~11~

As my grandmother sang “Lord, Don’t Let Me Fail,” I hummed the right key to keep her at an agreeable pitch. I didn’t want Wynter to finally run from one of our post-dinner worship meets like a bat out of hell. It was enough she would politely sit through them and be agreeable to going to bed at ten o’clock every night, or pretend to. But she’d also come out tonight without being invited. I knew it pleased my grandmother, but I didn’t want it to turn the girl off.

“When my faith gets weak…Lord, help me see…something in my life thou hast done for me…” Pastor McKinnon sang her soul free, eyes closed, and clutched fists waving in the chilled air.

A worshipper at heart and a person who sang in his sleep, I couldn’t get into it tonight. Watching the dancing flames from the fire pit out back, I felt restless. My grandmother had been here for almost two weeks now, and my life had been at a standstill. The tour was on pause, the scripts I was sent for potential roles didn’t intrigue me at all, and craziest of all, I had a woman sleeping in my bed. The only thing that felt normal was my real estate and investments business. Things were picking up with one and running smoothly with the other.

Still…I was restless. Having a woman in my personal space had been taking its toll on me. Made me crave pussy, something I could stretch the distance between having usually. Maybe it was smelling her after scent she left in the bathrooms, the lingering perfume and natural body odor from her clothes hanging in my closet. It could have been from seeing her in little shorts and braless tanks at night while we pretended to be sleeping for my grandmother. I didn’t know. But my hunger couldn’t be dismissed. I thought about making a call to relieve myself a few times. The fact that I didn’t bothered me, too.

And where was Mike? He’d made this mess I’d been trying to make the best out of. Getting to know Wynter wasn’t the plan. Having her in my bed had never been a thought. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep up this dog and pony act. I thought about telling my grandmother she had to go. Yeah right. That would never happen. The woman could spit in my face and I wouldn’t have the balls to kick her out. And I couldn’t leave the estate for a getaway until she was ready to go back home. Wynter was here. It was clear to everybody, including the public, this was our time to build a foundation for our marriage.

Whatever the hell that is… 

“Wynter, baby,” My grandmother’s soul-reaching eyes were on Wynter, who sat on the other side of the wicker sofa from me. “We’re always out here, in the midst of praise and worship and you stay quiet. The Lord just told me you have something you have to say.”

Huhn?

When did my grandmother even stop singing? I’d been so lost in my head, I missed it.

Wynter was curled up in the corner. Her feet tucked underneath her while the blanket covered her body. Her head straightened and eyes went wide.

No…

She was doing well. Minding her business, getting lost in her head while she played along with this. Why would my grandmother provoke this girl? She’d been playing nice. How could she politely say, “Your god lied to you?”

Wynter’s forehead creased and my stomach jumped. She rubbed her lips together as her eyes fell to the dancing flames separating us from my naïve and ultra-spiritual grandmother, who waited with determined patience.

“Actually, yeah.” Her frown deepened. “I think.”

Oh, no…

I swallowed, trying to prepare for a verbal cover up.

“Raj and I were talking last night about purpose,” Wynter shared, her eyes somewhere in the distance now. “And it’s been eating at me all day.”

“What about it?” my grandmother pushed.

“He said God has born everyone into this earth with purpose attached to our existence. And all day I’ve been thinking about how it applies to me. Like… Trying to go back as far as I can remember to my mother before she died, my grandparents and messages they gave me, my father…” Wynter’s eyes closed in pain and annoyance, it seemed. “I’ve been thinking about my career and how I didn’t choose to go into the line of work I did; I just landed there. And it seemed I wasn’t happy, but couldn’t be promoted. I felt forced to stay at a job that didn’t pay much and honestly, had aged me prematurely.”

“Hmmm…” My grandmother seemed wrapped up in the picture Wynter was painting.

Hell, I was, too.

“Then Raj happened. I got swept up in this affair. I was thrust into a new life. My address changed, lifestyle changed, but I still don’t feel settled.” Wynter’s eyes appeared on me. “It’s hard when you’re spending so much time with a man born with many talents and on top of that, he’s still hungry. Still ambitious. It makes you question yourself.” She took a deep breath, forehead still wrinkled and lips pouting. “Then, last night, he hit me with ‘the safest and most content place for a man or woman is in the will of God, even when it feels like the loneliest and scariest place there is. And that has me wondering if God’s okay with me being unhappy—unsettled, I mean!”

There was a sincerity to her tone and cadence. These past few months had been an adjustment for her, up until recently with the sleeping arrangements and diet plan.

After processing it a little more, I realized Wynter was telling her truth, just leaving out my lies when crying out for help. But she wasn’t a damsel in distress. Hell no. Wynter was shaping up to be the strongest woman I’d ever encountered. Yes, she was unwanted in my world most of this time. She knew it even when I was too indifferent for her to feel it. And when I did remind her of it, I was harsh. But Wynter was a bonafide G through the whole thing. She’d made a commitment and even through feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome, she stayed the course.

When she did shit like this… When she yielded herself to vulnerability. When she took my directions at exercising and eating well…

As barbaric and controlling as that sounds, it appealed to me. Made me pay attention to her over the past week or so. Observing her determination to lose weight and make a lifestyle change while doing it piqued my interest. It actually inspired me. Wynter kind of inspired me. She had been surviving me.

“Amen,” my grandmother nodded as she responded. “Marriage ain’t easy. Figuring out God’s ways ain’t either. I can’t tell you a whole lot about a husband; I ain’t have much of one long enough. But I can tell you about my God and how He’ll never leave you or forsake you. Just pray on it, daughter.” My grandmother’s tone fell into a preacher’s grunts. “I feel it in my spirit. You are in the will of God. Gee-Gee’s birthright in the Kingdom is strong and highly placed. Calling so strong, he can’t keep running from it. You’re safe. Safe in His arms, daughter.”

My grandmother fell into a hymn, “Safe in His Arms.”

This time, I couldn’t help her out. I was too caught up in my own revelations about my fake wife.

I hiked the stairs with the phone to my ear. My thighs burned with each step up, thanks to the crazy exercise regimen I’d taken on a few days ago. And no different from any other night since I started, I was tired as hell, absolutely depleted.

“You sure you’re okay?”

I scoffed, “Why do you keep asking me that?”

“Because in the little time I had to get to you, I realized you’re a tough cookie. And how low maintenance you are with your feelings. You take a lot of shit, and I know Raj can be known to throw lots of it. His ass is high maintenance, let me tell you.”

I snickered near the top of the stairs. My eyes scanned the second level, cognizant of the time. Pastor McKinnon should have been in bed by now. After dinner tonight, I excused myself to go drop off money to one of Van’s daughters, who would take school pictures the next day. Her mother called me at the last minute, though that wasn’t new. Then I stopped by MaMa’s to see Asia. She and Wanda were in town again. The questions that little girl had about me being married to Ragee! It was comical.

“How are you out there?” I tried changing the subject.

Something felt odd about speaking of him with her. I couldn’t put my finger on what.

“Bored.” Myisha alleged.

“Bored? You’re supposed to be out there—” I lowered my voice, trekking down the hall to the master suite. “—sucking and fucking. It’s been a minute for me, but when did that turn boring?”

I opened one of the two double doors to a dim room, smelling of potpourri. As I stepped inside, my eyes automatically went to the left to peek into the sitting room. I didn’t see his head over there, neither was the television on. Then I noticed the balcony door cracked. Something leaped in my belly when I decided to head straight there after dumping my backpack on the chaise near the door.

“I’m getting there,” Myisha sighed.

“Not on the express pass your ass was talking before you left.”

Before I touched the handle of the door, I smelled the aromatic miscellany of pears, apples, and grapes of a brandy and the burning of tobacco whispered against the soft hairs inside my nostrils. A brush of excitement tickled over me from head to toe. He was out there. Sitting back in a padded metal chair. His long legs were stretched into another as his head tilted back, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“Anyway!” she giggled softly. “I’m getting there. Don’t you worry. How’s my cousin treating you?”

I stepped out onto the balcony and moved past Raj to the one available chair unoccupied.    

“Ain’t nobody thinking about your grumpy ass cousin.” Our eyes locked. “He better lay low. I can smother his face with a pillow while he’s sleep now that we’re in the same room, if he fucks with me.” Ragee’s messy brows lifted, a glint of humor dancing in his eyes. “How much longer will your grandmother be here?” I placed the call on speaker, laying it on the table.

Then I reached over it for the tumbler I knew held Mauve. Raj watched with heavy eyes as I drank from it.

“I don’t know. Raj asked me the same thing earlier. I forgot to call Evangelist Mary to snoop for an answer. Honestly,” Myisha’s voice was laced with concern, “I’ve never known her to be away from the church this long.”

Raj’s eyes fell away from mine to the phone. It seemed like he processed that revelation.

“Oh, okay,” I answered after swallowing the spicy juice.

“I’ll call her in the morning when I know she’s up and about. But what are you doing up at the estate to keep yourself from dying of boredom?”

My eyes were on her cousin when I answered, “Killing the Groupon game.” I smiled at him with my eyes.

His expression was as quizzical as Myisha’s tone.

“Huhn?”

“I got my teeth whitened today. The best eighty bucks I’ve spent in a while.”

This time, I included my mouth with my smile and exposed my teeth to Raj across from me. I saw as he peered over my choppers, but he gave no reaction to them.

“Oh! You can do that with Groupon? I always wondered what that’s about. I see the ads for it when I’m surfing the net.”

“Sounds like rich people’s ignorance, Myisha,” I informed.

Raj laughed quietly. His smile was beautiful when I wasn’t the subject of his humor. In fact, his smile was magnetic either way. Before, I was too offended by his nasty vibes to notice.

Myisha was laughing, too, just out loud. “You’re so crazy, girl! Anyway,” she tried to slow her hoots. “I gotta go. A business call is coming in. Listen, if Raj’s ass gets out of hand, I’m just a call away. I can get him right from halfway across the world.”

“Will do. Have fun.” When I wanted to be more specific about the type of fun, I decided to disconnect the call.

It could have been weird discussing sex in front of her big cousin. For most women, it was. I was the exception. I told Van about lots of my trysts.

Ragee didn’t speak and neither did I. He broke our gaze by drawing the cigar to his mouth and pulling from it. He held in for a few seconds before blowing the smoke out into the air. That made me curious. I stretched across the table and reached for it gingerly. I’d smoked weed before and knew to err on the side of caution as I inhaled. It could have been from the sip I’d just had, his Mauve stained lips having just been on the butt of the cigar, or perhaps the flavor, but I sensed a hint of brandy in the taste.

Raj watched me with muted curiosity. He sang more than he spoke around me other than when he was bossing me around in his gym, so I was used to his silence. After taking another pull, I handed the stogie back over to him.

I licked my lips. “The combination is robust…flavorful. I see why you like them together.”

He nodded his acknowledgement before drawing from it himself again.

“I have another proposition for you.” Raj scoffed, his attention still on the glistening lake ahead. Then his eyes rolled back over to me. “I’m in a jam.”

“What kind?”

“I need an attorney for my uncle. He’s how I…” I rubbed my chin, being careful of my words. “I got into bed with Mike Brown. Mike was supposed to help me out with a lawyer, but the one he recommended has been negligent, to say the least.”

His brows met. “Who he hook you up with?”

I shrugged with a heavy heart. “Some Marcus Greene guy. Van’s seen him only twice in four months. He keeps postponing going in front of the judge with bullshit reasons.”

“Who’s Van?”

I rolled my eyes, realizing I’d gotten ahead of myself. “My uncle. He got arrested in September. It was pretty bad. Still looks bad, but Mike has me convinced that with a good lawyer—the right lawyer—we can beat the case.”

“That’s when y’all planned this fake marriage shit?” his deep tenor was inquisitive versus indignant.

“He planned this. Seemed to already have it worked out when I met him and found out what he wanted me to do in exchange.”

Slowly, Ragee nodded as his eyes went back out into the dark cold. How he only sat out here in a hoodie was beyond me. I’d started getting cold and rubbed my hands together. Then I thought of his brandy and grabbed the glass for more.

“Sip,” he croaked. When my face fell and brows rose, he amended, “You sip Mauve, not gulp it down like a B-Way Burger.”

At the mention of that, my eyes closed and I moaned feverishly. “Why’d you have to mention B-Way? I’ve been dying for a double with double cheese!”

When I opened my eyes, Raj looked legit disturbed by the sudden appearance of my inner fat girl. My eyes rolled away in shame.

“What do I get in return?”

“Huhn?” My eyes raced to him.

“This lawyer for your family. I’m sure you ain’t got the bank to pay for it, and you said this was a proposition. What do I get out of it?”

“Oh!” I licked my lips, preparing. “You don’t have to train me anymore.”

He choked on a laugh. “What?” And there was that glint of amusement in his eyes. Damn, he was beautiful when he wasn’t grimacing.

And sometimes when he did…

“We’ve been at it for a few days now. You’ve taught me enough to stay at it alone. I know you’re a busy man and have better things to do with your time—especially now that your grams make you go to bed at ten at night.” I snickered. Raj’s eyes narrowed, but one half of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Just kidding. Seriously, I don’t want to be a burden. We can take off the training wheels.”

“You think you learned enough about fitness in what…days?”

I shrugged. “Enough to get out of your hair for a few weeks, at least. If I have any questions, I can hit you up. Or Josh.”

With his regard in the navy blue sky, Raj shrugged with his lips and sat back in the chair. For a while he didn’t speak. I was too cold to sit through it as usual.

I stood to my feet. “I’m freezing and tired as hell,” I shared, grabbing my phone then rounding the small table. “I know it’s not the most compelling proposition, but it’s all I got. Think about it and let me know.”

He didn’t respond, and I wasn’t pricked when he didn’t. It was who my fake husband was. Weird, rude, and sexy as sin.  

“Now take the keys out and let the drum and bass stay,” I told Gary. He clicked a few switches and turned a knob. “A’ight. Now play it back.”

He did, and as the rhythmic vocals poured through, my phone lighting up at the lip of the mixing board caught my attention. I used my hand to slice my neck and Gary killed the volume.

“Yo,” I answered.

“What it do, buzzin?”

“Ain’t nothing, Young.” I sat back in my seat. “Whaddup with you?”

“Handling mine. Just got off a conference with the team. We ‘bout to do something epic.”

“L.I.T. Music? Word?”

“Been tryna tell ya ass to come over to the L.I.T. team,” he warned and I laughed at the double entendre.

I still wasn’t with the idea of leaving my current label only to be a slave for a new one.

“What y’all got going on over there?”

“I finally got Hunter with a boot camp idea.”

“Word? Tell me more.” I stretched back in my seat, rocking it.

“We snatching new, unsigned, and talented pens and producers across the globe—about fifteen of them—and throwing them into a L.I.T. University type of setup. We gone give them the tools and know-how of track making from concept to publishing. Those that finish the three-week program will be offered a deal with the label.”

“Exclusive?”

“Yup. Something like a two year. He got legal working it out. But the advantage is being taught for those three weeks by the top in the industry. They’ll spend time with our top writers, producers, and engineers, honing their skills. We even got a few of our artists wanting to contribute to the curriculum. I’m gonna cover production for a few days.”

“Word?” I smiled, teasing, “I could get three days under the tutelage of one Young Lord?”

“Fuck outta here, nigga.” Young laughed. I was teasing him, but Young had been ranking lately. He was now a L.I.T. executive, making boss moves. I was mad proud of him. “Nah, but for real. You know we just signed a few new artists, and shit. Even got a new male group. They gone be the new 112…Boyz II Men. Feel me on that. You heard of B City?”

“Yeah. The kids out of Newark.” Well, one was not. The lead singer, Teke, was from Cranford. I used to play the keys and guitar with his older brother, Sean.

“Oh, right. Lil Teke said he gone be the next Ragee.” He laughed at that. “Dude straight introduced himself like that when we met them last summer.”

Even though there was nothing foul about his humor, I didn’t find it funny. Teke was a talented singer and musician—he, too, played piano, guitar, and drums—but he had a jealous and arrogant aura to him. I was sure women in general thought he was a good looking kid, but dude sold his green eyes and light skin along with the gift of music. Sean would get into fights with him over the instruments they shared when I’d come over to practice with him and his crew. He was a damn cry baby, too. But that was over fifteen years ago. The kid was about fourteen or so then. I was happy to see him snatch a deal.

“When y’all kicking it off?”

“In a couple of months. We’re not tryna waste no time on this. The industry is primed for good music. This how we lock in talent. I was calling to see if you got anybody in mind to sign up. I know ya man, Leech, master your studio.”

“Oh, nah. Leech ain’t in production. Don’t even care to be. Nigga don’t even like people.” I laughed and Gary did, too, next to me without knowing why I said what I did.

“Got you. Anybody else? I just wanna get some names to pass over to the point person.”

I scratched my head as I considered that. Gary was my engineer and was eating good off our business, I knew he wouldn’t be interested. What Young was offering was a dope deal. It reminded me of Bad Boy back in the day when they had a team of writers and producers in their camp. Their artists didn’t have to leave the label for music. L.I.T. Music would have its own hit factory.

“Yeah. Wynter may be interested.”

“Who that?” he asked. “A new artist of yours?”

I chuckled. “Nah, man. Wynter. My wife!” It was more like a question, because the title was strange to roll from my tongue.

“Oh.” He mumbled. “Oh!” That must have been when recognition hit. “She in the industry?”

“Nah. Tryna be. Just need some coaching.” Shit… “Lots of coaching. I’ve been trying to figure out where to start with her. This sounds like something I can leave to y’all.”

Young was quiet for a minute.

“You good with that come up?” His tone was cautious. Lord remembered no one knew Wynter and I weren’t legit.

My eyes skirted over to Gary next to me on his phone. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to my conversation anymore.

“No sweat off my back.”

Young Lord got quiet again.

“I looked into her…before Christmas.”

I sat up to reach for my water bottle, keeping my tone and movements casual. I was anything but. Back then I couldn’t give a damn about my boy looking into Wynter because I played her at a distance. I sent over the contract she and Mike signed to my legal team, who confirmed it was legit, something Mike was pissed about. He’d had his lawyer draft it. But I didn’t trust Mike anymore, so I did what I had to do. Especially because the only thing Wynter countered in the contract was that I be tested for drugs and STDs. It was weird, but I made it happen. Getting tested for sexually transmitted diseases was something I was always game for and did on the regular.

But now that she’d been in my bed—and in my head—hearing the caution in his tone concerned me.

“You just now getting back to me?”

“That’s because she came up legit. She got family that run a little, but she legit like she said.”

My body went limp all over as I let out a silent breath. Even my damn eyes closed in relief. I had to quickly get myself together in front of Gary.

“That’s what’s up. I ‘preciate that.”

“I would say anytime, but…”

That cracked me the hell up. “I feel you, man. Look, get back to me when y’all ready to roll it out. This sounds like L.I.T. ‘bout to take over the world,” I joked.

“You be knowin’,” he sang. “One.”

“Later, man.”

When I hung up, I took a minute to think about things. I told Wynter I’d help her with her music, little weight loss goals, and now a lawyer to get her family out of a bind. It all sounded like the role of a husband. Out of nowhere, I fell back in my chair laughing.

“What up, killa?” Gary asked with one brow in the air.

When I could stop enough to speak, I hit him with, “Bitches be the set up…get wet up…

Let you nut up…then burn you the fuck up.

They seduce you with that shit…”

Without question, Gary continued.

“Stroke ya dick…then have they hands all up in ya pocket.

Shit, I know we all got our hustle and I ain’t tryna knock it.

But to the crack bitch, groupie bitch—and corny bitches, y’all be the same…

Stay the fuck out my hustle because, man, all y’all be fuckin’ lame.”

“Word.” I reached over and smacked his palm, giving him a dab.

“Young was a fool for that one,” he declared.

“My dude.” I turned back to the board. “Let’s get this wrapped up before six. Gotta standing dinner date with the fam.”

We slipped back into work right away, and I fought to get her out of my head. She’d been occupying too much room up there.

As two wicker flames lit in a jar…

My heart dances when you come to mind.

No. Not love or crush, by far...

Just some random ish that’s developed over time.

No.

I erased the last two lines, refusing to bring love or crushing into the equation. Didn’t make sense.

Similar to this poem...

“Ughhhhhhh!” croaked from the back of my throat as I grabbed my hair, pulling it by the roots.

I gotta get out of here…

Immediately, I pushed away from the laptop and desk in the second floor study, and jumped to my feet. I trekked over to the closed set of glass doors and gazed out at the endless rows of trees outlining the developed portion of the property, seeing how far it stretched beyond the house. Suddenly, I realized I had missed this view from when I stayed on this side of the house. I saw the pool, covered in blue square rows. The tennis and basketball courts were separated by changing shades of red, pink, yellow and orange roses climbing the vined gate. Almost out of my vista was a gazebo filled with ferns, flowers, and a stone fountain sat in the center. Three benches circled it.

I watched as the groundskeeper cleaned the fountain, removing leaves and other collected debris. Toward the right of him was a path leading out to an area Myisha didn’t include during the tour of this place. I recalled her saying there was a horse ranch on the property, but I didn’t see it that day.

I gulped in a heap of air then inspiration spun by pure boredom had me grabbing my phone. I made a dash out of the study and down one of the sets of curved staircases, to the back of the house for the coat closet. After what felt like traveling through a damn mall, I was out the door on the stone patio and down the stairs for one of the many paths leading to the rear of the property.

En route to the beaten—or unbeaten—path, the grounds guy caught me in his periphery and waved kindly, even tipped his wide brimmed hat. With a bright smile, I waved then pulled up the neck of my coat, already feeling a brisk wind pushing against me. I sauntered into more trees, then a beautifully aesthetic path of manicured flowerbeds then bushes. And then more trees.

I walked and walked, neck snapping at each sound of crackle I heard. There was nothing else better to do, I figured, so I kept going, and the house in a shrunken distance eventually neared. Not even that stopped me. Oddly, there was something about this pilgrimage that felt safe. Peaceful like each facet of the McKinnon estate. So, I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures for Instagram. This type of nature had to be shared.

More than my curiosity carried me, the wonder of controlled nature did also. It was clear to me with each step that Ragee paid a premium for maintenance on this place. I strolled and strolled and strolled, a good half mile, at least. Even when the path turned from pebbled to gray gravel, I kept going until the ground changed again, this time to a rich hue of soil…and that’s when I saw the winding wood rail fence leading to a…

Barn?

I hadn’t seen too many in person, but had enough in books and on TV to be able to identify one. This one was sleek. The barn seemed to be attached to a modest-sized ranch by a small extension, similar to the one in the main house connecting the recording studio suite. Both the ranch and the barn were made of black and burnt-orange wood—pretty contemporary. I stopped and glanced all around me. This had to still be Ragee’s property. Myisha said the house sat on about nineteen acres. The thing was, I had no idea if where I stood included that acreage count. But I had to get closer, so I continued this voyage to a pathway leading to the structure.

Once upon it, I heard a nicker. Of course, I would; I was at a damn barn. But what animal did it come from? I slipped my phone in the pocket of my coat to focus on the mystery at hand. As I continued, a whinny sounded. I met a window and decided to see what was inside.

“Shit!”

I leaped back, nearly falling on my ass. I clutched my chest, feeling my heart beat violently against the wall.

A horse. Like… A real ass horse was in there!

“You okay?” a man’s voice further startled me and I shrieked. “You okay?” he repeated.

He stood with a plaid wool jacket on and denim overalls with rugged boots. At first glance, I could tell he was a… Farmer?

No…

“Oh! It’s you!” he shrieked excitedly and followed it with a toddler style leap in the air. “You finally came to see me!”

What have I gotten my nosey ass into?

He started toward me with zealous eyes and I began to back away. In my horror, I couldn’t coordinate my brain and arm to grab my phone. No way was one of the grounds people going to “happen” to be all the way back here. At one point, either I had to haul ass or stay still and face whatever I’d stumbled upon. He clapped his hands and laughed with child-like innocence.

Run for your fucking life, Wynter!

“Hey, Wynter!” he stopped abruptly, expression falling as well as his arms in a graceless manner. In fact, I quickly realized he moved without an ounce of elegance or pride similar to a…kid.

“How do you know my name?” I demanded.

He scratched his head, smiling shyly as he peered over his shoulder, embarrassed. “Because you’re my sis-in-love!” At the sound of his words, he leaped in the air again and clapped.

Again, his movements lacked refinement. And that’s when it hit me.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Arnold Michaels, but friends and family get to call me Arnie.” Michaels… Michaels… Where do I know that last name from? He pointed to me with a high, bashful shoulder gesture. “You are my family.” A slow smile spread on his face.

It hit me.

Kevin. Kevin “Upper Cut” Michaels!

Then I thought what that meant.

Nooooooo…

The features in his face were familiar, and quite honestly, stunning. This man, who was clearly…different, resembled Ragee. Suddenly a flash memory of Pastor McKinnon hit me.

“That nice Earl made me oatmeal. Now, I’m going for a walk out back. Maybe see Arnie.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing to pull it together. Arnie was good looking as hell, built with masculine height and width. He was arguably better looking than Ragee. While Raj was desirable with his rugged sculpted features, Arnie here was a pretty version of him. Like…damn good looking. So much that it immediately felt wrong to admit it considering there was something developmentally off with him—clearly. Guys with features and a build like his at this point in their lives knew they were the shit. Had been told by enough thirsty women they were Man Crush Every Day worthy.

Arnie removed his hat, bringing it humbly to his chest, and his face grew long. He’d picked up on my hesitation. And I also noticed he was graying. This was an older man.

What the entire hell…

“How are you related to Ragee?”

“I’m his big brother!” he claimed proudly, even stuck his chest out.

Brother?

No one had ever mentioned a brother. Not my research nor Myisha. I had no idea Raj had siblings. I guess I hadn’t searched hard enough to learn everything there was to know about my husband. Either that or this was one of many things he didn’t want the world to know, including me.

“C’mon!” He skipped toward me before I could process that demand, taking me by the wrist, and pulled me along. “You gotta see the horsies! Gee-Gee said he was gonna bring you back here and he was right!”

Flopping behind him, we entered a small doorway into what had to be the smelliest environment I’d ever experienced. I tried holding my breath until I realized I needed to do it to live. But it was fascinating. Horses, big and small moving about the building.

“This is the McKinnon-Michaels stable!” Arnie turned to me and pointed to my sternum with the hand not being used to hold me near to him. “That means it’s yours, too, now because you married Gee-Gee. Look over here!” He pulled me behind him gracelessly, but without pain.

“Ummmm…” I croaked. “Arnie, how old are you?”

He stopped and faced me, his expression lit with delight. “I just had a birthday on January seventh. That made me fifty-one years young.” His smile was bright.

It took a minute, but I fixed my features to match his. “Oh, nice!”

What a coincidence…

“And let me show you what Gee-Gee bought me!” He tugged at my wrist again and we were on our way.

We headed back out the barn, but through the main set of doors held open by fancy stoppers. Arnie pulled me onto a cart of sorts, similar to what you’d see on a golf course.

“Hold onto the bars. Okay?” he ordered, more like shouted in the manner an instructor would a class.

Then he started the engine and we were off. The first accelerated push was rough, but Arnie let up on the gas enough to smooth it out. My mind continued to race with what exactly was going on. What had I gotten myself into? I felt like I’d stepped into an alternate secret universe the moment I stumbled upon this gorgeous horse stable. And Arnie…

Oh, my god!

The boyish menacing expression he made while zooming us down a path that defined the outside of the structure, an off-set of the main property, confirmed his condition. He hunched over the steering wheel and squinted his eyes with the tip of his tongue peeking from his lips. Arnie was concentrating on the task.

This is Ragee’s brother…

We came to a curt stop that was just as rough as our takeoff. That unbridled smile opened again on his handsome face and he stretched his arms wide—too wide for the little motor vehicle.

“Ta-da!” he shouted. “This is one of my birthday gifts. Gee-Gee promised me a cart to help me get around the property faster.” Wistfulness lined his gorgeous brown eyes.  

My eyes bulged and mouth dropped. Again. “Oh! This is…great,” I tried. “Really cool!”

“I know! Right? It zooms fast.” He turned and pointed to the left of him. “This is our dry lot. I make sure to keep up with it.”

I gazed at the large fenced-in area. “What’s a dry lot?”

“You don’t know what a dry lot is, Wynter McKinnon?” The fact astounded him. I shook my head with pinched lips. “It’s where the horsies go when it’s a little flooding or when they need to exercise.” He shrugged. “It’s their chill spot.”

I swallowed. “O—okay.”

Without warning, he hit the accelerator again and we were off until the next curt stop: a fenced, round enclosure at least six feet high.

“This here’s the bull pen. Gee-Gee likes to call it the round pen,” he shared before shouting to a woman leading a horse in the circular enclosure. “Hi, Mindy!” She’d already seen us and smiled in greeting. “I’m showing my sis-in-love around the McKinnon-Michaels horsie house!” He clapped, excited again.

“Cool thing, Arnie.” The short woman with a dark silky French braid running down her back tipped her hat. “Almost done with Roger here.”

“Okay!” Arnie trilled, and we were off again.

Arnie gave me a tour of the entire horse, or horsie property, as he’d called it. It wasn’t as big as the main structure where the big house was, but I reasoned it was just the perfect size for this man, who developmentally was no more than a child. I even met the six horses the McKinnon-Michaels family owned. I learned the names of them all, including their personality traits. There were about three other people on the property with Arnie, and although each one I’d seen had been busy with some form of work, I easily got the impression Arnie had the knowledge to care for the animals himself and took lead on most. But it was also clear he couldn’t do it alone. Arnie had limitations, mental ones keeping him from being totally independent.

We arrived back at the barn, and just when I thought he’d invite me to see his ranch styled home, I learned he wanted to continue his time with me in another way.

“Are you going to have dinner with me?” He bounced on his toes, rubbing his hands together. Before I could speak, he pushed, “Supper is on the way by the chef at the main house.” Arnie neared me, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You know he a lil different? He ain’t holy.” He waggled his brows, but not in a salacious way, though he was definitely implying something scandalous. Did Arnie understand Earl was gay? “Don’t worry. His food still good, though. Let’s go wash our hands—”

He was interrupted by the sight and sound of a shiny deep blue pickup truck pulling around the graveled driveway. I almost swallowed my tongue when the driver stepped out, looking as though he owned the place.

Because he did.

“Oh, Gee-Gee!” Arnie jumped up and down in his non-graceful form. “You kept your word. You brought my sis-in-love to see the ranch!” Then his face fell. “But you came late!” he growled.

Yeah, Arnie definitely had a problem with perception because he didn’t catch his brother’s face damn near blanch in mortal shock. Though frozen, I was immediately reminded of how similar his features were to those of his brother. Raj’s beauty was more rugged, but the muscles around his eyes and lips worked to make him more appealing. Arnie never used his, which was telling of his condition—whatever his condition was.

Arnie trekked over to the passenger side of the pickup and pulled out a large white shopping bag with a silhouette of Raj’s face on it. It was clearly a media bag for his business.

“Wynter,” Arnie called me as he headed toward the barn, “are you having supper with me? I have enough for you. And I have an extra chair in my office.” His steps choppy and not very coordinated, similar to a toddler’s.

But I didn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Not with Ragee glaring at me like he’d just caught me in his safe. I heard the door slam as my eyes were fixed on him. Finally, I could speak.

“Thanks for telling me you have a brother.” I swallowed nervously. Raj was always so serious. “I’ve been living here all this time and didn’t know I had a brother-in-law.”

…in-love, as Arnie declared.

Raj switched stances, his head angled just a little as his eyes narrowed. “That’s because this is his private nirvana. I had his dream environment built to keep him safe, happy, and protected from vultures.” He switched hips again. “The bullshit.”

“Well, lucky for you, I ain’t a vulture and not about the bullshit.”

His eyes roved down my body. “Really?”

“No. I’m not.” My tone was firmer. Nastier.

“Sister-in-love…” Arnie called from behind. “You going to have supper with me? That chef made a lot of food. There’s enough for us!” His child-like excitement thawed the steely resolve his little brother had just worked up in me.

“Nah, Arnie,” Raj answered then snorted. “Wynter don’t wanna eat with you. Just leave it alone.”

“Okay. Thank you for coming. Bye-bye!” Arnie shook it off and pit-pattered back into the barn.

“Who are you to speak for me?” I spat defensively. Raj cocked his head to the side, looking awfully handsome and I hated it. “Quite honestly, if he invited me to his dining room table and not near the awful smell of livestock, I’d take him up on his offer. I wouldn’t mind having dinner with Arnie. I actually think he’s cool and sweet.” My eyes rolled below. “He’s been more inviting and hospitable than the gatekeeper of this place.”

Super annoyed, I took off in the direction I happened upon this place.

“Hey!” He called after me.

With my back to him, I assured, “Don’t worry. I won’t be going to the media with the fact that you have a special needs brother. I’m still not that girl.”

“Nah.” His voice was so casual it had my steps falter. “I ain’t worried about that at all.” His tone wasn’t assuring, it was haughty, cavalier. I turned to face him. Raj shrugged. “I was just gonna remind you it’s getting dark out and offer to drive you back to the main house.” He tossed his chin to the sleek pickup. “By the time you get there on foot, it’s gonna be pitch black, and I don’t know all my neighbors yet.”

That justification was glib. Raj was being an ass again.

But that wasn’t enough for me to not heed his caution. I turned for the pickup.