Every Chance I Get - AlTonya Washington Mills & Boon Kimani

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set aside the chart and put a hand on his shoulder. “What room is she in?”

      Minutes later, Talib was being directed toward the unit where Misha was being treated. The six-foot-plus former linebacker had to lean on the doctor when he saw Misha bandaged and resting in the dim room.

      “God,” Lettia whispered. She was just as devastated as Talib was, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.

      “It’s my fault.” Emotion had rendered Talib’s voice raw.

      “Shh…” Lettia rubbed his back. “Honey, blaming yourself won’t do either of you any good.”

      “It’s my fault.”

      “Talib—”

      “Don’t tell her I was here.”

      “But, Talib, she’ll—”

      “Swear it, Lett.”

      “Honey, why?”

      “Just swear it, Lettia.”

      She nodded, even as she searched his face in wonder. “All right,” she said when he took her shoulders.

      Satisfied, he turned back to Misha. She was already uncommonly small and the bed she occupied looked gargantuan with her in the middle of it.

      “Will she…be okay?” His voice wavered while he brushed his thumb across the bruises darkening her jaw and cheek.

      Lettia nodded, easing a hand into the pocket of her white coat. “From what I read in the chart, everything points toward her making a full recovery. It’s gonna take time though. She banged herself up pretty badly.”

      Talib leaned in close to study Misha intently, as if he were trying to memorize her features—battered as they were.

      “Remember, you swore not to tell her I came here.”

      “Tal—”

      “Lettia.”

      “I won’t.”

      Gingerly, Talib kissed an uninjured area on Misha’s forehead. “I love you,” he whispered against her skin, and then left the room.

      “Tal…Tal? Talib…” Misha was stirring mere seconds after the door closed.

      Lettia glanced over her shoulder, debating on whether to go after Talib. Instinct told her that a line had been crossed between the couple and it was best to let things be.

      “Talib…I…I’m sorry.”

      “Honey, shhh…” Lettia spoke near her friend’s ear.

      Misha rolled her head slowly across the pillow. She frowned, trying to open eyes that were swollen shut.

      Lettia pressed a hand to her hair. “Shh…honey you need to rest. Shh…”

      “He has to know I’m sorry. He has to know it….” Her words could barely be heard as they tripped past her bruised lips.

      Lettia kissed the spot Talib had earlier. “He does, hon. He does.”

      Chapter 1

      Present Day

      Asher and Riley Hudson’s Bedford home swelled with talk and laughter. Guests filled practically every room of the lovely two-story Southwestern styled house. People were still arriving, their vehicles circling around as drivers searched for parking space on the stadium-size lawn.

      The guest list may have been a tad lengthy for a baptism, but no one wanted to miss out on the chance to meet the newest and cutest Hudson. The fact that a baby was the guest of honor put all parents in attendance at ease. No one had to search for a sitter since all kids were welcome. The younger children had a wonderful time breaking in Ahmad Hudson’s elaborate playground set while the older ones enjoyed several rounds of basketball on the two courts the property boasted. For adults and kids alike, the gathering was a sheer delight.

      Happiness loomed over everyone. Everyone, that is, except the guest of honor’s godparents. Thankfully, a fair share of business-talk intermingled with the afternoon’s events, occupying Talib and Misha just enough to keep their thoughts and eyes off one another.

      Such was the case when Misha stood near the bar cooing with her godson/nephew and nuzzling her nose to his cheek.

      “Already got the man buyin’ you drinks, huh?”

      Misha laughed at Tony Geraldson’s remark and gave the baby a tiny bounce. “A woman’s gotta train a man early,” she told the heavy-set bartender.

      Tony laughed when the five-month-old in Misha’s arms cooed as though he were voicing his opinion on the matter. Misha’s dark eyes glinted merrily but she tilted her head when it appeared the baby was looking elsewhere. Turning, she discovered what had sparked the child’s cheerful outburst.

      “Talib.” Her glee vanished.

      “Misha.” His voice was soft. “You need help here?” He was already leaning close to tickle his nephew’s cheek.

      Misha bristled when the scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. “We’re good.” Her voice was tight yet her expression softened when she looked back down at the baby.

      It was easy for Talib to take note of the vinegar in her voice and he smiled. Knowing he was playing with fire, he moved a tad closer. “Shouldn’t you ease up a bit?” His dark gaze spanned the length of the bar.

      “Counting my visits?” She rolled her eyes. “Could you hurry with that ginger ale, Tony?”

      “Got it right here, Misha.”

      She turned and gently set Ahmad in his uncle’s arms. Without another word, she took her drink and stormed off.

      Talib pressed a kiss to Ahmad’s forehead and watched Misha disappear into the crowd. “Now I’ve done it, haven’t I, mate?” He chuckled as the baby seemed to coo in agreement.

      “What the hell do you mean, you’re sorry?” Misha had bolted away from Talib only to have her temper freshly stoked when her best friend forbid her to leave.

      Riley cringed and waved her hand to ward off Misha’s frustration. “I hope you don’t whine like that around Ahmad. ’Cause I’ll bring him over for you to deal with if he ever starts it.”

      Misha folded her arms over the draping bodice of her dress. “Well, I’ll be happy to take him home with me right now. I just can’t stand to be here for another minute. No offense.”

      “Mmm-hmm.” Riley didn’t veer from her task of adding more hors d’oeuvres to a platter while lecturing Misha at the same time. “And is it the party or Talib you’re running away from?”

      “Oh come on now, Riley.” Misha reached over to swipe two of the goat-cheese pastries from the platter. “You know, this is some thanks I get after all my understanding about you and Asher.”

      “Dammit,” Riley hissed, almost cutting her finger upon listening to Misha. “Right. Understanding. Well, if understanding means feeling kicked around by your best friend, then I guess you were tremendously understanding.”

      “Motherhood has made you cold.” Misha’s tone was matter-of-fact.

      Riley finally took pity and turned to cup her friend’s face. “What’s this really about?”

      Misha pulled Riley’s hands away. “It’s really about him being here. Him being back in my life, so to speak, after six years when he’s supposed to be back in Phoenix. Even if it is just temporary.”

      “Right.” Riley puffed her cheeks nervously and turned back to the goat cheese spread.

      “Hold it.” Misha grabbed Riley by the chain belt at her waist. “Spill it.”

      “I really need to get this stuff out—”

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