Read Taking Chances for Free Online

“We’ve already cleaned this place within an inch of its life. The cooking won’t be too bad since your uncle and Crystal are bringing some stuff, as is Paul. What else is there?”
     
    Chloe turned off the water and sighed. “You’re right. It’s just that I get this way before every visit with my Mom. I always feel the need to show her just how in control I am. I want everything to be perfect.”
     
    “It will be.”
     
    Chloe’s mother had refused our offer to meet her at the airport with a taxi. She said it would be a waste of time and our money, and insisted on taking a taxi on her own. This actually worked out for the best because it gave us more time to get things ready.
     
    After I sliced the yams into circular pieces Chloe seasoned them with cinnamon and nutmeg, then placed them in a casserole dish before layering them with sugar, butter, and vanilla and putting them in the oven to bake.
     
    “My teeth hurt just looking at that.”
     
    “Oh, hush. Doesn’t your Mom make them like this?”
     
    “Kind of. She serves them with marshmallows on top.”
     
    “Really? That’s weird.” Chloe said as she shrugged her shoulders.
     
    “I’m sure she’ll have some made tomorrow. You can try it. I bet you’ll like it.” I noticed Chloe scrunched up her nose. “Listen,” I continued, “If I can try the collar greens, you can try the marshmallow yams.”
     
    “Collard,” Chloe laughed. “Collard greens. With a dee on the end.”
     
    I didn’t care if she laughed at my mistake, as long as it kept her mind off all the worrying she’d been doing.
     
    By noontime the apartment was overcome with the aroma of delicious food. Chloe’s collard greens were in a pot on the stove alongside the candied yams, garlic mashed potatoes, and a large pot roast. I’d already asked Chloe the week before if we’d be making a turkey and she shook her head emphatically: no. Uncle Troy would be bringing the turkey, his award-winning baked macaroni and cheese, and pumpkin pie. While I wiped down the countertops Chloe did one last peek at the completed dishes on the stove.
     
    “Between this, what everyone else is bringing, and tomorrow, I’m going to gain like fifteen pounds by Friday.”
     
    “And you’ll still be sexy as hell,” I replied. I tossed the dishtowel in the sink and pulled Chloe close for a kiss. She had the softest lips I’d ever felt. She hooked her fingers into the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me even closer. She let out a soft moan of pleasure that gave way to one of frustration. “We can’t. We don’t have time. She should be here soon and I still have to shower and change.”
     
    “You never heard of multitasking?” I asked, gently leading her to the bathroom and closing the door behind us. While I reached to turn on the shower, Chloe ran her hands under my shirt, lifted it, and began kissing my back. I groaned, turned, and put one hand on the back of her neck. I pulled her to me and our lips met—softly at first, but the kiss soon turned rough. That’s how it was whenever we started. It was as if we couldn’t get connected fast enough, hard enough. I was sure I’d memorized every inch of her body, every curve, yet every time we touched my hands and tongue probed like it was the first time.
     
    I stepped into the shower and held out my hand for Chloe to follow. She slipped her hand into mine and stepped inside. Placing my hands on her waist, I gently steered her backwards until she was underneath the shower’s spray. Chloe gasped.
     
    “Patrick!”
     
    “What’s wrong?”
     
    “My hair!”
     
    Now wet, her hair was a tangle of slick curls resting on the side of her face, neck and shoulders. “That’s what happens when you stand under the shower, your hair gets wet,” I said.
     
    Chloe smiled. “You have a lot to learn about black girls.”
     
    “Mmmm. Maybe so. I should probably get on that.”
     
    I knelt in front of her, kissing the inside of her thighs