Leftovers With Benefits: An Interracial Contemporary Romance Read online

  C. L. Donley

  Leftovers With Benefits

  An Interracial Contemporary Romance

  Copyright © 2018 by C. L. Donley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

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  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

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  1

  Chapter 1

  Kevin Hayes laid sleeplessly in bed looking at the ceiling late one night in late August, contemplating his life. Such had become routine.

  He ran a sinewy, powerful hand through his brown hair that was getting long up top, the longest he’d let it grown since before he’d enlisted. His distinctly large hazel eyes protruded from their hollow sockets, looking sleepy even when he was wide awake like this 2 am night. His jaw and cheekbones were sharp, his skin a pale olive, his lips full, his Adam’s apple distinct.

  He had been a ridiculously weird-looking kid, but the military had done wonders with the way he carried himself, and time was doing the rest as he continued to come into his own. His 30’s were the best phase yet. When they were dating, Lindsey used to say she couldn’t wait until he peaked at 50.

  Lindsey had been his obsession since he was a teenager, since that day he’d walked into a new school and saw her, the highest height among a gaggle of the most popular girls in school, the daughter of a prominent local politician.

  He’d had zero chance with her. That is, until after high school, when he’d come back from four years of military active duty and attended the same college as her (not an accident).

  Though he didn’t know it at the time, it had all been for her. He’d left his home, his family, and everything he’d known to be broken down and molded, to understand the man he wanted to be and become the kind of man that would deserve her. And now after four years of marriage, seven years together total, it was no different.

  Currently, he and Lindsey were separated.

  Marriage turned them into a cliche, and not in a good way. He had to admit he’d always been a bit addicted to Lindsey’s flair for the dramatic. To him, it was an indication of her sensitivity and passion, a side of her he never knew existed until they began dating. She loved Kevin’s tendency to wait on her hand and foot. Naturally, marriage took all of those issues to a new level.

  When he left for Iraq the year before last, the relationship changed. And when he returned, the relationship changed again— this time for the worst. Eventually, Lindsey admitted to being miserable in their marriage and wanting out.

  However, he hadn’t counted on there being another man.

  Finding out about the affair didn’t change his feelings for his wife. Kevin still wanted Lindsey. But he hadn’t the faintest clue how to get her to see she was making a mistake.

  How the hell was he supposed to win his wife back?

  Suddenly he heard a faint knock on his bedroom door.

  He sat straight up in his bed.

  “Come in,” he said, not entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

  A few seconds later, just when he was beginning to think he’d imagined it, the door slowly began to creak open then shut again.

  It was pitch dark in his room, but he could barely make out the silhouette of his wife, her dainty pale frame and shimmering blonde hair picking up the moonlight.

  Kevin was stock still as she made her way across the room and into their bed without a word.

  Stiffly he laid back down, not sure what to do, where to place his arms, his hands. He didn’t want to make the fatal mistake of rolling over and ignoring her presence. After a few moments, Lindsey nestled into his side. He rested his elbow behind her head and placed his hand on the crown of her soft smooth hair, trying to hold back his emotion.

  He’d told himself that he would do everything in his power to keep her happy if she agreed to marry him, and when she admitted to sleeping with another man, he reaffirmed his promise. He was consumed with finding the solution to their ills, starting with himself. He read books, spoke to counselors, he exercised. Anything to get him out of his own mind and help them communicate.

  It took some convincing, but five weeks ago she’d agreed to give them another shot. Since then, she’d been staying in the guest room of their Cleveland home.

  Such a concession on Lindsey’s part was not without its special conditions. She came and went as she pleased, made new friends, kept an elusive schedule.

  She hadn’t once opted to sleep in their bed, however. Not since they’d been separated.

  But tonight, she was once again by his side, cuddling up against the side of him, her ethereal halo of hair the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes.

  The following morning, Kevin looked on at the sight of his gorgeous wife across the kitchen island, prancing around in his discarded t-shirt, her golden hair lightly tousled.

  “Did you hear about the new place that opened up downtown?”

  Was Lindsey hinting that she wanted to go out?

  It was a day he’d been praying for, a day of relief from his new routine of marital torment.

  “It’s like an upscale playground for grownups. Bowling, live music, four-course dinner.”

  “Sounds cool,” Kevin offered casually. He didn’t want to jump the gun in assuming she was bringing it up for his benefit.

  “Greg and Danielle say it’s a lot of fun,” she added.

  He only heard Lindsey refer to her new friends once or twice. He simply sat quietly at the bar and sipped his coffee as she spoke, half scared it was a dream.

  “Anyway, I know it’s been a while since…Vegas.”

  Since he got laid, she meant.

  Last month they’d had a weekend that rivaled old times, during which they made love.

  His libido had been all over the place since he’d come back from deployment. It’d been hard on the marriage but he was working on it, determined to show her that he still loved her.

  What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas. He said nothing about his expectations afterward and didn’t pressure her either, even when things went back to separated as usual.

  “Well, I’ve got happy hour tonight with the guys from work,” he replied. “Let’s go tomorrow.”

  “Just you and me?” Lindsey asked.

  “Yeah, it’ll be like old times. I mean…if that’s what you want,” Kevin waffled. “Not to pressure you or anything just… ”

  “Relax, Kevin. The
answer is yes,” she smiled.

  “Great. Then it’s a date.”

  That morning Kevin walked into work with a spring in his step.

  “First day of September, guys.”

  “Somebody’s in a good mood,” said Scott, his darker-haired older brother, and co-worker. Scott owned the insurance company franchise that Kevin worked for.

  “Me and the Mrs. are going out on a date tomorrow night.”

  “That’s great, man,” said his assistant.

  Some of his other co-workers had been privy to his troubles that started around three months ago when he’d gone off in a rage to a customer and finally broke down admitting to problems at home. Adjusting to civilian life had been one hurdle, but it seemed his now rocky marriage had become another.

  “No shit, it’s great. It’s been a long summer, and I’m glad it’s over.”

  Kevin deserved a break, but Scott didn’t trust his sister-in-law to be the one to actually give it to him.

  “Just because she agreed to spend your money for a night doesn’t mean it’s ‘over,’” his brother warned. He and his wife Shelly were once their primary social circle.

  “I know, I know. But it’s a far cry from Lindsey coming home late every night and crashing in our guest room without a word.”

  “Her parents did such a fuckin’ terrible job,” Scott remarked.

  “So did ours,” Kevin reminded him.

  “At least we know the value of things. Did she ever get around to telling you exactly how your marriage had been terrible this entire time?”

  “…Not exactly. But she’s agreed to counseling.”

  “Well thank goodness she’s agreeing.”

  “Stop busting my balls, man. I’ve been crazy about Lindsey since before basic training, you know that.”

  “Yeah. And she’s just been crazy.”

  “Just because she turned you down?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Weeks of us only talking by text, and then she jumps in bed with me last night,” Kevin marveled, a little too loudly at work. “We didn’t do anything but…suddenly she wants me to take her out. This is a big fuckin’ win, dude. If this goes well, we might be in really good shape by the time the holidays roll around.”

  Scott sighed. “You’re right, man,” he conceded. “Tonight, we’ll celebrate.”

  “Drinks on me,” said Kevin.

  “No way, little brother. Drinks on us. And I’ll drive.”

  * * *

  “Why can’t you just start the dishwasher? I don’t understand,” Cecil complained first thing in the morning, for the thousandth time.

  “I’m not gonna waste a whole dishwasher tab on one big ass pot and some silverware,” Kenya protested, emptying a gallon plastic bag from the freezer into her slow-cooker.

  “Just wash the dishes, Kenya. It’s just you and me. We got two bowls, two dishes, two forks,” he exaggerated. “Why’s it gotta be full to the brim with pots and pans?”

  “You’re welcome to start the dishwasher any time you like,” Kenya politely offered. Cecil shook his head and walked out of the kitchen in a huff. Kenya rolled her eyes as she sipped coffee in her favorite pale blue fluffy robe, what Cecil deemed the “limp dick robe.”

  This was the way virtually every morning started for the 30’s-ish couple: Kenya coming home after a night shift, changing out of her scrubs and putting on her limp dick robe and fuzzy socks, readying the slow-cooker and cleaning the kitchen before bed while Cecil was just waking up. And sometimes, like on this occasion, they actually talked.

  After four years of marriage and eight total years together, Cecil and Kenya Hamilton had come to an understanding. And after many blows, they’d learned when to stop swinging if they wanted not to hate each other. Though each thought the other always had one last word too many.

  They met when she was fresh out of nursing school. Cecil was going through physical therapy at the veterans hospital where she was earning her service hours. He was a gorgeous U.S. Marine who’d managed to return from Afghanistan having successfully hidden a gaggle of injuries he’d been “walking off.”

  He flirted with all the nurses, but he seemed to get a kick out of flirting with her the most.

  “How come you don’t pay me no mind, girl?”

  “It’s Registered Nurse Kenya Abrams, to you, and that’s not true.”

  “You makin’ a brotha work hard over here, Registered Nurse Kenya Abrams.”

  “For what?”

  “For one of those smiles you gave me last week.”

  It was customary for Kenya to roll her eyes at Cecil, as he seemed incapable of taking anything seriously. Sure, he was caramel complected with light gray eyes and looked like someone had drawn him. In fact, he may have been the live action version of a superhero cartoon or video game character. And like a cartoon, Kenya surmised that there was very little to him, emotionally. He seemed like the type whose good looks and natural charisma got him whatever he wanted. Sure, he was a bad-ass, but badasses were high maintenance and she was not.

  “You ain’t gotta work at all, to get a smile from me. See, that’s your problem right there, what you tryna work people for?” she would loudly tease him as she inevitably cracked a smile anyway.

  On some level, she hoped it would sink in. She wanted him to know what made her tick and wanted him to like it. He did.

  “Makes me think what else you would make me work hard for,” he would say.

  “Oh, you like hard work?” she would let slip out.

  It was horribly unprofessional, probably a fireable offense and somewhat out of character. But she couldn’t help challenging him every time he tried to make her weak in the knees. It gave her such a rush to make a man like that wonder what she meant, what was inside of her.

  “You lucky my shit ain’t even workin’ right, right now,” he would say. She’d laugh as he’d go on a hilarious tirade about his medical symptoms. She loved to laugh, and she loved that he could make fun of himself just as easily as he could make fun of anyone else, if not more so. She never understood the term “make fun” more than when she met Cecil.

  These days, however, he tended to “make fun” as an emotional weapon, and when it was time to make actual fun, he would rather skulk off to some corner and slowly corrode the occasion. His military career didn’t help matters.

  Cecil returned to the kitchen dressed and ready for work.

  “Did you get time off like you were supposed to?” asked Kenya.

  “I’m still workin’ on it, Kenya I told you,” replied Cecil dismissively.

  She’d been nagging him since the summer to get his time blocked off for their upcoming cruise along the Gulf of Mexico. They both worked long hours with opposite schedules and barely saw each other during the week. They needed alone time like nobody’s business.

  “You shoulda been workin’ on it weeks ago, when I booked it. I don’t wanna have to go on a cruise by myself, but I will.”

  “No matter what happens, you should. You deserve it,” he added.

  Kenya sighed as she poured herself a cup of coffee, a soft cache of words coming to her mind to say but she just swallowed them. Didn’t he realize that spending quality time with him was what she wanted, not a vacation?

  “I’ll send you a text to remind you.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m working late tonight,” he informed her.

  She cocked her head to the side with a disappointed look.

  “Cecil, it’s my day off.”

  “Is it?”

  “You were supposed to go with me to the Farmer’s Market.”

  Cecil gave her a little chuckle. “The Farmer’s Market ain’t goin’ nowhere, girl.”

  “You say that every season, and every season we never get around to it.”

  “K, you act like the Farmer’s Market is the hypest event in town.”

  “It was kind of a big deal in my house, you know that,” Kenya began, reminiscing, “it’s all done up in the fall, and w
e always went as a family.”

  “It ain’t even September yet.”

  “It is today, it’s the first.”

  “Alright, alright.”

  “Some of us didn’t ‘holiday’ every year.”

  “Yes, I’m well aware,” Cecil groaned. Kenya stood in the kitchen like a statue, looking straight at him while he perused the refrigerator.

  He grabbed the orange juice and a glass from the cabinet before he turned to the direction of Kenya’s silence. He was confronted with her icy stare. He laughed, thawing the atmosphere with his sexy smile.

  “How many times do I have to say it?” he whined, “my mom had money. I was broke.”

  “Only people who grew up with money say that dumb shit.”

  Cecil’s mom was a master plumber. A stingy-ass master plumber. It was a hell of a combination. There was never a time that someone didn’t need a master plumber. So she was a millionaire within twenty years. She made Cecil and his younger sister work for everything they wanted, and she still drove the same Ford Taurus she bought with cash in 1999. She had one weakness, however, which was that she loved going on vacation.

  “She’s your mom now, too. You’re welcome to try and get money out of her yourself anytime you like,” he lilted, mocking her tone from earlier.

  “Yeah, no thanks. So much for marrying up,” she joked.

  “I tried to tell you,” he shook his head dramatically.

  “It’s a good thing I married you for your looks.”

  Cecil stroked his own chin as he posed, his opaque grey eyes betraying effortless sex appeal and male beauty. Kenya watched him with folded arms, a grin forming at the corners of her mouth.

  “Don’t be over there actin’ coy, girl.”

  Kenya giggled.

  “You love it,” she teased, her almond eyes smizing.

  “You lucky I married your wallflower ass,” he ribbed her.

  “You didn’t think I could put it on you,” she bragged.

  “No, I didn’t think you had that mouth,” corrected Cecil.

  “Oh, I know you ain’t hatin’ on my mouth, much as you like to use it,” Kenya challenged.