9. Sincere
Seeing Journee at the dance hall wasn’t on my bingo card.
But I quickly made sure I capitalized on the divine setup.
I don’t believe in coincidences, and running into Journee three times has to mean something.
I lost interest in all conversations with my colleagues when my eyes landed on her.
I mean, thoughts lost in translation and everything.
I have never become stuck like that with a woman.
But there’s something magnetic about Journee that I need to learn more about.
The first step in figuring out if my attraction was mental or physical was the DJ giving me the perfect alley hoop with the couple’s dance segway.
What made it more interesting was my colleague Winfrey joining me to dance with the woman with Journee.
My pulse was wild with every step we took, and my heart practically jumped out of my chest when Journee collided her hand with mine.
Foreign images flashed quickly through my mind as I led Journee to the dance floor.
The moment I pulled her into my body at the intro for the song, everything and everyone faded into the background.
I almost felt like Diana Ross when she sang her popular song in The Wiz, and I know that’s cliché to think.
Yet, Journee made me feel things I wanted to bottle up.
But no matter how much I should be completing right now, my mind is in left field.
Journee’s image has been a constant in my mind from the time I cracked my eyes until now.
Just call her. You know you want to.
“But this ain’t how I move.”
To any unsuspecting person who passes my office, my competence could be called into question based on my one-side conversation. My stomach growls like a bear, and I take note of the time before a decision is made. Before I can stop myself, I send a quick message.
Me:
Good afternoon, Ms. Journee. How are things in the busy world of shop owners?
Corny!
I chuckle at the word because while I agree, I also don’t have the ability to change the message once it’s sent. Hopefully, Journee won’t assess me with the same lens.
Journee:
Hey. Things are good and not busy. I’m about to eat lunch in my office and watch Love Island on my phone.
Perfect!
Me:
Nice. What’s for lunch today?
I lock my computer and head toward my door, my concentration on the phone as the infamous three dots appear on my screen.
“I’m heading to lunch and should be back within two hours or so. Call or text if you need me.”
“Sounds good. Enjoy your lunch,” Cynthia says as I pass by her and quickly opt for the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.
Journee:
Nothing much, just a couple of almond butter and jam sandwiches and some chips.
Me:
Sounds boring.
Journee:
Maybe, but it’s tasty.
“Yeah, that won’t do, little mama.” I push open the door for the stair entrance and take the steps two at a time until I’m on the ground floor.
Then I exit the building and head to where my car is as my mind shifts through food options.
I feel inclined to feed not only myself but Journee, too.
If I’m being honest, it’s not about feeding her so much as it is about me just wanting to be in her space and breathe her air.
The woman got me feeling like a moth to a flame, and our interactions have been limited and nothing to write home about.
My chest feels like I’m at a rap concert as I walk toward the front entrance of Cocoa Luxe.
My sweaty hands have me tightly gripping what I’m hoping will be a nice gesture that Journee will appreciate as opposed to being creeped out by.
The doorbell announces my presence, and a cool smile slides into place as my eyes meet the woman.
“Welcome to Cocoa Luxe. How may I be of assistance?” A bubbly chocolate woman greets me when I walk through the doors of Journee’s business.
“Is Ms. Journee here?”
Her smile slips as she gives me a once-over, and her eyes tighten the longer she assesses me. I lift the bag in my hand onto the counter, then take a second to retrieve my phone and send a quick message.
Me:
Do you mind coming to the front? I don’t think your guard dog is gonna provide me with access to you otherwise.
Journee:
Uh, you’re here?
A genuine smile falls into place as I look up for a second to see the woman with a deep frown and pinched eyes. I type a quick reply.
Me:
I am, and I’m a little scared for my life with the look I’m getting right now. Save me, Journee.
Journee:
On my way
A shout of laughter falls from my mouth after that reply as I exit the thread, lock my phone, and put it back in my pocket.
“Are you done ignoring my question, or do I need to ask you to leave, because we don’t do creeps around here?” The ice in the woman’s question might cause a lesser man to fall back, but the presence of the person I’m here for instantly shifts my focus.
“I got it, Deanna. Come on, Sincere.” Journee’s tone is light and causes little tingles in my stomach as I grab the bag from the counter and walk toward her with an extra bounce in my step.
“Thanks for giving me his name since he wouldn’t,” Deanna says with a roll of her eyes that Journee laughs off.
The sound has a goofy grin sliding into place on my lips just as I reach her. “Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but your struggle meal didn’t sit right with me.” I lift the bag so she could see that I had brought her something else to eat.
“Ooh, Good & Yummy has the best sandwiches. You’re alright with me. Come on. I might have to extend my lunch for this pop-up.” Journee grabs my forearm and leads me in the direction she came from.
My smile deepens at knowing that I did something right with this woman.
Seeing the presence of her smile and the beam in her eyes makes my split-second decision to pop up on her worth it.
Good & Yummy is a local deli spot that offers every type of sandwich you can think of.
It was also an eatery that wouldn’t take too long to make this plan happen.
A couple of seconds later, we walk into an office that instantly gives off girly vibes.
The crisp air, driftwood, and green apple scent that invades my nostrils have my eyes zeroing in on the lit candle on an end table.
There’s a leather sofa with yellow pillows and a crumpled yellow throw blanket next to the table as light music plays around the room.
“Oh, you were in here chilling, huh?”
“Mm-hmm. I just lay down to take a little nap, but here you come throwing a monkey wrench in my plans.” Her tone is playful as she extends her hand when she takes a seat on the sofa.
“My bad. I just thought it was a disservice to know that your stomach would be overeating its lining with those two pieces of dry bread you forced it to take.”
“Oh, you tried it. But what did you bring?” Journee’s left brow hikes as her eyes shift from me to the bag I set between us.
I smirk, open the bag, and pull out the contents as my heart rate increases slightly.
I feel like this is a pivotal moment, which is crazy because this isn’t a date or anything that should cause any level of anxiety.
Yet, I still want Journee to approve of my selections.
Without a word, I extend the sandwiches I have to Journee as I hold my breath in anticipation of her reaction.
Her eyes bounce from me to the sandwich before she takes a millisecond to break the seal and unwrap the paper.
“Hold up. You talked about my sandwiches, and you brought me a BLT?” Journee giggles.
“Not just any BLT, that’s a double-decker, and it also has avocado on it with their special sauce. I was told it would change the game, which made me decide to take the risk. Besides, I didn’t want you to be too full after those imitation lunch treats you consumed.”
Journee laughs hysterically as she hits my leg, and it feels like I just got hit by lightning from the zing that surges through my body.
“You ain’t right, and for your information, I didn’t eat the second one thanks to you acting like I was committing some type of sin.”
“Perfect. Let’s say grace and then see if the sauce is as good as the person working the register suggested.”
I hold out my hands for Journee to place hers inside mine as my eyes connect with hers.
The genuine happiness in her eyes makes me happy as I bow my head before I say or do something neither of us is ready for.
I say grace over our lunch, and we dig in as simultaneous moans escape both of our mouths.
My dick hardens and jerks at hearing Journee’s appreciative reaction to the simple but delicious sandwich choice.
“Okay. I can admit when I’m wrong. This ain’t no regular BLT. Dang.”
I nod as I momentarily get caught up in watching Journee as she takes another bite of the stacked sandwich. Unable to stop myself, I gently swipe the sauce from the corner of Journee’s lip. Our eyes dance as I lick it from my finger, and somehow the flavor tastes better than what I’ve had so far.
“Mm. That’s good.” My words are as thick as the air in the room as Journee’s eyes flash with either agreement, awe, or interest.
“Yes, it is.” Journee takes another bite of her sandwich as I force myself to disconnect our eye contact.
My dick twitches, as my mind fills with thoughts of not only laying Journee back on this couch but also smearing the sauce on several parts of her body. My mouth waters as I try to concentrate on eating my sandwich.
Down, big fella. We ain’t here to be disrespectful, and we definitely ain’t about to mess up the opportunity to do this again.
I mentally coach myself as my thoughts swirl with wayward thoughts of how the sauce on this BLT would taste from Journee’s neck.
“How’s your day been? You didn’t have to be in court today?”
I finish the bite of food in my mouth as I try to swipe my teeth clean of any remnants with my tongue before I answer her questions.
“It’s been pretty uneventful, and no, I didn’t have to be in court. I will be tomorrow, though. Today is my prep day.”
“Oh no. I don’t want to delay your process.”
Journee grabs the paper and wraps it around the remaining portion of the sandwich as I chuckle before I grab her hands.
“You’re not delaying anything. We’re in your territory, remember?” I smirk.
Revelation shines in Journee’s eyes as the heat from her gaze somehow eases onto my hands that have yet to release her from my grip. Comfort and something foreign war as I finally release her.
“How have things been for you today? How’s my Sweet Face?”
Your Sweet Face?
I ignore the statement as I resume eating like Journee and I are talking about the dramatic change in our weather.
“Business is great. Milan has been giving me a run for my money. I thought people talked about the terrible twos. But there are days when I want to snatch what little hair I have out of my head. She’s lucky she’s cute and her daddy ain’t shit.”
My mind spins with thoughts upon hearing the latter part of her statements. Any man who chooses to be an ain’t-shit man where his child is concerned isn’t a man at all. The spark of heat in Journee’s eyes tells me that something is amiss with the boy who got her pregnant.
“Let’s put a pin in that topic for now. What do you do for fun? When you’re not out here slaying motherhood and being a boss?”
There will be plenty of time to find out the details of the male species I already have an issue with.
Milan is a beautiful little girl, and if she were mine, there would never come a day when I wasn’t in her presence.
But it’s cool. If I have it my way, Milan or Journee won’t feel that neglect for much longer.