Read an Excerpt
Chapter 1
Perfection is an ideal, not a person. But if perfection ever were personified, it would be Jasmine. Never before had deep, maple-syrup-brown eyes looked so cool and reserved as they did with Jasmine. When she looked at you, her eyes sliced through all of the bullshit you fronted and right to the doorknob of your soul. She was not cold but she was very controlled. When inspired, she radiated warmth; when offended, she seethed with venom. For every ounce of her beauty, she was equally as dangerous.
And she was beautiful. Jasmine was so damn fine it made no kind of sense. Her body was an ode to geometry. Bathed in light brown, caramel-colored skin, she stood a tall, long-legged five feet nine inches of pure eye therapy. Enjoying her slim, athletic frame to the utmost of societal decorum, she lived up to her nickname—Jazzy—by her flamboyant, sexy style of dress. Tight riding pants masked a pair of taut, smooth legs bound with muscle. Her toned arms peeked out of a fitted black halter top that bared her sculpted midriff, which was garnished with a small tattoo sporting “Jazzy” in cursive. Blessed with magnificent high cheekbones, slanted Asiatic eyes, tailored eyebrows, slim cheeks with a set of shy dimples set around a broad, Nubian nose, Jasmine emulated black beauty.
Problem was she knew it. Most of her boyfriends couldn’t handle it—her combination of sass and smarts, intelligence and irresistibility, passion and presence. But this one was different.
Nick was special because he loved her. He really loved her. Anonymously each week, a greeting card would appear in her box at school. It was always one ofthose beautifully done Mahogany cards, featuring black love in its many facets. He would never admit he left these cards—and she would never bring it up—but she knew it was him. It was always signed “I love you” in his unmistakably neat handwriting. On any given day, he could show up at her apartment with a rose in one hand and his heart in the other, just to stop by and say hi. He was the most gentle man she had ever been with. Nick would draw warm bubble baths for the two of them in his tub. An excellent cook, he thought nothing of making her breakfast in bed. Back massages with warm scented oil from Bath & Body Works were the norm on frigid, snowbound Friday evenings. Nick was a perfectly romantic man.
Which explained the cabin. The upcoming weekend was Nick’s turn in an exquisite log cabin nestled away in the Vermont wilderness. Barely accessible by Nick’s two-year-old Toyota 4Runner, the cabin lay hold to an immaculate interior—glass-block shower, step-down Jacuzzi master bath, and a $10,000 entertainment system. To top off the whole experience, this would be Jasmine’s first trip to the cabin.
Audibly, the loving couple crunched their way through the foot-deep snowy winterland between the truck and the cabin door. A fluffy, dispersed snow fell lazily around their shoulders. Jasmine looked so cute, like a honey-glazed chocolate snow bunny. Playfully, Nick wiped away a flake of snow that sat on her nose. In thanks, she cast a playful, loving, longing look back. Aroused, he fumbled in his pocket. Damn, where were those keys?!
Finally inside, Nick removed her scarf, tenderly, sliding it around her neck, allowing it to slip to the floor. Now it was his turn to grin. They took their time undressing each other, playing out the sensuality of the moment to the hilt. Before too long, the pair stood across from each other completely nude—his darkness complementing her lightness. If he did not act like such a “man” all the time, Nick would have cried. Jasmine was beauty itself. She rewarded his gentle hand up to her full lips with a kiss. He returned the favor by caressing her cheek. And so it began.
An hour later, they were splayed out around the edges of the tub. Beads of sweat forged their way down the sides of their faces. Limp with an intoxicating melange of sexual satisfaction and exhaustion, Nick reached out to straighten a stray piece of hair on his lover’s face. As he withdrew the hand, Jasmine gave it a peck.
“I love you, mami.” He sounded so sincere.
She floated a kiss at him. “Right back atcha. Papi.”
“Jazzy,” he said lazily, “have you ever thought about marriage?” Jasmine recoiled sharply, watching him carefully. This sounded suspiciously like a trick question. Reassuringly, Nick shifted in the bathwater, gazing upward, with his arms spread out on the edge of the tub nonchalantly. “Just wondering.”
Go ahead. Play it off, boy, Jasmine thought, grinning to herself. Maybe he was being serious. She’d humor him. “Sure I’ve thought about it. I mean, I’m twenty-four. I’m not getting any younger.”
A sly smile. “Right.” Absently, Nick played with the bubbles.
Jasmine reached for her glass, refilling it with wine. She whisked away a stray bead of sweat lazily dragging itself down the side of her face. After a sip from her glass, she asked him, “Why do you ask?”
“We’ve been going out for more than two years now, right?”
“Yes.” Another sip from her glass. She eyeballed him closely. So many times in the past he had started off sounding so serious, only to break off into laughing fits, playing with the gravity of a moment that usually warranted a proposal. Jasmine wasn’t buying it.
“And you love me, right?” For whatever reasons, his assertion lacked conviction.
“You know I love you, boy,” she answered easily, playfully, splashing him slightly.
“I love you,” he said meaningfully.
“What are you trying to say, pooh?” Jasmine awaited the punch line with lazy, relaxed speech.
“Will you marry me.” Nick blurted it out so quickly, it rather seemed a statement than a question.
Shocked, Jasmine collapsed against the side of the tub. Never before had the hot tub generated so much heat. This brotha was serious. He was proposing to spend the rest of his life with her. Only her. Wow. She loved him, but she was not ready for all this.
With trepidation, Nick sought out her eyes. Well? they asked for him.
Seriously, she gave him her eyes. “I have to think about it.” Nick slumped against the side of the tub.
Copyright 2001 by Edwardo Jackson
