Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Lot
The whole damn thing.
Ilean into the bathroom mirror, smoothing my edges around my face.
Hair styled in two space buns sitting high and tucked tight, a couple locs left wilding out.
Big hoops glint at my ears. Black ribbed dress is snug enough to lift Maurice’s eyebrows, but not short enough to give him cardiac arrest. Balance and effort.
I’m respecting him without changing myself.
This dinner was Mom’s idea. She swears it’s just a casual meal as if I don’t know she’s staging a whole to-do like a couple’s coming-out party now that Dice and I are officially together.
Behind me, his reflection steals my attention. Beard glistening, broad shoulders filling up the frame. His dark sweater stretches over his chest, zipper teasing low enough to show his silver chain and for the eagle tattoo to peek out.
“You look good, Jones. Makes me want to tear your clothes off and lick you all over.”
His gaze drops from my face to the contoured dress, lingering at my legs in sheer tights and chunky sole combat boots, before sliding back up. “Not tryna to walk into your parents’ house with a hard-on.”
“That would make quite the impression.”
He grins, but it’s one of those tight ones. I feel his nerves like static in the air. Dice could step into a packed club, crowd screaming his name, bass rattling the walls, and not blink. But dinner with my family’s got him sweating like he’s about to take the SATs.
“I know it’s a lot,” I say. “Never brought a man home before. So, tonight’s probably gonna be extra. Mom. Maurice. Rayne, Uncle Mo. You’re getting the entire clan. Plus, my mom’s roast that’s only for special occasions. Bet she’s pulling out the fine china, too.”
“It’s all good, Web. Just wanna make sure I come correct with you proud to claim me.”
His words squeeze my chest. He’s been through it these past couple weeks—unraveling messy family knots, facing his past. Making moves to uproot his whole life to be with me in New York. That’s huge. That’s commitment. He has nothing to prove to anybody.
“I’m proud to enter any room with you, Jones,” I tell him, letting it settle over us like a promise. “If Maurice even looks at you sideways, I’ll be snatching off these hoops.”
“Okay, Laila Ali.” He laughs. “But nobody’s gonna be fighting.” His arms slip around my waist, pulling me into his chest as he smiles at our reflection. “First off, you and your dad are in a good place, so let’s keep it that way. And second, Maurice and I have reached an understanding.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Friendly truce?”
“Friendly might be a stretch. More like mutual tolerance.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” I frown.
“From where we were, that’s a win. So how about you stop stressing and just enjoy the night with your family… and your man. Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
He places a kiss on my neck, sliding his lips up to that sensitive spot behind my ear.
“We got time for a quickie,” I say, already moaning.
He nips my earlobe. “Save it for me.”
“Fine.” I turn into his arms, loving this man like crazy. “Let’s do this. But if my mom starts asking about baby names, we peacing out.”
The house smells like Mom’s southern roots. Pork shoulder roasting low and slow, black-eyed peas and rice simmering, collard greens and cornbread cooling on the counter.
She greets me with a big hug, then, thanking Dice for the bouquet, pulls him into one too. She’s always had a soft spot for him, said he had “good eyes” even back when he was running wild.
Maurice gives my dress the expected hmph, but his embrace is warm. “It’s good to see you, Charlotte.” Then he looks at Dice.
“Dyson.”
“Maurice,” he answers, steady under a stare that can cut a man down. But Dice meets him right there. “Thanks for having me in your home.”
My father’s stare breaks and he nods, all thunder on the surface with nothing striking underneath.
Uncle Mo slaps Dice on the shoulder. “It’s been a while. You look good, son.”
“So do you.” Dice grins, clocking the pinstripe suit. “Dapper as ever.”
Rayne’s smile could power the whole house, same as at lunch.
“Girl, you need to take that wattage down a notch before you blind somebody.”
“Don’t rain on my shine, boo. I like seeing you and Dice together. Makes me wanna get turnt,” she adds, lowering her voice. “I’m thinking about using an escort service.”
“Girl, you know you don’t need to pay for sex.”
“Why not? It’s discreet. I order to my specifications. Big, and either milk or dark chocolate.”
“You shopping for a man or Godiva?”
“You know I love me some Godiva.” Then she quips, just for my ears, “I want the extra-large box with the nuts.”
I burst out laughing. “You so crazy.”
Mom calls us to the table then. The dining room looks fit for royalty. Great grandmama’s china on white linen, crystal flutes, tapered candles flanking the vase of Dice’s flowers. She even pulled out the gold threaded napkins and polished silverware. The whole nine.
Conversation flows easily. Uncle Mo keeps it going with his natural flair. Rayne shoots me heart eyes every time Dice refills my glass, and Mom glows whenever he compliments her cooking.
But Dice… he’s quiet. Not his usual smooth, joking self.
He laughs in the right places, answers questions, but I can feel the tension rolling through him like a current.
Strange, since the dinner is going so well.
Even my father’s being pleasant. No grunts or piercing glares.
We talk about Dice moving to New York, and he sounds eager about it, so it can’t be that. At least, I hope not.
Halfway through dessert—a peach cobbler my mother thankfully did not bake—Dice clears his throat. And stands.
My fork stills. What is he doing?
“Maurice, Belinda,” he begins, “thank you for making me feel welcome, and for sharing your incredible daughter with me. That means more than I can say.”
Mom presses her hand to her chest. Maurice narrows his eyes. Rayne leans so far forward I think she might fall straight into the pie.
Dice’s gaze remains on my parents. “I’ve known Lot more than half my life.
She was my shelter in the storm. Always there.
I didn’t appreciate her nearly enough until she was gone.
Losing her was… well, it was devastating to put it mildly.
I didn’t think I’d ever get a second chance.
And then she was back. Beautiful and tough as ever.
In true Lot fashion, she made me work for her affection. ”
Laughter ripples around the table, Rayne chiming, “You know that’s right.”
But I can’t laugh. I can hardly breathe.
“She scared the hell out of me,” Dice continues. “I didn’t know if I could be the man she needed. Didn’t know if I had that in me. But Lot showed me love. She showed me softness. She showed me that I was worth more than I ever believed.” His eyes finally break from my parents and land gently on me.
“Lot, my queen, my spiderweb girl, looking at you for a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough. I want to spend every day waking up to your face and loving you as hard as you love me.”
He drops beside my chair, going down on one knee.
My stomach plummets even as my heart soars.
“You’re not serious,” I whisper, disbelief catching in my throat.
“Told you I was.”
The table disappears. It’s just him and me.
“You already took one shot on me, baby. Now I’m asking for another one. The whole damn thing. Do me the honor of being my wife.” He pulls a small box from his pocket and flips it open. “Will you marry me, Lot?”
I cover my gasp behind my hand. The ring gleams against the velvet—a dramatic black band with an elongated diamond, pointed at the top and bottom, and blazing in the center.
The room falls silent. The only sound is the rush of blood thundering in my ears.
Marriage was the one thing I swore I didn’t need.
I was never that girl dreaming of a prince and a white gown.
I would’ve been happy sharing an apartment with Dice, building a life without that formality. Without a ceremony.
But looking at him down on bended knee, offering me everything with a sure steadiness, and a ring that couldn’t be more me… the tears break loose. It’s exactly what I didn’t know I wanted.
“Yes,” I choke out, smiling through the blur.
“With you, I’ve learned softness isn’t weakness.
Bending isn’t breaking. I’ve learned that leaning on each other only makes us stronger.
You make me feel safe to bend, to lean, to grow.
I feel seen and loved by you in every way.
And I can’t wait to make you my husband. ”
His grin stretches wide as he slides the ring onto my finger. It fits like it was born there.
I pull him up, throw my arms around him, kissing his face, his mouth. Another of his grand gestures, the grandest, and this time he included my family.
The room erupts. Mom crying, Uncle Mo clapping, Rayne squealing. Even Maurice extends a hand to Dice, his smile faint but real. Not that it would change anything. His blessing would be nice, sure. But with or without it, I’d choose Dyson Jones every damn day.