Marketta took a deep breath, and then another, and Von knew she was biting back her initial response. Finally, she said, “Von, honey, don’t you think you’re moving kind of fast. I’m all for you getting rid of asshole, don’t get me wrong, but what do you really know about this man other than he’s fine as hell and can obviously lay it down between the sheets?”
Von rose and began to pace her living room. “I didn’t say yes. I know it’s too soon, despite how I feel about him.”
“And just how do you feel about him?”
Von sighed. “I love him. Really, truly and deeply love him. You were right. I cared about Derrick and maybe even loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him.” She paused by a window and looked out at the woods while she considered her words. “I thought at first maybe it was the sex. You know, the intimacy and novelty of it.” Not that she’d tell Marketta, but Sean had told her about Lycan pheromones and shared his concern that they might be affecting her emotions toward him. His honesty had only made her love him more.
“But it’s not the sex,” she continued. “Sean sees me and he likes what he sees. He listens to what I have to say and cares about how I feel. He’s not trying to change me or mold me into his perfect woman,” she finished with a hint of sarcasm.
“I’m glad you finally realize that’s what D was doing,” Marketta said, sounding relieved.
“Yeah, me too. You know he came here this morning, said he was willing to forgive me for Sean and offered to take me back. No apologies for hitting me. He acted like I made him do it.”
“You’re shitting me. That bastard! I knew I should have followed my first instinct and put a cap in his ass. You didn’t agree, did you? Honey, tell me you told D where to shove it!”
Von rubbed her face. “No, I didn’t go along with it. For once I told him how I really felt, about everything. The sad thing is, if he would have gotten to me last night before Sean, I might have fallen for it and agreed with him.” And didn’t that make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside? She was so disgusted with herself and how weak she’d been where Derrick was concerned.
“Then I’m glad I let Sean into the apartment. Someone needed to open your eyes.”
“You were doing a good job of it. It’s just that Derrick had become a habit.” Von shrugged. “You know how hard habits are to break.”
“Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. You aren’t the first woman to stay in a bad relationship because it was comfortable. Change is hard, even when it’s good for us. Then you had all that other baggage,” Marketta stated.
“You were right about that, too. I’m not my momma and I need to stop making decisions based on her.”
“It’s about damn time you realized that!”
Von laughed a little at her cousin’s enthusiasm.
“So, what are you going to do about the hunk?”
“Sean has two months’ leave and says he’s planning on spending it here, with me. We’ll take our time, do couple’s stuff, and see what happens. Marketta, he’s serious about that marriage proposal. If I’d let him, he’d marry me today. He’s up for re-enlistment and said he’d leave the decision up to me. He’s willing to get out and move here, if that’s what I want.”
“With the economy the way it is, he’d better stay his ass in the military.” Marketta paused, then asked, “Would you really go with him?”
“I might. It’s not like I’d have a problem finding work. I’d miss you and the rest of the family but Sean...he just does it for me. I can’t explain,” she finished lamely.
“I can. You’re in love. The real deal. When Derrick was enlisted, you never mentioned joining him. You never even thought about going to visit him the few times he was stateside.”
Von went back to the couch and sat. “Back then I was busy with school and didn’t have any money. And I was scared to leave momma, scared of what would happen to her if I wasn’t around to check on her.”
“Honey, if he really wanted you with him, he’d have paid for you to come, and your momma’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself. She’s not your responsibility.”
“I know that, now.” Not comfortable talking about Derrick, Von changed the subject. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Me? Nothing.”
“Why don’t you come over? Sean went to the base to get some stuff. Then he’s picking up some movies and Chinese food on his way back. He likes you.”
“Yeah? Still? After last night?”
Von hesitated. “Last night? What did you do?”
“Oh, nothing much.”
She groaned. “Marketta, knowing you—” Someone bammed on the front door.
“Is that your door?”
“Yeah. They must have the wrong apartment. So, you coming over?” she asked as she walked to the door.
“Yes, I’m coming. Who can turn down Chinese? Make sure he gets Sweet and Sour Chicken. You know I love that stuff.”
“Damn,” Von cursed in a low voice and jumped away from the door.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Pastor Wilkins,” she whispered.
“So don’t open the door. Act like you’re not home.”
“My car’s out front.” She winced as he hammered on the door again. “I don’t think he’ll go away.”
“Vondalyn! Open the door, child!”
“Vondalyn? That’s not your name,” Marketta said.
Von sighed and rolled her head on her shoulders to ease the tension. “I know. He knows, but he insists on calling me that.”
“Now I see where asshole gets it from. It’s genetic.”
Pastor Wilkins pounded on the door again.
“Look, I gotta go. Might as well get this over with.”
“Okay. I’m on my way. Later.”
“Later,” she echoed. She disconnected and in a loud voice, called out, “Just a minute.”
Von rushed into the room and grabbed a scrunchie, quickly pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. She shut the bedroom door behind her and on her way to the door, straightened the pillows on the couch. Spotting her torn underwear on the floor, she scooped them up and shoved them under a sofa pillow. Then hurried to the door.
She took a deep calming breath, wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, then cracked open the door. “Pastor, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Let me in, child. Don’t keep me out on the stoop.”
Very aware of her braless state, she said, “I’m not dressed for company.”
“When a pastor drops in on his parishioners, he’s not expecting them to be perfectly put together,” he said gently.
Von reluctantly stepped aside and allowed him to enter her apartment. Derrick Senior looked nothing like his son. Whereas Derrick Junior was lean and slender, Derrick Senior was built along the lines of a football player. Even though he was in his mid-fifties, he still worked out and kept in shape. There was no flab on this man, no beer gut, just two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. His head was bald and face grave, his expression, like now, usually set in stern lines. By comparison, Derrick Junior was small, almost delicate looking. Von had decided years ago the son must take after his mother.
She shut the door, but left it unlocked, hoping this would be a quick visit. Even after years of knowing him, Von still felt uncomfortable in his presence. “Would you care for some refreshment?”
“No, don’t put yourself to any trouble.” When she turned, he got a good look at her face. “Did my son do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Care to tell me what happened?”
“No, sir.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I see. May I have a seat?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, please.” She gestured toward the seating arrangement in the living room.