Chapter 4 #2
Yet, he didn’t acknowledge her. He grabbed his keys from the valet and opened the door. Getting inside, he reached for the handle until Irish wedged herself between the door and his arm.
“Why would you say that?”
“Say what?” He smirked.
Oh, he thinks this shit is funny…
“You know what you said? Why did you say that?”
Leaning back, he studied her with his menacing eyes. “Come on, Irish. Let’s not play this game between us.”
“Oh, you know my name,” she fired back.
“I been knew your name.”
That made her stomach bubble with giddiness. She had no idea that Noble knew anything about her. All this time of obsessing over him, she was relieved that he at least knew her name.
“If you know my name, then you would know that I’m Jovanis’ wife and we’re very much in love.”
A deep rumble of laughter echoed from his mouth. It was masculine and would’ve been infectious if she wasn’t bothered by his comment on Jovanis.
“Yeah, a’ight. Move out the way, so I can go.”
“No, not until you tell me why you said that.”
Again, his stare engulfed her like he was attempting to devour her with his eyes. He had to be the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t just his beautiful masculine features but his presence. It was commander in chief of every woman he was around.
“Get in and I’ll tell you.”
Stunned by his order, Irish looked and noticed her car being pulled to the front of the hotel.
“It’s cool. They’ll just go park it again but you might have to tip bigger,” he advised. “Now get in.”
Irish’s feet moved before she processed his order.
Rounding the car, she got in on the passenger side, drowning in his spicy scent.
He drove away, and Irish wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into.
She should’ve ordered him to stop the car and let her out but being in such close proximity to Noble caused her to stay silent.
He leaned back, whipping the car like he had invented the art of driving.
Sounds of Fabolous’ Soul Tapes bumped through the speakers as Noble kept her in an agonizing anticipation.
“So?”
“So, what?” He kept his head forward.
“Why would you say my husband is a fairy?”
Noble was tickled by Irish’s reaction to his remark. The gawking, the running after him, and her not thinking twice to get inside the car with him were red flags. His statement had knocked her off her four-inch heels. Rightfully so, he had just accused her husband of being gay.
“Because that’s what he is.”
“He is not,” she denied with such defensiveness that she could’ve been his lawyer.
“Then, why you almost jumped on my back when I said it? How come you sitting on the passenger side of my whip if it’s not the case?”
Irish didn’t realize that her reaction had given away what Noble suggested. She had to work on her body language if she wanted people to think Jovanis was a straight man.
“Because you just accused my husband of being a fairy—your term, not mine.”
Pulling up to a stoplight, Noble gave her his full attention.
Irish was a bad bitch. Way too gorgeous to be on Jovanis’ arm.
Noble was no hater, but she definitely raised his stock by being at his side.
How could one not notice Irish when she was such an odd beauty?
Her natural ginger hair against her toasted brown skin paired well like peanut butter and chocolate.
There were so many freckles on her face that Noble knew he would lose count if he tried counting.
Her almond eyes were decorated with ginger eyelashes, giving her such a unique look that Noble couldn’t stop staring at her.
What Irish wasn’t aware of was that her secret interest in him had been mutual.
The first time he spotted her, he asked about her relationship status but was letdown when he was notified that she belonged to Jovanis.
Not one to interfere with a marriage, he kept it pushing.
Still, Irish had an ‘it’ factor that piqued his curiosity.
It couldn’t be ignored and now that he had gotten her attention, Noble was confused on what to do with it.
“It’s cool, Irish, it can be our lil’ secret.”
“There is no secret to keep,” she stressed, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t know where you got that information, but it isn’t true.”
It had to be hell being a man’s beard. What was her incentive? Was it a fair exchange or was Irish being robbed of her loyalty? Noble had no clue. He resumed driving, making his way to the hood.
“Do you understand what I just told you?” Irish asked in her raspy tone. Even her voice was unique.
“I got you, Irish.”
“And how do you know my name?”
“The same way you know mine.”
“Hmm.” She cuffed her knee with her hands and gazed out the window. “What are we doing in Havenwood?”
“I gotta check up on something.”
Noble turned down a street then rounded the corner. Just as he suspected, a gang of TLM members were posted on the block, bringing unwanted attention to themselves.
“Dumb mothafuckas,” he mumbled, driving past.
“What’s the problem?” she asked, picking up on his disdain.
“They bringing too much attention which will cause the police to run down on them. Then, we’ll have to deal with them getting knocked, which means we bailing out niggas or they talking.”
“Then, why didn’t you say anything to them? Why drive right past them?”
Noble reclined in his seat. “‘Cause I don’t talk to them.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me, Irish.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You’re the leader of TLM. You have to talk to them.”
He simpered, glancing over at her. He wondered if she knew how fucking beautiful she was, or that she was playing herself by being another man’s front?
“So how does this work?” He changed the subject.
“How does what work?”
“You and Jovanis?”
Smacking her lips, she scoffed. “How else does a marriage work, Noble?”
He pulled over and placed the car in park. Noble wasn’t a man who did random shit like invite another man’s wife into his car, especially when he didn’t know her. Yet, Irish made him wonder, and he wanted to see where that would lead him.
“Listen, I ain’t trying to throw you off but stop the act. I know what it is, and I ain’t saying that to fuck with you. You don’t have to keep up this front ‘cause for one, I don’t give a fuck, and two, I don’t run my mouth. I’m a man. That gossiping shit is for birds and niggas with no purpose.”
Noble watched her deflate. Almost like she had been holding in a secret that kept her breath captive. The tough exterior had soon been replaced with one that showcased a bit of defeat.
“How did you know?” Her voice was just above a whisper. “…I can’t believe I just asked that.”
Noble couldn’t tell how he knew of Jovanis sexuality. All he could reveal was that he was aware.
“It’s my job to know everything in my position. Not too much shit fly past me.”
With eyes that held worry, she questioned, “Does anyone else knows?”
Shaking his head, he confirmed, “I don’t believe so.”
“That makes me feel better.” She touched the charm on her necklace, dragging it back and forth.
“So, what’s your incentive?”
“As far as what?”
“The setup. You gotta be getting something out of this.”
“Well, it’s not that simple.” She gulped.
“Jovanis does his thing and I do mine. We come together when necessary but outside of this setup, he’s my best friend.
We grew up together and formed a bond that I don’t think can be broken.
An incentive makes it so formal when it’s so much more than that.
He’s been there for me during my scariest moments… I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
There was something lacking within Irish. Noble spotted it. He was so well versed in women that he knew when one wasn’t completely at her best. She also possessed an aura of mystery. As if she had secrets buried in her mind that took much digging to get to.
“Do you have someone to talk to about this?”
“I don’t,” she admitted somberly. “I can’t express this to anyone, it would ruin Jovanis. But it gets tiring having to keep all of my thoughts inside because no one knows the truth about my life.”
Holding out his hand, he ordered, “Give me your phone.”
This was a violation. Noble was cognizant of that, but Irish was lowkey suffering in silence.
He didn’t know what propelled him to save his number in her phone.
Maybe it was that part of his mind that was engrossed with her.
Noble’s interest could have been on the many women that threw themselves in his direction, yet it wasn’t.
It lied with this ginger-haired beauty who seemed to have so much weight on her shoulders that it virtually cast her down.
“Whenever you need to talk, hit my line.” He passed the phone back to her.
Reluctantly, she took it back, staring at the new contact on her screen.
“Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest? You know? Us talking?”
Yeah, it would be… but I’ll put the ball in your court…
“Not if you make it a conflict of interest.”
The two locked gazes as Fabolous rapped lowly in the background. Damn, Noble couldn’t get enough of staring at her. This was so unlike him. Beautiful women didn’t move him. It was just a regular day when he did encounter one but never did he stumble on a woman that looked like Irish.
Without saying another word, Noble drove back to the hotel and pulled in front. Unlocking the doors, he looked at her.
“Um,” she hesitated. “You sure you’re not going to go back telling what our conversation consisted of?”
“You got my word, Irish.”
She had to know that he wasn’t a hoe-ass nigga that would run, telling the next man’s business.
“Okay.”
Slowly, she got out the car, giving him a view of her ass propped up in her denim jeans. She wasn’t the thickest he’d seen but she had enough back there to entice him. Before she closed the door, she gave him a small smile before ending their impromptu night.