A love so strong, p.17
A Love So Strong, page 17
“Let’s go. The sooner we get home, the sooner we can pick up where we left off in the bathroom.”
No other words were needed. Hand in hand, they hurried to the stairs.
“Oh, there you two are. I’m glad you’re still here. Paul, I forgot to tell you that we’re celebrating your dad next Sunday with a Father’s Day brunch. Don’t you think that’ll be wonderful?” She gushed.
It was taking everything within Martina not to tell her what she could do with her brunch. There was no way she was attending. Instead of saying that, she plastered on a smile that was as fake as her mother-in-law’s smile.
“What time are you thinking?” Paul asked.
Martina didn’t miss the fact that he had tightened his hold on her hand. No doubt he was trying to make sure she didn’t say anything. It was a struggle, but her lips were sealed. She’d say all she needed to say by not showing up. Besides, the woman was a horrible cook, and the person in her kitchen pretending to be a chef was no better.
Why would I torture myself with bad company and horrible food when my family’s brunch is second to none? she thought.
The Jenkins family got together for brunch every Sunday. It was a tradition started by her grandmother over thirty years ago. Paul’s mother knew that, and Martina wouldn’t be surprised if she was planning her little brunch to cause an argument between her and Paul.
If that was the case, she was going to be disappointed. Paul already knew that she never missed a Jenkins Family brunch, and she sure as hell wouldn’t start now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As they drove home, Paul divided his attention between the road and his beautiful wife. She might not like spending time with his family, but she had come through for him tonight. He didn’t particularly enjoy the parties that his mother hosted. He’d had enough of them while growing up and even during his stint as a U.S. senator. But having Martina by his side made the events less boring.
His wife was stunning. When he first met her, she wore her naturally curly hair short. For the last year, she had let it grow out and the long strands usually brushed her shoulders. Tonight, she had it in an updo with a few tendrils framing her face. Her makeup looked professionally done and only added to her beauty.
But it was the dress that made his mouth go dry when she’d glided down the stairs of their home to tell him she was ready. It was a wrap dress that hugged her body and brought attention to her full breasts, narrow waist, and hips that only added to her hourglass figure. He had considered keeping her home and having his way with her luscious body, but their daughter had urged them out of the house. She’d been anxious to see her grandparents.
Paul reached over and linked his fingers with Martina’s. He was glad that she hadn’t automatically shut his mother’s idea of brunch down, but he knew she wanted to. Holding her tongue wasn’t one of his wife’s strengths, especially where his mother was concerned.
“I think Angelica is starting to warm up to me,” Martina said of his mother, and Paul snorted.
They were two of the most important women in his life, but they couldn’t stand each other. Their relationship was a little better than it had been before he and Martina married, but not by much.
“She only glared at me once over dinner. Then again, that might’ve been her usual evil look,” she said with a laugh, but Paul growled under his breath.
He glanced into the back seat to make sure their daughter had her headphones on. The kid rarely left home without them or her handheld game.
“Not even a half hour ago, you promised to watch what you say about my mother, especially around Janay.”
Martina mumbled a curse and glanced into the back seat. She squeezed his hand before releasing it. “I’m sorry. I slipped, but Janay can’t hear us while she’s playing that game. Besides, you have to admit, your mother does look at me as if she smells something bad. She’s all high-and-mighty, looking down at others as if her shit don’t stank.”
“Only because she knows you don’t like her. Martina, this has been going on for years.” At least she wasn’t calling his mother names, but still. “I need you to try harder where she is concerned. She’s set in her ways, and I need you to be the bigger person. It’s hard being around you two when you’re both snarling at each other for no reason.”
The last thing Paul wanted to do was argue, but that’s what usually happened when his mother was the topic of conversation. Granted, Martina wasn’t wrong. His mother was a bit pretentious and could sometimes be unyielding. She could also be disrespectful, but he had noticed her effort in trying to get along with Martina.
But this conversation wasn’t just about his mother. Martina didn’t have a filter and often said too much in every situation, and it had been a bone of contention in their marriage from day one. Rarely did she think about the consequences of how her words affected others. Granted, most of the time she was joking or trying to get a rise out of people by being argumentative, especially with her family, but she often went too far.
“Fine. I’ll try not to say anything else bad about your mom. I’m probably wrong about her warming up to me anyway. After downing two shots of tequila with your sister earlier, my memory is a little sketchy.”
This time, Paul laughed and recognized her attempt to lighten the moment.
“I should’ve known alcohol had something to do with you dragging me into the bathroom. I barely had a chance to lock the door before you jumped me.”
Martina smiled. “Hmm, I remember it a little differently. All I did was give you the look, and then you dragged me around the house trying to find some privacy.”
Paul laughed. “Okay, maybe it was a little bit of both of us, but I’m not complaining. I had fun with you in there.” He squeezed her thigh, remembering their quick tryst.
“Yeah, it was a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to do it again.”
They rode a few minutes in silence before Paul said, “Thanks for not shooting down my mother’s idea of a Father’s Day brunch. I’ll talk to her about maybe having it early in the day. That way we’ll still be able to make it to your grandparents’ home in time for—”
“Hold up,” Martina said, turning fully in her seat to face him. “I’m not attending that brunch. Seeing Angelica twice in a month is too much for me, especially back-to-back weekends.”
Paul divided his attention between her and the road. “What if I want you to attend with me and Janay?”
Martina sighed dramatically. “I agreed to attend this cocktail party with you. That’s enough. I’d rather gouge out my eyes with a screwdriver or stick my head in an oven and turn it to broil than attend the brunch.
“I can’t believe you thought I’d consider it,” she said, incredulous. “Why would I wanna be around people who don’t like me?”
Paul released a long, drawn-out sigh. “They don’t hate you, Martina. You just make it hard for them to totally embrace who you are.” He suddenly regretted bringing up the subject of brunch. “So, you won’t reconsider even though I’m asking you to go along with me and Janay?”
“Nope. Like I said, I’d rather stick my head in an oven.”
“Fine. Don’t go,” he snapped.
So much for ending the night on a high note.
Paul was done. Most days he could tolerate his wife’s argumentative attitude, but right now, he just wanted to get home and put some space between them.
Without opening her eyes, Martina patted her hand back and forth on the other side of the mattress. Cold.
Figured.
Paul was an early riser, but she was fairly sure that he hadn’t bothered to come to bed. He had probably slept in the guest room. Normally, when they had a disagreement, they could work it out before going to bed. Not this time. Paul had shut down. The moment they had arrived home, he showered and headed to his home office.
She hadn’t seen him since.
Martina opened her eyes and picked up her cell phone from the nightstand to look at the time.
Six o’clock.
It was too damn early to be up on a Saturday. Except Paul didn’t care. He stuck to a routine no matter the day. Some Saturdays he went to the gym before heading to one of his restaurants. On others, he often chauffeured Janay around to gymnastics, dance class, or soccer, depending on the time of year.
Today, Martina wasn’t sure of his plan since he wasn’t speaking to her. They probably needed to talk, but she’d said all that she needed to say. She wasn’t going to his mother’s brunch, and that was final. If Paul didn’t like it, he’d just have to deal with it.
At least that’s what she told herself.
But if she was honest, she could admit that she hated when they fought. There was no doubt that she got on his nerves all the time. Yet, he was always there for her—no matter what. Any other man would’ve left her years ago, but not Paul. He offered her more grace than she deserved. He had always accepted her as she was, flaws and all.
Martina covered her face with her hands and growled as guilt charged through her body. She loved that man more than she ever thought she could love anyone. He was such a loving, kind, and patient man. So why did she do and say stuff that often drove a wedge between them?
She shook her head and sighed. Martina didn’t know why she was such a loudmouth. It was how she was wired. Just because she spoke her mind didn’t mean that she didn’t feel and love the way others did. She just had a different way of showing love. She was the type to pick on the people she cared about. As twisted as that might be, she’d always been like that.
One of these days, that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble that you might not be able to get out of, her grandmother often said.
“I hope this ain’t one of those times,” Martina mumbled and sat up.
She slipped her feet into her slippers and slid on the short, red satin robe that lay on the bench at the foot of the bed. It was time to make things right with Paul.
Martina tightened the belt around her waist as she strolled out of the room and headed for the stairs. The smell of strong coffee met her in the middle of the staircase, and she almost groaned. She loved when Paul made coffee. It was way stronger than the crap they had at work, and she could barely wait for her first sip.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen, and Paul glanced up. He was standing at the counter with a mug to his mouth while he read something on his electronic tablet.
“Morning,” he said dryly.
“Good morning. Are you still mad at me?” she asked as she approached. Normally, he’d greet her with a kiss, but it didn’t look as if he planned to do that today. His attention was back on his tablet. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
He glanced up, and his gorgeous dark eyes bore into her. “What are you sorry for?” he asked. “You made it clear that you’re not attending the brunch.” He shrugged. “What’s there to apologize for?”
That was a trick question.
No matter how she responded, it wouldn’t be right in his eyes. Was this him lawyering her? Paul was a lawyer by trade, but instead of practicing law after graduating from law school, he had gone into politics like his father and forefathers before him had done.
Just thinking about him and his politics made her itch. Despite being on opposite sides of the aisle per se, they’d managed to fall in love and hopefully live happily ever after. But by his grim expression, she wasn’t so sure.
“I’m sorry for my behavior on the way home. I know I was indignant in the way I talked about your mother, but I can’t help it.”
Martina batted her eyelashes, trying to look and sound contrite, but was probably failing. She was sorry about the way she spoke to him and how their night had ended. However, she meant every word she said about Angelica.
“Babe, you had to know that I wouldn’t be interested in going to your mom’s stu…” Her words trailed off and they both knew what she was about to say.
Dammit. I need to stop talking.
Instead of saying more, she moved to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup.
“I’ll try to do better with my choice of words,” she said and stood next to him, hoping that he’d forgive her like he usually did.
After a long hesitation, Paul shut down his tablet and finally looked at her. “Be who you are, Martina. I wouldn’t want you to choke and die on your hurtful words by keeping them bottled up inside.”
“Well, damn. Tell me how you really feel,” she said with a chuckle. She must be finally rubbing off on him because that sounded like something she would say. But his expression was as stoic as it had been since she walked in.
“I’m heading to the club and then to the office,” he said.
By club, he meant the athletic club that he, Craig, and some of the other men in the family were members of. By office, he meant the one at the first restaurant that he’d opened. It was home base for him.
“Oh, tell Janay I’ll call her later about that movie she asked me to take her to this evening.”
Instead of kissing Martina goodbye, like usual, Paul walked out of the kitchen, and seconds later, she heard the garage door go up.
Crap. He’s not just mad. He’s pissed.
“Great,” she mumbled and lifted her coffee mug to her lips. “Now I have to figure out how to make things right.”
“Mommy.”
Martina’s gaze darted to the opening of the kitchen where Janay was standing. She looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed with the ponytail on top of her head askew and her black and white puppy pajamas wrinkled.
Martina set her mug down. “Hey, sweetie. What are you doing up so early?”
Had she heard her and Paul talking? Normally, Janay slept in late on the weekend. Or she’d be in the den watching cartoons, but never this early.
“I have to tell you something,” she said in a whisper and entered the kitchen with a troubled expression.
Unease swept through Martina and all her protective instincts kicked in. She clowned around and talked trash with people, but when it came to her child, she took her role as mommy seriously.
She met Janay midway and wrapped her daughter in a hug. “What’s wrong?”
She might not be the most empathetic person, but from the day Janay was born, Martina had vowed to be a better mother than what she’d had growing up.
Janay’s arms were wrapped around Martina’s waist and her head rested just below her breasts.
Martina placed a kiss against her daughter’s forehead. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No. I—I started my period,” she said barely above a whisper and Martina froze, surprised by the news. They’d had a prelude to “the talk” about a year ago when Janay questioned her about the feminine products in the master bathroom’s linen closet. Her daughter was a preteen, but Martina thought she had a little more time before she had to go into detail about becoming a woman.
Times up.
She hugged Janay tighter and smiled. “My baby has become a woman. This calls for a special celebration.”
Janay lifted her head and perked up when she looked at Martina. “It does?”
“Definitely. Today is women’s day. Come on,” Martina said, and they walked hand in hand out of the kitchen. “First, I’ll tell you all about becoming a woman, then we’ll get dressed and get our big day started.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I’d like to call this meeting to order,” Paul said, trying to keep a straight face as he tightened the white terry cloth towel that he was wearing around his waist.
Sighing loudly, he laid his head back against the wall and felt the stress of the last twelve hours melt away. He, Craig, and Zack were lounging in the steam room at the athletic club after a rigorous workout.
I need this, he thought. He’d been wound tighter than a tension spring threatening to snap, and it was a state he never liked being in. But this was helping—a good workout, hanging with friends, and now winding down.
“What are you talking about? What meeting?” Zack asked.
“Our support group,” Paul said and lifted his head to glance at each of them. “More than once, we’ve talked about starting a support group for the men married to a Jenkins woman. Well, I’m starting it, and I want to begin with the first item on the agenda.”
Craig chuckled. “Where was this group when I needed it a couple of months ago?”
“Hell, where was it when I needed it years ago?” Zack asked with a laugh. “All this time married to my strong-willed wife, I’ve had to go it alone.”
They all laughed, mainly because they’d all been in some sticky predicaments with their wives.
“Okay, so what’s the first item on the agenda?” Craig asked and laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
“Martina,” Paul said without preamble and couldn’t blame the guys when they groaned. “I know. I know. My wife is…”
He tossed around a few words in his mind to best describe Martina Jenkins-Kendricks. Amazing. Smart. Passionate. Hardworking. Those were just a few, but then there were plenty of others that weren’t as complimentary, like headstrong, nosey, and selfish.
“She’s driving me crazy,” Paul finally said.
“What? She just started driving you crazy?” Craig cracked, and he and Zack burst out laughing.
Paul couldn’t help but chuckle. Sure, she’d been driving him nuts since the day he met her. It was during his stint as a U.S. senator, and she opposed his politics. He loved her tenacity, her compassion for those less fortunate, and he appreciated the way she spoke her mind.
At least most of the time. Other times she went too far.
She drove everyone crazy. It was part of her charm. At least that’s what she always claimed.
“I adore the woman,” Paul continued. “And I can’t imagine my life without her in it, but lately she’s been nudging me closer to my breaking point. I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to get her to watch her words. I’m tired of the disagreements, and I’m tired that though she claims she’ll do better, she doesn’t.”
