Ameer (The Brothers Ali Book 5) Page 13

  “Good evening,” Ameer smiled when he was greeted by the mommy-son duo. His eyes were immediately drawn to Siobhan. She was as beautiful as she’d ever been. There was a moment of adult connection, above what Messiah was able to physically see or mentally understand.

  “Hey, Mr. Ameer,” Messiah grinned.

  “Great PJ’s, Messiah,” Ameer smiled. The two exchanged a brotherly dap before Messiah bolted from the door towards his bedroom. “I’m going to get my project,” he blurted out on the way out of the foyer. That gave Ameer and Siobhan an opportunity to greet each other properly.

  “Hi,” Ameer smiled, his obsidian eyes finding her clandestinely, his voice matching the intensity of his gaze. It was compelling and coercing, drawing Siobhan into him in the quickness of that embezzled moment.

  “Hi,” Siobhan hummed, her delight ringing warmly in her voice. She was glad to see him despite her earlier reservations.

  Ameer’s fingertips lightly traveled the length of her down to her hand, his fingers seeking relation with hers. Siobhan’s skin quivered from his touch, tautingly as his eyes enraptured hers. Ameer knew instinctively that he only had a moment to reach her, to commune with her in the way his heart desired most. He took full advantage of that moment. Ameer’s eyes roamed the exquisiteness of her face and then focused exclusively on Siobhan’s lips. Her calm was shattered with the hunger of Ameer’s kiss. Although hungry, his kiss was thoughtful, slow, methodical, penetrating, mesmerizing. New, unexpected spirals of ecstasy coursed through her, leaving her breathless as their lips parted.

  “Mr. Ameer! Mr. Ameer! Come see my project!”

  “Here I come, man,” Ammer replied without for one second taking his eyes of Siobhan, leaving her with a lingering smile that imprinted on her heart. When he passed her, she inhaled deeply, soaking in the complexity and delectability of his masculine essence. It struck Siobhan like a wave, an intoxicant that obliged her to bask in his aura as frequently as she could. She stayed behind long enough to lock the door. When she entered the family room, Messiah was on his knees in front of the coffee table explaining his project. He was so excited. Ameer was genuinely interested as he sat down on the floor right next to him. They were in their element, one engineer and one budding engineer exchanging commentary about a subject they had in common. The moment struck Siobhan hard. She had been so concerned, so wary of allowing a man into her home, into her son’s life. Yet, seeing them together, communicating so effortlessly, confirmed that she’d made the right choice.

  Messiah wasn’t the kind of child that easily warmed to people. He was cautious. If there was something unsettling about that person, Messiah withdrew from them. He was like her walking, talking sixth sense, her early warning signal. But there was no apprehension in the way he communicated with Ameer. They were physically close, connecting physically, and that wasn’t something Messiah ordinarily did. Even if he liked a person, it took him a while to warm up. It wasn’t like that at all with Ameer. He seemed to sense the goodness in him, the same goodness Siobhan immediately saw.

  She didn’t want to interfere with their exchange, quietly entering the family room and sitting on the couch on the other side of Ameer so they could continue to talk without her being in the middle.

  “I ordered the food,” he said, stealing a second away from his conversation with Messiah. It will be here shortly.”

  He found a way to stay connected with Siobhan, although most of his attention was on Messiah; doing it in such a way that Messiah didn’t see and Siobhan wasn’t made to feel uncomfortable in front of her son. It was a slight touch, a caress, a point of contact between his hand and her leg. It was constant, gentle, intentional, unwavering, intimate. Yet, the mere touch of his hand sent warming shivers through her core.

  Eventually, Siobhan joined the conversation about Messiah’s project.

  “That’s really good, son.”

  “Thanks, mommy,” Messiah replied.

  She was so proud of him because he was proud of himself. And when Ameer asked if he could make a suggestion to take the project to the next level, Messiah was all in. He paid attention, hanging on Ameer’s every word, watching how he moved the pieces of the project, and explaining how everything worked together.

  “Messiah, you have done an excellent job,” Ameer smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

  After Messiah returned the project to his room, the food arrived.

  “Who’s ready for movie night?” Siobhan beamed.

  “Me! Me!” Messiah said excitedly.

  “Alright, Messiah, what movie are we going to watch,” Ameer asked.

  The two gentlemen went through their movie choices while Siobhan set up dinner on the coffee table.

  “Can I help?” Ameer offered, starting to get up.

  “I’ve got it,” Siobhan replied. “But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Always,” Ameer crooned.

  Siobhan went about the business of making sure they had everything they needed for the night’s festivities.

  “Mr. Ali,” she said, sliding her hand to her hip.

  “Yes?” His response was mischievous, and Ameer knew he was busted.

  “What’s this extra box, sir?”

  “Let me see,” Messiah said, interested in what was going on. He knew that tone. His mom used that tone with him when he was being sneaky.

  “Not yet,” Siobhan cautioned.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Ameer feigned innocence. “I thought it might be nice for after dinner if that’s okay with you, mom.”

  “He called you mom, mommy,” Messiah giggled.

  “Funny right,” Siobhan playfully fussed. She cut her eyes in Ameer’s direction. The wink he sent back and the flicker of a smile that rose at the edges of his perfect lips dulled the pulse of her fussing. She couldn’t hold the fake scowl on her face any longer, relinquishing the look, her face brightening with a smile because of the power of his.

  “Can I see now?” Messiah asked, lifting onto his tiptoes, trying to peek into the box.

  Siobhan acquiesced, lowering the box and lifting the top so her son could see.

  “Chocolate chip cookies! Those are my favorite,” Messiah cheered.

  “Not before dinner, Messiah,” Siobhan warned.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We should thank Mr. Ameer for bringing dessert,” she suggested.

  “Thanks, Mr. Ameer,” Messiah said, running back to where Ameer sat, giving him a spontaneous hug around the neck.

  Siobhan thought her heart would melt out of her chest. Almost immediately, her heart swelled, and her eyes misted over with tears. She had to catch herself, and she did but not before Ameer’s eyes found hers.

  “Messiah, go wash your hands so we can eat.”

  She didn’t have to say it twice. Messiah happily went down the hallway to the bathroom to wash his hands. Ameer lifted himself from the floor and strolled over to where Siobhan stood.

  “Don’t cry,” he soothed, lifting his hand to her cheek, gently cradling her face. The touch of his hand was suddenly almost unbearable in just how tender it was. Siobhan leaned against his touch, fully feeling his tenderness.

  “I can’t help it,” she admitted. “He likes you. He doesn’t act that way with most people.”

  The single tear that teetered on the edge of her thick lashes stole down her cheek. Ameer didn’t hesitate, leaning in and kissing that tear away, tasting the saltiness of her tear and the sweetness of her skin simultaneously. Siobhan noticed when he slowly folded his lips in, releasing them even slower, tasting her for as long as he could, revisiting the dichotomy of her flavor for as long as he could. Siobhan’s skin prickled pleasurably. Although it would be easy not to tear her attention away from Ameer, Siobhan knew it was necessary.

  “We should probably go get cleaned up, too,” she quietly suggested, avoiding lifting her eyes to meet his. That would be too dangerous of a move. He weaved a tangled web of desire with the titillating ingress of h
is gaze.

  “I’ll follow your lead,” Ameer lulled, his voice throbbing musically in her ear.

  Cognitively aware of his eyes on her, Siobhan strutted to the kitchen. Ameer was instantly entranced by her curvy and regal figure and the sway of her fine hips. By the time they made it to the kitchen sink, the carnal tension that existed between them made it difficult to draw in a full breath. When Siobhan felt the length of Ameer’s beautifully proportioned body against hers, she struggled to take the next one.

  Ameer reached around her, turning on the water. She felt the brush of his arms against her, exuded masculinity virily enveloping her. The added press of his strength against her caused Siobhan to inhale sharply. She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear as their hands comingled under the warm water, touching and retouching each other’s, experiencing each other palpably. Siobhan dared to reach for the soap, adding it to her hands. Their fingers danced, intermingling, joining, nimbly caressing the hand of the other. Siobhan’s heart stumbled before finding its rhythm again. Ameer’s heart had no choice but to respond, thumping hard and steadily against his chest. That thread of relation thickening, binding them closer together, heart to heart and soul to soul. It was kindred transcendentally like they knew each other in a previous life, now becoming reacquainted with what was profoundly right for them.

  “Ameer,” Siobhan swooned.

  “I can’t help it,” he admitted.

  She couldn’t either, but they had to. It was necessary. Siobhan reached up and turned off the water but not before Ameer placed a claiming hand on top of hers and pushed the knob down with her. The drying towel was close. Siobhan reached for it, bending slightly, causing a new press between their bodies, the lines of her body enticing Ameer’s senses in every way. If he didn’t pull back, it would be too hard, his animalistic instinct trying to take over. Gracefully, Siobhan straightened her sexy back and then, with a deliberately casual move that defied how her body felt, she turned and faced him. She took the drying towel, lifting Ameer’s large hands one at a time, wiping the wetness from them, their eyes locked into an intentional gaze. When she was done, Ameer did the same for her, taking the towel and drying Siobhan’s delicate hands.

  The spell was momentarily broken by the pitter-patter of Messiah’s feet behind them.

  “My hands are clean, mom,” he announced.

  “Ours, too,” Siobhan said, stepping out from the long shadow Ameer cast.

  The trio walked into the family room, choosing to sit on the carpeted floor around the coffee table where the food was spread out.

  “Messiah, will you say grace?” His mother asked.

  “Let’s hold hands,” Messiah suggested, reaching out to his mom and Ameer. “We gotta bow our heads and close our eyes,” he continued.

  The adults did as the young man suggested.

  “Lord, bless this food we are now about to receive for the nourishment of our bodies, amen.”

  “Amen,” Ameer and Siobhan said in agreement.

  The trio had easy conversation while they ate dinner. There was lots of laughter, and Siobhan found herself feeling at ease with the three communing together.

  “Can I have dessert now?” Messiah asked.

  “Did you all decide on a movie?” Siobhan asked

  “Yes,” Messiah nodded. “Transformers 2!”

  “Great choice,” she agreed. “I think we should sit on the couch for the movie, though. What do you think?”

  “That’s good,” Messiah agreed. “Mr. Ameer, can you sit in the middle?”

  “Why is that?” Siobhan interjected.

  “So he can sit next to both of us at the same time,” Messiah explained.

  Siobhan shook her head. Messiah’s explanation was perfectly sensible and absolutely sweet.

  “I certainly will,” Ameer agreed.

  Everybody pitched in and got the table cleared before returning to the family room with napkins and the box of chocolate chip cookies. Ameer was asked to sit down first by Messiah, who then climbed up on the couch and sat next to him. Siobhan took her place on the other side. Ameer stretched his arms across the back of the couch, protectively cradling them under his covering. Halfway through the movie, Messiah settled in, resting against Ameer. Seeing her son so free, so comfortable, Siobhan knew she’d made the right choice about Ameer. She found herself getting comfortable as well, settling in and resting against the strength of the man who was stealing her heart bit by bit. She allowed herself to give in to that feeling of no longer needing to fight what her heart spoke so loudly, drowning out the noise in her head. Ameer was present, a real man, and because he was, Siobhan was able to rest. That’s what a real man does for a woman, give her rest. By the time the movie was over, Messiah was fast asleep.

  “Ah, he didn’t even eat his cookie,” Siobhan smiled at her resting child.

  “He’s sleeping so good, I don’t want to move.”

  “He doesn’t wake easily,” Siobhan chuckled.

  “Should we put him in his bed?” Ameer asked.

  “If you don’t mind,” Siobhan replied.

  “I would love to,” Ameer reassured.

  Siobhan eased up from leaning on Ameer and then lifted to her feet, giving Ameer room to ease from under Messiah, without waking him. Smoothly and effortlessly, Ameer lifted her son into his arms before standing to his feet. He cradled Messiah in his arms like he sincerely and authentically cared about him. Siobhan didn’t miss how tender Ameer was with her son, as she led him down the hall towards Messiah’s bedroom. When they got there, Siobhan pulled Messiah’s covers back and then stepped aside so Ameer could lay him down. He never fully stirred but adjusted himself in the bed once he was lying down. As she did every night, Siobhan tucked her son in and turned on his night light. Before they exited, she leaned over and kissed her baby sweetly on the forehead. She stood there for just a moment, grateful for Messiah. He was such a gift to her.

  The gentle and fluid motion of her hand as she reached out to him, arrested Ameer’s eye and his response as he captured her hand in his. Siobhan led Ameer down the hall, her steps hesitating as she approached her bedroom door. It would be so easy to lose all inhibitions, abandon reservations and doubt and respond to the call Ameer placed on her heart, the drive he created in her body, awakening feelings that had long since been abandoned. He activated a cacophonous urge in her spirit that Siobhan knew only Ameer could quench. He noticed the halt in Siobhan’s steps. For Ameer, it would be easy, too, giving in to the feeling. But when she continued down the hall, Ameer was good with that. A woman as unique and as precious as Siobhan, he didn’t want to lose by rushing her to a place she might not be quite ready to go. They’d already jumped a considerable hurdle that evening. There was nothing more Ameer needed from the evening.

  “Best date ever,” he smiled an easy smile at the door.

  “For me, too,” Siobhan hummed.

  “I’m not sure how we’re going to top this one,” Ameer continued, stepping forward and clasping her body to his, her soft curves molding to the contours of his athletic form.

  “I’m willing to see if we can,” Siobhan admitted.

  “That’s all I need to hear, beautiful.”

  Ameer kissed her with his eyes before he leaned in and kissed her with his lips. Siobhan felt the heady sensation of Ameer’s lips on hers, kissing her persuasively, more than she cared to admit. Her own eager response belied her resistance that started to fade. Ameer’s kiss sang through Siobhan’s veins, and his last words of good night were smothered on her lips.

  Chapter Twenty

  After their first family date, hanging out as a trio became a regular occurrence. Messiah was excited every time Siobhan told her they would be seeing Ameer. She was excited, too. Ameer made all of that easy.

  “What do you think about going out together after the meeting,” Ameer suggested as Engineers on the Rise was wrapping up for the evening.

  It was a school night, but it was Friday, so Siobhan didn�
��t have any reservations.

  “What did you have in mind?” She asked, as they tried to speak discreetly. Still, Siobhan couldn’t hide a smile that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on her face because of Ameer.

  “I was thinking some golf, some dinner,” he suggested. “What do you think?”

  “That could be fun,” Siobhan agreed. “But I know very little about playing golf. I can tell you the fundamentals of the game, but actual experience playing, I have little.”

  “That’s fine, beloved. I’ll teach you.”

  “I bet you could,” she flirted.

  When the meeting adjourned, the trio exited the building together.

  “Messiah, what do you think about hanging out for a little while?” Ameer asked.

  “Awesome!” Messiah sounded.

  “Cool.”

  As they approached the door, Messiah was the one who held it open so his mother could exit first. He even held the door for Ameer.

  “Thanks, young king,” Ameer smiled, placing a hand on Messiah’s shoulder as they walked collectively towards Ameer’s truck. Once they were some distance from the door, Siobhan was much more comfortable with holding Ameer’s hand. She had been tenuous about displaying any affection in front of her son, but the more they grew to know each other and the more secure she felt in her relationship with Ameer, the easier displays of affection were. Her hesitation around the school was not because of Messiah. Ameer was a public figure, and his relationship with the school was professional. Siobhan didn’t want to do anything to compromise that with personal business.

  He'd stayed away as long as he could, Siobhan’s last words ringing true in his head. The truth was often painful, and being reminded that he had not been a father to his son was the most painful reminder next to seeing his son. He was the spitting image of Safiya. When Tyrese saw Messiah, he saw his wife. That was the most tormenting reminder of it all. Up until this point, Tyrese had been unable to resolve his sorrow and step up for his son. In those moments when he thought he had worked past some of his grief and thus able to step up and be what Messiah needed, the sight of the child crippled him. Tyrese was thrown back into the downward spiral of sadness all over again. He felt responsible for Safiya’s death. He wanted a child as much as she did, and they pursued that goal together. He was culpable because the birth of their son was the reason Safiya lost her life. Survivors' guilt was debilitating, and he had that guilt in spades.