Love T.K.O. Read online

  “I’m a vegetarian. You’ll be picking me up off the floor if I eat all that food.”

  “For real? What made you come to that decision?”

  “When I was ten I saw a pig slaughtered on my grandfather’s farm. I quit eating meat that same day.”

  “That’s brutal. You don’t mind if I have the buffet, do you?”

  “Of course not. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those vegetarians who make meat-eaters feel bad.”

  “Good, ’cause I’ve been dreaming about ribs all week!”

  While they waited for the server to return, they discussed the Men of Initiative program. Conversation came easily and they shared the same opinion on many prevailing issues. Politics, like religion and sex, weren’t topics to discuss on a first date, but when the discussion turned to the state of black America, Rashawn couldn’t resist weighing in.

  “Police brutality, racial profiling and the AIDS epidemic in the African-American community are topics that should be addressed by all of the presidential candidates but will probably be ignored. That said, I still think Senator Obama has a good chance of becoming president,” he told her, picking up a piece of rib with his hands. “Most people would rather see a black man in power than leave the country in the hands of a woman.”

  Yasmin nodded. “You’re right. The United States might be the land of the free and the home of the brave, but when it comes to equality for women, we lag behind less prosperous nations.”

  “We like to think we’re an elite superpower and that other countries should learn from us, but it’s often the other way around. Finland, Mozambique and the Philippines all have female presidents, but we’ve never had one in our two-hundred-and-thirty-year history.”

  “Is that how old America is?” she asked. Yasmin was surprised that Rashawn knew who all of the political candidates were and the pressing issues dividing the country.

  “Someone needs a refresher course on American history,” he teased.

  Yasmin hid her frown behind her napkin. This was mind-blowing. If she had been standing up, she would have toppled over onto the floor. She had her doctorate. She had graduated at the top of her class. She should be the one schooling him, not the other way around. “How do you know so much about history and politics?”

  “I’m a news junkie. When I was a kid my mom worked at the local TV station and me and my brothers used to hang out there after school.” Rashawn tasted his drink, a pensive expression on his face. “Mom always dreamed of working her way up from the mailroom and being the first woman of color in the anchor chair, but it never happened.”

  “Do you see your dad now?”

  “From time to time. Now that my career’s taken off, he comes around a lot more.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  Rashawn drew a deep breath before answering. “Hugo was only nineteen when my mom got pregnant with me. He was a high school dropout and didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby. No one ever taught him what it means to be a man, so how could I blame him for the mistakes he made?”

  After she had peppered him with more personal questions for what seemed like hours, but wasn’t more than a few minutes, he said, “This feels like another therapy session!”

  They laughed together. The ambiance of the ship, coupled with the starlit sky and the stunning view spread before them in all directions, made for a romantic setting.

  “I can’t believe how beautiful this boat is. I never imagined it would be this nice,” Yasmin confessed, glancing around the dining room. Upon entering the boat, they’d followed the other passengers to the upper deck. There they’d sipped wine, admired the collection of skyscrapers and vivid blue-green water and listened to the gentle lapping of the waves. After meeting the captain and his crew, they retired to the dining room and found a table near the piano. A short, stocky man had been playing since the ship had set sail, but now the raspy voice of Michael Bolton was purring from the overhead speakers.

  “I brought you another helping of ribs, sir.”

  “You must have read my mind!”

  The waiter replaced Rashawn’s empty plate and set down one heaping with ribs, chicken and potatoes. “Enjoy,” he said, before departing.

  Shaking her head in awe, she finished what was left of her cocktail. The heat from the fireplace wrapped itself around her, warming her body. “You eat a lot. I figured you’d have a very strict diet, being a boxer and all.”

  “My workouts run anywhere from four to six hours.” Rashawn picked up a slab of ribs and ripped the meat off the bones, leaving nothing behind. “I have to eat enough so I have the energy to train. I snack during the day and load up on carbohydrates and protein in the evening.” He devoured the plate of food in minutes and when the waiter returned told him it was the best meal he’d had all day.

  Yasmin watched Rashawn over the rim of her glass. His deep, masculine voice, his soft eyes and athletic physique made her mouth water, but he was more than just a handsome face. He was interesting, entertaining and just plain old funny.

  “I’m gonna have to skip my morning workout because there’s no way I can run five miles after eating three plates of ribs.”

  “Do you train every day?”

  “Yup, except for Christmas and Easter. My mom’ll kill me if I miss mass.” He rested back in his chair, watching her. “I’m having a good time.”

  “Me, too,” she confessed, surprised by her admission.

  “I’d like to see you again. If you’re free tomorrow night we could go bowling or shoot pool or something.”

  “I can’t, I’m going to a wine-tasting party.”

  “A wine-tasting party?” he repeated, clearly amused. “What’s that all about?”

  “Once a month, my friends and I get together and sample various wines. It’s really an excuse to gossip and get drunk, but we like to think it’s cultured and high-class.”

  Rashawn liked beer better than wine, but he would sip Merlot and discuss fashion trends if it meant spending more time with Yasmin. If he was going to pull this off, he’d have to educate himself on the different flavors, textures and aromas. He’d stay up all night if he had to. It was a small price to pay for having another date with this beautiful appealing woman. “Is this thing just for the ladies or can fellas come, too?”

  “It’s a good mix of singles and couples. Actually, my best friend is hosting tomorrow. She just moved into her new place so it’s more of a housewarming party.”

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  Yasmin didn’t know how she felt about Rashawn meeting her friends. Katherine could be a snob sometimes and her pretentious, upper-middle-class colleagues weren’t any better. But how could she tell Rashawn she didn’t want him to come because she was scared he wouldn’t fit in? Sure, he was well read, but what did he know about Wall Street, trust funds and vacationing in the south of France?

  Rashawn must have sensed her inner turmoil, because he said, “Two dates in one week is too much, huh? Getting sick of me already, Doc?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I want you to come, I just don’t think you’ll have a good time. We’re a pretty boring group and—”

  “Let me be the judge of that. Besides, it’s not about anyone else, it’s about being with you.” His eyes revealed nothing, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice.

  Yasmin didn’t know what she was doing. Inviting Rashawn to the party was a bad idea. He was a twenty-seven-year-old boxer from the inner city. What would he talk about with a room full of executives, doctors and millionaires who lived in gated communities? But instead of dissuading him from coming, she heard herself say, “It starts at seven o’clock.”

  “Cool.” Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he pushed back his chair. “Do you want anything else?”

  Her stomach rebelled at the thought of more food. Yasmin stole a glance at the dessert table. Guests were sampling cakes, pies and other high-calorie treats. The strawberry shortcake looked tempti
ng, but Yasmin wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she overindulged. The fund-raiser was weeks away and she had a designer gown to fit into. “No, thanks. I’ve had enough for one night.”

  “We should walk off some of this food.” Rashawn punctuated his sentence with a smile. He wanted to be alone with her. Her eyes sparkled under the soft lights and the more time they spent together, the more she impressed him. “How about we take a stroll around the deck?

  “But we haven’t discussed the charity fund-raiser yet.”

  “No, problem. We’ll talk outside.” Rashawn directed his eyes to the back of the room. “Let’s get out of here. Rhythmically challenged people are starting to dance.”

  Giggling, Yasmin allowed him to help her to her feet. Swayed by his smile, she took the hand he offered. It was a simple gesture, but one that made her feel warm and tingly inside. Eric thought hand-holding was juvenile. According to him, professional people didn’t act “common,” but being this close to Rashawn was as natural as breathing.

  Brushing past a burly man in a high cowboy hat, Yasmin cast a bemused glance at the couples “dancing” to Miami Sound Machine. “You sure you don’t want to stay? I’d love to see you out on the dance floor.”

  Rashawn grinned. “And I’d love to have you in my arms.”

  Chapter 6

  “It’s a beautiful night,” Yasmin said, as they exited the side doors. Darkness swallowed them, but the light from the moon illuminated their faces. Their eyes aligned. Then Rashawn released her hand and slipped an arm around her waist. It felt strange being so close so soon, but she didn’t pull away. His touch was warm, welcome and made her feel soft and pretty. It had been months since she’d felt that way.

  “I’m surprised there aren’t more people out here.”

  “Would you believe I paid everyone to stay away?”

  Yasmin laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “It’s great that we’re alone. We can discuss the fund-raiser without any interruptions.” He held her tighter. “What else needs to be done and how can I help?”

  Just when Yasmin was ready to write him off, he surprised her. He really did care about the kids at the community center. She widened the smile that had already found its way onto her lips. “Niobie and I got a lot done today. We ordered the decorations for the hall and finalized the menu with the caterer. After a lot of begging, I convinced a local restaurant and a five-star hotel to donate gift certificates for the silent auction.”

  “Gift certificates?”

  “Yeah, people love them and the two-night stay at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino always gets the most bids. Last year we made five hundred dollars.”

  “Why not offer something big like a Pro Bowl package or Wimbledon tickets?”

  “Because those things cost money and we’re strapped for cash as it is.”

  Nodding, he mulled over the idea forming in his mind. Tomorrow he’d ask Brody to get him a pair of Pro Bowl tickets. They were hard to come by, but his trainer knew a lot of athletes and entertainers. If anyone could score a deal on the package, it would be Brody. Rashawn thought of sharing his plan with Yasmin, but decided against it. No use getting her hopes up. If he came through he’d be hailed as a hero, but if he didn’t he’d look like a bigmouth who couldn’t deliver.

  “Have you given any more thought to hosting the fund-raiser?”

  Rashawn had made up in his mind to emcee the charity fund-raiser the moment she had asked him. He pitied the families who lived in the slums and if it weren’t for Brody taking him under his wing, he’d still be running the streets with his friends. “I’ll do it.”

  “You will?”

  “Yeah, as long as you agree to be my date.”

  “I already have a date,” she told him. “Does that mean you won’t do it?”

  “No. I’d love to help out and it’ll make my mom proud. Who’s the guy?”

  “A friend of the family.” How could she tell him it was her deceased fiancé’s brother? He wouldn’t understand. Hell, she didn’t either.

  Eric’s older brother, Julius, had been a steady presence in her life ever since the funeral. They talked regularly and met for lunch a few times a month. In the beginning, she had valued his company. He had shared his fondest memories of Eric, had taken care of her those first few weeks after his death and had been a shoulder she could cry on. But lately he had started hinting at them being more than friends, and Yasmin dreaded the day they’d have to have “that talk.” He was a great guy, just not the right guy for her.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Rashawn. This year’s theme is ‘Transforming our neighborhood, one child at a time,’ and you’re a symbol of hope for the kids at the center.”

  “I like the theme. Sounds good. Let me guess, you thought of it, right?” Rashawn teased, winking. “It has your name written all over it.”

  “Some of the other committee members think it’s corny. I’ve held off on having the banner made because…”

  In the corner of his mind, he thought about kissing her. Yasmin was a stunner. Big smile, long legs, curves galore. A dime if he’d ever seen one. But she had more going for her than just her looks. He was captivated by the quickness of her mind and, although she had an Ivy League education and a host of degrees, she didn’t act like she was better than him. She took on causes and people and had a successful practice. Yasmin Ohaji was a charming, generous spirit who, as far as he could see, was loved and admired by everyone who knew her, including him.

  “What do you think?”

  He abandoned his thoughts at the sound of her voice. He stared at her, surprised to find her watching him expectantly. The last thing he’d heard her say was something about changing the slogan. “I’d leave it, but if you want something shorter, cut out the first part. ‘One child at a time’ is still a very powerful message.”

  “That’s good, but I like mine better.”

  “All right, Sister Souljah! Keep your slogan and tell the other committee members it’s your way or the highway!”

  They laughed together, their voices floating on the evening breeze. When they reached the topmast of the ship, Yasmin walked over to the railing and stared out at the burnt-blue sky. It was a clear summer night, filled with romance and laughter. The ship would be docking soon, and they had made it through the night without crossing the line. Her biggest fear was giving in to her desires, but she had worried for nothing. Rashawn was a perfect gentleman and it was refreshing being with a man who kept his word.

  Closing her eyes, she hugged her arms to her chest. The wind whistled, water lapped against the ship and the faint sound of music drifted from the dining room. The once-empty deck had quickly filled with couples, and she could hear the shouts and chatter of people standing nearby.

  “This is nice, huh?”

  Her breathing accelerated. The sound of Rashawn’s deep, oh-so-cool voice made ripples soar up her back. Yasmin didn’t have to turn around to know he was standing behind her, but she did. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Don’t look so serious, Doc. Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

  “I’m older than you.” She examined his face to gauge his reaction. No change. “I’ll be thirty-two in December.”

  He slipped a muscular arm around her waist. “That’s cool. I like mature women. Now, if you’d said you were forty-two, we might have a problem!”

  Yasmin laughed freely. “You’re too much.”

  “And you’re absolutely stunning.”

  “You think so?”

  He tightened his hold. “Yeah, Doc. I do.” To further prove his point, he lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck.

  Yasmin gulped. It was too soon for them to be this close. Her trepidation fell away as he caressed her back. His touch set her heart at ease. Longing melted her resolve and filled her with desire. Their connection had been growing since the night they had met, and the only way Yasmin was ever going to get him out of her mind was to kiss him.
Once she got it out of her system, she could forget him. Lifting her chin to receive his kiss, she waited anxiously for him to accept her invitation.

  A bolt of electricity shot through her as their lips met. To her surprise, the kiss felt like the most natural thing in the world. She tuned out the voices around them and focused her entire mind and body on the experience. Entangled in the sheer intensity of the kiss, she lost all sense of time and place. His mouth was soft, sweet, inviting and he kissed her as if they had all the time in the world. Yasmin liked that. He wasn’t in a rush and he wasn’t aggressive. She curved into the arch of his body, savoring the feel of his warm embrace.

  Rashawn abandoned her lips and kissed the side of her neck. He touched a hand to her cheek, then fingered a lock of her hair. “Nice technique, Doc.”

  Yasmin licked her lips. If a kiss could leave her with erect nipples and shaky legs, there was no telling what would happen if they ever made love.

  He nibbled on her earlobe before returning to her lips. This time the kiss was long, deeply intense and fraught with passion.

  “Rashawn, is that you?”

  Yasmin pulled away midkiss. Forcing her eyes to focus, she turned in the direction of the voice. Her desire waned at the sight of the young woman with a café au lait complexion. She wore a gold tube top and a pair of skintight shorts that were probably bought in the junior girls section of a department store. Draped in accessories from head to toe, she was the quintessential around-the-way girl LL Cool J had once paid homage to.

  Rashawn coughed. “Hey, Teagan. What’s up?”

  “Not much, just here with my girls, celebrating Mydeisha’s birthday.”

  “That’s cool.” Rashawn didn’t want to introduce Yasmin to Teagan, but if he didn’t, she’d think he was hiding something. Things were going well between them, and he didn’t want to ruin their date. “Teagan, this is my friend, Dr. Yasmin Ohaji.”

  Yasmin snuck a look at Rashawn. The tiny muscles around his eyes twitched but he was wearing a proud smile. He’d emphasized the word doctor, cueing her that Teagan had either once rejected him or was an ex-girlfriend. Only a blind woman would turn him down, so she suspected the latter was true.