A Heart Not Easily Broken (The Butterfly Memoirs) Page 3

  First, I needed to take a shower and wash off the odors of the animal clinic where I worked as a veterinarian’s assistant. Juggling both jobs was a lot of work, but the rewards were well worth it.

  I closed my eyes and groaned. Oh, no, I reeked. No wonder Brian grinned like an idiot when he thought I wasn’t looking. It wasn’t as if he could talk. His shirt clung to his body, saturated with sweat as though he had run through my neighbor’s sprinklers.

  I sighed, grabbed my things, and headed upstairs.

  Unable to resist, I stacked the books on my desk and pulled out one that caught my attention the most. It dealt with the daily care of orangutans. The topic interested me most because of the zoo’s recent addition. Baby Nala was born a few days ago, but sadly, her mother died. It was now up to the zoo’s staff to provide the care she needed to keep her healthy until she matured enough to join the zoo exhibit. As an intern, I would be one of the select few tasked with this job. It promised to be a very rewarding experience.

  After a quick review, I set the book down. The lasagna had another forty-five minutes to cook. I walked over to my window to check on the guys’ progress. They were nearly finished. It wouldn’t be long before Brian would be looking for payment.

  Crap. He never answered my question. If he didn’t accept checks, he would have to follow me to the ATM.

  I stripped down and reached in the shower to adjust the water temperature. Body wash in hand, I stepped into the steaming water.

  The stench of work swirled down the drain, replaced by the scent of melons while the water caressed my body like a summer breeze. I pulled off my ponytail holder, letting the water run down my face while washing my hair. The next time Brian smelled me, I wanted it to be something soft and sweet, not animalistic.

  Hold on, why did it matter how I smelled? Irritated by the thought, I scrubbed a little harder.

  Brian smelled nice at the club. His rough, callused palm felt nice too. No wonder. He did more than strum a guitar all day. I admired that.

  Getting out of the shower, I toweled off. Even though Brian was five times sweatier than when we’d met, it somehow made him more attractive. When I realized it was he standing at the truck, I assumed he would demand to know why I avoided his invitation. Instead, he’d been cordial, thank God, making the surprise easier on both of us. He was definitely about his business.

  Oiled up, smelling good, my damp hair in a bun, and wearing a pair of cotton shorts and tank top, I headed back down to the kitchen. The lasagna should be nearing completion and so should Brian.

  The buzzing sound of yard equipment drew my attention to the bay window. Somehow, they’d gotten over the locked gate. Oops, I’d forgotten to take the chain off before hopping in the shower. He was resourceful too.

  Brian stood with his weed whacker, swinging it in a controlled arch along the fence. My eyes widened; the man was shirtless. The man had an incredibly strong looking back. His shorts hung loosely from his hips, exposing the top of his underwear from the weight of the sweat-stained shirt stuffed under his belt. Hmm, boxers or briefs? Sweat ran in heavy rivulets down his shoulder blades, trickling to the already damp shorts.

  None of that compared to the way he looked when he turned around to speak to one of the guys working with him. His long torso, free of body fat, sported a light sprinkling of blond hair between his pecs. His abdomen showed every cut of muscle I’d seen in high school biology textbooks. His abs were tight, his belly button nearly nonexistent.

  Brian’s bronzed skin reminded me of a Greek statue, a testament of many hours spent working outside. His backward baseball cap hid the thick blond curls I’d seen at the club. The damp ringlets hung below its rim, accentuating his square facial structure and the shape of his nose. His blue eyes seemed to glow from deep within his skin.

  Brian was unbelievably sexy.

  One of the younger guys stepped into my line of sight, blocking my continued admiration of his anatomy. I bit my lip in irritation until Brian extended an arm. My eyes widened at the sight of tattoos over well-defined muscle. Intricate dark rings banded both biceps. How did I miss that? Oh yeah, his abs had distracted me. Curious, I stepped closer to the blinds, parting them. Damn, I couldn’t see the entire design. What was it?

  At that moment, Brian faced the window. He remained expressionless for a moment before he squinted, then smiled.

  Busted.

  My face felt crimson. I took a moment to clear the expression on my face before grabbing three cold bottles of water out of the refrigerator and walking outside.

  I surveyed the yard while offering him a bottle. “It looks good.”

  “It sure does.”

  I glanced at him. He didn’t hide the fact his gaze started at my bare legs and slowly traveled back up. His expression made his thoughts apparent. I started to open my mouth and comment, until our eyes met. His gaze sent a warm tingle along my skin, reminding me of the way I felt when he held my hand.

  “Thanks for the water,” he added, before whistling to get the other workers’ attention.

  Try as I might, it was impossible to keep my eyes off his body when his back was to me. I took the opportunity to peek at his tattoos again. Standing this close, I could make out a little more of the intricate design. To truly see it, I would have to get close, so close I could…

  I looked up to find his lips tilted in a lopsided grin. Damn, busted again.

  Not wanting him to think I was impressed, I forced my face to stay blank. “How much is it going to cost?” It was impossible to ignore the laugher hidden in those gorgeous blue orbs.

  Brian took long draws of water, apparently in no rush to answer my question. I forced my eyes to stay on his and ignore the fact that sweat should not look so good.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean? You’ve been here for nearly an hour.”

  He shrugged, pulled a rag from his pocket, wiped his face, and then dragged the thing down his chest. I automatically followed the movement before snapping my eyes back to his. A slow grin spread across his face.

  “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how honest you’re going to be with me.”

  I clamped my jaw tight while crossing my arms, fighting the irritation building. Brian apparently thought he could do or say anything to get his way. He did it when buying me a drink at the club. He’d done it when assuming I’d meet him in VIP. Now this.

  My lack of a sex life and unexplained physical attraction to him made my irritability worse.

  “Honest about what?” I ground out.

  Brian’s eyes flashed with humor as he finished off the last of his water. “Why didn’t you meet me the other night? I looked for you, waited around thinking maybe you got stuck in the bathroom.” He crossed his arms, taking a wide stance. “Nothing. Not a note, not a message left with security. You just disappeared.”

  Realization hit me. “You’re going to charge me more because I didn’t hook up with you?”

  “Hey, don’t put words in my mouth. I haven’t decided what to charge. That’s not the same thing.”

  “Okay, so what you really mean is if you like my answer, I’ll get a discount. If you don’t, then you’re going to screw me.”

  Brian’s mischievous smile caused me to suck my teeth. Bad choice of words.

  “Overcharging my customers is not good for business.” He chuckled. “Besides, offering a discount would be an incentive for you to answer the question and not avoid it the same way you avoided me.” He paused to unhook the weed whacker’s strap from around his neck and set it on the ground. He rolled his neck and shoulders then crossed his arms and resumed his wide-legged stance.

  I glanced down and noticed the slight bow in his muscular legs. Damn, he looked good.

  “Brian.” I forced myself to stare at the men bagging lawn clippings. “I went home.”

  “Obviously. Why didn’t you stick around? You could have left your number if you
needed to leave.”

  Brian regarded me intently while waiting for my reply. His scrutiny made me nervous.

  I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out. “Why do you care? There were plenty of women ready to jump at the opportunity to be with you. Why are you interested in me?”

  “Why not? I’ve seen most of those women before.” He laughed at my screwed up facial expression. “That didn’t come out right. What I mean is they are all the same. None of them have caught my attention like you do.”

  My mind went back to the buffet of women available at the bar, the brunette who gave me the evil eye, red heads, a few blonds, women of every size and shape.

  “So you wanted me because I’m black. Or is it because you saw me wearing a tight dress and figured you’d get me in bed as a trophy. You know, sex with a black woman?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m an educated black woman with a good head on my shoulders, not some ‘ho from the hood. If that’s what you want, then I suggest you go take a ride down−”

  Brian’s dimples popped as his lips pulled back in a hearty laugh. He shook his head. “I knew there was something about you I liked.”

  I stared at him in confusion. Was he serious?

  “You’re feisty and don’t hold back, I like that. And yes, the color of your skin did have something to do with it.”

  I pointed a finger at him. “See, that’s what I thought.” I moved to march back inside, steam practically blowing from my ears.

  “No, I’m pretty sure you’re thinking the wrong thing. Your skin is beautiful. And by the way, I’ve dated black women before.”

  That comment put the brakes on my exit. “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not. But the color of your skin is not why I want to take you out.” His head cocked to the side as if remembering something. “Wait a minute, you’re avoiding my question. Why did you stand me up?”

  “Stand you up? We weren’t on a date. You assumed I’d come running because you bought me a drink. Was I supposed to be impressed?”

  A roguish grin appeared. “Most women would have been. Honestly, I’m glad you didn’t. It makes you more interesting.”

  I smirked. “Interesting, yeah right. Would I have been this interesting if we never saw each other again?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not, I guess we’ll never know. What I do know is we’re here now. It’s a second chance to get to know you. I already know your name, where you live…” He wagged his eyebrows in an attempt to make me laugh I suppose.

  It didn’t work. My internal alarm began to chime. If he didn’t like my answer, would he start stalking me?

  He raised a hand to tick off fingers. “You’re educated, you have a smart mouth, and you’re not supposed to be attracted to me.” He creased his eyebrows in thought. “That’s not enough, I’ve got more questions.”

  Vexed beyond belief, I threw my hands up in surrender.

  “Okay, fine. If it will save money, I’ll play along. What’s the question?”

  He grinned in victory while I massaged the bridge of my nose.

  “Do you have a problem going out with me because I’m white?” he asked, straight to the point.

  “What?”

  His hands went up in defense. “Hey, you’re the one who made a big deal about it. Me? I see a sexy woman who’s got more to offer than just her looks and a body that’s…well, there’s a lot more going on, I’m curious. So what do you say?”

  That was unexpected. It took several tries before I could open my mouth. “No, I don’t have a problem with you being white.”

  “Somehow I find that hard to believe,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  “Well, it’s true. One of my best friends and roommate is white,” I said in defense.

  “Good. Since race is not a problem, go out with me tomorrow night.”

  Chapter 4

  I slapped a square of steaming lasagna on Yasmine’s plate.

  Yasmine watched it slide onto the table when I dropped the plate in front of her. “Whoa, Ebony, what’s wrong with you?”

  “You guys promised to stay out of my love life.”

  Her eyes were small slits when she looked up at me. “Yeah, so what’s your point?”

  My attention went to Kaitlyn. “Oh, don’t try to play innocent, you were in on it, too,” I said, stomping toward the refrigerator.

  “In on what?”Kaitlyn’s hazel eyes widened. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

  I rolled my eyes in exasperation and slammed the refrigerator door, salad dressing in hand. “Both of you set this up.”

  Kaitlyn’s eyebrows crunched together. “Set what up?”

  I studied her perplexed expression. Kaitlyn wasn’t good at lying, which could only mean one thing. Yasmine was the true source of my irritation.

  “Brian.” I turned to face her. “You lied. You do know him. I came home to find him standing in our yard. You’re the one who set this up.” I grabbed my plate from the counter and intentionally dragged my chair from the table, hoping the scraping noise irritated my roommates.

  “Excuse me?” Yasmine’s well-trimmed eyebrows arched. “The only Brian I know is a guy I dated a year ago. He’s a male dancer.”

  I ground my teeth. Between Yasmine and Brian, my dentist would make a lot of money.

  “Yes, you do,” I reminded her with a thin amount of patience. “You called him to cut the grass. You know, the same Brian I met at the club.”

  Kaitlyn held up a hand. “Hold up. You mean the white guy? The one you dissed, was here?”

  “I chose to ignore his invitation. It’s not the same thing.”

  Yasmine sat up straight in her chair, all hints of her irritation disappeared. “Wait a minute, how did he find out where you lived?”

  “Because you called him.” I fought the urge to yell my response.

  “No, the number I called belonged to Javan’s roommate.” Yasmine said.

  Both women were silent, watching me as the pieces clicked together.

  My mouth dropped open. “Oh. My. God.”

  “What?” Kaitlyn focused on me.

  “This is unbelievable. Brian is Javan’s roommate. I thought it was the drummer.” I laughed in disbelief.

  Yasmine’s eyebrows narrowed in confusion. “Did I miss something?”

  My anger deflated. “I’m sorry you guys.”

  Yasmine picked up a generous helping with her fork. “All’s forgiven as long as this lasagna isn’t burnt.”

  Kaitlyn’s food remained untouched. “Are you gonna tell us what happened or what?”

  Aware of their questioning faces, I leaned forward to rest my elbows on the table. “Well, you got the gist of it. Brian”

  “The one you dissed,” Kaitlyn inserted.

  “Yes, him. It turns out Brian does more than play in a band. He owns a lawn care business and cuts grass during the day.”

  “Hmm, on a first name basis and the man has two jobs, impressive.”

  I cut my eyes at Yasmine.

  “What?” She shrugged.

  “Anyway, he started flirting with me.” I paused for a moment, remembering the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, the man is fine, just not my type.”

  “Because he’s white?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “No.” Brian’s gloriously half-naked, sweaty skin and devilish blue eyes were committed to memory. “He’s just not…” I waved a hand over my body. “I like a man with a lot of muscle.”

  Yasmine smirked. “That’s the excuse you’re using?”

  “Okay, I appreciate a good-looking man of any race. But when it comes to dating, I can’t imagine being in an interracial relationship. First, there’s the whole “we-don’t-have-anything-in-common” thing followed by the “look-at-them-staring-at-us” thing. And let’s not forget the “bring-a-white-boy-home-to-meet-your-family” thing. And oh my God, there’s the”

  Yasmine put her hand in the air. “Okay, we get it; you have a problem with dating a
white guy.” She shook her head. “Ebony, let’s be real. Your family lives three thousand miles away. Besides, you’re not trying to marry the man; you’re trying to get your freak on. If black is what you need, wait till its dark and turn off the damn light.”

  Kaitlyn nearly choked on a mouthful of food, while I howled in laughter. Yasmine joined in. We laughed until tears streamed from our eyes. No matter what the situation, Yasmine kept it real.

  “Is this based on personal experiences?” I asked when able to speak again.

  “Yeah, and hello? Black father, white mother.” Yasmine smirked. “Besides, I’ve been there, done a hell of a lot of that. Black, white, Hispanic, Asian…” she counted off each with her fingers.

  “How could I forget? You’re an equal opportunity lover,” I mocked.

  “Smart ass.” She smiled. “Think about it. You mix black with any race and you get a whole lot of beautiful. Vanessa Williams, Halle Berry, Shemar Moore. Mmm, he’s yummy, Vin Diesel—”

  “Oh, don’t forget Tiger Woods,” Kaitlyn added enthusiastically.

  We both shot her a questioning glance.

  “Okay…he’s got a whole lot of everybody in him. Too much though, because he is not cute,” Yasmine stated.

  “But he’s paid,” Kaitlyn pointed out.

  “She’s got a point there,” I agreed.

  We all laughed.

  “Back to the story. You guys recognized each other…” Yasmine prompted.

  “We recognized each other all right. He was nonchalant and all business. Until I went to give him some water, then he changed on me.”

  Yasmine laughed.

  Kaitlyn’s eyebrows narrowed. “Whad’ya mean?”

  “Well, Brian stopped being professional and accused me of standing him up. He wanted to know why I didn’t meet him and insisted on an honest answer.” I stared down at my plate, pushing pieces of broken lasagna around with my fork. “So I told him he wasn’t my type.”

  “You are never going to get laid,” Yasmine muttered.