Page 29 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“More than okay, I’ve thought about it and wasn’t sure where your head was at, that’s the only reason why I didn’t invite you to stay in my room.”
“I understand.”
She takes a breath before putting herself out there. “You can stay in my room tonight, if you’d like.”
He looks surprised, his eyes wide as he fumbles his words. “I’d … uh … I’d love to. But I’m having tea with two princesseslater, and I usually stay over at their palace after I have tea with them.”
Lyric’s brows furrow in confusion.
“I’m staying over at Mike and Hunter’s place. Chance and the girls are coming by and so is Sef and his family. My presence has been requested by my two nieces, Chance’s girls. They insist that Uncle Ranson stay over when I see them,” he explains.
“Oh, that’s adorable.”
“Thank you.”
“I love being an auntie.”
“Yeah, being the cool, rich uncle is fun as hell. I love spoiling my babies. Bridget’s kids get spoiled by you too, don’t they?”
“All the time. All of us aunties are pitching in to get her eldest, LJ, a car for college. The plan was to get him a car if he got into one of his top five schools, and he’s gotten into three.”
“That’s what’s up! Congratulations to LJ.”
“Bridget’s always getting on us about spoiling him and his sister, Tanya.”
“Forget that—spoil those kids. It’s tough enough for Black kids in this world. They need a safe space, and their family should provide that through love and buying them stuff.”
Lyric snorts out a laugh. “Bridget would look at me and say,‘Not you using the Black card to spoil my children, Ric.That’s weak.’”
She does the perfect imitation of Bridget, making Ranson almost spit out the juice he was sipping. “That’s the second time you’ve almost made me do a spit take.”
“One day, I’m going to make it happen.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He becomes serious. “Believe me, Lyric, if it weren’t for my prior engagement, I would be in your bed in a heartbeat.”
Heat creeps up her face again. “Stop making me blush, sir.”
“I’m going to make you scream my name soon. Believe that,” Ranson states.
“While I have no doubt of your ability to do that, and I don’t mean for this to sound bad?—”
“Uh-oh,” he says.
“No, it’s just that your name isn’t moanable.”
“I’m sorry?” Ranson looks at her aggrieved.
“I’m sorry, baby, but it’s not. You’re sexy as all get out, but your name ain’t moanable. What’s your middle name?”
“It’s Shakir, but I’ll have you know plenty of women have had no problem moaning my name.”
“Shakir works for me.” Lyric thinks for second. “Mmmm, Shakir,” she moans. “Yeah, that works.”
Ranson looks at her like a wolf who just found a juicy, injured deer.
“Do that again,” he says gruffly.
“Mmmm, Shakir,” Lyric moans slowly.
