Synithia Williams - Overtime For Love

“Bridget isn’t the wrong woman. That’s why I asked her to move to Jacksonville. When I get married I want to stay married. I know Bridget and she knows me. We both want the same things and our families love each other. She’s perfect.”

Jack glanced at Isaiah quickly before going back to the tattoo. “Perfect doesn’t mean you want to sleep with her every night.”

Heat filled Isaiah’s face and he flipped his cell phone again. “We’re compatible in every way if that’s what you’re getting at.”

It had been a while since they’d slept together. And the last time had been rushed, when they’d both been in the same city a year ago and only had a few hours before she had to catch a flight. He’d always thought their sex life was decent, until he’d heard the stories the guys told. Then he realized his and Bridget’s sex life had always been tame. There was nothing wrong with tame...it just made him wonder about wild.

Kevin shook his head. “Big deal. Most women are decent in bed. She’s moving here because you asked her to. Are you burning to see her in here?” Kevin placed a fist over his heart. “Is she all up in your head? Are you twisting, turning and downright yearning for her to get here so you can get your arms around her?”

Twisting and turning, yes. But not out of anticipation. More out of a sense of anxiety. Was asking her here the right thing? That wasn’t something to talk about now. Kevin was his friend, but Jack didn’t need insight on Isaiah’s boring romantic life. “Of course,” he said quickly. Kevin’s look said Isaiah was full of crap.

Isaiah focused on his phone and checked social media. He thought about the last time a woman had heated his blood. Still thinking about Angel. Isaiah clenched the phone and his teeth. He needed to stop thinking of Angel, but not thinking of her was nearly impossible. Dark sparkling eyes, full luscious lips, curves... Damn, the woman’s curves were amazing. Smooth, golden tan skin that had sparkled with a glittery lotion that smelled as enticing as she looked. And that thick dark hair—he’d wanted to reach out and touch it.

Angel was the perfect name. If that was her real name. The bartender at Sweethearts gentlemen’s club probably used a fake name, just like the dancers did.

Their conversation had lasted all night. He’d felt a connection, but wasn’t that supposed to be what he felt? Women at the strip club worked to make connections so patrons spent more money. Even though he’d wanted to ask for her number, he’d made himself walk away instead of shattering the illusion if she turned him down.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” Isaiah asked.

“Some of the fellas are going to Sweethearts. I’m not feeling it. I’d rather burn my money on something else.”

The jump shot of anticipation at the mention of Sweethearts made Isaiah’s heart dribble against his rib cage. He took a slow breath to steady the beat. He didn’t need to go back there.

“Why aren’t you feeling it?” Isaiah asked.

“I promised Chanel I’d take her to Hawaii.”

Kevin’s latest fling. Isaiah cocked his head and smirked at Kevin. “She give you the burning feeling you were telling me about?”

“Hell no. Chanel is only looking for a good time. That’s all I’m good for.” Before Isaiah could comment on the grim tone of his friend’s admission, Kevin got a knowing look in his gray eyes. “Are you going to the club?”

Isaiah grunted and shook his head. “Nah. What for?”

Kevin just grinned. He’d teased Isaiah about Angel for a week after the team celebrated at Sweethearts. Teased him and called him a damn fool for not getting her number. According to Will Hampton, another friend and teammate, her not giving him her number was unlikely. Perks of being a professional athlete, he’d said, but Will was the type of guy not many women said no to.

Isaiah wasn’t going to bring Angel back into the conversation. Bad enough her sexy laugh and beautiful smile still popped up in his dreams. “You’ll be back from Hawaii in time for camp?” He stood and looked at the pictures on the wall.

“Just going for a weekend. I’ll be back,” Kevin said.

One of the pictures on the wall caught Isaiah’s attention. He walked over for a closer look. The five curved lines arranged in a star shape reminded him of the tattoo Angel had on her wrist. The African symbol for strength.

A reminder that I can handle anything that comes my way. I’m strong enough to take care of me.

Her voice had held a trace of some lingering pain. He’d wanted to know what it was so he could wipe it clean away. But he’d changed the subject. Teased that he would get a shark tattoo because it was his favorite animal. She’d laughed and he’d fallen into her spell.

Too bad life wasn’t just about going with instinct, the way a shark did. Instinct would have him back at the club tonight. There were consequences to consider. Plans to be made. Plans that didn’t involve falling for a bartender with a beautiful smile after already asking the “perfect” woman to move to his town and talk about their future.

Chapter 3

Angela fought to keep the professional smile on her face as she listened to the volunteer sitting across from her desk give another excuse for not visiting the child she was assigned to this month. Olivia Parker was a decent lady. She was retired from the school system, had friendly brown eyes and a matronly appearance. She’d heard about the need for advocates when Angela’s supervisor was interviewed by the local news six months ago and immediately came in to volunteer. Except she always had an excuse for why she couldn’t put in the time.

Everyone in the office was assigned a group of volunteers to organize and ensure the kids they represented had someone to check in on them. Angela’s volunteers rarely missed visits because she was constantly touching base with them. Ms. Parker was her coworker Jerry’s volunteer. He’d asked her to deal with Ms. Parker because he “couldn’t be mean to someone who reminded him of his grandmother.” The real excuse: he didn’t know how to manage his volunteers.

“You understand, Angela, why I didn’t make it this month. Between my husband getting sick, the drama with my sister and Pickle’s surgery, it just slipped my mind,” Olivia said in a pleading voice.

Angela took a deep breath. Pickle was Ms. Parker’s miniature schnauzer. “I do understand, but it is also very important that our volunteers personally see their assigned child every month. That’s the only way we can ensure they’re adapting to their new foster home and are making any scheduled court appearances or visits with their parents. I’ll work with Jerry to cover your visit tomorrow, but please let Jerry know ahead of time if you can’t make next month’s visit.”

Olivia bobbed her head up and down. “No. No. I’ll go first thing in the morning. I understand and I promise I won’t miss next month. I’ll be sure to visit not just once, but—”

“Twice.” Angela forced her smile to remain. “I know.” She glanced at the clock and stood. This meeting with Ms. Parker had gone past five o’clock. Angela needed to be out of the office and on the road right at five to dodge the worst of the traffic before picking up Cory and getting him back to her apartment, where her neighbor, Nate, watched him while she worked nights at Sweethearts.

Angela stood, which prompted Ms. Parker to do so, as well. Ms. Parker liked to talk and she would easily go on for another thirty minutes about her dog and husband if Angela didn’t end the conversation. “Thanks again for your service, Ms. Parker. We can’t look out for the kids without the dedication of volunteers like you.”

Ms. Parker blushed and nodded and said again how sorry she was as Angela ushered her out of the office. Why people like Ms. Parker would go through the rigorous training and background checks necessary to volunteer with the child advocacy office only to flake out on responsibilities every other month didn’t make much sense to Angela. It was a constant source of frustration. The kids were the ones who suffered; things were missed when there wasn’t consistent contact with them. Angela knew because she’d lived it. If she’d had someone looking out for her after her parents died, maybe her aunt wouldn’t have found it so easy to steal her inheritance. That was the reason she’d gone into social work. She wanted to make sure no other kid was taken advantage of by the people who were supposed to protect them.