Page 20

GERMAYNE

“ D on’t tell Mommy, but I’m glad you’re taking me to get my haircut, Mr. Germayne.” Caleb smiles and takes my hand when I open the back door to let him out of my SUV.

“It’ll be our secret, C.” My chest is sticking out, and my gait is confident when Caleb and I enter the building, heading toward Ricardo’s suite.

“Oh sh—shoot. What’s up, C money? Germayne,” Ricardo greets when Caleb and I enter his room less than five minutes later.

“Hi, Mr. Ricardo. Me and Mr. Germayne are here for our haircuts. I need to stay fly,” Caleb says, pulling at his shirt and causing Ricardo and I to laugh at his antics.

“For sure, C money. Have a seat, and I’ll get you together,” Ricardo taps the chair, holding a cape to drape over Caleb.

Caleb hops into the chair, swinging his little feet back and forth with his eyes on the mounted TV. Ricardo applies the cape before walking toward me and whispering so Caleb can’t hear.

“You a slick one, I see. How did you pull this off?”

“Pressure and prayers. God favors me, my boy,” I say.

“Big ups to the King of Kings because you definitely got yourself a winner. Much respect, G,” Ricardo says, dapping me and returning to Caleb to start on his cut.

This moment feels organic and one I’ll treasure forever as a goofy grin upturns my lips at hearing Caleb tell Ricardo about our big boy outing once we finish our haircuts.

“Hey! If it’s not my favorite little person in the world.” Chaniya’s grandmother greets Caleb after opening her front door.

I asked Chaniya if I could be the one to exchange Caleb with her grandmother tonight.

Despite the pulsing within Chaniya’s temple vein, I pushed the offer so I could have a brief word with her grandmother.

Based on my heart's fast tempo, I’m unsure if I’ve made the right decision.

However, I have to try because I want forever with Chaniya and Caleb, so I must iron out whatever weeds may stick up in objection.

“Hi, Nana. I missed you,” Caleb replies, returning my focus to the present.

“Go inside. I want to talk to your mom’s friend. I’ll be in there shortly,” Nana tells Caleb, who turns, waving to me before darting inside the house.

When Nana’s intense gaze returns to me, I fight the urge to show emotion or showcase the shiver sliding down my spine. Never let them see you sweat. You got this. Love is your only agenda here. Purpose over persecution. Mind over ? —

“I hope that whatever this little melee between us right now has nothing to do with the woman you brought to my house not long ago,” Nana says, placing her right hand on her robust waist.

Mind over matter. Courage over fear.

“Kinda, but not for the reason you might think. I don’t want to shift the dynamics between us, Ms.—

“Calling me by that name instead of the one I gave you in the beginning will certainly fast-track a change in our dynamics.” Nana cuts me off.

“My bad, Nana. While I might not be privileged to know the story behind you and Grandma Jolene’s issue, the irrelevance is the same for me because securing my place in Caleb and Chaniya’s lives is the only thing that matters to me.

I ask that you judge me according to my actions and not the bad blood you have with my grandmother.

The two aren’t created equal, and I desire to have a relationship with you once we join together as a family. ”

Nana steps fully onto the porch and circles around me like I’m about to be auctioned off to whoever has pockets deep enough to obtain me.

“You’re cocky. You’re handsome. Your stature is promising.

You’re bold. Clearly, you don’t have a problem battling a tough opponent.

All the qualities my babies will need in the man trying to solidify his position in their lives.

Keep your grandmother in check, and we’ll be good.

” With that, Nana reenters her home, slamming the door in my face, and a sly smirk upturns my lips.

Say less, Nana.

“You were up there for a while. Why won’t you tell me what y’all talked about?” Chaniya pouts.

Low laughter escapes my mouth, causing me to set my glass down while giving Chaniya my undivided attention.

“Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, Cha-Cha. I promise.”

Since Nana called for Caleb, I decided an impromptu date would allow Chaniya and me to enjoy a meal prepared by someone else.

On the nights I’m not working, Chaniya or I cook so she, Caleb, and I can have dinner together.

To not shift Caleb’s routine too much, dinner is at their house.

I had plans for the three of us to spend the evening at my house so Caleb could start getting acquainted with my space, but Nana called, requesting him.

Chaniya said she’s been keeping Caleb home with her since that day at Nana’s when I met her family.

“Did she mention my mother?”

My forehead wrinkles, and my mouth twists at the question because, other than the cold shoulder Chaniya’s mother had given me, her name hasn’t come up.

“Should she have?” I counter.

The faraway and blank expression removing the light and beam in Chaniya’s eyes has me placing my hands on the table while readying myself for what’s coming. Chaniya’s vibrant eyes are now full of shadows and torment, pushing me to probe further.

“What’s the look about? Is there something going on with your mom?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Whatever you need. Or is this something we shouldn’t discuss throughout tonight’s date? I don’t like the look in your eyes.”

“Dinner, then confession. How does that sound?”

A frown downturns my lips, and my stomach sours at the loaded question that causes Chaniya’s eyes to flash with varying yet unreadable expressions.

“Where would you like to talk? I personally think we should do it lying under the stars on my deck.”

Chaniya’s eyes clear, and giggles come from her mouth which loosens the noose around my stomach before she speaks.

“I’ve been to your house several times and didn’t know your back deck holds secrets.”

“I’m capable of secret-keeping. The deck is simply a backdrop because a beautiful night like the one we’re experiencing should be enjoyed. I have a firepit on it and everything, just in case you get chilly.”

“Okay. Dinner, then deck. I can live with that. Now, can we change the subject to something less heavy?”

“For sure. What color panties are you wearing?”

Liquid from the sip of wine Chaniya just drank spills onto the table, along with the sound of her laughter. My heart stretches at the jovial sound and the corresponding glow in her eyes.

“There’s my pretty Cha-Cha. I don’t give a damn what’s going on. Don’t ever let anyone tip your crown.” My voice is heavy yet low to my ears, and I’m helpless to change it due to how I feel and the fast tempo of my heart.

Man, I love the fuck outta this woman.

“I’m okay. Thank you ba—by.” Chaniya stalls when her eyes stare at someone approaching our table.

“What’s good, new booty, Yaya? I didn’t expect to see you when I returned to the city.” Some light-skin man speaks to Chaniya, causing her face to ashen.

“You don’t see me sitting here, my boy? Clearly, somebody in your lineage taught you the importance of manners,” I interject.

The boulder in my stomach at seeing Chaniya’s face and the instant misting in her eyes shifts the temperature within my body.

“Don’t mind me, bro. I’ve had this sweet piece of ass before, and I promise you it ain’t nothing to write home about.” Ole boy speaks with a smug grin while slowly roaming Chaniya’s appearance.

A humorless chuckle leaves my mouth before I lift the napkin from my lap and toss it on the table. Without another word, I stand to my full height, towering over buddy by at least two inches, and size him up.

“Uh—”

“Nah, Cha-Cha. Don’t shift your crown. I got this shit,” I say before shifting my attention and gaze to the buster still standing at our table.

“It’s cute that you’re flexing over a bi?—”

My fists slam into the dude’s mouth before he can finish his statement, causing the other patrons to shout and gasp at the disturbance. Commotion and feet charging toward our direction penetrate my ears. However, my attention is on the man who wrote a check his ass shouldn’t have attempted to cash.

*whap, whap*

Punching the man twice more, I grit my teeth when he sloppily throws his fists up like he’s about this life.

“You a punk. How the fuck you?—”

*whap, whap*

Hitting him twice more without breaking a sweat while he’s wasting time talking, all I see is red and the desire to kill him for spewing such hateful words about my woman. Feeling several hands tugging at my arms, I attempt to shrug them off until someone jumps in front of me, shoving me backward.

“Chill, G man. You’re a fucking professional with shit to lose. Go to my office and cool the fuck off,” Jarrod demands.

Coming down from the red haze I’ve been in for an unknown time, I turn to our table only to find it empty.

“Where the fuck is Cha-Cha?”

“My woman took her to the bathroom to calm down or whatever women need to do after seeing their men beat a nigga’s ass. Now go. I’ll handle this bullshit,” Jarrod informs me in a deadpan tone that doesn’t broker an argument.

Jarrod owns a small restaurant called It’s Good and Moody, and it had been the perfect place for a meal with my lady. Jarrod is a chef, and his dishes are inspired by family members with his flare added.

“Go on, bro. I got you,” Jarrod encourages, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I move after giving the dude one final glance.

“Bitch ass,” I grumble.

“That wasn’t quite what I had in mind when you suggested we enjoy a meal out,” Chaniya speaks, causing me to shift my gaze from the sky to her.

We’ve been at my crib for the last two hours, and things have mostly been quiet between us. The silence has been good for me because I’ve used it to completely release the aggression the fight caused within me.

“I’m sorry, Chaniya. I should have handled the situation better. It?—”

“I didn’t have a problem with you defending me. I only left because I needed a minute to cool down. Nobody has acted so violently about me before. My hormones were buzzing louder than the stings your hands were causing his face.”

A sinister grin slides into place, and my gaze intensifies along with the twitching of my dick once my brain registers her words.

“Note to self . . . Beat a nigga’s ass every once in a while, to keep things spicy. Bet.”

“He was one of the guys I slept with the night Caleb was created,” Chaniya informs me, breaking our heated stare.

“I figured as much from the bullshit he was spewing.” Heat fills my ears, and my blood simmers with fire at the memory of what had been said without shame.

“Going to that house party not only changed the trajectory of my life but it cemented my mom’s hatred toward me.

What’s worse is Jeff, the jock whose ass you beat tonight, is who invited me.

He and I met when he helped me avoid a second accident when someone hit my car and fled the scene.

I got more than I bargained for by allowing Jeff, Spencer, and Wally to slide between my legs that night. ”

“Spencer? Wally?” My nose twists, and my eyes tighten at the cornball names Chaniya has spoken.

“Mhm. Spencer isn’t black. Wally is mixed, and of course, Jeff is black. Somehow, the three had me thinking I was living out a fantasy I didn’t have.”

An image of Caleb pops into my mind, and I automatically rule out Spencer because Caleb’s features don’t lend way for Spencer to be his father.

This leaves the other two, and based on the dude’s complexion and the other guy being mixed, it could be a toss-up if I had to guess.

Fuck that. Caleb is my damn son! Neither of those men will ever change that.

“After what happened tonight, I’m perfectly fine with none of them knowing about Caleb. Being in Jeff’s presence again made me think about what type of parent he would be, and I’m good on all that. I’ll continue being a si?—”

“You’re a mother, for sure, but single, you’re not.” I interject before she can finish the statement that no longer applies to her.

Hell, if I have it my way, Caleb won’t be fatherless this time next year.

“Should I have said something about Caleb’s existence to Jeff tonight?”

“Before or after he got off the ventilator?”

Shiddd, . . . fuck Jeff and Wally. Caleb already has a dad.