Exclusive Love: A Second Chance Romance (Blazin' Love Book 3), page 1
Exclusive Love
Blazin’ Love Book Three
Ja’Nese Dixon
Also by Ja’Nese Dixon
Read the Series
Blazin’ Love (Contemporary Romance)
Platinum Love (Book 1)
Privileged Love (Book 2)
Exclusive Love (Book 3)
Chosen Love (Book 4)
Special Love (Book 5) (Coming June 2019)
Steamy Sensations Holiday Love
EXCLUSIVE LOVE. Copyright © 2019 by Ja’Nese Dixon
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organization and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
ISBN-13: 978-1-950405-04-6 (paperback)
Printed in the United States of America.
Contents
About Exclusive Love
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Author’s Note
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His sweet chocolate kisses are off limits!
It’s Easter Sunday.
I’m sitting on the pew next to my Mom, handling my daughter duties when HE—Darius Grant— walks in sparking thoughts that guarantee I’m going straight to hell with gasoline panties on.
I’m Charlee Stuart. I’ve joined my best friends in starting an elite concierge service. My assignment is to find premium services for our upscale clientele. Truth is, I have no idea what I'm doing, but I won't fail my guys.
He takes the seat in front of me blocking my view. At six foot, fine, and filthy rich, I'm hoping I won't be struck by lightning. Then I remember Darius is off limits. But his chocolates may be just what I need to test my skills of persuasion.
I’m not the kind of woman to chase a dude, but I might hop in his direction. And I’m making a promise on this hard-ass pew before the Man and my momma, that I will not…will not fall for Darius again.
Then he turns and winks in my direction. For the love of things hot and tempting, please...
Father...take me now!
Chapter 1
Charlee
“My mamma’s gonna kill me.”
I’m driving through the streets of Austin on two of my four wheels, using every ounce of power in my V8 engine. There’s a yellow light between the church and me and I consider running it when by instinct I slam on my breaks.
“Sorry.” I wave a hand, scaring a little old lady and myself. She flips the bird, and I don’t have time to be offended. I hook a right and circle the block, swooping my sports car in the first available space.
Today, I’m thankful for Daddy’s guilt gift. I made it across town in half the ETA thanks to heavy foot and my Audi jumping at the chance to show out. I hop out then realize I forgot something, “My Bible.”
I run back and grab my childhood bible from the door. I’m not a regular church attendee, but I know the black girl rules.
We always, always attend church at least three times a year. Mother’s Day, Easter, and Christmas. Those three days keep me in my mother’s and aunt’s good graces, and I can skip a few spaces on the prayer list when life seems unfair, and I need a little grace, like today.
I try to run, but it’s more of a shuffle up the sidewalk. My pencil skirt won’t allow much movement. I enter the air-conditioned building brushing my sweaty hair to the side and plopping my wide-brimmed Sunday hat on my head.
I grab a program from the usher rolling her eyes at me and use it to fan my face. Like I don’t know I’m late. Whatever.
I peak at the mirror in the little bathroom and gasp at the sight. I need to do some damage control. I run in grabbing a handful of tissue, drying the sweat. I glance up and send up a prayer.
“Lord I promise to stop leaving at the last minute if you don’t let my momma cuss me out for being late.”
I’m exaggerating. My mother won’t really cuss me out. But her eyes will no doubt make up for what her mouth won’t say.
I glance through the diamond window on the old wood swinging doors that lead to the sanctuary. I’m searching for her, and of course, she’s on the third row sitting near the center aisle.
I see my guys a few rows back from my mother, and there’s an empty seat on the end. Praise God, the fifth row it is. I tip-toe inside on the balls of my feet trying to keep the click of my heels to a minimum. I make it to the end of pew and Taylor picks up the purse she had holding my seat.
“Thank you," I whisper, dropping to the hard wood.
“You’d be late to your own funeral.” She whispers laughing behind the church fan.
“Hush.” I pull at the hem of my skirt and take a deep sigh of relief, maybe momma didn’t notice.
“Charlee.” I glance towards the harsh tone. Or maybe not. She gives a not so discreet nod to the empty space beside her. I roll my eyes, in my head, cause, I ain’t crazy. I look down the pew and Hunter, Harper, Chase, and Taylor are laughing. I can’t hear it, but the shake of their shoulders is proof enough.
“I can’t stand y’all—”
“Charlee Raine—” Now she’s hissing my middle name. I stand and leave a perfectly good seat. Thankfully the choir is moving to the front so my seat switch won’t draw too much attention until I have to scoot pass a million people to get to my mother.
“Excuse me…excuse me…pardon me….” I drop with an unladylike thud next to my mother.
“I guess I know what I need to get you for Christmas.” My mother says without moving her lips.
“What?”
“A watch.” My head snaps in her direction.
“Ha ha Ma.” I kiss her cheek and wiggle to get comfortable. I glance over my shoulder to see the guys still laughing. I stick out my tongue like we did as kids and Chase is trying to cover her laughter with a cough.
“Charlee Raine Stuart.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turn as the choir director motions for the choir to stand in unison, and I lean closer to my mother to enjoy the Easter morning service.
An hour in and I’m glad I didn’t miss the children speeches. They laugh, cry, and have to be pulled off the stage for freezing. Then Pastor Dillard stands behind the pulpit.
“Show the babies some love y’all.” The audience claps and shouts to encourage the children as they walk out the sanctuary in a single-file line. “Before we get to this morning’s message I want to bring up a very special member of Agape Love’s family. Darius Grant, will you join me?” Pastor Dillard gestures to the stage and the congregation claps. “He’s one of our own. Y’all can do better than that.”
My mother digs an elbow into my side. Still clapping with the rest of the members. But I can’t take my eyes off the man walking to the front. I haven’t seen him since he walked out of my life to travel the world. He said he wanted to learn from the best of the best. And his plans didn’t include me.
Darius throws up a hand acknowledging the applause he’s receiving, and then his eyes settle on mine. I glance down at my hands not trusting myself and my lingering feelings for him. I’m liable to kiss him or kick him in the nuts.
What is he doing here? I can hear the whispers around me. No doubt the mothers are sending smoke signals to their daughters because Darius stands close to six feet and is finer than frog hair. His custom suit shows off his broad shoulders and lean body. He has a confident swagger, and he’s part of the beard gang, and it looks good on him.
I cross my legs a little tighter. Scooting over a little from my mother because I can’t have lightning striking us both down for the thoughts going through my head. Because the look in his eyes says, he’s thinking what I’m thinking. And I shouldn’t be thinking what I’m thinking in the Lord’s house.
I look at the fan covered ceiling praying for relief and a plan of escape.
“Brother Darius. I hear you’re thinking about returning home.”
I glance back at the pulpit.
“Yes, sir I am.” He smiles, and I swear a collective sigh rings across the sanctuary. “I am here meeting with some people about relocating Delicious Chocolates headquarters to Austin, TX.”
The audience claps.
“This will mean jobs.” Pastor Dillard confirms.
“Yes, sir.” There’s more clapping and women standing to their feet, waving handkerchiefs towards him. I snort.
I glance over my shoulder at the guys and roll my eyes good and hard this time. Harper gives a sympathetic shrug.
“And we hope opportunities to partner with people right here in my own community," Darius says.
My spidey sense kicks in. I look back at Hunter giving her my best, Did you hear that? look. She tosses a Go gettum smirk, and Mr. Darius Grant is more than a fine man in a suit. He just might be the answer to my prayers.
My guys aren’t just my guys, but they are my sisters, my best friends, and my business partners. Hunter started Platinum Privilege, an elite concierge service, and we all hold a percentage. Hunter and her husband Ben carry the heaviest load, handling the day to day operations, contract negotiations, and such. And the rest of us—Harper, Parker, Chase, Taylor, Payton, Alex, Ryann, Jordan, and I—supply our family connections, funding, and social juice.
I’m still fumbling around when it comes to the business part. But I love when we get dressed in our Men in Black suits—dubbed GIB, Guys in Black—and watch heads turn in awe of ten fine-ass black women strolling like the bosses we are.
I cringe, I probably shouldn’t use the word ass in church. I’ll blame it on my higher than normal stress levels.
Hunter started passing out assignments for each of us to handle before she has the babies. Mine is to find a couple of premium services for our upscale clients, and I’m failing, big time.
I never thought trying to persuade business owners to work with us would be so damn hard. I did it again. I smack my head and shake the curse words from my mind. I need to ask the Man for a hand, and I can’t do it with a potty mouth—as my mother would call it. I look back towards the men and listen intently.
“I always thought he’d be my son-in-law," Mamma whispers.
“Don’t Ma.”
I can’t entertain those types of thoughts because Darius Grant is off limits.
I've been there, done that, and my body and heart can tell the tale. He’s the man that knows all my secrets. The man I can’t use a fake smile to hide my insecurities. The man who proved, like my father, that men like him don’t stick around.
Not for the long haul.
So, Darius in all his finest can’t come near my heart, but he may be precisely what I need to get my boss-lady feet wet.
I need to prove to myself and the guys that I can hold my own in the partnership. That I’m more than a good laugh and the life of the party—although I’m those things too. And who knows, maybe this will be the opportunity I need to start a new career for myself instead of working for the family business when needed and collecting my inheritance.
I roll my shoulders back and listen for any other clues I need to get some alone time with Darius to discuss Delicious Chocolates. We are a local business, and we once were friends. I’m confident I can convince him to work with us.
My mother jabs me in the side again as Darius heads towards us. Then he enters the pew in front us with more grace than I could muster. People turn and stand as he approaches. He nods showing his pearly whites, but his eyes never stray too far from mine. Then he stops at the seat directly in front of me.
“Hello, Mrs. Stuart.”
“Hey, baby.” My mother says as if he’s not a full grown-ass man.
“Charlee.”
“Darius.” The heat in his eyes is a downright sin. Heat starts in my gut and bursts through my body. I can’t stop it, and the cocky smile on his face tells me he knows it. “Stop.” I hiss.
“Yes, ma’am Charlee Raine.” He moves to turn back to the front but not before tossing a wink my way. Then I see the back of his head.
“You need to bag that one baby.” My mother whispers for my ears to hear.
“Mamma, did you just say bag?” I ask as we stand to hear the scripture read.
“Ain’t that how y’all young folks say it?” She winks over her shoulder, turning back to the front.
I shake my head. I can’t deal with her. I close my eyes taking several deep breaths. I have a private meeting with my mind, heart, and woman parts. We cannot, will not get sucked into Darius Grant’s clutches. Amen. I add for good measure because I need all the help I can get.
Chapter 2
Darius
“Son, me and your mother, go way back.” Her hand slinks up and down my arm.
I hold back a cringe, releasing her hand. Then I take a step back.
This must be the new season of The Bachelor. I shake hands and pass out business cards. I hear about kids graduating from college, and I’m extended several forceful dinner offers, like this one.
“Helen, I haven’t seen you in forever.” My mother appears like an angel, and I kiss her cheek. “You better get moving boy because you know this one ain’t wrap too tight.” She mumbles, and it takes a higher power to keep from laughing.
Pastor Dillard’s enthusiasm makes me excited about moving Delicious Chocolate home. But business isn’t my only reason for returning.
My quest to make something of myself and build my business made the world my home. But no one replaces my mother and the woman I left behind. It took traveling to exotic places and seeing the best the world has to offer to determine that there was something…better yet someone missing. And for all of my entrepreneur ambition, one woman has the power to make me stay.
Charlee.
The thought of finding love playing dodge ball is hilarious. I called her Charlie Brown, and she planted a basketball smack in my face. I gathered my bleeding nose in my hands and glared at the crazy girl with fire in her eyes. “I bet you won’t say that again,” was her retort with a hand on her hip. I thought she broke my nose and after going to the principal's office and serving detention for a week, I knew that she was my woman.
I chuckle at the thought of her discomfort this morning. I can only imagine the smart remarks running through her head.
I knew I’d see her this morning in church, yet I was unprepared for the feelings she’s unleashed. I keep on ear an the conversation between my mother and Miss Helen as I search the crowd.
The service closed a half hour ago, but most of the congregation is hanging out on the lawn waiting for the kids to finish with the Easter egg hunt. The sea of people is finely dressed. Women in an array of spring pinks, yellows, and mint greens. Men in suits and ties. The smell of fried fish lingers in the air. The robust sound of talking and laughter puts a smile on my face.
Then I feel a tinkling sensation. I glance over my shoulder, and a stunning group of women is heading in my direction. Most of the faces are familiar. I sweep their group until I land on the woman who has seared herself to my soul and secured a leash to my heart.
Charlee Raine Stuart.
I feel a hand embrace my forearm and I glance towards my mother. She knows. She knows what this moment means to me. How I left needing to prove myself and I’m returning a better version of myself, but I want more.
It might be selfish. But my gut tells me my more is wrapped up in the woman that had a legion of soldiers guarding her heart. I clench a fist at my side a few times to relieve the tension mounting in my chest.
Today, Charlee’s wearing a mustard yellow body contouring dress. The slight tilt of her wide brim Sunday hat gives her eyes an alluring appearance and put her full lips on display.
She’s talking with her friends. I let my eyes get a full drink. She’s never been tall, but the high heels place her near chin height. She’s what I’d call slim thick, and she carries her thickness in all the right places. My hands ache to caress her curves, and I know it’s only a matter of time.
