The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs

Chapter Twenty-Six

Growingup in the upper echelons of Belizean society, Yolanda had learned table manners before her times tables.

Elbows should be tucked at the sides. A dessert fork and a dinner fork were different utensils. Each glass was uniquely formed to bring out the essence of a particular beverage. Silence or quiet classical music freed the palette and heightened the flavors of a dish.

Not so in the Marden household.

In fact, they didn’t give a damn about table manners or the right kind of dinner music.

Chaos reigned.

Children ran back and forth in a whirlwind of movement. Loud, reggaeton music rocked the house. Guests chattered in rapid-fire English, Spanish and Belizean Creole.

The table was about to crumple from all the disposable aluminum pans stacked on it. There was traditional Belizean rice and beans, barbecue chicken, Italian sausages, bread rolls, boiled corn, pibil and tamales. Lots and lots of tamales.

A loud guffaw came from the kitchen. Yolanda whirled around and was completely shocked to find it was her mother who made that sound.

Claire had her mother nursing a second glass of Bailey’s Colada. Jada’s skin glowed under the kitchen lights. Her lipstick had worn off long ago and her hair was frizzing into a lion’s mane, but her mother did not seem to care.

Yolanda couldn’t resist smiling. Honestly, she felt equally carefree. Something about this house, about this family, made her warm inside.

“Duane would kill me if he came back downstairs and saw you huddled in the corner like this.” Gio, Duane’s youngest brother, offered her a bottle of beer, which she accepted with a grateful smile.

“Where did he run off to?”

“To shower.” Gio arched dark eyebrows. “I think he has someone he wants to impress. Now, all of a sudden, he’s concerned about being around us smelling like sweaty socks.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

Gio’s brown eyes sparkled.

She found herself intrigued. Duane looked nothing like his younger brothers. They were tall, dark and handsome while Duane had blonde hair, silver eyes and pale skin. Of course, she thought he was ten times as handsome, but she could be biased.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Gio took a sip of his beer and then pointed at her. “How could a stinker like Duane be related to a star like me?”

“That was not what I was thinking at all.” She grinned.

“Sadly, he is one hundred percent my brother. We did the paternity test to prove it.”

“Duane did a paternity test?” Her eyes widened. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine the kind-looking Mr. Marden insisting on a paternity test. He seemed like the type who would love and care for anyone who needed it.

“No. We did the test. It was online and free.” He pulled a face. “And these weird ads kept popping up asking if we wanted to marry a Nigerian prince, but I’m sure it was accurate.”

She boomed out another laugh.

Gio clinked his beer against hers and sipped.

She drank a little too, although she was careful not to overdo. She did not want to black out in front of Duane’s entire family.

Gio let out a contented sigh. “Ah, that’s good.” Glancing around, he asked, “Where’s Theo?”

“Out back, running around with the others.” She laughed. “I thought he’d be tired from spending all day at the stadium. I’m surprised to see him so hyper.”

“These little kids. They’re like Energizer bunnies. They don’t sleep when the party’s in full swing.”

She tapped her nails against the glass. “Guess so.”

Gio went quiet.

Yolanda glanced over and found him studying her.

She leaned back. “What?”

“I’ve never seen my brother so happy.”

Her heart gave a little leap.

“I’m glad to see him love again. After the way his ex left him… let’s just say, you brought him back from the dead.” Despite his words, Gio’s face was absent of a smile.

Yolanda picked up on it. “Is something wrong?”

“Today, I saw something I never have before.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

“My brother treasures football like his own life. He doesn’t put anything over it.” Dark eyes swept over her face. “But today, he tore his own rules down. He went rogue to teach that Devon guy a lesson.”

Guilt tugged at her heart. “Yes.”

“My brother put you above football.”

She swallowed hard.

“The fact that he felt the need to punish someone with his talent tells me a whole lot more than that sneaky bastard ever will.” Gio gripped his beer tightly. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

Her heart quivered. “I think I do.”

“I don’t have a kid and I can’t imagine how tough it must be to raise one on your own, but then… you’re not really on your own, are you? Theo’s father is still hovering around in his life.”

“Yes.”

Gio’s eyes were the Caribbean Sea at night—a dark, stormy tempest. “I don’t want my brother getting hurt.”

“My past won’t hurt him.”

“No, but you can.”

His bluntness felt like a punch to the gut.

“Is Theo’s father going to be a problem?”

Her eyebrows fell low. “My past is a part of me. Theo’s father is a part of my life.”

“That’s understandable.” He pursed his lips. “But there are limits, right? To what Duane will have to put up with in order to make everyone comfortable?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t see why I have to have this conversation with you. It’s between me and Duane.”

“I’ll respect that.” Gio’s cheerful smile was back on his face, but he couldn’t fool her. Yolanda had seen the ferocious side of him that came out to play when his family was involved. “As long as you promise you won’t hurt my brother.”

Yolanda clamped her lips shut. She didn’t give any promises. Didn’t say that she’d protect Duane with her life or that she would rather die before she brought that sweet man pain.

How could she offer those words when she didn’t know if she could back them up?

Silence fell swiftly.

She wasn’t aware of it until Emmanuel strode toward them. Of the three brothers, he seemed the most quiet and the most lethal. His square jaw tightened, and his eyes were laser-focused on Gio.

“What are you doing?” Emmanuel asked tensely.

Gio’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Just having a conversation.”

Emmanuel stared at his brother like he was scanning his insides. Leaning forward, the handsome doctor said something in Gio’s ear. Gio’s stance went stock-still. Whatever Emmanuel was saying, it was only making him angrier.

After a beat, Emmanuel turned to her with a polite nod. “Yolanda, Duane’s been gone a while. Can you tell him to come down and eat?”

She hesitated. Her eyes darted to Gio who had turned away from Emmanuel and was guzzling his beer in frustration.

“Please?” Emmanuel arched his eyebrow slightly.

“Sure. Which room is he in?”

“Up the stairs, straight down the hall. His old room is the one at the end.”

Holding her head high, Yolanda strode away from the brothers, but each step caused anxiety and doubt to claw at her.

Maybe Gio has a point. Maybe Duane would be better off with a woman who didn’t come with so much baggage.

She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled shakily. Her fingers tightened on the railing and skated against the smooth wood.

How can a man who’s never had a child love someone else’s son? Won’t he see my ex every time he looks at Theo? What if he starts to hate him?

She swallowed hard and stopped in front of the door Emmanuel had given her directions to. Wrapping her fingers around the knob, she stepped in.

Duane was there, rubbing a towel through his blonde hair. The strands were clumped together and dripping water all over the floor. He was wearing jogging pants and nothing else.

Yolanda’s gaze greedily swept his chest. Swarthy skin. Defined pecs. Abs. More abs. Why were there so many muscles?

She waited three seconds before lifting her gaze to Duane’s, needing the time to pick her jaw off the floor and get her thoughts together.

When she met his stare, she was glad she’d taken the time to prepare. He was staring right back at her as if she hadn’t stained her shirt with nacho dip and the jalapeño poppers Clair had foisted on her. As if her hair wasn’t crazy and her jeans weren’t smudged with mud and rust.

“Yol,” he said a little breathlessly.

“Hi, Duane.” She lifted her fingers and shuffled to the side. “Sorry. I’ll come back when you’re dressed.”

Three steps and he was in front of her, slamming the door shut before she could walk through it. Heat wafted from his body. He smelled like soap and aftershave with just a hint of the football field mixed in.

My brother bent his own rules for you.

She glanced down. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she felt Duane’s attention drift over her face.

He pressed a little closer, his voice soft. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She fused as much joy into the word as she could. “Your family is awesome.”

“Is that why you ran up here? To tell me what a good time you were having?”

“Maybe?” The edge of her voice trembled and she tried to play it off by teasing him. “Or maybe I just wanted to catch you with your clothes off.”

“Oh? We’re going there?” His smile was charming.

She didn’t bother hiding her answering grin. Strangely, when she was with Duane, all the doubts in her head floated away. They’d come roaring back when she was alone again but, for now, she treasured the freedom.

Yolanda allowed herself another look at Duane’s body. The jogging pants hung low, revealing the sculpted lines of his hips and a teaser of a boxer brief hem.

She licked her lips. “Emmanuel said you should come down and eat.”

“If he wanted me to go downstairs,” Duane pressed in, “he shouldn’t have sent something so delicious right up to my room.”

Her heart pounded. “Are you talking about me?” Her voice was different, higher pitched.

“I guess I’m not making myself clear.” Duane’s eyes tangled with hers, a silver so bright it was almost blinding. “Let me show you…” He captured her face between his hands and kissed her cheek. “What I…” A kiss to her neck. “Mean.”

The heat from his palm sent a pulse of pleasure through her stomach. She turned her head toward him and lifted her face, silently begging for a kiss.

He traced the line of her lips with his thumb instead. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Duane.”

“Calling my name that desperately…” He nipped at her earlobe with his teeth, “will drive us both crazy. So why don’t you just—”

She leaped on top of him and planted her mouth on his, taking what she wanted. He stumbled back, his arms wrapping around hers to keep her pressed to him.

Yolanda sucked deeply from his mouth and pulled back to murmur, “You talk too much.”

He chuckled and, thankfully, let the matter drop to focus on more pleasant things. Like working and caressing her chest. Like squeezing her bottom and rubbing her body against him. Like kissing her back as if they would die tomorrow.

And oh, goodness it was fantastic. Parts of Yolanda that she didn’t realize had been waiting clenched, braced and fluttered in a completely new way.

Electricity zipped between her thighs. She eagerly wrapped her legs around Duane’s waist in order to position herself a little closer to where she needed to be.

He stumbled back and they both dropped on the bed, their lips connected despite the jarring tumble. She climbed on top of him, desperate to chase the doubts telling her that she was no good for him and there was no way he would stay.