This I Promise You (5 page)

She stroked his flat stomach and circled the indentation of his navel, causing him to suck in a breath and groan softly.

“Does that tickle?” she asked with an impish grin.

He laughed. “You know damn well what it does to me.” He caught her roaming hand and brought it to his mouth, making her shiver as he kissed her fingertips one by one.

She sighed, snuggling closer to him. “How was your meeting?”

“It went well,” he murmured.

“Yeah? Does that mean you guys have a strong enough case to move forward with the class action lawsuit?”

He kissed her temple. “I think we do.”

When he offered no more, she took it as a sign that he didn’t want to talk shop. Which was fine with her. After the mind-blowing sex they’d just had, she was perfectly content to just lay there and bask in their postcoital glow.

Tracing a lazy pattern on Quentin’s chest, she angled her head back to observe him. He was staring up at a framed poster on the wall above them. In the picture, Muhammad Ali snarled down at Sonny Liston with an expression of macho fury and triumph. The poster had been autographed by Ali many years ago when he visited the boxing gym Quentin and his father went to. Meeting the famous heavyweight champ had been one of the most exciting moments in Quentin’s life, the last memorable experience he’d shared with his father before he was killed.

“What if I quit practicing law to become a boxer?” Quentin mused softly.

Lexi laughed, cupping his cheek. “And risk messing up this pretty face? I don’t think so. And where’d
that
come from anyway?”

“Life has a way of shaking things up,” he murmured. “Might as well make the first move.”

Lexi went still, her smile fading. “What a cryptic thing to say.”

Quentin was silent.

Frowning, she pushed herself up on one elbow so she could see his face better. “Something you want to tell me?”

His broad chest lifted and fell, then he sighed. “No.”

Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t believe him. “Quentin—”

His gaze shifted to her. “It was just a joke, Lex. Obviously I’m too old to have a boxing career.”

She frowned. “It wasn’t just the boxing joke. It was the other comment you made about life shaking things up.” She searched his eyes. His long lashes were at half mast, guarding his thoughts. “What did you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” he murmured. “Just that life is unpredictable.”

She studied him another moment, then looked up at the poster and over at the punching bag. And suddenly she understood the source of his melancholy. He was missing his father, whose birthday had recently passed.

As a surge of protective tenderness swept through her, she reached out and traced his thick eyebrow with her fingertip. “Did you eat dinner?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “Marcus and I met Manny at the restaurant. Mike took a dinner break and joined us.”

Lexi smiled teasingly. “I bet you guys sat around complaining about your spoiled wives.”

Quentin’s lips quirked. “Of course.”

When she poked him in the ribs, he laughed and caught her hand, lacing their fingers together over his chest. His eyes glinted with a warmth that squeezed her heart and curled her toes.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I do.” She smiled tenderly. “And I love you.”

He pulled her back into his arms, his lips nuzzling her hair. She snuggled against him, her head settling into that place on his shoulder where it fit perfectly.

Feeling sated and safe in his strong embrace, she closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. “I learned a new massage technique at the spa today.”

“Yeah?”

“Umm-hmm.” She slid her hand over his chest, feeling his heart pound against her palm in perfect rhythm with hers. “I’ll show you when we go upstairs.”

“Mmm.” His voice was a low rumble. “Looking forward to it.”

“You’re gonna love it,” she promised before drifting off to sleep, unaware that he lay awake for a long time simply watching her and whispering her name.

5

T
he next morning, Lexi stepped through the front door of her mother’s house, keys jangling in her hand. “I’m here, Ma! You ready for church?”

When there was no answer, she moved through the foyer, following the sound of running water to the kitchen.

Carlene Austin stood at the sink rinsing out her coffee mug. She was wearing a plum-colored dress with the gold-and-ruby necklace Lexi had bought her during a recent shopping trip.

“Hey, Ma,” Lexi greeted her.

Carlene glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Hey, baby.”

Lexi crossed the room to hug her mother around the shoulders and kiss her soft cheek, careful not to muss her perfectly styled hair. Ever since she’d quit smoking, Carlene’s hair and skin had not only looked better; they smelled better too.

“You look beautiful,” Lexi told her.

“So do you, baby.” Carlene admired her belted navy blue dress paired with nude Christian Louboutin pumps. “You look so chic and stylish. Like you just stepped off the cover of
Vogue
.”

“Why, thank you.” Lexi pretended to preen as she patted her freshly flat-ironed hair. It had grown like weeds during her pregnancy, so she now sported a shoulder-length bob with the longish, sideswept bangs Quentin loved so much.

Carlene placed her mug in the dishwasher and then reached for a towel to dry her hands. “Have you already had breakfast?”

Lexi smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

She and Quentin had eaten breakfast on the balcony outside their bedroom. With the sun warm on their faces, they’d dined at a leisurely pace, eating off each other’s forks and sipping from the same glass like a couple of honeymooners.

Carlene gave an amused snort. “Judging by that smile on your face, you and Quentin probably skipped food altogether and had
each other
for
breakfast.”

Lexi laughed. “Well…”

Her mother shook her head. “The way you and your husband carry on, you’re gonna mess around and have back-to-back babies like Taylor did.”

Lexi grinned. “No, we’re not. We agreed to wait until Junior turns one before we start trying again. Until then, the minipill is my best friend.”

Carlene snorted. “Famous last words.”

Lexi laughed. “Wait a minute. What’s wrong with this picture? You’re a grandmother now. You’re supposed to want more grandchildren. That’s all Quentin’s mom can talk about.”

Carlene bristled, tossing down the dish towel. “
I’m
not Quentin’s mom.”

Lexi instantly realized her mistake. “I know that. I wasn’t saying you should be. I just…”

“Just what?”

“Nothing.” Out of habit, Lexi grabbed a dishcloth to wipe granules of sugar from the counter. She could feel an argument brewing and didn’t want to fuel it. But she couldn’t resist pointing out to her mother, “You know, it wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world if I’d gotten pregnant right away. I’m certainly not getting any younger.”

“That’s true,” Carlene agreed, putting away the bag of coffee beans before Lexi beat her to it. “The sooner you give Junior a sibling, the better. And I’d love more grandbabies, of course. But I know what a handful children are, especially when they’re young. Taking care of them can be very stressful.” She paused. “But at least you had the luxury of quitting your teaching job to stay home with your child.”

“I didn’t quit,” Lexi corrected, pretending not to hear the twinge of jealousy in her mother’s voice. “I’m still employed at Le Cordon Bleu. I just took a year off to be with Junior and get started on my next cookbook.”

“A privilege not many women enjoy.
I
certainly didn’t,” Carlene said bitterly. “Your worthless father made sure of that.”

“I know, Ma.” Lexi was now wiping down the entire counter. “Believe me, I’m well aware of how fortunate I am.”

“
Very
fortunate,” Carlene asserted. “Your husband is a big-shot lawyer who makes millions every year. You’d never have to work another day in your life if you chose not to.”

“I know. And I’m very grateful to have that option. But I enjoy working and keeping myself busy.” She saw no reason to point out to her mother that while Quentin was indisputably the breadwinner, the advances and royalties she earned from her cookbooks were more than enough for her to comfortably support herself if she ever had to.

“I know you enjoy staying busy,” Carlene drawled, looking amused as she watched Lexi move from the counter to the breakfast table. “You’ve always been a little bundle of energy. How else could you do all that volunteer work, mentor those Spelman girls, be a consultant on Michael’s show, write your cookbooks and
still
hold it down at home?”

Lexi paused in her cleaning. “Do I hear a compliment somewhere in there?”

Her mother gave her an aggrieved look. “Why do you sound so surprised? This isn’t the first time I’ve complimented your multitasking skills.”

“No, it isn’t.” But it didn’t happen very often.

For the past two years, mother and daughter had been seeing a therapist to help them work through issues stemming from Lexi’s childhood, which included a traumatic event that had nearly left her dead. They’d come a long way in mending their troubled relationship, but they still had a ways to go.

“Have you talked to your brother lately?” Carlene asked, changing the subject.

“I have,” Lexi said with a smile. “I called him on the way over here. He says everything’s going well, and he and Ava should be back in another week or so.”

Her younger brother, Colby, had gotten married that summer to an attorney he’d met when they were opposing counsel on a lawsuit. After they got engaged, Ava had resigned from her law firm to become a partner at Wolf & Reddick. Last week she and Colby had been dispatched to the firm’s Washington, D.C. office to assist with a big new case.

Carlene was frowning. “I’ve been trying to reach Colby for the past two days. I find it interesting that he took
your
call but not mine.”

Lexi bit back a weary sigh. “He’s been really busy, Ma. You know the long hours they work. The only reason I caught him is because it’s Sunday morning, and he and Ava decided to take the day off to go sightseeing.”

Carlene looked slightly mollified by that.

Taking advantage of the reprieve, Lexi glanced at the clock on the microwave. “We should get going. We still need to pick up Junior and Quentin’s mother on the way to church.”

Carlene nodded. “Let me go put on my shoes.”

Lexi gave the table one last swipe with the dishcloth and tidied up a few more things before leaving the kitchen. Her mother met her in the foyer with her purse tucked into the crook of her arm.

They left the house together and walked out to the gleaming white custom Mercedes-Benz parked in the driveway. Quentin had surprised Lexi with the car on their one-year anniversary. She remembered the way he’d guided her outside with his hands covering her eyes, his voice like hot silk against her ear as he’d warned her not to peek. When she finally opened her eyes and saw the brand-new S-Class with a huge red bow wrapped around it, she’d let out the biggest squeal and jumped into his arms, showering his face with kisses before she burst into tears.

Smiling at the memory, Lexi slid behind the steering wheel as her mother settled into the passenger seat. Carlene swept an admiring glance around the plush leather interior as if it were her first time riding in the vehicle.

“I don’t know how you keep this car so clean with a child. But then, you’ve always been a neat freak.” She fastened her seatbelt and cackled softly. “Just wait till Junior gets older and starts spilling juice and leaving his toys everywhere. What will you do then?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Lexi said dryly, backing out of the driveway.

On the way to Georgina Reddick’s house, Carlene complained about her grandson staying overnight with Quentin’s mother.

“Why couldn’t I have kept him last night? I wasn’t busy.”

“I know, Ma.” Lexi took a deep breath and slowly released it. “As I already told you, Quentin made the arrangements with his mother when he and the fellas set up the spa day. It was a surprise, remember? I didn’t know anything about it.”

Carlene harrumphed. “It just seems that every time you and Quentin need a babysitter, you leave Junior with Georgina. And then you wonder why the boy feels more comfortable around
her
than me.”

“That’s not true, Ma,” Lexi protested. “You’ve kept Junior plenty of times.”

“Not as often as Georgina.” Carlene sniffed. “I just hope when your brother and Ava have a baby, I won’t have to compete with
her
mother just to spend time with my grandchild.”

Lexi mentally counted to ten before responding, “No one’s making you compete with Quentin’s mother. You know you can see Junior anytime you want. The only reason Georgina spends more time with him is because she’s retired. Since she’s home during the day, she insists on keeping him for me whenever I have to go out, and I appreciate her for that.”

Carlene huffed, glaring out the window. “Well—”

Lexi reached over and touched her mother’s arm, stopping her midsentence.

When Carlene shot her a startled look, she smiled imploringly. “Remember what Dr. Blumenthal warned us about dwelling on negative thoughts? It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, Ma. Let’s focus on that, all right? Let’s focus on all the wonderful things we’re grateful for.”

Carlene lowered her gaze to Lexi’s hand on her arm. After a few moments, her expression softened and she nodded humbly. “You’re right, baby. I didn’t mean to fuss at you.”

“I know.” Lexi gently squeezed her arm. “We’re getting there.”

Mother and daughter shared an understanding smile.

When they arrived at Quentin’s mother’s house, she came to the door putting on a pair of pearl-drop earrings. As always, she looked effortlessly elegant in a cream dress with a strand of pearls at her neck and matching pumps on her feet. Her makeup was subtle, her lipstick a muted shade of pink that flattered her honey complexion.

“Hey, baby.” She greeted Lexi with a warm hug and kiss, then smiled graciously at her mother. “Good morning, Carlene. You look lovely.”

The compliment took some of the starch out of Carlene’s spine. “Thank you, Georgina. So do you.”

Georgina closed the door and led the way to the living room. “Junior’s been keeping himself busy while I finish getting ready for church.”

The baby sat in a playpen surrounded by an assortment of brightly colored toys. Drool ran down his chin as he banged around a plastic giraffe with gleeful, spastic enthusiasm. When he looked up and saw his mother enter the room, his eyes lit up. He tossed the toy aside and stretched out his arms to her.

“Hey, baby boy.” Lexi scooped him out of the playpen and snuggled him against her chest, savoring his fresh baby scent and the softness of his skin. “I missed you, Cuddlebug. Were you good for Grandma?”

“Are you kidding? He’s
always
good for Grandma,” Georgina cooed to the gurgling baby. When he grinned at her, she laughed. “He’s got his daddy’s personality, always grinning and putting on the charm.”

“I know,” Lexi agreed with a laugh. “He’s such a flirt.”

“Is he ever.” Georgina smiled, stroking her grandson’s hair. “He had a big breakfast—oatmeal, bananas and a whole bottle of milk. So he shouldn’t be hungry for a while.”

Lexi grinned. “This is Junior we’re talking about, right?”

Georgina laughed. “I see your point.”

When the baby looked at Carlene, she held out her arms with a hopeful smile. “Will you come to Grandma?”

As Junior eyed her dubiously, Lexi found herself holding her breath. When the baby finally went to her mother, she nearly sagged in relief. As Carlene took her grandson in her arms and held him close, her expression of tender gratitude brought a soft smile to Lexi’s face.

As they were leaving the house a few minutes later, an attractive older black man walked past with a grizzled German Shepherd. Lexi recognized him as Georgina’s friendly neighbor from down the street.

When he saw them, he stopped to smile and wave. “Hello, there.”

Georgina waved back. “Hello, Henry.”

“Heading out for church?”

“We are.” Georgina put an arm around Lexi’s shoulders. “You remember my daughter-in-law, Alexis, don’t you?”

“Of course. Nice to see you again, Alexis.”

Lexi smiled at him. “Same to you, Mr. Duncan.”

“And this is her mother, Carlene Austin.”

The man nodded to Carlene. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Carlene murmured before busying herself with strapping Junior into his car seat.

Henry’s warm gaze returned to Georgina. “I baked an extra loaf of zucchini bread for you. Thought I’d bring it by when you get home.”

Lexi watched in fascination as a pretty blush stole over Georgina’s cheeks.

“That’s awfully sweet of you, Henry,” she said, fingering the strand of pearls around her neck. “I’m going to a friend’s house after church, so I won’t be home until this evening.”