Chapter 13
A few minutes after Solo left my room, I grabbed my favorite journal from the drawer on the bedside table. In reality, it had been that long since I journaled, but since I was used to doing it almost daily, it felt like forever.
I sat with my back against the headboard and my feet tucked underneath me. I slowly flipped to the next empty page, took a few deep breaths, and began writing.
It’s been a minute, but with good reason. I’ve been living my best life, and journaling has been the last thing on my mind. Solomon Holmes is a good man, and I think I’m falling for him. Let me cut the shit and stop lying to myself. I’ve fallen for him, and there’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Everything he says and does feels genuine. He looks at me as if I’m the only woman in the world. He talks to me as if he’s speaking to my soul. He listens to me as if my voice is feeding his spirit. I have questions, though.
Is what I’m feeling real, or is the island skewing my perception? Are the vibes I’m getting from him truly genuine, or is my mind playing tricks on me? The only way to get the answers to my questions is to see this through.
If Solo breaks my heart, it won’t be the first time my heart has been broken. The time we’ve spent, the conversations we’ve had, the memories we’ve made, and the orgasms he provided will make the heartbreak worth every bit of pain.
My birthday is in a few days, and even though Solo doesn’t know, I can’t think of a better place and person to celebrate with.
We can go zip lining, ride horses, feed turtles, or do absolutely nothing at all, and it’ll be the best birthday I’ve had in ages.
Being with Solo has proved to be a gift in and of itself. Until next time . . .
I closed my journal and returned it to the drawer on the bedside table. After using the bathroom, I went to the kitchen to check on dinner. The chef had just finished and was packing up.
“Everything looks and smells delicious, Meeka, as always. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy.”
“You haven’t cooked anything that we haven’t, so I’m sure tonight will be no different,” Solo said as he entered the kitchen.
Chef Meeka finished gathering her things, and while Solo helped her to her car, I fixed our plates and filled our glasses with wine. After he washed his hands, we sat at the table, blessed our food, and dug in.
“I think I’m gonna miss the food more than anything,” I said.
“You should ask her for some of her recipes.”
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be the same. I can cook, but I’m no Chef Meeka. Even if I could afford a chef, she’s a hard act to follow.”
“Cooking wasn’t my ex’s ministry, so we had a chef until I retired. He was good, too. Once I retired, we had fresh meals delivered each week. I’m a decent cook, though, and don’t mind doing it when time permits.”
“I don’t cook often, but my mother made sure my sister and I could cook. My ex and I didn’t live together, and it’s hard to cook good meals for one person. I can cook on Sunday and eat leftovers until Wednesday. If I cook again on Thursday, it lasts me until Sunday.”
“You know what that sounds like to me?” he asked.
“What?”
“It sounds like we’d make a good team. We can take turns cooking, and the chore won’t overwhelm either of us.”
“It doesn’t solve the problem of not being able to pack Meeka in my suitcase and have Bajan meals every day, but I guess that’ll work.”
We laughed before he said, “Teamwork makes the dream work.”
“That’s what I heard, but speaking of cooking, . . . what are you doing for Christmas?”
“That’s a good question. I hadn’t thought about it.
As you know, I don’t have any immediate family.
When I was married, we spent the holidays with her people.
This year, I kicked it with Semaj and his family for Thanksgiving, but I think he mentioned they’d be spending Christmas with your family, so I don’t have any plans as of now. ”
“Yeah, they typically alternate because of the kids. Would you like to come to spend Christmas with me and my family?”
“I want to be wherever you are, baby, on Christmas and any other day.”
I smiled, as his words often compelled me to do.
“Then it’s settled. I can’t believe you were planning to spend Christmas alone.”
He shrugged. “I would’ve survived, but I’m glad I don’t have to. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You said we go together, and if that’s true, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Indeed, we do.”
He leaned in for a kiss, and of course, I obliged, and we continued enjoying our meal.
“I guess that means I need to get you a Christmas gift. What do I get for a man who already has or can buy whatever he wants?”
He chuckled. “You don’t have to get me anything, baby. The opportunity to fall in love with you is enough for me.”
His words went straight to my heart and made me tear up a bit.
“Oh my God, Solomon. How are you this sweet?”
“I mean that shit, E. Don’t stress yourself trying to find a gift for me. You’ve already given me access to your heart, and not much can top that.”
I stared at him in awe as I thought about what I’d just written in my journal. It was impossible to share space with this man in the capacity that we had for almost two weeks and not fall in love. Maybe this was God’s plan all along.
If I responded to him, I’d probably break out in tears, so I nodded and returned my attention to my plate. He must have realized I needed a minute to process our conversation, so we finished our dinner in silence.
When we finished, he took our plates to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher while I found a movie for us to watch. A few minutes later, he joined me on the couch, and we spent the rest of the evening in each other’s arms, watching movies and talking in between.
Several times, I thought about how different a life with Solo would be in comparison to the life I had with Tremaine, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Solo was a millionaire.
If both men were broke and nothing about their personalities changed, Tremaine couldn’t hold a candle to Solo on Solo’s worst day.
The more time I spent with Solo, the more I realized that my relationship with Tremaine was barely a relationship.
I outgrew him, and there was no telling when he would catch up with me.
For a man who was pushing forty, he liked to be outside too much, and although I didn’t mind hanging out, the frequency with which he enjoyed it far outnumbered mine.
A lot of our time together was spent dining at restaurants he deemed fancy or at kickbacks with his friends who vibrated on a lower frequency than he did. That was cool in my early to mid-twenties, but eventually, I became uninterested.
I never knew that doing something as simple as watching movies, playing board games, or existing in silence with a man could feel so good, but Solo was cut from a different cloth. Everything with him felt good.
Our time in Barbados was winding down. We had one more excursion planned, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Solo booked it without my input, and I was annoyed, but didn’t want to be a poor sport. He was convinced I’d enjoy it, so I put on my big girl panties and agreed.
“You’re really in your feelings, huh?” Solo asked.
Emmanuel had just picked us up, and we were on our way to go hiking.
“I’m not in my feelings, but hiking wasn’t on my bingo card for this trip.”
“Baby, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“I hear you, but that remains to be seen. I’d never call myself a girly girl, but there are some things I have no interest in doing. Hiking is one of them.”
“What’s your beef with it?”
“Beef? You’re taking it too far. Why I gotta have beef because I’m not interested in doing it?”
He was amused by our conversation and continued his efforts to convince me that our hiking excursion would be my favorite. It was a forty-minute ride, and I still wasn’t convinced when we arrived at Barclays Park, where the hike would begin for Chalky Mount Trail.
We gathered with a group of about twenty-five or thirty people, and Solo put his arm over my shoulders as the guide went over the rules. Solo had already read them on the website, so we were prepared.
The hike started on flat, sandy ground, and the guide pointed out points of interest. I took in the views, which were no doubt beautiful, and when I took out my phone to snap pictures, Solo took the opportunity to gloat.
“Nice view, huh?” he asked with a smirk.
“Barbados is a beautiful island. I expected nothing less.”
The longer we walked, the more challenging the trail became.
Sometimes it was uphill, sometimes it was rocky, but all the time, it was beautiful.
Solo stopped and pulled me against him a few times to take selfies with the views behind us.
Eventually, my annoyance disappeared, and I allowed myself to enjoy my surroundings and the handsome man who convinced me I wouldn’t regret this adventure.
My favorite part of the hike was stopping at Highland Pottery. I’d never seen more beautifully crafted work, and I went overboard on my purchases. Thank goodness we didn’t have much in our backpacks and could carry everything.
By the time our hike ended, we had hundreds of pictures and even more memories. My mood had done a complete 180, and Solo couldn’t help but tease me on the ride home.
“Hiking wasn’t on my bingo card for this trip,” he teased, mimicking my voice.
“I don’t sound like that.”
“Some things I have no interest in doing,” he continued.
“Emmanuel, can you pull over up here and let him out. I won’t stand for this treatment for the next thirty minutes,” I joked.
Emmanuel glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled, but didn’t say anything or pull over. Solo put his arm around my shoulders and brought me into his side.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m glad you had a good time, baby.”
“Me too. Thank you for planning it and putting up with my whining. I can’t wait to post these pictures.”
“You’re welcome. We only have a few more days before it’s time to head home. I think I want to spend the majority of that time inside of you,” he whispered the last part.
“I’m not opposed to that.”