Page 75 of Intentional Foul
“I’m not hugging you. We’re grown men,” he said.
“Marquise, get yo ass over here and hug me. Pops hugs you all the time.”
“He is our father,” he countered.
“We shared a womb,” I said.
When Marquise didn’t move, I moved closer, and he rocked his shoulders from side to side, emulating a boxer. Marquisetried avoiding my playful headlock, but he wasn’t quick enough. After an unserious squabble, we headed toward the door.
“Let’s find you a steady girlfriend,” I said.
“Take me to my room,” he joked.
Jhae
I tipped the people at the front desk with Malcolm’s black card before I exited the door. From head to toe, I was rejuvenated and ready to enjoy the rest of the island.
“Refreshed?”
I shifted to the left to find Malcolm and Marquise closing in on me. The sight of my husband in blue palm tree printed drawstring shorts and a fitted white tee sent a smile to my face.
“Yes. Now I need a nap,” I said.
Marquise leaned his upper body backward. “Nap. Did you say a nap? Napping is for old people... Aw shit. You’re what, thirty?”
I squinted my eyes in his direction.
“Jhae, you gotta work as my wingman. You can sleep later,” Marquise continued to tease.
Malcolm sat next to us and chuckled as Marquise and I squared off.
“We have a reservation to eat on the boat and then jet ski,” Malcolm informed after his long muscular arm wrapped around my waist.
I rolled my eyes at his brother before giving my attention to my husband.
“I want to drive a jet ski,” I requested with excitement.
“Hellll nawl,” Marquise and Malcolm both said in unison.
My mouth opened but shut at their response. “I can drive,” I said, stepping in front of them.
“Yeah, bumper cars. Mom and Malcolm don’t have the heart to tell you. But you cannot drive. The people in L.A. are safe and happy with you being down here,” Marquise said.
My mouth formed into anOat his response. Malcolm focused his attention on an inanimate object while he rubbed his fade.
“Malcolm.”
When he didn’t jump in to defend me, I sucked my teeth.
“There goes Dave, with our boat,” he said, grabbing my hand.
“I can drive,” I mumbled underneath my breath as we walked to our car.
It was nightfall before we returned to our private suites. The jet skis and good fish tacos had me ready to crash. I opened the door to our private room and my mouth dropped.
A blanket of red roses covered the floor. Floating tea candles and flowers adorned our walk out pool. Malcolm locked the door behind us, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Music Note, I want to make love to you on the bed of roses,” he whispered in my ear.
