Page 25 of A Taste of Grace

Caleb Stallings:

I will. You look cute with the girls btw. *smiley face wink emoji*

Caleb was such a flirt, but I liked it so much. I was tempted to respond back, but I needed to stick to the girls’ strict routine.

I tucked the girls in their beds by 9:15 p.m. Around 10:45, I woke up as heavy rain pelted against the windows. Nothing put me to sleep faster than a thunderstorm. The last thing I remembered was plopping on the comfortable couch in the family room to watch a movie.

The headlights from Caleb’s car flashed across the blinds in the front room before turning dark. I lowered the volume on the forty-two-inch television and turned it off, placing the intricate remote on the wooden coffee table in front of me. I hopped up and quickly folded the comfortable, oversized throw that covered me, making sure to place it in the exact position it was in when I arrived.

When I stood, the two lamps in the room illuminated my outfit. I looked down my body and focused on my thin leggings and socked feet, realizing how casual I appeared. The snug Angela Davis black t-shirt with her neatly shaped black afro said “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I’m changing the things I cannot accept” in bold black letters.

This shirt was one of the few I still wore from my undergraduate days at Tuskegee University almost twenty years ago. Although it was priceless to me, the worn cotton had faded and shrunk. It didn’t help that my body had grown several sizes since I graduated with my degree in educational psychology.

That combination hugged my pronounced DD-size bust and caused my curvy hips and butt to poke out of my leggings like they were besties. I tugged the shirt over my protruding bust andtried to stretch the hem of my shirt as best as I could, but knew I still looked a mess. I regretted dressing like this was my home.

I calculated if I could rush to the kids’ bedroom, grab the clothes I arrived in, and change in the bathroom before he entered. I didn’t want Caleb to think I was trying to tempt him at booty o’clock in his house.

You have to plan your life better, Grace.

I stood in the threshold of the open frame separating the modest-sized kitchen and the living room and then scurried toward the bedrooms as quickly as I could. The doorknob turned with Caleb entering quicker than I anticipated.

“Grace? Are you okay?” His deep voice registered concern.

I stopped in my tracks and then turned around quickly to face him. His heavenly scent filled my nose like a cartoon scent bubble, even several feet away. Although his voice sounded slightly weary, he looked delicious and more tempting than should be allowed this late at night.

Since I didn’t want to run away like a frightened rat, I stood straight and held my head high. His eyes met mine. Much like our initial meeting, we stared each other down. I held the bottom of my shirt and forced myself not to squirm. Since this outfit was painted on like a second skin, I hoped my nipples weren’t poking out disrespectfully.

“It was great. Please forgive my appearance.”

“Why? You look good.” Caleb paused as he read my shirt.

His eyes lowered slowly to my hips, legs, and feet before walking toward me.

“Thank you. I was on my way to the girls’ room to grab my bag and change. I brought comfortable clothes since I didn’t know if I’d be doing something messy.” I rambled on.

“My girls can be pretty rough. I’d hate for you to mess up those good clothes fingerpainting or baking with them.” Hetightened his lips and blinked several times as he stared at my leggings.

Good clothes? Where?

His slow and deliberate voice filled the room at a volume that was respectful and sensual—or maybe I wasn’t used to hearing the sound of a Southern man who was undoubtedly an eloquent orator. A bundle of nerves and excitement overtook me.

There was that dry sense of humor again. Maybe it was the leader and daddy in him. He wasn’t the stereotype I thought he was. To become a father, he had to be familiar with tits and ass, so I dropped my hands to my side and spoke to him like I had good sense. I wasn’t a darn baby.

“Did you have a good time, Pastor?”

“I can’t complain. How were you and the girls?”

In a nonsexual way, he loosened his black tie and slid it from his shirt collar before unbuttoning the top two buttons of his starched white shirt, revealing that pretty chest hair again. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as if he were exhausted.

I bit my lip. The way Caleb undressed was a sexy, natural move. The romance author in me could almost hear sultry strains of a nineties R&B song as the low recessed lights in the kitchen highlighted Caleb’s strong jaw and pretty brown skin that had me yearning to pet him like a mink coat.

“They are precious. You have done an amazing job raising them. If I ever become a mother, I want daughters just like them.”

“Hopefully, you’ll get that chance one day soon.”

That was enough. I couldn’t help but laugh at how Caleb and I spoke in code. I crossed my arms and took a deep breath.

“What are we doing here?” I motioned between the two of us.

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