Weekend fiance, p.1
Weekend Fiance, page 1
WEEKEND FIANCE
A Jared and KeShana InstaLove Novella
TINA MARTIN
Copyright © 2020 Tina Martin
WEEKEND FIANCE
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WEEKEND FIANCE
CHAPTER 1
Jared’s eyes locked in on KeShana as she strolled into Mainstreet Coffee – hips swaying naturally from side-to-side like she was strutting down a runway trying to sell overpriced clothing. He couldn’t turn away even if he tried. If she’d decided to come, he knew she’d show up late. It’s why he got there early – for the show. The struttin’ and her antics. Thirty minutes after waiting solo, he was having doubts that she would come – especially since she’d made a big deal about him asking her out for coffee – insinuating that coffee was code for something else – but here she was in all her take-me-as-I-am glory.
KeShana Neck-Snapping Taylor.
He chuckled to himself. He hoped their coffee date would help dissolve the ache inside of him that suggested this KeShana girl was more than just a chick who acted all loud and boisterous. There had to be a much more tamed woman beneath that pretty, chocolate skin, overly long fingernails and her larger-than-life presence. She couldn’t be this way all the time, could she?
Nah, she can’t be, he decided as he sized her up like he’d done so many women in the past. He couldn’t help it. It came as natural as blinking. As he watched her sashay toward him, he thought about how, in the past, he would’ve never given a woman like KeShana a second look. She was from a different side of town – literally and figuratively. He came from abundance – from a family who owned vineyards all over the country and made some of the best wine in the world. Delarosiere Vineyards was a force to be reckoned with and he would soon be CEO of the multi-millionaire brand. She worked part-time as an office assistant, and he hadn’t the slightest clue what she did with the rest of her time.
With that being said, when it came to women, Jared rubbed shoulders with the best of them – beautiful, stunning women who were just as wealthy as he was. Not to say KeShana wasn’t beautiful because she was. Goodness, gracious – he couldn’t deny that. Additionally, she had certain features that he found lovely – like her extra-rich mahogany skin that reminded him of his partial heritage. Then there were those dark round eyes curtained with pretty lashes and her lips – she had the biggest, most thickest, delicious-looking lips he’d ever seen on a woman. Whenever he saw her – like now – he had trouble taking his eyes off of them. For a split second, he thought about how soft they might be and how it would feel to kiss those ample lips. Probably felt like the tenderness of a steak cooked medium. The thought made his mouth water. He’d never conquered a set of that size and she had him up to the challenge.
As for her other features, she was about five-seven. Body curvy how he liked it – thin waist, thick hips. Breasts like melons. And she came with a good dose of attitude. He liked a woman who could hold her own. Who didn’t beat around the bush. He knew his parents wouldn’t. It’s the only reason he wanted to offer her this proposal. If he pretended to get serious with a woman he knew his folks wouldn’t like, maybe they would end their relentless pressuring for him to get married. People acted like marriage was the ultimate goal in life. For him, it was anything but.
As KeShana neared the small, two-seater table with her hip-swinging, slow-mo walk, he rose to his feet and pulled out her chair.
She said, “Well, well, well…if it ain’t Mr. Dolce and Gabanna...”
Jared grinned. “Hi, KeShana. I didn’t think you would make it.”
“I almost didn’t. I thought about going home several times.”
“Did you?”
“Uh…yea-yah,” she answered, then pursed her lips. “I shonuff did.”
Jared sat down, looking at her nails as she tapped them on the table. They were sharp enough to put someone’s eyes out. “Why would you want to do that?”
She narrowed her eyes.
He smiled in response. Women usually didn’t turn him down no matter what the ask was, so he wanted to know her reason for desiring to go home.
She responded, “First off, I’m not the kind of chick who throws back coffee at night.”
Jared glanced at his Audemars Piguet. “It’s seven-thirty.”
“And?”
“You consider seven-thirty night time?” he asked, amused. She would never know he was tickled. You couldn’t tell by looking at him. Jared could keep a straight face like nobody’s business.
“Sho do.”
Sho do. “It doesn’t get dark until around eight-thirty,” he told her.
She shrugged, quirked up her lips. More attitude. “Your point?”
“My point is, you need to live a little, KeShana Taylor. Coffee in the evening won’t kill you. I can promise you that.”
“It won’t, but a sister needs her beauty rest and last I checked, caffeine was the exact opposite of melatonin.”
KeShana stared skeptically across the table at him. Why had he asked her here with his – with his…his finer than fine self? Sheesh! All she wanted to do was sit there and stare at him. Skip the coffee. He was giving her the jitters every time she connected her eyes to his amber colored ones. And why was he staring so hard? His eyes stayed trained on her like, whatever it was that he wanted, he’d convince her to do it by way of staring – enticing her into a drugging, mind-controlling daze.
Mercy…
She broke away from his gaze, making subtle attempts to silence her beating heart as it pounded loudly in her ear. Why was Jared making her feel this way? She’d been around other good-looking men before – well, none as good-looking as Jared Dela-whatever-his-face, but still. The man was giving her heart palpitations and all he was doing was staring. That’s it. If he so happened to touch her, she’d probably crumble apart and die, then and there.
She glanced at his hands. Those large hands appeared strong. Nails, well-manicured and clean. He had a dreamy, light-skinned complexion but not Drake-the-rapper light skin. He was more like a Russell Wilson brown, about the same height, too. His hair was dark brown and curly. Eyes crisp and extra white to the point that it made his pupils stand out. His nose was so perfectly shaped, it looked like it had been enhanced. His lips were the perfect size for a man and his mustache on point. He was the clean-shaven type. Everything perfect type. What did he want with her?
“So, what’chu want?” KeShana asked.
Brows furrowed, he asked, “Excuse me?”
KeShana looked at him sideways. Did he not hear her or could he not understand her citified, country-style ebonics. She cleared her throat and spoke in her professional work voice when she asked, “I said, what do you want? Why did you ask me here?”
“You don’t have to alter your voice, KeShana. I heard what you said the first time.”
“Then why you actin’ like you didn’t?”
Jared leaned back in his chair. She was going to be more trouble than he needed, but he was willing to put up with it because she was exactly who he needed for his plan. He said, “Be easy, babygirl. This is supposed to be a chill, laid back discussion.”
Still skeptical, KeShana said, “Then ya girl needs to know the topic at hand.”
“I’ll tell you after you simmer down.” You freakin’ hot tamale. Jared grinned. She looked like she needed a good cooling off. She acted all big and bad, but she couldn’t handle a man like him. She thought she could, but she couldn’t.
“What’chu laughing at?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
Lawd, you better be glad you’re fine or I would’ve been done bounced. “And FYI, I don’t have to simmer down. I’m already—simmered.”
The corners of Jared’s eyes crinkled. “If you say so. I’ll go get us some coffee. How do you take yours?”
“In the mornings,” she said.
He cracked a smile. “Why are you giving me a hard time?”
“Because I can.”
“So, you don’t want coffee?”
“Ugh. Just get me a decaf with three sugar packets and two creamers.”
He walked toward the counter, sliding his hands into his pockets.
KeShana turned around, looked at him and fanned herself. That cologne he was wearing had her hemmed up. Jared had it going on. She still wasn’t sure why he was interested in having coffee with her, though. Was he interested in her at all? The last guy who tried to holla at her looked like a thug – like he could’ve been a Trick Daddy impersonator, straight from Dade Co unty, Florida. Jared was the opposite – opposite of the Trick Daddy look-a-like and every other man she’d ever encountered on a one-on-one level like this. He was as fine as his friend Romello – her best friend’s new husband. And Jared was tall – what woman didn’t love a well-dressed tall man who smelled like expensive cologne and cash? And Jared had a certain swag about himself – a very airy, new-wave way of being like he didn’t have a care in the world. He wore nice clothes. Leather shoes. Audemars watches. Cologne that could put a woman in hypnosis.
“Here you are,” he said as he placed her cup on the table with the cream and sugar packets she had requested.
KeShana jumped. She was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized he’d made it back to the table.
“I’m sorry—did I startle you?”
“Yeah. Kinda. I was thinking about something.”
“Thinking about what?” he asked, taking a seat while studying her facial expressions.
“Um—nothing.” It was time to put up her defenses, and that was hard to do with all the French testosterone in front of her. After putting cream and sugar in her coffee, she stirred it while looking up at him. “So, in case you were wondering, Jared, I’m not a beat-around-the-bush kinda chick.”
“I didn’t take you for one.”
“So, lay it on me. What do you want?”
“I want to talk.”
He wants to talk but ain’t saying nothing. Looks like I’m going to have to get the ball rolling or we’ll just be sitting here looking crazy.
“When we were at Romello and Indy’s house, you told me you needed to talk to me about something specific. What is that something?”
Jared sipped coffee, carefully placed the cup on the table and licked his lips before saying, “Since you’re so impatient, I’ll cut to the chase. I want you to come to The Hamptons with me this weekend.”
KeShana raised a brow. “Say what now?”
“I know you heard what I said, so why are you asking me again?”
“Because I think I might’ve misheard you.”
“Then let me be clear. I said, I want you to come with me to The Hamptons this weekend.”
“You must be talking about The Hamptons Apartment Homes over there off of Harris Boulevard, in which case—”
“No. I’m talking about The Hamptons in Long Island, New York.”
KeShana threw her head back and laughed when she realized he was serious. She had a good, all-out chuckle that was loud enough to make some people at other tables turn around to see what the noise was about. He wanted her to go to The Hamptons with him and he was serious about it. This fool done bumped his curly-haired head.
Jared only narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched her, then sipped more coffee. He wasn’t accustomed to this. He was used to women jumping at the chance to be with him and do whatever he asked of them without any back-talk or follow-up questions. KeShana was sitting here laughing, and that irked him. Still, he wanted her to go with him and he’d do whatever it took to make that happen. No other woman would do. It had to be her. His mind was made up.
“Are you done laughing?” he asked.
She was still grinning a little when she said, “Y’all light-skinned men think y’all can do anything you want, don’t you?”
Jared’s jaw tightened, but he played it cool by taking a hot sip of coffee. The strongest kind they had on the menu. The robust kind that would make the hair stand up on most people’s backs but he handled it with ease. He placed the cup on the table and said, “I’m serious about this.”
“Are you now?”
“Yes. I am.”
“And for what purpose do you need me to go to The Hamptons with you?”
Jared took another sip of coffee, making the conscious decision not to answer her right away. Instead, he kept his eyes on her juicy lips. He particularly liked the way they hugged the rim whenever she’d take a sip.
She tapped her nails on the table. “Ding, ding, ding. Hello?”
Jared cracked a smile. “My folks live in The Hamptons. They’ve somewhat settled there in preparation for retirement.”
“And still, I’m not getting the connection to KeShana Taylor…”
And she refers to herself in the third person. Golden, he thought.
KeShana added, “Plus, I didn’t think black people lived there. Oh, wait—didn’t you tell me you were part French or something?”
“I did.” Jared didn’t know whether to be surprised or impressed that she remembered that.
“Who’s French? Your mom or dad?”
“My mother. My father is half French, half African-American.”
“How’d they meet?”
“What does that have to do with what I’ve requested of you?”
“I’m just gathering some intel on you and your family. I don’t know you, Jared, and you’re asking me to travel with you to New York. Sounds like a setup to me.”
“A setup?”
“Yeah. Like you trying to get me trapped somewhere and the next thing you know, somebody’s filling out a missing person’s report on me while you go about living your glamorous, top-shelf life, looking for your next victim. I know how this works.”
“I don’t think you do,” Jared said trying not to laugh. “I’m not setting you up, girl.”
“Then Imma need some answers to my questions. Where did your parents meet?”
He didn’t see the relevance, but he responded, “They met overseas. My father was in the Navy.”
“Ahh. Okay. Makes sense. Any siblings?”
“Yes. One sister.”
“Younger than you or older?”
“Younger.”
“Does she also reside in The Hamptons?”
“No. She lives in Boston, but she’s meeting us at my parents’ house.”
KeShana snapped her head back. “Us? I ain’t agree to nothing yet, playboy.”
“You will.”
She bit back a smile. She wanted to be mad, but his confidence was actually a turn-on. He was talking like she was already a shoo-in.
“Tell me a little about yourself, KeShana. Are you originally from Charlotte?”
“Yep. West siiide,” she said, throwing up the ‘W’ symbol with her right hand, flashing it around like it was something to be proud of when in reality, the west siiide had seen more crime than The First 48.
“What about your parents?”
“Yeah. They’re here, too. I take care of them. They live right around the block from me.”
Jared nodded. She was feisty and animated, but he observed something different when she spoke about her parents. It made him realize that she wasn’t always the wild, loud-talking, untamed woman. She could be tamed. He was sure of it. And he had just what it took to whip her into submission.
KeShana sipped coffee then said, “Let’s get back to this lil’ family reunion shindig you’re talkin’ ‘bout. Why on earth would you want to take a stranger, moi, to The Hamptons when you’re supposed to be spending time with your family? That’s the whole point of a family reunion, isn’t it?”
“It’s not a real family reunion. I’m going to visit them and it just so happens that they think I’m engaged and I—”
“Skurrrrrd—hold up, stop the presses,” KeShana said holding out her hands. “You want me to be your play-play fiancée?”
“Did you just say, play-play?”
“Yeah, play-play. As in fake, phony, not real—you know what I’m talking about.”
“Then, yes, KeShana. I want you to be my play-play fiancée—you and your lips.”
“My lips? Oh, heck to the nah. You got me messed up.”
Jared’s face turned red as he forced himself not to laugh. This chick was hilarious.
KeShana sipped coffee, reset her mind, cleared her throat and said, “Looka here, Jared Dela—deja—”
“De-la-ro-si—”
“Yeah, whatever. Imma tell you what you not gon’ do.”
Jared crossed his arms. “What am I not gon’ do?”
“You’re not going to use your light-skinned privilege on me. That won’t work on ya girl.”
“It’s only for the weekend, girl.”
“I’m not a girl.”
“You literally just called yourself a girl…”
“That’s just a saying. I’m a full-blown woman in case you haven’t noticed.”
