When Love Just Happens: Episode 2 – Malcolm

MALCOLM

I spritzed the air with my cologne and walked into the falling mist, running my hands down my slim-fit dress shirt when done.

Another glance in the mirror had me reaching for my tube of body butter, squeezing the waterless formula into my palm, and running my hand down my trimmed beard, inhaling the Ugandan vanilla and Ethiopian honey scents mixed in the shea butter.

I examined myself in the mirror once more, smirking at my reflection. Not at what I saw—although, yeah, I looked damn good—but in anticipation of what was to come tonight.

Manhattan glittered behind my mirrored dresser with the backdrop of the sunset over the shoulders of skyscrapers.

Tonight was the night.

My meetup with Esme Bennett.

I’d been thinking about it for the past two days since setting up a time to meet in Hoboken, New Jersey, at her favorite spot—according to her.

I was about to drive through a tunnel for this woman. That’s how caught up I was.

This was the second summer Esme would be tutoring my son, Mason.

Last summer, when I came across her profile on a tutor search website, her picture was what got me. And then, when we spoke over the phone, her voice just added to the appeal. Like those eyes she wore in her profile picture, her voice was equally as sensual, without even trying.

I tried to resist, though. Passed over her profile three times because of my instant attraction. I was searching for a tutor for my son, not a date. So the three times I revisited her profile, only interested in her photo and not her resume, I purposely went searching and interviewing other candidates. I had a bad habit of falling for a woman’s femininity before checking her character in the past. Did it so much, it got me into a situation that led to one of the biggest heartbreaks of my life. Sure, my son—who I love with everything in me—came from that heartbreak, but I swore I wouldn’t let myself be led by my dick again.

But no matter how many people I contacted and interviewed, I couldn’t get her out of my head. So I caved. I requested an interview and, damn, I found out Esme was more than just a pretty face. She was smart, professional, and—thank God—she was damn good at her job. Great, actually.

After she told me she taught at an elementary school in Brooklyn during the school year, I knew she’d be a great fit for Mason.

And she had been. Until the end of last summer—and again, when tutoring started back up last week.

Toward the end of last summer, my divorce from my ex-wife was finalized, and there was a noticeable change in Mason.

I’d hoped it wouldn’t show outside our home, but it had—especially in the way he acted with Esme.

I’d tried apologizing for his behavior, but those apologies started to feel more uncomfortable—especially given the reason behind Mason’s attitude.

From the first time we video-called Esme, the night before she was set to start tutoring Mason, she’d taken my breath away.

Her clear brown skin glowed. And when she smiled… God, it was like a light beaming, slanting her eyes and raising her cheeks in a way that just melted me. I had to remind myself not to stare.

We’d never met in person, though. Hence my difficulty in containing my excitement tonight.

I took one last glance in the mirror before heading out. Mason was spending the night at his mother’s house. The house that used to be ours.

The house I bought and renovated with my own hands—with help from family and friends—to make it a home. That home was supposed to be forever, but that all changed when my wife stepped out of our marriage.

I’d told Mason to get dressed when I stepped into my room to change. His mother should’ve been waiting for him downstairs by the curb. Key word: should’ve.

Because when I left my room, turning off the lights as I went, I heard my ex-wife’s voice coming from the kitchen.

I sucked my teeth and shut my eyes for a second before making my way to the kitchen.

This was not what we’d agreed on.

“There you are,” she said once she saw me.

Mason sat on the stool beside her, eating the last of the dinner I’d made earlier.

“Candace,” I started. “I thought we had an understanding.”

“You look nice.”

“I told you Mason could meet you downstairs when it’s your night to take him,” I added, ignoring her comment. “And I also told you not to use the key you made without my consent.”

“My son spends time here,” she reasoned, “so it’s only right I have a key.”

I clenched my jaw and then forced myself to release the tension. “You’re gonna make me change the locks again.”

She shrugged. “And I’m just going to make another key, so why go through the trouble?”

I shook my head.

“We said we’d keep things the same for Mason,” she said, running her hand down his low-cut Caesar.

My eyes went to Mason, and I forced my shoulders to relax.

We’d spent a year arguing in front of him, and I hated that. What happened between Candace and me had nothing to do with Mason, and he didn’t need to witness us going at it.

“You look like you’re going on a date,” she said, her brown eyes raking over me from where she sat. “Are you going on a date, Malcolm?”

“I have a meeting,” I replied, palming my keys and wallet and dropping them into my pocket.

“Breaking out the good cologne for a meeting?” she pressed. “Who are you meeting at this hour?”

“None of your business.” I crossed the room to Mason and extended my hand.

His face lit up as he recognized the gesture, and we did our handshake we’d been doing since he was five. I pulled him in at the end and kissed his forehead.

“Be good,” I told him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“It would be nice to know where you’re having this meeting,” Candace tried. “My son’s father going out after eight for a meeting? Seems sketchy.”

“Lock up when you leave,” I said, shooting her a look. “Since you have the key and all.”

She scoffed.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow,” I said, feet away from the door when I remembered. “Mason has practice at 7 a.m. tomorrow. Try to be on time, Candace. Coach isn’t happy with him being late whenever you drop him off.”

Candace pressed her lips together. “Mm-hmm.”

I looked away, trying to keep from glaring at her. Like I said, I hated addressing Mason’s mother in front of him in any way but lovingly, but she made it damn hard.

Especially when she was so concerned about what I was doing, where I was going, and who I was seeing—when she forfeited that privilege a year ago.

***

I pulled open the door to Bellyful and stepped inside. I was ten minutes early—on purpose—to scope out the place and catch a glimpse of Esme when she walked in.

The place was nice, laid-back, and I could smell the food from outside. For a Wednesday evening, it was fairly crowded. While a few tables were open, most were occupied by patrons.

“Mr. Lawson,” I heard from behind me.

I turned and had to do a double-take. Not sure why. I was in a part of town I didn’t live in, so the only person who could know my name was Esme.

The double-take, I quickly realized, had very little to do with my name being called and everything to do with the woman who said it.

The video calls didn’t do her justice. Her tapered curls, now a cloud of perfect ringlets, had grown since last summer. They were the first thing that caught my eyes. Then came her smile, those beautiful full lips—and when she stood, it was her body.

“Shit,” I whispered under my breath before raising a hand to wave. “Ms. Bennett.”

As I made my way over, I had to tear my eyes away from her full breasts, cinched waist, and curves that would make parentheses blush. She was curvy—something I hadn’t noticed during our video calls. All I could see in those was her neck. But in person? My God, the full picture of Ms. Bennett was breathtaking.

As I drew closer, she extended her hand toward me, and I did the same.

“You’re early,” I said, taking her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. I couldn’t hold it too tight—not with her hand feeling so soft and delicate.

“I’m very big on punctuality,” she replied with a smile.

Whew, that smile.

“I’ve been here for the past half-hour.”

“Damn,” I replied, glancing around. “If I’d known that, I would’ve arrived earlier.”

When I looked back at her, I noticed her eyes weren’t on mine—they were on my arms and then my chest. And when she finally met my gaze again, her eyes were smoldering. Or at least, I thought they were.

She cleared her throat and gestured toward the chair across from her. “Please, have a seat.”

I nodded and pulled the chair out.

“One of the reasons I arrived early was because it tends to get crowded here at this time.”

“I see that. Do you come here often?”

“Oh, all the time,” she giggled. “One of my girlfriends’ boyfriends is friends with one of the co-owners.”

My brows shot up. “Nice.”

“Their original location is in Rose Hill. I’ve only been once, but since this one’s closer, I come here. The food is just as good as it is in Rose Hill.”

I could listen to her talk for hours. Her voice was so angelic and comforting. It was one of the things I liked most about her—one of the things I noticed during our first phone call last summer when I was hiring her to tutor Mason.

One thing was clear from that call—Esme’s femininity. Something about her, even over the phone, was unapologetically soft. And that appealed to me.

“Am I talking too much?” She asked, adding a little laugh.

“No.” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

We held each other’s gaze for a moment before she broke eye contact, looking away shyly.

I smirked, biting my bottom lip. “What do you recommend?”

“The jerk tacos.” She closed her eyes and let out a little moan. “Trust me, you’ll love them.”

I loved that. Whatever that sound was, I loved it. I loved it so much I wanted to be a jerk taco myself.

She giggled nervously. “Mr. Lawson?”

“Hmm?”

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Everything’s fine. Why?”

A full-blown smile spread across her lips. “You’re staring at me.”

I blinked, snapping myself out of it. I hadn’t realized I was staring. “I apologize.”

She giggled. “It’s fine.”

“It’s just that…” I sighed, making eye contact again. “If I can be honest, I didn’t realize how gorgeous you were until tonight.”

She furrowed her brows. “You’ve seen me several times during our video sessions last summer and again last week when I started tutoring Mason.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve only seen you from the neck up.”

“From the neck up?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

My eyes dipped below her neck to the curve of her breasts. She wasn’t showing any cleavage—the high-neck halter dress didn’t allow for that—but even a sack wouldn’t hide her curves. Ms. Bennett was fine.

“You’re beautiful,” I said with a nod. “Very beautiful.”

She tried but failed to hide her smile, biting her bottom lip and looking away before refocusing on me. Esme let out a stuttered breath.

It was so damn sexy that I licked my lips, refusing to look away.

Her warm brown skin seemed to blush under my gaze.

“We should, um…” She exhaled again. “We should start talking about Mason.”

And just like that, I was reminded why I was here. “Oh, yeah. Right.”

Because for a few minutes, this whole thing felt like the best first date I’d ever had. But it wasn’t a date. It was a meeting to discuss why my son was acting like an asshole toward this very beautiful woman.

“I’m sorry,” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re right. We should.”

“You’re always apologizing,” she commented. “It’s refreshing. Unnecessary, but refreshing.”

I chuckled.

“You apologize a lot for Mason.”

I nodded. “I do, and for good reason, which I’d like to explain tonight—hopefully well enough that we can work something out. Because, Ms. Bennett,” I scooted closer, “you’re an excellent tutor. You’re great for him.”

Great for me too, but we won’t talk about that.

She smiled.

“Mason exceeded all my expectations this past school year,” I told her. “His final grade in math was higher than any other subject, and that’s thanks to you.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “But his behavior…” She shook her head. “I’m not happy it’s returned this summer.”

“I know.”

“At the start of last summer, everything was great. Mason was great.” She paused. “But then, toward the end…”

“Good evening,” a server interrupted, approaching our table. “How are you tonight?”

We paused our conversation to place our food and drink orders. Once the server walked away, we picked back up where we left off.

“Last summer was a big transition for Mason,” I said, jumping back in.

Esme rested her head on her hand, eyes fixed on me as she listened.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Mason’s mother and I finalized our divorce last July.”

Esme inhaled deeply and nodded slowly. “Oh. Okay…”

“And with the divorce came a lot of drama,” I continued. “She didn’t want it finalized, which made things difficult—especially since she’s the one who cheated.”

“Oh!” Esme’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Shit.” I closed my eyes and mentally kicked myself. “Therapy taught me to stop telling people that because it’s no one’s business. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said softly.

“Anyway,” I cleared my throat, “Mason’s mother thought me moving out at the start of last year was temporary. She thought I’d come back after I calmed down. So, it made for a complicated few months.”

Esme remained still but attentive.

“Mason’s mother kept telling him I’d come back home. And he believed her,” I explained. “Even as I set up a room for him in my condo and he started tutoring with you from my condo, he believed I’d return to the house he grew up in.”

Esme ran a hand across her neck.

“And when the divorce was finalized and I told him I wasn’t coming back, that’s when he started acting out.”

Our food arrived shortly after, and the timing couldn’t have been better.

Esme wasn’t lying—the tacos were delicious. The medley of spices blended together perfectly, and the mango nectar drink was an excellent complement.

“I can see why this is your favorite place,” I said, wiping my mouth.

“Right?” She smiled. “I love it so much. Probably too much because these tacos go straight to my stomach and ass. Oop! I’m sorry!”

I laughed, covering my mouth to keep food from flying out.

She covered her mouth too, laughing along. “That was so inappropriate.”

“You’re fine.” I shook my head. “I just told you about my divorce. I think we can agree tonight’s meeting is in a lane of its own.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, but even that was beautiful.

I swore there wasn’t anything she could do that wouldn’t be attractive. If she asked, I’d tell her to keep eating as many tacos as she wanted because if they were the reason for her body looking like this, I’d recommend tacos daily.

Esme and I spent another half hour discussing Mason’s progress and coming up with a plan for his behavior. I promised to talk to him about it and assured her it would be handled. If she noticed no change, I’d remind him to be on his best behavior and respectful to his tutor.

Dinner was over, and we both decided it was time to head out.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” she said as she stepped through the door I held open for her.

“Thank you for putting your wallet away,” I replied, following her out. “Because if I remember correctly, I was the one who invited you to dinner to discuss Mason.”

“Well…” She giggled. “I’ve been on far too many dates where I was invited, only for my date to expect me to cover my half of the bill, so…”

“Oh, don’t tell me that,” I replied, shaking my head. “Guys are really doing that?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with another giggle. “You’ll find out soon enough what dating life is like these days. I’m sure it’s changed since you were last in the game.”

“Hmph.” I chuckled.

I wasn’t looking forward to dating again. In fact, dating was the last thing on my mind. Mason was my priority. Keeping things as normal as possible for him had been my main focus since the divorce.

“This is me,” she said, pointing at her car. Esme turned to shake my hand, and I obliged. “Thank you again for tonight. I look forward to seeing the results of our conversation during my next video session with Mason.”

“I’m sure you’ll notice a change.” I nodded with a smile. “I’ll talk to him, and you can keep me posted if I need to follow up with him again.”

She nodded and turned to unlock her car with her key fob.

It was almost a knee-jerk reaction for me to reach for her car door. When I was married to Candace, I never let her touch a door when we went out. After ten years of always opening car doors, restaurant doors, and every other door, it had become a habit.

So that’s what I did, but as I reached for Esme’s door, I moved too close, brushing against her shoulder.

She gasped softly as I grazed her bare skin, and when she glanced over her shoulder at me, our eyes locked.

My eyes dropped to her lips.

She licked them slowly, and something about the way she did that made me not want to step back. I don’t even know how it happened. One second, we were standing there, the next, the space between us disappeared.

My hands found their way to the back of her head, gently pulling her in as my lips crashed against hers.

She didn’t stop me. Why didn’t she stop me?

All I knew was that one breath later, our lips were locked, our tongues were moving together, and a deep groan rumbled from my chest, met by a soft moan from her.

It felt unreal. Even more unreal when she dropped her purse to the sidewalk and turned fully toward me, pressing her back against the top of her car door.

I slipped my hand around her lower back, pulling her body against mine.

Right there, in public, we deepened the kiss. She fisted my shirt, tugging me closer until I could feel every inch of her curves against me.

The kiss was urgent but not rushed, heavy panting and desperate moans all I could hear between us.

The only reason I pulled back was because I needed air.

I gently broke the kiss, and when our eyes met again, Esme pressed a hand to her lips. “Oh, shit.” She closed her eyes, whispering, “Oh my God.”

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, unsure of what else to say.

She glanced down at her purse on the ground, reaching for it at the same time I did. Our hands grazed again, and the touch sent another shock through me, making my body react. And the reaction was very evident from my dick tenting the crotch of my pants.

When I stood back up, Esme’s eyes dropped to my crotch.

“Oh my God,” she whispered again, this time with a moan. “I have to go.”

I reached for her car door, but she gently moved my hand away. 

“I’ve got it,” she insisted.

“Ms. Bennett, I’m sorry,” I said, palming my erection in an attempt to calm myself. “I don’t usually—”

“I know. I don’t either,” she said, quickly getting into her car. 

I pressed my hand to the top of my head. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” she murmured, her eyes falling to my crotch again as she sighed. “I have to go. Goodnight.”

She peeled out of the parking spot before I could say goodbye.

I stood there on the sidewalk, watching her taillights disappear. And when she was gone, I stood alone, replaying what had just happened.

A smile slowly spread across my face.

“Damn,” I whispered. “What the fuck was that, Malcolm?”