Rochelle Alers

Sweet Southern Nights


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       Angela let out a gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

       He winked at her. “I would if you let me.”

       “That’s not happening. I would’ve thought you were a dog lover, not cats.” Levi angled his head and stared at Angela as she stared up at him. It was the first time he noticed that her head only came to his shoulders, even though she was wearing heels. He was six-two, and if he had to guess, Angela was at least eight inches shorter than him in her bare feet.

       “I like dogs, too. But cats are different. They’re more independent and completely unpredictable. You have to walk dogs, play fetch, and they hog up the space on the sofa when you’re trying to watch a game. I doubt whether this little darling weighs more than six pounds.”

       “She weighed four pounds during her last visit to the vet.”

       His gaze shifted to the cat purring contently in his arms. “She likes me.”

       “I like you, too. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you live with me.”

       Without warning, Levi’s expression became stoic. “Did I ask if I could live with you?”

       Her face reddened, the color settling in her cheeks. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

       Levi handed Miss Divine to Angela. “You can cradle your baby, while I clear the table.”

       Angela shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. There’s not much to clean up.”

       He smiled, but the expression did not reach his eyes. “You cook, I clean.”

       She wanted to tell him not to push his luck, but decided better of it. After all, there was more than one way to skin a cat. Sorry, Miss Dee, she thought. There was something about Levi Eaton that reminded her of the male characters in her romance novels—pushy, arrogant, and oozing with enough sex appeal to earn an R-rating. Smiling sweetly, she said, “Leave everything on the countertop and I’ll take care of it.”

       “Okay,” he agreed.

       Twenty minutes later, she stood on the front porch with Levi. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

       Levi took a step closer, cradled her face, dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers.

       She froze, and then relaxed as he deepened the kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

       He was there and then he was gone. Angela stood watching the taillights of his car fade into the darkness. Steadying her shoulders, she closed the door and locked it. It wasn’t until after she’d cleaned up the kitchen, put everything away and extinguished the candles that Angela finally admitted that Levi Eaton was exactly what she needed to put to rest any notion that she’d been pining for Robert Gaskin. She’d never been one to seek revenge, but this was one time she was looking forward to it.

       Spending time with Levi had convinced Angela that she was more than ready to face her past and finally put it behind her.

      Chapter 4

      The telephone on the bedside table rang twice before Angela raced over to answer it. “Hello,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

       “Hey, you. Do you still need a date?” asked a familiar voice.

       “What have you done now, Traci?”

       “Nothing.”

       Cradling the cordless receiver between her chin and shoulder, Angela returned to the en suite bathroom. “I’m going to put you on speaker while I put on my makeup.”

       “Okay.”

       Sitting down at the vanity, she picked up a small sable brush and deftly applied shadow over her eyelid. “Talk to me, Traci.”

       There was a brief pause before Traci’s voice came through the speaker. “Reggie’s brother said that he’s willing to be your date for the wedding if you can’t find anyone else to go.”

       Angela groaned, still unable to understand why her cousin continued to date her ex-husband. Although she’d always liked Reggie, it was his brother that she could only take in small doses. His ego was as large as his waistline.

       “Thanks for looking out, but I have a date.”

       “Who is he?”

       “You’ll see,” she said cryptically as she carefully outlined her lids with a smoky-colored eye pencil.

       “Come on, Ang, give me a hint.”

       Angela leaned closer, checking her handiwork in the lighted makeup mirror. She smiled. She hadn’t lost her touch. There was a time when she wore makeup every day. But once she began working in the gift shop, her makeup routine was a light dusting of face powder, one coat of mascara and a tinted lip gloss. She still had a standing appointment every week to have her hair and nails done, but shadow and eyeliner were for special occasions.

       “Don’t think you’re going to badger me until I tell you. You’re going to have to wait like everyone else to see who I bring. Now, please hang up so I can finish putting on my makeup. I’ll see you and Reggie in about an hour.”

       “Should I tell Reggie’s brother that you don’t want him to pick you up?”

       Angela shook her head. There were times when she thought Traci played dumb because she didn’t like making men feel insecure, when in fact her cousin was a genius. Two years her junior, Traci had married and divorced not once, but twice—Reggie was her first—and swore she’d never marry again. Nevertheless, her cousin liked being in a relationship.

       “Tell him thanks, but no thanks. I have a date.”

       “Okay. What are you wearing?”

       She smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see that, too.”

       “I hope it’s real sexy, Ang, because I want Robert to realize what he lost.”

       “Robert Gaskin made his bed, and now he’ll just have to lie in it. Look, cuz, I have to go if I’m going to be ready when Levi gets here.”

       “Levi. Now that’s a name you don’t hear too often. Personally I like biblical names. They always sound so strong and masculine.”

       Angela exhaled a deep breath. She knew if she didn’t get off the phone with Traci she wouldn’t be ready when Levi arrived. She still had to get dressed. “Bye, Traci. We’ll talk later.”

       “Do you know if Yvette put us at the same table?” Traci asked, prolonging the conversation.

       “Yes. I told her I wanted us seated together.”

       “Okay, then I’ll see you later.”

       “Later, Traci.” Angela ended the call, and concentrated on finishing her makeup.

       Adjusting the light surrounding the vanity mirror, she surveyed her face under the flattering glow. Her makeup was subtle, and her eyes were dramatic with a smoky look. She turned off the lights, washed her hands and dried them. She walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom to the dressing area where her dress and matching day coat hung from a padded hanger.

       Taking off her robe, she slipped into a pair of midnight-blue bikinis, a halter-top bra and sheer pantyhose. She had just put on her dress and slipped her foot into one of the blue-suede, peep-toe pumps when the intercom rang at the same time as the clock on the fireplace mantel chimed on the half hour.

       “Levi.”

       His name unconsciously slipped past her parted lips. A smile spread across her face as she tried to recall everything about him—the deep, soothing timbre of his voice, the sexy-looking lines that creased his sharp jawline whenever he smiled, and the way he angled his head whenever he’d listened to something she said. He was perfect—perfect enough that she could easily see him as Mr. Right Now.