Page 7 of Layla

“Oh my gosh!” she said.

“It’s sort of our tradition,” Margo explained. “At least, we’re making it one. We haven’t been a community long but why not start making traditions now?”

“Yeah, this is a sisterhood,” Beatrice said proudly. “We’re all here for each other. We’ll encourage one another, no matter what.”

Layla looked to Courtney, expecting to see disgust etched on her beautiful face.

Instead, though, she saw that look again.

Longing.

Hoping.

Desire.

Layla thanked the women for the gift but silently said a prayer for her friend.

Perhaps one day, and soon, Courtney would find her own version of Kirk.

Perhaps soon, she’d know the joy of being taken in hand.

Chapter Four

“You okay?” Layla asked.

She was walking with Courtney on the sidewalk in front of the community center.

“I know that was probably super weird for you. I’m sorry.”

They walked a few more paces before Courtney responded. “Don’t be. I’m so happy for you. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Layla said.

“It’s just…this is…new to me.”

“I know. And you have the right to feel the way you feel about it. But it means the world to me that you’re trying to understand. A lot of people would just cut and run.”

“I’d never leave you,” Courtney said.

“I know that, too,” Layla said.

“You know,” Courtney said, “it isn’t too late. I’m just saying if you’re having second thoughts, we could run off and—”

“Second thoughts? Are you kidding? I can’t wait to marry that man,” Layla said. She was trying not to be offended. She knew her friend was just looking out for her. “Life is exactly how I want it. Trust me.”

“You can really do…all this? You can submit?”

“It’s what I want,” Layla explained. “It’s who I am.”

For a moment she thought Courtney was going to try and counter that statement but thankfully she didn’t say anything.

The women joined hands and continued walking. They’d gone a few yards when Courtney spoke again. The tension had eased as she said, “Well hello. Who is that?”

Layla looked straight ahead to see Kirk coming toward her, his friend Peyton walking beside him.

“Hottie alert!” Courtney continued, perhaps a bit louder than she’d intended.

She wasn’t wrong, Layla thought. While no one was as handsome as her Kirk, Peyton was darn near close. He was almost the polar opposite, though. While Kirk was a cowboy—a real one and not just some urban poser who wore the outfit—Peyton was a city boy, through and through. He’d been raised in Houston and made a career for himself in the city’s bustling financial market. He was worth millions but thankfully didn’t put on airs. That being said, he did enjoy nice things. Just as Kirk looked the part of a cowboy, Peyton looked like a multi-millionaire investment guru. Even strolling down the sidewalk, he wore expensive slacks, a tailored dress shirt, and shoes that probably cost more than most people made in a month. He fit those clothes nicely, too, with his tone physique rippling in all the right places. Courtney’s eyes fell, particularly, to those jagged, bulging shoulders.

---