Love Takes Time Read online

Another trickle of laughter slipped under the door, tempting Alyssa to press her ear against it to see if she could hear the rest of the story.

  “Whatcha doing, Alice?”

  Alyssa jumped and twirled away from the door. At the sight of her future husband strolling down the hallway, the muscles in her throat tightened and made it impossible for her speak.

  Stopping in front of her, Quentin laughed and shook his head. “You know there’s no need for you to be shy around me. You’ve been living here at my parents’ home your whole life. We’re practically family.”

  His words caused a world of butterflies to flutter madly in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to be a part of his family all right—the part that would marry him and give him at least a dozen babies that looked just like him.

  The women laughed again; the melodic sound caught Q’s ear. This time, he pressed his ear against the door but then winked down at her. A second later, he pulled away with a knowing smile.

  “Oh, this isn’t fit for young ears,” he said, planting his hands on her shoulders and turning her away from the door. Alyssa sensed that if she wasn’t there, he would have been more tempted to hang around and listen.

  “We better find you something else to do,” he said, laughing and directing her down the hallway. “If your father knew you were listening to that kind of stuff—”

  “I wasn’t,” she said, finding her voice.

  Q laughed. “Ah, so you do speak.”

  They reached the staircase and Alyssa’s panic increased when she saw her father rushing around with the servers.

  “Really,” she insisted. “I just wanted to hear how the bride and groom fell in love. I didn’t hear anything bad. Please don’t tell my dad.” She turned and glanced up at Quentin. “Please.”

  “Alyssa?” Her father called.

  She turned and smiled down at him. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Is there a problem?” His suspicious gaze darted from her to Quentin.

  “No, sir. I just finished helping the bride and the bridesmaids.”

  Alfred nodded, but his eyes remained locked on the youngest Hinton. “All right, then. You go on to your room and try to stay out of the way.”

  “Yes, sir.” She started down the staircase, but relaxed when she heard Q’s soft whisper.

  “Don’t worry. It will be our little secret.”

  Alyssa was supposed to go to her room.

  She always had a hard time doing what she was told—especially now that the guests had started to arrive. Beautiful women draped on the arms of handsome men had her young, romantic mind churning and her body itching to be a part of the festivities.

  Maybe she could.

  The moment the possibility crossed her mind, her shoulders deflated when the promise she made her father floated through her mind.

  “Cheer up, Alice. Things can’t be all that bad.”

  Alyssa’s head jerked up to see Quentin leaning against the oak door, leading to the service quarters. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest and when he flashed his dimpled cheeks, she nearly swooned on the spot. “What are you doing here?”

  Q shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want me here, I’m sure I can find a group of females who’d actually enjoy my company.” He pushed away from the door and started to head back toward the wedding party. “I just thought you wanted to hear the rest of Jonas and Toni’s story. Silly me.”

  “Wait.” She raced over to him and grabbed him by the wrist. “I do.”

  When he turned to face her, she was suddenly stunned by her own behavior and released his hand while embarrassment scorched her entire body.

  “Ah. So you are interested?”

  She was much more interested in spending time with him.

  He laughed. “What is it about women that makes them love sappy love stories?”

  Women? Did he consider her a woman now?

  Alyssa straightened and even tried to thrust up her flat chest. Her effort wrangled another laugh from him. “Calm down.” He tugged her fat pigtail. “Don’t try to grow up so fast, sport. You have plenty of time to torture the opposite sex, Alice.”

  She smiled, enjoying their budding friendship. “It’s Alyssa,” she said meekly.

  “What?”

  “My name.” She shrugged. “It’s Alyssa—not Alice.”

  “Alyssa,” he repeated. His eyes sparkled like diamonds. “I like it.”

  Another flash of his dimples and her knees nearly folded.

  “Now about this story.” He leaned back against the door. “I can’t tell you all of it, but if you tell me where you left off, I can tell you what I do know.”

  For another half hour, Alyssa listened intently to more of Jonas and Toni’s love story before they were rudely interrupted.

  “Q!” Sterling shouted and stormed toward his startled brother. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over the place for you.”

  “Well then, mission accomplished, dear bro.” Quentin made a mock bow and then winked over at Alyssa. “If I’m not careful, one of these days they’re going to implant a Lojack device under my skin and I’ll never be able to sneak off with you again.”

  To her surprise, an uncharacteristic giggle tumbled from her lips. It was what other women did whenever they were around Quentin—not that she was a woman, yet. But soon, she promised herself, she would be.

  Belatedly, Sterling noticed the starry-eyed teenager. Suspicion narrowed in his eyes as his gaze ping-ponged between the two. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Q took one look at his brother’s face and launched one eyebrow high along his forehead. “Certainly not what you’re thinking.”

  Sterling cleared his throat while looking both guilty and embarrassed.

  Alyssa wasn’t sure she followed the conversation.

  “I was simply filling little Alyssa in on how our wonderful brother Jonas has, once again, found himself ready to walk the plank into the abyss of happily—ever—after.”

  Sterling’s gaze fell to the empty champagne glass in his brother’s hand. “How many of those have you had?”

  “Not nearly enough,” Q laughed. “But hey, the night is still young.” This time he winked at his older brother.

  Sterling drew a deep breath in an obvious effort to remain calm. “Dad wants to see you. He’s in his library.” He glanced at his watch. “When you’re done, Jonas wants to see you.”

  “Well, I guess I shouldn’t keep them waiting,” Q said, marching away.

  Disappointed, Alyssa’s shoulders slumped at having been so quickly forgotten. Then, as if he’d heard her thoughts, Q stopped and turned with a magnanimous smile.

  “Oh, but I haven’t finished telling poor little Alice the story.”

  Alice again.

  Once again, Sterling’s gaze shifted to the shy tomboy.

  “Don’t worry.” Q smiled. “I was real careful to omit the racy parts. Perhaps you could finish for me?”

  Horror rippled across Sterling Hinton’s face like he wasn’t quite used to talking to someone so young.

  “Don’t worry,” Q continued. “She won’t bite.” He made a silent toast with his empty champagne glass and stalked off.

  Alyssa smiled dreamily after her future husband until he disappeared into the house. A sigh, she didn’t even realize she was holding, exploded from her chest.

  Sterling chuckled.

  Embarrassed, Alyssa’s face heated to the point her cheeks felt like they were on fire.

  “I’ve seen that look before,” Sterling said, with an air of superiority that irked Alyssa. She didn’t like it—not even for a moment—that she’d given her emotions away to a man who would undoubtedly feel it was his duty to give her some type of speech.

  “Don’t worry,” he covered. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Unable to hide her surprise, Alyssa eyed Sterling with wary and cautious eyes.

  “What?” he asked innocently enough. “I know what it’s like to have a crush.”

  It to
ok everything she had not to protest and proclaim what she felt for Quentin was stronger than any schoolgirl crush. Q was her destiny.

  “Or maybe I should say what it feels like to be in love?”

  Alyssa experienced another jolt of surprise. Somehow the man was truly reading her thoughts.

  Sterling smiled and for a brief moment, his handsome good looks rivaled his younger brother and she was stunned by how it sent her heart aflutter.

  “I better get back to my room,” she said, and turned toward to the servants’ quarters.

  “You don’t want to hear the rest of the story?”

  Surprised, she stopped in her tracks. “You don’t mind telling me?”

  “Well, I’m sure I’m not as colorful a storyteller as Q…but if you really want to know.”

  Alyssa faced him again to judge whether he was being sincere or just being charitable.

  “Where did you guys leave off?”

  She hesitated, but when she realized that he was being sincere, she approached. “Jonas kicked Ms. Wright out of his condo after she tried to break things off.”

  “Well that is the PC version of things,” he chuckled.

  Alyssa frowned and Sterling cleared his throat.

  “Well, let’s just say that Jonas refused to speak to Toni after that.” Sterling continued the story and concluded when Jonas finally proposed to his pregnant girlfriend. It was truly a romantic story that had Alyssa casting herself in Toni’s role and Quentin in Jonas’s role. Alyssa sighed. The story had a happy ending—just the way she liked it. Now, here she was at the center of what would undoubtedly be dubbed a fairy-tale wedding…and she had to stay in her room.

  “Fifteen minutes to showtime,” the wedding planner said as she rushed by, alerting the wedding party. “Everyone take their places.”

  Sterling smiled and stood up straight. “I guess that means me, too.” His gaze raked over her attire: blue jeans, Mary J. Blige T-shirt and a pair of Reeboks that had seen better days. “I know I’m long past being hip. Well, I was never what you would call hip…but is that what you’re wearing to the wedding?”

  Alyssa dropped her head and couldn’t help but poke out her bottom lip. “I can’t go. Dad said that I would just be in the way.”

  Sterling chuckled and then placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Nonsense.” He looked her over again. “It just so happens that I require a date for this evening. How fast can you change clothes?”

  Hope bloomed in Alyssa’s heart. “But Daddy said—”

  “I’ll have a talk with Alfred. I’m sure I can get him to change his mind.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  Sterling’s chest swelled with confidence. “I’m a pretty persuasive guy. It’s served me well in business.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Trust me.”

  He winked and again Alyssa was charmed by his uncharacteristic playful side. “Okay,” she said backing away. “I’ll go change.” She turned and raced off to her room. The only dress she had in her closet suitable for a wedding was the frilly number her father bought her for Easter. She frowned at the excessive lace, but quickly showered and shimmied into the dress in what had to be an Olympic record.

  A couple of brush strokes through her hair, a ribbon and she was out the door. As she rushed to grab one of the white, wooden lawn chairs she took in the final staging for the ceremony and felt as if she had been cast into a glorious dream. White and pink flowers were strewn as far as the eye could see while a live orchestra played as if they were introducing her to the crowd.

  No sooner had she found a seat on the groom’s side, than someone handed her a folded letter. She suspected it was from her father before she even opened it.

  And she was right.

  Be on your best behavior.

  —Dad

  Alyssa smiled and folded the letter. Sterling had pulled off a miracle and she would be eternally grateful.

  A handsome Jonas took his place before the preacher, looking happy and nervous. The processional music started up and everyone turned in their seats in time to see the first bridesmaid and groomsman march down the aisle.

  Of course, Alyssa’s heart didn’t start pounding until Quentin appeared, escorting a blushing Maria. Alyssa pretended not to notice the subtle signs of the beautiful Latina flirting with her future husband. Q spotted Alyssa in the crowd and winked.

  In that moment, if she had died, she would have left this world the happiest girl alive.

  I will marry you one day, Quentin Dwayne Hinton. I will.

  Sterling was the next Hinton to walk down the aisle. When he, too, spotted her in her silly Easter dress, he smiled and gave her the thumbs-up. She smiled and mouthed the words thank you.

  The wedding march began and everyone rose to their feet when the bride marched down the aisle on the arm of her friend Isaiah Washington. She was six months pregnant and glowed like the sun. When everyone returned to their seats, they all waited in anticipation for the “I do’s.”

  This time, neither the bride nor groom stopped the wedding. Precisely twenty minutes later, the minister introduced Mr. and Mrs. Hinton to the wedding guests.

  The fairy-tale wedding wasn’t over for Alyssa. To her surprise, Q offered his arm for her first dance. Being in his arms was like a dream come true and it took everything she had not to make a fool of herself.

  “Ah, I still stand by my earlier assessment,” he said. “One day, you will break men’s hearts. I just pray I won’t be one of them.”

  She was sure her entire body turned beet-red and it was a wonder that she didn’t trip all over his feet.

  However, when the song ended, Quentin disappeared to sweep another woman off her feet.

  “May I?” Sterling asked.

  “Yes, you may.” Alyssa glided into his arms and soon discovered he was as good a dancer as his younger brother. “Thank you for talking my dad into letting me attend.”

  “Oh, think nothing of it. What else are friends for?”

  She smiled, feeling for the first time that she was his friend and not just some servant’s daughter. Alas the dance ended too quickly and Sterling disappeared into the crowd, as well.

  “My. My. My. Aren’t you popular with the Hinton men,” an attractive woman in a stunning aqua-blue gown whispered. “If you were a little older, I’m willing to bet half the eligible women here would be plotting to scratch your eyes out.”

  Alyssa giggled, liking the idea of women being jealous of her. Especially those who thought they actually had a chance with her man. “They’re welcome to try,” she whispered back.

  It was the woman’s turn to giggle. “I like you, little girl. You have spunk.”

  It wasn’t spunk, Alyssa knew. She had a plan.

  Chapter 1

  The Dollhouse, Atlanta, Georgia

  This was the last place Quentin wanted to be.

  The alcohol wasn’t so bad. It was the loud crowd and his obnoxious friends that were grating on his nerves, a first since he’d dedicated most of his life to partying and seducing beautiful women. Now he was off his game.

  Way off.

  “You sorry son of a bitch!” Some guy who didn’t like Quentin putting the moves on his girl grabbed Quentin’s shoulder and spun him around and then crashed his fist solidly against his jaw.

  Pain exploded in Quentin’s head as he crumpled to the floor. The sad part was that he welcomed it. Anything was better than the frosty numbness of the past three days.

  “C’mon. Get up so I can kick your ass!” the man shouted, his breath strong enough to singe his nose hairs.

  Q’s friends parted like the Red Sea while lap dancers screeched and ran out of the way to avoid the fight.

  “Get up!”

  “C’mon, man. Is all this worth it?” Q struggled to his feet. He casually dusted himself off, and then was careful not to meet anyone’s eyes as he licked the trickle of blood from the corner of his lips. Around him, friends and strangers gaw
ked and waited to see what would happen next. He rather hoped the next blow would render him unconscious for a few days. “The chick wasn’t even all that good-looking.”

  “Oh, you got jokes.” The man launched toward Q, but thankfully his best friend, and co-Dollhouse owner, Xavier King, jumped into the mix.

  “Whoa. Whoa. I just finished remodeling the place. Y’all want to fight, take it to Caesar’s Palace or something.”

  Xavier, a former heavyweight champion with arms that felt like steel bands, successfully dragged the drunkard back a few inches from Quentin’s cowed position on the floor. “Let it go. Let it go.”

  Q’s laugh rumbled, but the notes were depressingly sad. “Nah. Nah. Bring it on. I can take him.”

  It was Q’s cockiness that goaded the man’s temper and gave him the strength of ten men to break Xavier’s hold. Once he got loose all hell broke loose. There were plenty of screams. Friends and strangers jumped in for no reason at all. Bouncers and security guards tangled and before anyone knew it, there were gunshots popping off in the club.

  Q experienced firsthand what it was like to be a defenseless punching bag while receiving blow after blow. The man was really trying his best to permanently rearrange Quentin’s face, and was doing a damn good job of it, too. To his utter dismay, it took a few dozen solid punches before a black curtain closed over this hellish reality. When he finally woke, a stern-looking Hispanic man crouched over him flashing a penlight into his eyes, which caused a near explosion in the back of his head.

  He croaked out a miserable groan and raised an arm up to shield his eyes. “What the hell, man? Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Looks like he’s gonna live,” the man’s heavily accented voice announced.

  It should have been good news, but Quentin didn’t receive it as such. In fact, it was the worst news he could have received.

  “Sir, how are you feeling? We have an ambulance outside. Would you like to go to the hospital?”

  Quentin shrugged from the man’s touch and then waved him off.

  “Suit yourself,” the paramedic said, turned and left Q where he sat on the floor.