10. Sametra #2
“It’s been five years. Guess it stuck.” He glanced at me then, and something in his smile made me shift in my seat. “Place grew on me. People, too.”
My daddy nodded slowly. “You married to your work, Malik?”
“I can be. It’s easy to do when you love what you do. My job is personal to me. So, I take it very seriously. But it doesn’t run my life.”
“So, you’d pick it over anything it if necessary?” my daddy asked, picking up his sweet tea. His voice was casual, but his eyes weren’t.
Malik didn’t even blink. “Sir, are you asking me about Sametra specifically?”
“Yeah, I am actually. Will you leave my baby and grandson high and dry when another opportunity presents itself? Or when something goes wrong?”
“Good, because I’m not focused on anyone else. But to answer your question, I’m here to stay. As long as Sametra will allow me. And I’ll get another job if I have to. I can’t get another her.”
The table went still. My stomach hit my feet and heat slowly replaced it. He’d already told me that but hearing him reassure me without knowing I needed it made me want to drag him to the supply closet.
My daddy didn’t speak right away. He just stared at Malik, then took a slow sip of his tea like he was letting that settle in.
“That right?” Daddy said finally, his voice giving nothing away.
“Every word.”
The silence stretched between them, again.
I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs.
This was it, the moment that would either make or break everything.
Malik had already made it clear that his attention was completely on me.
I was nervous about how my father would respond to such bold declarations in such short time.
Daddy stared at Malik for what felt like forever, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded once and picked up his menu like the conversation was over.
“Well then. Y’all ready to eat?”
Just like that, we moved into ordering like Malik hadn’t just dropped a damn love bomb in the middle of dinner, without actually saying it. I sat there trying to process what had just happened while Malik calmly ordered the pot roast meal.
“I’ll have the same,” I managed, still feeling off-kilter.
Once our waitress took our orders back to the kitchen, the conversation shifted naturally. Daddy and Malik fell into an easy discussion about football, Malik’s high school stats, to whiskey preferences, fishing tips, and hunting stories. The whole nine.
I watched in amazement as my usually reserved father opened up, sharing stories I hadn’t heard in years over our meal.
Malik listened intently, asked the right questions, laughed at the right moments.
He wasn’t trying too hard or being fake, he was just..
. himself. And somehow, that was exactly what Daddy needed to see.
After about thirty minutes of this easy back-and-forth, Lorana and I exchanged a look. She tilted her head toward the kitchen, and I nodded.
“Excuse us,” I said, standing. “We’re gonna go check on dessert.”
We slipped into the kitchen, and she immediately placed her hands on my shoulders before lifting one hand to cup my cheek.
“Pudding, he’s perfect. He’s the one. I can feel it. I need to start planning for a wedding. Oh my god, will you two keep us posted. I need to talk to your father about paying for it.” Her eyes were soft, motherly.
“Lorana, slow down. I don’t think it’s time to plan for a wedding yet.”
“Girl, are you okay? Were you at the table with us? Your dad likes that man.”
“I’m something. I like him so much. Maybe too much. It’s so soon.” I shook my head, voicing the fear that had been nagging at me. “I don’t even know why he likes me. All the baggage I come with, he’s already had to deal with Ashe’s mess.”
“Stop it right there.” Her voice got firm, the way it did when she needed me to listen.
“Don’t you dare sabotage this. I’ve watched you with men before, and I never cared one way or the other.
But this time? This time I care. That man out there is your husband, Sametra. I can see it all over both of you.”
She paused, studying my face with those knowing eyes. “And if Ashe keeps bothering you, you tell your father. You know Dale will handle it. He’s still got buddies on the force.”
“What if this is all too much too fast? What if he realizes I’m not worth all this drama?”
“Hush, you deserve this. You deserve him. And I won’t let you or your stubborn daddy mess it up with all that overprotective nonsense. But from the looks of it, I think Malik will fit in just fine.”
We watched through the kitchen window for a moment at my daddy gesturing wildly with his hands, probably telling another fishing story, while Malik listened with genuine interest. The sight made me softly touch my heart.
We headed back out to serve dessert, and I noticed Samaj and Malik had shifted into their own conversation. My son was actually smiling, engaged, not looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. That was rare for Thursday dinners lately.
“I really enjoyed my meal,” Malik said as Lorana set the peach cobbler in front of him. “I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this spot. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Well, come back anytime, especially for fried fish Fridays. That’s a fan favorite,” she beamed.
“Sounds like I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he joked, making her laugh. “It was nice meeting you both.”
Then he turned to me, his expression shifting to something more serious. I got nervous. “MiMi, can I holla at you for a second?”
He extended his hand, and I took it, letting him lead me outside into the parking lot. The night air was cool against my skin as he guided me to the sleek black car he’d arrived in. Once we reached it, he pressed my back gently against the driver’s side door, his hands settling on my waist.
“LT, you look so damn good in this dress,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tone that made my knees wobble and shake. “You wear that for me?”
My eyes fluttered up to his, and I nodded, suddenly feeling sexy under his intense gaze.
He kissed me softly, slowly, savoring the moment. When he pulled back, he whispered against my lips, “Thank you. I been waiting to do that since I walked in. I ain’t want John-Dale to pull the shotgun out.”
“He likes you. He’s not much of a talker but he talked to you all night. You’re his son now.”
Word?” he asked leaning back slightly, his hands still on my waist.
“Word,” I giggled.
His expression grew serious again. “This is yours now,” he said simply, gesturing to the car behind me.
“What?” I blinked; sure, I’d heard him wrong.
“The car, baby. It’s yours.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, pressing them into my palm. “2025 Lexus GX 460. Top safety ratings, all the features you could want. No more borrowing your daddy’s shit or worrying about getting around.”
I stared at him, then at the keys in my hand, then back at him. “Malik, I can’t…this is too much.”
“Shh, let me catch you, let me have your back.”
“I can’t accept this car, Malik. A Lexus? It’s too much.”
“You said that already. And no, it’s not.” His hands cupped my face gently. “You need reliable transportation, especially with school starting. I need to know you’re safe on the road. This solves both problems.”
“But this is expensive, I can’t afford the payments.”
“I’m not doing anything halfway, when it comes to you. Please settle into being spoiled and taken care of. It’s paid for. Completely yours, no payments.” He pulled my closer and I wrapped my arms around his waist as he whispered in my ear, “Don’t fight me on this, Sametra. Let me do this for you.”
Tears pricked at my eyes because no one had ever done something like this for me. Ever. “Why?”
“Because I can. Because I want to. Because you deserve it,” he said, wiping away a tear that had escaped. “No more questions, LT. Just accept the fact that I care about you.”
“Take me to your house,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Samaj is staying with my dad tonight; they’re going to a game in the morning.”
The words came out quieter than I intended.
I wasn’t used to putting my own wants first, wasn’t sure I was allowed to.
For so long, I’d centered everything around my son.
His schedule. His emotions. His safety. And now, here I was, on a Thursday night, heart racing, standing in front of a man who made me feel like he’d wrestle a hundred gorillas for me.
Like he’d lasso the damn moon if I asked.
“I want to be with you. I’m ready to see a man about a horse.”
The second I said it, he moved. No longer holding back. He stepped in close, heat rolling off his body and on to mine. He wrapped his arms around my waist, hands resting low on my ass.
“Finally,” he mouthed before kissing me, sending a flood through my body. My panties didn’t have enough fabric to catch my juices. I clenched my thighs together, low-key afraid of this foreign flooding.
He pinned me gently against the car, reminding me exactly what I was saying yes to. My back met the door, but I barely registered it. All I felt was him, his lips, his breath, the slow curl of his fingers against my lower back.
“How do we stay in this moment forever?” I asked, breathlessly feeling every bit of vulnerable with him doing and saying everything but those three words.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t stutter. Just looked me dead in the eyes like he saw everything I was trying not to say.
“I don’t want just moments with you, MiMi.
I want every damn beginning. Over and over.
I want to memorize the way your body moves under mine, the exact second your eyes close when you feel safe.
I want the falling, the trusting, the choosing, the waiting, and the fire that comes when we start again.
That’s what I’m on. I don’t want temporary.
I want you …real, vulnerable, and all the way mine. ”