Page 75 of Widow Mayker

Standing, I took her hand. “I wanna show you something.” I led her to one of my spare bedrooms, where I revealed the cache of gifts I had for her.

She dropped my hand and gasped loudly.

“I’ve been waiting to show you this since you got here,” I said.

From racks of designer dresses and outfits to boxes of designer shoes to several designer purses and multiple pieces of jewelry, it looked like a boutique inside the room.

“Are you crazy?” she expressed, astonished. She crept towards the bed and zeroed in on a pair of heels that weren’t even in stores yet. My mama loved attending fashion shows, and sometimes, she’d send me pictures of items she wanted. When I saw the heels, I knew I had to have them for Shyah.

“These are stunning,” she stated.

“They will look great on you.”

She nodded, retraced her steps, and placed a kiss on my lips.

“This is really too much.”

“No, it isn’t. Now, open what you can while we wait for my mama to finish dinner. We can shower and change after dinner.”

“Okay,” she replied and went back to her gifts.

Smiling contently, I leaned against the chest of drawers and observed her many expressions of surprise as she went from gift to gift. This was just the beginning.

***

Over dinner, I was cool with Shyah and my mama carrying on again. They hit it off, and after I got my mind right, I saw how serious this shit was. My mama dated since my father died, but nothing serious to the point where it led her down the aisle. As a man, I wanted someone to come along and sweep her off her feet, respectfully so. As her son, I watched every nigga, observed their intentions, and quickly squashed any connection that I felt wasn’t right for my mama. She was a fifty-year-old woman walking around looking beautiful as fuck, but she was so much more than that. My mama was a force, a partner, someone who would have any nigga’s back and hold that same nigga down, good or bad.

My thoughts shifted to Shyah, who hung on every word my mama said. Although so fucking innocent, I knew I had a rider in Shyah. She didn’t play about her family, and one day, I hoped to hold a place in her heart.

After dinner, my mama hugged us, then left but not without telling me to be on my best behavior. I was going to take heed for the simple fact that I wanted Shyah to feel comfortable here and come back in the future.

“Can I have that shower now?” she questioned.

Smiling, I replied, “Sure.”

I showed her around the rest of the house, then led her back upstairs to my room, where I showed her around and to the bathroom. I’d already brought her duffle bags inside, and they were tucked inside the walk-in closet. While she picked out what she wanted to wear, I started the shower for her. Once I was done, I turned around to find her standing there in a body towel. I nearly swallowed my tongue.

“Talk to me while I shower,” she said.

A nigga sat his ass on the countertop so fast, I about broke my legs getting there. She giggled and traipsed her sexy ass to the all-glass encased shower. Her towel came off, and she tossed it at me. Eyes wide, I only got a glimpse of her naked body before she shrouded herself in the enclosed shower.

“So, what does a trust fund baby get out of joining the law?” she asked. She couldn’t see my face, but I scoffed.

“Who said I was a trust fund baby?”

She cracked up. “Well?”

“My mama hasn’t always been a movie star, baby. She and my father weren’t exactly upstanding citizens. They had a whole crew and everything.”

“Oh, wow! I’ve never heard anything about her.”

Chuckling, I said, “That’s not the type of information anyone wants to splash all over the news.”

She giggled. “True.”

I licked my lips and tried hard to make out her body behind that damn fogged glass. Peeks of her dark brown skin teased me, and she knew that shit. My dick agreed, stirring behind the fly of my joggers. I adjusted him and winced when he grew some more.

“You okay?” Shyah questioned. “Sounds like you’re talking to yourself.”