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Riding the Storm - Brenda Jackson [28]

By Root 463 0
be a controlling husband.

She got out of bed, slipped into her robe, walked over to the window and glanced out to watch the impending sunrise. Tomorrow, she and Storm would bring an end to their short affair and she hoped when they returned to Atlanta that they didn’t run into each other anytime soon. It would be difficult to see him and not think about the intimacy they had shared here in The Big Easy. There definitely wouldn’t be anything easy about that.

Storm slid his hands around Jayla’s waist and pulled her snugly against him. “An hour?” he asked with a puzzled lift of his brow. “Are you saying it will take you an entire hour to pick out an outfit for tonight?”

She smiled up at him. “Yes. Already I see a number of things in this dress shop that I want to try on. It has to be just perfect.”

“Jayla,” he began, but she cut him off.

“Please, Storm. I want a new outfit for tonight.”

He studied the excitement in Jayla’s face, thinking she was even more beautiful than before, if that were possible. When he had met her for breakfast, he’d told her of the phone call he had received from his cousin Ian. Ian, a good friend of New Orleans’s mayor, had been invited to a huge gala being given in the man’s honor. Ian had invited Storm as his guest and Storm had gotten the okay to bring Jayla as his date. Instead of going sightseeing as they had originally planned, Jayla had insisted that the first thing she needed to do was go shopping for something to wear that night.

“All right, I guess I can find something to kill time while you shop,” he said releasing her. “But I’ll be back in a hour, Jayla.”

She grinned, nodding. “And I’ll have everything I need by then.”

A short while later, Storm took his time as he strolled around Jackson Square. It was a beautiful day and a lot of tourists were out and about. He smiled when he thought of how excited Jayla had been when he’d mentioned tonight’s affair. He had enjoyed seeing her happy. He was also enjoying her company…almost a little too much. She was definitely someone he liked being with, both in and out of bed. More than once he had to remind himself not to make more of what they were sharing than there was.

It was no big deal that over the past few days, they’d discovered that they enjoyed many of the same things. She liked jazz, and so did he; she enjoyed watching bone-chilling thriller movies and so did he. She was one of the few people who lived in Atlanta whose favorite football team wasn’t the Atlanta Falcons. His favorite team was the Dallas Cowboys and she was a fan of the Philadelphia Eagles.

It seemed the only thing they didn’t agree on was his belief that a woman’s place was at home raising her kids and not in an office all day. Jayla insisted that a man who held such traditional views would be too controlling in a marriage. He didn’t see himself as wanting to control, but rather he saw himself as someone who wanted to be the sole provider for his family in the purest sense of the word.

He glanced at his watch. He still had over forty-five minutes to go before he went back to that dress shop for Jayla. Damn, but he missed her already. A warning bell suddenly went off in his head. He’d never admitted to missing a woman before, so why was he doing it now? He sighed deeply, deciding to be honest with himself. The honest truth was he liked having Jayla around and for him that didn’t bode well.

He frowned as he continued to walk around Jackson Square, wondering what was there about her that was getting to him and playing games with his mind? They were games he had no desire to play. She knew the score and so did he. Neither of them wanted anything beyond what they were sharing here in New Orleans. Getting together and developing some sort of relationship when they returned to Atlanta was unacceptable, totally out of the question, a definite bad idea.

Then why was he allowing such thoughts to invade his mind?

“You’re confused, aren’t you?”

Storm turned to the sound of the craggy voice and saw an old woman sitting on the bench less than five feet from where he stood.

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