11. Celeste #2
Leilani looked entirely too pleased with herself. “You think he’s fine?”
I lowered my hands. “Who?” Every face in the room looked at me. I sighed. “Yes.”
Cassia leaned in. “How fine?”
“Too fine for me to be answering this around women who can’t be trusted.”
Leilani grinned. “Mm-hmm. Does he kiss good?”
My face answered before I could lie.
The room erupted.
“Look at her!”
Calista pointed at my face. “That’s confirmation.”
Corinne clapped once through the phone. “I knew that electrician had voltage.”
Leilani fanned herself with a chip. “I hope he grounded.”
I smiled and grabbed my perfume from the dresser. “I hate all of you.”
Leilani grinned. “No, you don’t. Now spray something that says I love the Lord, but I might let him hold my hand by the fountain.”
The doorbell rang.
Every woman froze.
My heart jumped so hard I pressed my hand to my chest.
Cassia whispered, “The shoulders have arrived.”
Calista looked toward the hallway. “Everybody act normal.”
Leilani blinked. “When have we ever done that?”
Corinne shouted through the phone, “Take me with you. I need to see him.”
I picked up the phone. “Absolutely not.”
“Girl, don’t you hang up on me.”
“You can call back when you remember you’re not on this date.”
I ended the call before she could threaten me, and my phone immediately started buzzing again on the vanity.
Cassia looked at it. “She calling back.”
I walked toward the door. “Let her fight voicemail.”
By the time I reached the living room, Calista, Cassia, and Leilani had somehow arranged themselves like they were not absolutely waiting to inspect this man.
Calista stood near the fireplace with a glass of water she had not been drinking.
Cassia sat on the arm of the couch with one ankle crossed over the other, pretending to scroll through her phone upside down.
Leilani stood by the entry table rubbing her belly, looking innocent enough to be indicted.
I opened the door before any of them could say something that got us all delivered.
Josiah stood on my porch holding a small bouquet of cream roses, lavender, and eucalyptus.
His eyes moved over me once. Slow enough to be honest. Respectful enough to let me breathe.
“Celeste.”
My name sounded different in his mouth tonight. Closer.
“Hi,” I said, forgetting every degree I’d ever earned.
He smiled and held out the bouquet. “For you.”
I took it, and the lavender brushed my wrist. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Behind me, somebody made a sound that might’ve been a cough if my people had any shame.
Josiah’s eyes flicked over my shoulder. “Good evening, ladies.”
Calista came forward first, full little-sister boldness wrapped in a polite smile. “Good evening, Josiah.”
“Ms. Calista.”
Cassia’s eyebrows rose. “He knows names?”
“I pay attention.”
Leilani grinned. “We heard.”
I turned and looked at her.
She rubbed her belly. “What? The baby said it.”
Cassia gave him the full scan from his boots to his braids and back down to the tattoos near his wrists. “What time are you bringing her back?”
“Whenever she’s ready to come home. But I won’t keep her out too late. I’m not reckless.”
Calista tilted her head. “That’s a good answer.”
“It was the honest one.”
Leilani stepped closer, one hand still on her belly. “And you understand she’s precious cargo, right?”
Josiah looked at me then, not them. “Yes, ma’am. I do.”
The room changed by a degree.
I looked down at the flowers before my face betrayed me.
Calista reached for the bouquet. “I’ll put these in water.”
I gave her a warning look.
She leaned close as she took them. “Have fun. Don’t overthink. And if you do something, hydrate.”
“Goodbye, Calista.”
Cassia hugged me next, whispering, “Text us if you need an alibi or lip gloss.”
Leilani pulled me close last, her belly between us. “Let yourself enjoy it, Celly. You don’t have to punish yourself before happiness even knocks.”
That one went straight through me. I nodded because words would’ve done too much.
Josiah waited at the door while I grabbed my purse.
He didn’t rush me, didn’t reach for my waist in front of my people, didn’t act like their presence annoyed him.
He stood there with his hands relaxed at his sides, letting my family fuss because he seemed to understand fussing was sometimes how love checked the locks.
When we stepped onto the porch, he held out his hand. I took it.
His fingers closed around me with a steady warmth that made the noise inside my chest lower itself. He walked me to his truck, opened my door, and helped me up with one hand at mine and the other hovering near my back, close enough to catch me, careful enough not to claim more than I had offered.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m good.”
Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead, slow and certain, before stepping back to close the door.
From the porch, Cassia yelled, “We saw that!”
Josiah laughed as he walked around the front of the truck. By the time he got in, I was still trying not to smile and failing like I had been paid to fail publicly.
He started the engine. “You ready?”
“I was until my family started acting like they were raised outside.”
“They love you.”
“They’re nosy.”
“Both can be true.”
“That sounds exactly like something JJ would say.”
“Smart man.”
I looked over at him. “Don’t encourage my grown child.”
Josiah pulled from the curb with one hand on the wheel and the other resting near the console. “I would never disrespect the chain of command in your house.”
I blinked. “The chain of command?”
“Yes, ma’am. You at the top. JJ somewhere under you.
Kayden probably patrolling the emotional perimeter.
Maya acting unbothered while paying attention to everything.
Zuri asking questions she already knows the answers to.
And Skye somewhere trying to sneak syrup into a backpack like she’s running a breakfast operation. ”
I laughed before I could stop myself. “You have never met all my children at one time and still somehow read my house down.”
“I pay attention.”
He reached across the console without looking away from the road and opened his hand. He didn’t grab mine. Didn’t assume. Just offered.
I stared at his palm for a moment, then gave him my hand.
He laced our fingers and rested them against the console like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb brushed my knuckles.
“So,” I said because silence was getting too bold, “where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Josiah.”
“Celeste.”
“Why did you tell me to dress comfortably?”
He glanced over, and his eyes moved over me once, quicker this time because he was driving. “Because we’ll be doing some walking. And because you look beautiful, as always, but I wanted you comfortable enough to enjoy yourself.”
My cheeks warmed. “You always answer like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you know exactly where to put the words.”
His laugh moved low through the truck. “I don’t always know where to put them. I just don’t like wasting the ones that matter.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you know you sound good.”
“I’m glad it’s working.”
He laughed then, low and full, and the sound filled the truck.
We turned off DePriest and cut through a calmer part of Self Ridge, where old brick buildings sat between new businesses, and oak trees arched over the street with moss hanging from their limbs.
The evening had softened into that hour between day and night when everything looked forgiving.
Storefront windows glowed. A couple walked hand in hand past a mural of Black children reading under a magnolia tree.
The protest inside my stomach finally began to settle.
Then Josiah turned onto a narrow side street and slowed in front of an old brick building almost hidden behind ivy.
There was no large sign, no bright marquee, nothing screaming for attention.
Just a copper plaque near a black iron gate that read The Blooming Room Conservatory.
Ivy crawled up the walls in thick green ropes, curling around the windows and climbing toward the roof like it had been growing there since somebody’s grandmother first asked for something pretty to survive the city.
I sat up straighter.
“Wait.”
Josiah parked and looked over at me. “You know it?”
“No.” I stared through the windshield. “But what is this?”
“Come see.”
He got out before I could demand more answers, then came around to open my door. He held my hand and steadied me, his other hand near my waist for one careful second before he let it go.
“You steady?” he asked.
“No,” I said honestly, looking past him toward the ivy-covered gate. “But not because of the truck.”
His smile deepened.
He led me through the gate, and the moment we stepped inside, my whole body forgot how to be guarded.
The Blooming Room opened like a secret the city had been keeping for people who still believed wonder could live behind brick.
Glass ceilings stretched above us, catching the last blue of the evening and reflecting lantern light in warm, gold pools.
Wisteria hung from iron beams in lavender cascades.
Lemon trees lined the walkway, their glossy leaves shining beneath warm string lights.
Josiah stopped beside me.
I couldn’t move.
I pressed a hand to my chest. “Josiah.”
He stood beside me, watching my face instead of the flowers. “You like it?”
I turned toward him slowly. “Do I like it?”
His smile came with quiet satisfaction.
“This is so damn cute. Oh my God.”
I bounced on my toes before I could stop myself.
Josiah laughed, low and full, the sound warm enough to make the lanterns feel like they had moved closer. “You too damn cute, with your pretty ass.”
My whole dance stumbled.
I turned to him with my mouth open, heat rushing into my cheeks. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t even blink. His eyes stayed on me, steady and pleased, like watching me enjoy something he had planned was its own reward. “You heard me.”
“Josiah.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You can’t just say stuff like that while I’m trying to look at flowers.”