Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Momma followed my gaze and grinned. “Ain’t that your pretend wife?”
“Momma, please.”
“Don’t please me. That girl is fine as a Sunday morning. Go over there and say hi. My money is on you. Don’t make me have to owe your Aunt Peaches a hundred dollars because I’m gonna get a nice, crisp bill from you. And yes, I gambled. First time in my life, I’ve already prayed about it too.”
Momma had passed over the entire issue. She and Aunt Peaches had made a bet.
But that didn’t matter because Madison approached us. “Ms. Babineaux, Mr. Bab—”
“Bébé.” Momma cut her off and tugged her into a hug. “You been acting mannish for long enough! Wash allows it; I don’t.”
“Sorry … I didn’t mean any disrespect, Momma Virginia.” Madison stepped back after the hug. “I have … this thing … with the soap. Gotta buy some lavender soap.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I, uh, love you, Momma Virginia. Bye, Wash.”
I stepped forward, and as she turned around to run, I strode with her. “Didn’t know avoiding my calls required a whole farmers market.”
She stopped, lowered her sunglasses, and scanned the crowd. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I was … abiding by the rules of your contract. You love law-abiding citizens, don’t you, Probation Papi?”
Her subsequent eye roll implied she’d reconsidered that title. I smiled at her. “I was waiting for your daily dose of teasing, but call me Probation Papi whenever, chère.”
She snatched her glasses off. That look said it all. Yep. She saw me as an unpaid bill. Eviction notice. All of that. Her eyes swung away and softened. “Momma Virginia, you gonna let your son harass me in broad daylight?”
“Wi, bébé.” Momma waved. “I raised him on cornbread and conviction. If he’s harassing you, it’s love.”
As I chuckled, the woman of my dreams backed away. Madison teased, “Enjoy hanging out with your momma!”
“I will. She’s my accountability partner.”
“For what, buying kale?”
“For not chasing you across this market.”
“Mm-hmm.” Madison’s smile fell a second later. Something seemed to capture her attention, and her eyes transformed into pure rage. As she reached for my chest, I grabbed her wrist. Madison gestured to my shirt. Damn, I knew what she saw. I allowed her to pull out the gold necklace I kept tucked inside my shirt. My wedding band dangled from the chain.
“Wh-why are you wearing this?” Her eyes narrowed. “I saw the necklace but wasn’t too sure I saw the band when we attended Gaston’s event, all matchy-matchy. But why? Why would you wear that?”
“Because I can, Madison,” I growled. It took me six months to remove my gold band. When I did, I still hadn’t gotten my vows outta my mind, so I slipped it around an old Cuban link chain I hadn’t worn in a while and placed it around my neck.
Madison shook her head. “You know what? Whatever. If you’re more confused than a pretzel and a game of Twister about our divorce, that’s on you.”
“Confused, huh? Confused?” Guess who was being manhandled now. I snatched her by the waist, my hands as tight as possible. Damn straight, I wanted to hurt her. Okay, maybe not that much, so I readjusted my hold. I glared into her eyes. “I still love you, Maddy.”
“Then why are you roughhousing me in front of your momma?”
I know it didn’t hurt her because she laughed as I glanced over my shoulder. Momma wasn’t looking. Good. That saved my ass.
Madison laughed again. “Gotta run, Mr. Baby No. Meeting someone at NOMA. Work thing. I may be able to pay you for the vandalism. Prorated since I did the first date, buh-bye!”
She what? Of course, I wanted my woman to make money and care for herself. But she couldn’t break my contract. Why hadn’t I thought about that? Make that thing so binding she’d have to pay me a billion dollars to break it because she’d signed it.
With a two-finger salute, Madison walked away with the last word, my dignity, and my damn heart.
Momma elbowed me after a moment. “Mô garçon, if you’re gonna stand there looking pitiful, at least do it with purpose. Broaden them shoulders.”
Too busy watching Madison, I barely heard her. My wife stopped at an art stall, and a man, glancing around, approached her wearing tight jeans and dingy-ass confidence. He hugged her as if he’d been waiting.
Work meeting, my ass! She was on a date. “Uh … Momma. These are getting too heavy,” I lied, lifting the tote bags while eyeing Maddy. “Lemme put them in the car. Be back in a minute.”
Madison and her date, some pale-looking brotha, not Omari Riche, strolled toward the New Orleans Museum of Art, located farther inside City Park. This woman was trying to take my life!
How was she dating multiple dudes and my closest relationship was a large oak tree? I was rubbing all up on the bark and everything as I worked my way around it to stalk her. Then I retraced my steps to the building’s side, all 007 meets Mission Impossible. I crept around the ionic pillars and glanced inside the museum. Damn, where were they? I cussed under my breath, did a full three sixty, and found Madison and her date standing on the farthest side of the fountain by the driveway, looking over the lake. Romantic ass.