girl,” she said, excited gaze locked on Matt and moving towards him. “Is this the boyfriend, Madison? I’ve been reading about you two on the Internet. He’s bigger than what I expected.”

My knight looked alarmed, probably envisioning his head smothered between her boobs and not looking forward to the prospect. Ms Patsy liked to hug, a lot. Before she absorbed his handsome face into her boobs, the Hulk took a quick step, strategically placing himself right next to Matt. Ms Patsy’s gaze swung to him. Her almost black eyes widened. Ryan was a couple of inches taller than Matt, and he was beefed up, practically bursting the seams of his suit.

Matt shot him a hard glance and Hulk slunk back, giving us space.

“Hello.” Matt held a hand out. “Matthew Bradley and, yes, I am the boyfriend.”

I stepped back with a pitying shake of my head at Matt. He would regret making Hulk back off soon enough.

Ms Patsy looked at his hand before pushing it away. “Oh, I love your accent. Come here you. No need to be formal. Madison’s like family to me, so that makes you family.” Her arms were currently around Matt’s neck as she squeezed him tightly.

I bet he was regretting Hulk not wrestling Ms Patsy to the ground.

“So big and strong,” she cooed, hands sliding down his back. Matt gave me a look over her shoulder. A ‘get her off me’ look. I folded my arms and grinned.

“Ah, yes,” he said coolly, as he politely tried to extricate himself from her hold. His eyebrows flew up, and I grinned wider. His ass had been patted by Ms Patsy. Not only was she always in everyone else’s business, but she liked big men and wasn’t afraid to show her appreciation in a physical manner. Errol Holmes, her husband wasn’t big or strong.

Matt managed to ease away from my neighbour’s grip and he stepped closer to me. He looked dazed; he’d been Patsified.

The Escalade pulled up to the curb behind the limo. I groaned internally, noting Ms Patsy’s alert eyes as she observed the beefy men inside the vehicle getting ready to exit.

Matt looked over and barely shook his head in their direction. It was enough though. The men did not exit the SUV.

Ms Patsy saw it all.

“Well,” I said loudly to get her attention. “We should head inside, Ms Patsy. We’re exhausted. It was a long flight. I’ll see you soon. And tell Mr Holmes I said hi. Bye now.”

I hung my hand bag over one shoulder, grabbed Matt’s arm and marched him up the path to the front door. Ms Patsy stood at the bottom of the drive, excitedly watching the chauffeur carrying my bags behind us.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, slipping the key in. “She’ll be texting everyone in a minute, including Aunt Cleo.”

Matt slid his hand over my waist. “Is that a problem, poppet? Your aunt knew we were arriving this morning.”

I turned the key and looked up at him. “Yes, but Ms Patsy will gloat that she’s the first person to meet you and—let’s get inside. I need to pee.”

I pushed the door open and stopped, eyes whipping around. I was back. Everything was exactly as I remembered from my last visit. Fresh flowers in vases around the front room. Uncle David’s stack of car magazines on the shelf under the coffee table. The plump cushions placed neatly across the long sofa and matching armchair. Jamal’s PS4 slotted in the glass cabinet next to the DVD player. The fifty inch TV I had bought for Uncle David on my last visit had been moved to the corner of the living room. Aunt Cleo hated it being centre, said it was a distraction. And everything looked spotless as usual. There was not a speck of dust hiding around the numerous pictures on the mantelpiece.

“Poppet.” Matt’s deep voice came from behind me. “You’re blocking the entrance.”

“Sorry.” I walked inside, holding the door open for him.

Matt took my cases off the chauffeur and waved him away, before easing my hand off the door knob and shutting it. He looked around, then at my smiling face.

“This looks nice.”

“Yes?”

“Very nice, it looks spotless. How come your terrace isn’t as—”

My hand landing in the middle of his chest shut him up. Matt laughed and pulled me up against him.

“Are you glad to be back?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Not still scared?” he asked, leaning down to tease my lips with a kiss.

“I’ll reserve judgement on that once I’ve introduced you to my family,” I replied with a wink, then wrapped my arms around his neck and claimed his lips as my own.

“Right,” he said softly, eyes darkening to a shade that made my insides quiver. “Are you going to give me the tour? It never ceases to amaze me the building materials used for houses over here. I’m used to brick and mortar, wooden houses feel—”

“You’d better stop right there, Matt,” I warned with a grin. “Auntie Cleo might have installed listening devices throughout the house. It would explain how she always knew when we were getting up to mischief as kids. Come on, I’ll give you the tour with a bathroom stop in between.”

Holding his hand, I led him throughout the house on a tour. There was the required toilet stop so, in total, it took twenty five minutes. It had taken him almost an hour to give me a tour of his home in Surrey the night I met his family.

“It’s a lovely home, poppet,” Matt repeated once we ended up in the kitchen, Aunt Cleo’s pride and joy. It was an open plan with the dining space and bright. I stood in the middle of the space and exhaled. I loved this kitchen. There was unprepared food set out. We would go to church on a Sunday and, upon returning, Aunt Cleo and I would be in the kitchen starting on lunch. Sometimes we didn’t change out of our church clothes. Even after I had moved out into my apartment, my Sundays were spent here. I immediately pushed up the sleeves of my ribbed sweater and started prepping for lunch under Matt’s amused gaze.

“You have a thing with cooking, don’t you?” he mused, coming up behind me.

I leaned back into his frame, enjoying the comforting warmth emanating from his body. “It was right here I learnt to cook. I remember having this painted Tinker Bell stool when I was little, and I would pull it up to the counter and watch Auntie Cleo as she cooked. Jamal would be outside with Uncle David, and Jenny would be watching cartoons in the sitting room. It was just me and Auntie Cleo. She would let me help and, she used to say that when you cook for your family, you must do it with love. That way you would literally be feeding them love.” I blushed, glad he was behind me and couldn’t see my face. “Corny, right?”

“Not at all,” Matt replied, slipping his arms around my waist in a relaxed hold. “I think it’s sweet. Do you need a hand with anything?”

“Nope,” I said. “I could do with space to move about freely though. As much as I love your hugs, it makes it hard to cook.”

Matt bent his head over my shoulder, nestling his face in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply. His fingers were busy in an attempt to undo the buttons on my jeans.

“Matt—”

“Mhmm,” he murmured.

“What are you doing?” I asked the obvious. The top button was undone, followed by the second.

“If you don’t know what I’m intending on doing by now, poppet, I’ll have to show you.” Matt nibbled my earlobe and a shiver of desire ran through me. We hadn’t made love Saturday night. By the time we’d driven back from Dante’s, it was late and we’d crashed in Matt’s bed as soon as our heads had hit the pillows.

“Umm, Matt, we can’t.” I tried to wriggle away, but that elicited a low groan from his lips. He stopped undoing my buttons and grabbed my hips, holding me flush against his hardening body.

“Do that again, poppet,” he said huskily.

I chuckled, standing completely still. “Unhand me at once. I need to start on lunch,” I commanded.

“What time are they expected back?” he asked instead.

“Around eleven.”

“Mmm, plenty of time.” Matt resumed nuzzling behind my ear. His hold on my hips hadn’t let up one bit.

“Matt.” I injected as much firmness in my voice as humanly possible. “We can’t. I—”

“And why not? We’re alone, and I need to taste you, poppet.” His hands left my hips to attack my buttons again.

I turned to look at him, face set with haughty disapproval. “In my aunt’s kitchen? Not going to happen, Matt.”

“The couch in the front room looks comfy,” he suggested wickedly.

I shook my head and the beginnings of a frown started at the corner of his lips.

“One of the bedrooms upstairs?” he asked, eyebrows lowering in frustration at another shake of my head. Matt straightened up, and I tilted my head to hold his gaze. “What exactly are you saying to me? Because it sounds like you’re unwilling to let me make love to you.”

I grinned at the put out expression on his features. I don’t think Matt ever had to deal with someone turning down his advances.

“Matt, I’m not going to have sex under this roof. Aunt Cleo would know—”

“How in the bloody hell would she know, Madison?” Matt groused, cutting me off mid-sentence. “We’re consenting adults—”

“It’s disrespectful, and kind of icky. Did you have sex under your parents’ roof when you lived there?”

Matt’s face said it all. He boinked under his parents’ roof. Did no one respect that unspoken, but totally understood, rule?

“Well, this is—” He stepped away and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Completely unexpected, Madison.”

I flashed white teeth, and said with a sweetness that was laced with guilty revenge, “Why don’t you look at it as if we’re dating, Matt?”

His eyes widened, then narrowed into grey slits of dawning understanding. Payback was a bitch. I wasn’t doing it deliberately. Seriously, the thought of having sex anywhere in this house freaked me out. But I’d admit to feeling some measure of satisfaction at the frustration on his features.

Matt grimaced as he towered over me. “Low blow, poppet,” he begrudgingly said, then his face brightened. “Never mind, you’ll be spending time at the condo with me. I can have my way with you there.”