Page 35 of Waiting for Friday Night

She squeezed her thighs as heat turned into the burn of desire. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. She was attracted to Gregory. But this, this thing Quinton just stirred in her, was wild and hot and raw and completely unexpected.

“I have everything I need,” she blurted out. Embarrassed by how she felt and the train of her thoughts.

“Do you?” The quiet question wrapped around her like red silk and pulled tight.

She swallowed hard. “I do.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth. She licked her lips. His gaze rose back to hers. He didn’t come closer, but she saw that he wanted to. That he was thinking what she was thinking. Saw it, and her heart impersonated a jackrabbit in her chest.

Then he took a step back. His expression cleared and he nodded. “Fine.”

She blinked. Waited for him to say more. He didn’t. Just watched her. She lifted her chin. This was good. He understood what she was saying. “So we’re clear.”

“Very clear. Let’s go find Shania.” He turned and walked out.

Halle watched him saunter away and frowned. This was not fine.

He shouldn’t have come. He wasn’t supposed to come. But damn his competitive spirit. Halle wasn’t his. She made it very clear that she wanted Gregory. He was not the man she would have picked for Shania’s father, but damn if he didn’t want to prove that since he was her father that fate hadn’t made a mistake. He wasn’t going to be pushed out.

Feeling unwanted or underestimated wasn’t new to him. He’d battled against that most of his life and had proven his worthiness ten times over. He’d considered himself over the need to prove himself to anyone again, but Halle hit his buttons. One thing he knew was that he didn’t back down from a challenge. He’d known he was going to show up the minute Halle insisted Gregory was coming so he wasn’t needed.

He spotted his friend Cyril talking with Imani and a few other people beneath one of the picnic shelters. Sliding on his aviator sunglasses and Peachtree Cove High School baseball cap, Quinton took a deep breath and crossed the grassy field toward the shelter. Cyril noticed him first. His friend grinned and waved him over. Imani turned toward him; her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She turned back to Cyril and said something. Quinton was too far away to hear but didn’t need to. The what’s he doing here look followed by Cyril’s quick shrug told him everything.

“Q, you decided to come,” Cyril said when he got close.

“I did. You said you needed a little help with the flag football, so here I am.”

Imani raised a brow. “Flag football, huh? That’s what you’re here for?”

Quinton turned to her. “Yep.”

She shook her head. “Alright,” she said in a this is going to be interesting tone of voice. “Quinton, these are my cousins and their spouses.” Imani introduced the three men and two women, who then turned and pointed out their kids either sitting beneath the shelter on their phones or enjoying the playground equipment nearby.

Some Quinton recognized from around town. Others he learned were from out of town and here for their cousins’ day.

“What is cousins’ day, exactly?” Quinton asked.

Imani’s cousin Mick answered. He looked to be in his late thirties, with dreadlocks that hung down his back and a broad smile. “After our grandmother passed a few years back, the family didn’t get together for holidays like they used to. This is our way to keep the family together.”

Quinton nodded and tried to think about the last time he hung out with his cousins. His mom was one of five and his dad the youngest of three. His aunts and uncles had struggled to get by just as much as his parents had. Each of them scattered to different parts of the country and rarely came together without a wedding or funeral involved. He was cool with a good many of his cousins, but honestly, they didn’t call him unless they needed something.

“Does everyone come?” he asked.

Mick shrugged. “Most everyone. If they can’t, no big deal. We’ll catch ’em the next time.”

“You came up with the idea?”

Mick shook his head. “Nah, it was Halle’s idea.”

Quinton wasn’t surprised. If Halle spotted a problem, she would find a way to solve it. The family drifting apart would be the kind of thing that would spur her to pull everyone back together.

Imani’s eyes lit up and she pointed. “There’s Halle.”

Even though his heart rate picked up and his stomach clenched, Quinton turned slowly in the direction she indicated. He was glad he wore shades, so any hint of his uncertainty was hidden behind the reflective lenses. When he spotted her, he was happy the shades blocked his expression for another reason. His eyes widened at the sight of Halle in a pair of short basketball shorts, which left her thick thighs and long legs out for his viewing pleasure. Her smooth shoulders were bare in a sleeveless sports top that she’d tied into a knot at the front, revealing an enticing sliver of cinnamon-brown skin. Quinton licked his lips. She looked damn good dressed like this.

Shania walked to Halle’s right and waved. Gregory stood on Halle’s left. Quinton’s brows knitted together. She had brought him. When her eyes landed on Quinton they narrowed and her lips pressed into a line.

“Right on time,” Mick said before frowning. “Did you bring the coolers?”

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