Brown Sugar
Shiloh Hurston, a 27-year-old bank teller, and poet is left piecing the remnants of her heart back together after ending a volatile and unsatisfying relationship. During her sabbatical from love, she finds healing in performing poetry at Ray's, a lounge located in the small town of Roseville. What started as an escape turned into a secret admiration for another performer and crowd favorite, Marquis Kent.
Marquis Kent, a 28-year-old carpenter, and reformed preacher's kid is desperately in need of a fresh start, and moving from his hometown to Roseville was the first step to a new life. He too finds relief in performing acoustic covers of his favorite songs at Ray’s. His sultry voice paired with his southern charm made him a crowd favorite, including the person he least expected – Shiloh.
To Marquis, Shiloh is the perfect woman who has it all together – a woman clearly out of his league. To Shiloh, Marquis is just another heartbreak waiting to happen, but she can no longer resist the temptation...
A serendipitous encounter opens their eyes to the realization that they have more in common than what meets the naked eye. But are they willing to put their apprehensions aside and explore what could be?
Excerpt
"What made you perform 'Dear Ex-Lover' tonight?" Her eyes widened then lowered as she sighed. "Typically, your performances align with your mood. Like last month, you talked about freedom and what it meant to you. You said something 'I'm like free as the birds in the sky and calm as the ocean waters crashing against the shore.' You looked at peace when you performed it too. But tonight, you looked every bit of pissed."
"Wow," was all she said.
"Was that too much?" I asked sensing a shift in her mood.
She shook her head. "You're very observant."
"Only when it's something that catches my eye."
She laughed quietly then shook her head. Before I could ask what was on her mind, Mirian came over with our food.
"Let me know if y'all need anything." I nodded and Mirian went to greet her next table.
Seeing Shi light up at the sight of her food made me smile. Truthfully, I wanted to see more of this side of her.
"You didn't answer my question," I said before taking a bite of my toast.
"My mother pissed me off."
I quirked my brow. "So, you did a poem dedicated to your ex?"
"She ran into him recently and he asked for my number." After running her fingers through her hair, she continued, "My mom wants me to get back with him, marry him, have his children, and... I just can't."
"You still love him?"
She shook her head fleetingly. "Not at all. He's a man that's used to getting what he wants, and I just wish he would give me the space I deserve."
There was a slight pause, I sensed her hesitation when it came to opening up about her ex. I didn't want to seem pushy or nosy so, I changed the subject.
"You from D.C?"
"Nope, Richmond."
"What made you leave?"
She sighed. "Him."
Damn.
She slid the remaining quarters across the table and inserted them into the jukebox. While she looked through the music selections, I continued to eat my food while occasionally stealing glances at her. I tried not to look like a creep, but I couldn't help myself. Tonight feels like the first time I saw Shiloh. The sounds of Etta James' I'd Rather Go Blind came on and she returned attention to me.
"So, what's up with you and the president of your unofficial fan club?" she asked with a playful smile.
"Nothing is up between us."
She raised her brow and twisted her lips like she wasn't convinced.
"We have an arrangement. When we're together, we're together. And we're not together..." I shrugged while taking a bite of my bacon.
"You look like the type to have commitment issues."
I shook my head. If only she knew that was far from my case. Having a family and a wife was something I hoped to have in the future, but right now I was focused on getting back on my feet. Moving from the only place I'd ever called home was a big step and living on my own was needed right now. Over the last few years, I depended heavily on my Pops and sister and now that I was on the cusp of thirty it was time for me to get my shit together.
"Nah, that's far from the truth."
"So, what is the truth?" she pried.
"I want a wife, two kids, a house with a white picket fence."
She giggled, then said, "For real?"
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
"I don't know...because you seem kind of like a ho."
I laughed at her brutal honesty. If I were her, I could see why she thought I was a ho. Women literally clung to me at Ray's and while I didn't exactly give them the attention they desperately fought for, I wasn't turning them away either. It may seem egotistical, but I liked the attention. Although, I'd prefer if the attention I received was from someone I wanted to reciprocate, like Shiloh.
"So does your ex have you all messed up about future relationships?"
"Messed up? No. It wasn't all him. I had to accept my part in all the foolishness that transpired between us."
I nodded before asking, "What's your ideal kind of partner?"
She looked out the window then back at me. "Trustworthy, dependable, and hopelessly devoted to me." Sadness lingered in her eyes for a beat then she smiled. "I want a Sunday kind of love."
I raised my brow and her smile grew wider as she laughed.
"You know? Like the song." She pointed her head toward the jukebox. "Easy, refreshing, and carefree."