His Baby Her Gift: The Slow Burn Duology 2 by LaShawn Vasser (electric book reader .txt) 📗

*****

Harlem’s naked body was pressed up against Carter’s. Her head lay on his chest. His heartbeat was so strong and steady. Harlem had never felt more loved than this moment of being cradled against his body.

Carter ran his hand up and down her arm, feeling as if he could finally exhale. Harlem felt like home–one he’d never had. Just being around her gave him a sense of peace and family. Words seemed too cheap for the moment. Instead, they both lay quietly basking in the afterglow of making love and each other.

Carter’s cell rang. It was still early afternoon on a Monday and could be work. He prayed it wasn’t Elaina. That woman always popped up at the wrong time, killing whatever vibe was going on between Harlem and him.

Carter kissed the top of her head. He groaned and spoke softly into her hair. “I can’t ignore it.” Carter leaned over and reached for his phone. “This is Carter?”

His body instantly stiffened. Gently, he untangled himself from Harlem’s body and sat up. “You’re here?”

Harlem sat up, too, pulling the sheet with her. She prayed to God it wasn’t Elaina. If it was her, Harlem’s newfound commitment was already going to be put to the test. Quietly, she listened to Carter, but he wasn’t saying much. His responses were more like grunts.

“I’ll buzz you in.” He disconnected the call. Then, dropped his chin to his chest and pinched the bridge of his nose. The hits just keep coming. It would take a few minutes for someone to drive from the gate to the house. That left him a little bit of time to get dressed before anyone came to the door.

“Who was that?” Harlem asked. “Was that Elaina?” She hated to even bring her name up.

“No. Worse,” Carter said as he got out of bed. He went into his walk-in closet to grab a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

“Worse? Unless that was Satan himself, not sure how anybody could be worse.” Damn. I need to control my mouth. I can’t talk about Elaina like that. Harlem slid out of bed and started to put her clothes on.

Carter came out of his closet, pulling a white tee over his head. He stopped. “What are you doing?”

Harlem looked confused. “I’m getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“Um . . . you said someone was coming that was worse than Elaina.”

“You look good in my bed.” He smiled wickedly then pulled her body into his for a kiss. “I don’t ever want you to leave my bed. Seriously, I’ll only be gone a few minutes.”

Harlem could feel the tension in his body. She was coming to know Carter well enough to know when he was putting on a front. There was something seriously up. “Carter, who was on the phone? Who’s coming to the house?”

“Nobody.” He turned away, walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. However, his words rang loud and clear. “Just my mother.”

Harlem stood stunned for about two point three seconds. Then, she made a mad dash to put her clothes on before running over to the mirror. “Shit. My hair is a mess, and my purse is downstairs!” She didn’t have anything to comb her hair with. Harlem ran her fingers through it, trying to smooth her hair down. She then ran-walked into the bathroom and splashed a bit of cold water on her face, hoping it would make her look less flushed. Her lips were still a bit swollen, but there was nothing she could do about that. All kinds of thoughts were running through Harlem’s mind. I thought he hadn’t talked to his parents in years? Even though Carter didn’t have a relationship with his parents, his mother would be at his house in minutes.

Harlem was about to meet his mother! She glanced up into the mirror one last time. “This is the best I can do.” Satisfied that she was indeed as presentable as she could be, Harlem high-tailed it downstairs to meet Carter’s mom.

*****

Harlem could hear Carter talking. She followed his voice down the long corridor to the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t even try to hide his irritation.

“The question is, why didn’t my only son tell me that he was having a baby?” Charlotte Owens-Du Mont-Tillis lifted a perfectly sculpted brow as she pierced Carter with a sparkling blue-eyed stare. Those eyes were the same ones that she had passed down to him. Frustrated, she placed her hands on her slim hips while waiting for an answer.

“You have a son? Interesting. I didn’t know you remembered.” Carter wasn’t up for playing games. “What do you want, Charlotte?” He walked over to the nook in the kitchen that housed a desk. He opened the drawer and pulled out his checkbook. Carter wrote out a sum for fifty thousand dollars.

Charlotte watched him intently as he wrote it.

He brought the check over to the island and placed it on top. “Are you out of money?” His mother had married and divorced into wealth. She had also lost most of it with her third ex-husband. Since then, Carter had been sending his mother a monthly stipend.

“Do you really think so little of me?”

The pained expression in her eyes seemed genuine, but Carter had seen that look before. Every time he let his guard down, his mother would pull some bullshit out of her ass. Her actions always made him rethink the justification for the entire human race.

“Look, I know I haven’t been the best mother.”

Understatement of the year. Carter’s expression remained stoic as he