Busted

“He’s a writer.”

The words came from behind them. The door, open just a crack, and as they turned their heads, Neeci slipped inside, looking at Ressa with vaguely accusatory eyes.

Fuck a duck, Ressa thought sourly. “Neeci, this doesn’t concern you,” she said softly.

Neeci ignored her, staring at her grandmother. “He’s a writer, Gra

Ressa just stared at her cousin. Where did she learn about hot?

Angeline made a low hmmmm under her breath. “It makes a little more sense now . . . I think. Although I’m curious as to who this writer and the hot brother is. By the way, Neeci, you can get married when you’re fifty and after you’re done with college. And no more talking about hot boys until you’re twenty-five.” She winked at her granddaughter and then nodded. “Now you go on back downstairs and let me deal with your cousin. I’ve only got about two minutes left to knock some sense into her hard head.”

Neeci giggled and disappeared.

Angeline sighed.

Feeling the weight, and the command, in her aunt’s stare, Ressa turned to face her.

“I don’t know if I want to shake you or hug you, child.” Angeline just shook her head instead. “I take it you’re concerned about what it might look like when and if things come out.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she said defensively.

“It’s an understandable concern. And tell me something.” Angeline gazed at the door for a long minute before looking back at Ressa. “Are you going to tell that little girl she never has the right to fall in love . . . with whoever she wants. That if she ever makes a mistake, she’d just better resign herself to an empty life? Are you going to be the one to tell her she better never fall for a rich man, a famous man—or any man she wants—because of what her mother did?”

Fury lit inside her and she opened her mouth—only to close it, sagging against the wall.

“I didn’t think so,” Angeline said, lifting an elegant black brow. “Did you explain things to him?”

“Not . . .” It came out in a rough whisper. She cleared her throat. “Not all of it. He knows about . . . me. Most of it. And he knows that Kiara’s in jail, although I didn’t explain all of that.”

Angeline came to her then, reached up to lay a hand on her cheek. “It is hard. I think about the fool things you did, and how she was so stupid to get involved—it’s not like she needed money. I think about everything that happened with Scott . . . and Sharon. Yes . . . it is hard. But you were the one to step up and do the right thing. She tried to hide. She made those mistakes—she did them and they are hers, hers alone. Not yours. And not mine.”

“Of course they weren’t yours!”

Angeline leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ressa’s cheek.

Ressa breathed in the scent of White Diamonds—the only perfume Mama Ang ever wore. The familiar scent wrapped around her like a comfortable hug and impulsively, she embraced the smaller woman. Angeline caught her up in her arms and Ressa tucked her head against her aunt’s shoulder.

“No,” Angeline said softly. “They weren’t my mistakes. We did what we could. We tried to help, not just once . . . but a hundred times. She made her choices. She has to face the consequences. Just as you’ve had to deal with yours. But this isn’t a consequence you should have to face . . . walking away from a man you can love.”

“But what if . . .”

“No.” Angeline leaned back, shifting so she could grasp Ressa’s arms. “No what ifs. You haven’t given either of you a chance. Don’t you deserve that? At least that?”

When Ressa didn’t answer, Angeline smiled. “Somewhere inside, you already know the answer. Now stop being foolish and go after him. Sometimes we only get one chance in this life to be happy . . . You better not waste yours.”

“But . . .”

“No buts. I’m not saying it will be easy. You probably already have some challenges. Shoot, we still don’t live in a world where a black woman can marry a white man without people giving us the side eye. That’s one hurdle you’ll have to handle already. That he’s a public figure . . . that makes another one. But if you care for him, and he cares for you, those are just details.”

Just details.

“You make it sound so simple,” she said, her heart twisting.

“What else is it?” Angeline shrugged and snapped the top on. “You think it was easy for me? A black woman, struggling to finish school, working two jobs, dealing with her daughter, trying to handle her no-good brother and take care of you, when he’d let me. Bruce took all of that on. Yes, we had people look at us—he was this rich, powerful white man and he fell in love with me, a broke, single black woman who was raising a couple of girls on her own. Yes, it happened the entire time we were married. Yes, it pissed me off. And yes . . .” She slid Ressa a slow smile. “It was worth it. Every damn night, when I came home to him, when we lay in bed together. It was all worth it, even when I had to bury him far too soon. Love is always worth it, baby. Love is what matters . . . the rest is just details. Some are bigger, and suck more than the others. But you have to ask yourself . . . do you love him?”

She paused long enough to kiss Ressa on the cheek and Ressa obediently dipped her head. “Thanks, Mama Ang.”

“Think about it, baby.” Angeline moved to the door. There, she paused. “I need my caffeine fix so I’m making coffee. You need to get dressed and see if whoever you had in mind can watch Neeci.” She paused before she left. “And Ressa, baby?”

“Yes?”

Angeline lifted a brow. “You’re too smart to do something like this . . . so sometime soon I expect to meet this man.”

With a wince, Ressa said, “Well, that’s going to be really soon. I plan on calling to see if he can help with Neeci.”

“Ohhh?” Angeline drew out the word, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yeah.” Licking her lips, she decided to get it over with. Mama Ang gobbled up his books like they were candy. And she was one of the people who followed that Trey sightings board on Pinterest. She’d recognize him in a heartbeat. “It’s . . . um. It’s Trey Barnes.”

“Trey . . .” Her aunt’s brows arched and her mouth fell open. She pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh . . . as in Trey Barnes—the Trey Barnes?”

Ressa winced at the look that flashed across Angeline’s face, the way she fa

Ressa found herself gri

*   *   *

“You didn’t have to fly out here because of this,” Trey said, swinging between irritation toward his twin and his little brother, exhaustion, amusement, and about five hundred other emotions.

One of those emotions was longing.

It had been a week since he’d seen her, and it was killing him.

Just like that, she’d gone and made herself matter that much.

He wasn’t sure if he appreciated it, especially since it seemed pretty clear she’d never really pla

Okay, true enough, they had gone from a few hot, naked sessions of twisting up the sheets to feeling like they weren’t whole without the other, and it had happened fast, but she’d felt it coming on, just the same as he had.

It had also been a week since Sebastian had planted his lazy ass in Trey’s house and baby brother was just now telling Trey why he’d come.