Free Doin' Me by Wanda B. Campbell Page B

from Oregon less than a year ago. He had a business degree and ambitions to one day open his own brokerage company. The closest thing Peyton had to family in the Bay Area was an old college buddy. And although he claimed to have a close relationship with his parents, Peyton always changed the subject when questioned about them. That didn’t bother Reyna; she didn’t want to discuss Jewel or her runaway father, either.
    It was Friday, and Peyton had promised to make it a night she’d never forget after she revealed she’d never been on a real date before. At first Peyton didn’t believe her, but then she shared how she’d grown up in the church under strict supervision.
    At 6:00 P.M . sharp, the telephone rang. It was Peyton at the security gate, seeking access to the exclusive subdivision. After buzzing him in, Reyna rushed to the vanity and sprayed Mariah Carey’s fragrance on her neck and pulse points. After the Chase disaster, she’d thrown out Halle Berry’s fragrance. The doorbell chimed just as she slipped on the black stilettos. “This is my night,” Reyna declared, then raced to the front door.
    â€œHello. I . . .” she said after opening the door.
    The red long-stemmed roses resting in the crook of Peyton’s arm took her breath away. The cologne he was wearing didn’t help, either. The black Versace suit must have been tailor-made to fit his chiseled torso so perfectly. His even skin appeared darker than when they first met. Either Peyton had a tanning salon membership or he spent countless hours lying in the sun. His beard had been trimmed, making his thin lips appear bigger and more attractive.
    Using his free hand, Peyton took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Hello, my beautiful Reyna.”
    She was no match for his cologne combined with his soft touch. Reyna exhaled and almost fell when she attempted to lean against a wall that wasn’t there. Peyton caught her just in time.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked once he’d steadied her.
    Reyna downplayed her embarrassment. “It must be these shoes. I lost my balance.” There was no way she’d let this man know he’d blown her mind in less than sixty seconds. She stepped to the side. “Please come in. It’ll just take me a minute to grab my wrap.”
    â€œWhere would you like for me to put these?” he called after her.
    Reyna stopped mid-stride. “He must think I’m a moron,” she mumbled to herself before turning around and offering him a smile. “Thank you. I’ll put those in water first.”
    â€œWhy don’t you let me do that?” he offered. “Just show me where you keep the vases.”
    He followed Reyna into the kitchen. “Let me get that for you,” he said when Reyna reached into the top cabinet.
    Her skin burned while his body pressed slightly against hers as he retrieved the crystal vase. Now she wished for long hair again so she couldn’t feel his warm breath against her neck. Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus . . . She mentally recited the books of the Bible to calm her nerves. “Where the heck did that come from?” she scolded.
    â€œWhat did you say?” Peyton asked.
    Reyna cleared her throat and stepped away. “Nothing. Be back in two minutes.”
    Inside her bedroom, Reyna decided Mariah Carey’s fragrance yielded better results. Never in a million years did she think she’d be attracted to a white guy, but so far Peyton was the total package. He was attractive, attentive, and came with his own resources.
    When Reyna returned from the third-level bedroom, the vase filled with roses rested beautifully on the granite countertop, but Peyton was nowhere to be found. Reyna retraced her steps into the living room. Still no Peyton.
    â€œPeyton,” she called out.
    â€œDown here.” The distant response came from the bottom level.
    â€œWhat the heck is he doing roaming