A Valentine’s Short!

Happy Valentine’s gorgeous people!!

I hope everyone feels the love today.  Here’s a short story snippet to get us in the mood. I hope you’ll enjoy!  #JustLove

So what you know about love?


“A lot,” I replied warily, unsure of where exactly this was going. I could do surface-kinda-superficial with Mr. Gorgeous-Barista but not deep and soulful. Not now. I was wallowing. And, what was more, I was content to be wallowing.

But why he had to be comin’ all up in my face wid his gorgeous one and…?

“I don’t believe you,” he chuckled, flashing a smile that was wicked-as-sin as he continued wiping down the bar, watching me as I lifted my glass out of the way. He paused, so close I could smell his seductive cologne, cocking a flirtatious brow, still measuring my truthfulness.

Alright it was a bald-faced-lie, but …

“That’s alright. I can live with that …” I tipped my glass in his direction, to emphasize the point that we didn’t even know each other’s names, let alone have any level of intimacy. I knew his game, I thought, taking in his defined body, his smooth brown skin, with the exotic tat peeking out, his soft kinky ‘fro and perfectly groomed beard, with deep brown eyes, the kind I could get lost in. He probably did this kinda counseling spiel with every woman who drew-up at his bar looking pitiful. So, I really didn’t give two flying shits if he knew more about love than I did.

“Michael. Or Mike.” He said, reading my mind, and crossing the line I’d set up in my head.

“Oh … okay, Mike or Michael,” my third Cosmo was working that sweet magic. “I’m Roseanne or Rosie, but I ain’t feelin‘ the later this hot minute.” I grimaced, downing the rest of my drink and then peering into the bottom of the fancy glass the way kids do. A nice drunken accent. Anything to draw a laugh out of Mr. Womanising-Handsome-Barista.

“Pretty name,” he commented, leaning back on the counter at his back and crossing his toned arms around his middle, his eyes raking over me in appreciation.

The dude was actually sizing me up.

Alright Mikey Mike, I’m feelin’ yah ….

The room was not yet spinning, but I’d definitely had too much already. Things weren’t blurring but I was slurring, and thinking inappropriate thoughts about how good Mike-ty Mike must be in the sack, given his extremely fine externals.

How thorough … hmm … the things that mouth could do...

Girl, check yo’self! My moral compass was pulling me up.

Drinking alone on an empty stomach was plain dumb.

But in my world depression and dumbness seemed to be willing bedfellows lately, so I’d readily knocked them back, with the odd shot thrown in for good measure. To think, I’d flown all the way to the Bahamas to surprise my honey only to find him with another woman, in our suit no less, a suit we’d had the most romantic rendezvous’ ever in. Now, everything was tarnished, soured, my heart feeling mashed up. Mooshed up. Whatever.

I’d watched my boo, ex-boo get used to it, try to stutter out some crappy excuses, watched him pack-up and leave with her.

Yep, this Valentine’s Day Surprise trip I’d organised was some stupid, shitty, stupidy, shittity-shit … I can tell yuh. I was too trusting and naïve. Thinking, back in London, that I’d help mellow him out in the best possible way, coming at the end of a three day conference all the way down here … but dude was sooo mellowed out already. He had me looking like a damn fool, catching him with his secretary in bed.  Cozy.

My mother’s words rang in my head, Ignorance is bliss.

Maybe for mum that had worked, all she’d ever cared about was spending dad’s money. He could do whatever the hell he liked. Womanizing was always given a pass. Then there was my BFF, Joyce. So many opinions, too many voices. I started to rub my temples, my freshly manicured nails moving through my loose curls to massage my scalp. My lids slammed shut, enabling Joyce’s words to resonate all the louder.

Don’t do it, Joyce had warned me. I don’t know why you goin’ down deh?  His sorry ass ain’t worth it. I don’t even know why you still wid him. He got big ‘L’ pasted all over his big-ass head. Loser. Girl, you know I can smell a cheater, you know what I’m sayin’?.

My best-friend’s words couldn’t have felt further from the truth at the time though.

Blake had always been the smoothest, sweetest, sexiest brothah in my eyes. So I truly hadn’t seen this one coming. Things had been good with us. I mean, relatively speaking. The blow-ups of a year back felt like ancient history. Blake was my baby, my lover. I loved spoiling him and he did likewise. I thought we’d grown so tight, building something real, laying down dem roots. I never thought twice about him playing my ass.

I was smart sistah.

Too smart to be played like dat.

Boy was I wrong.

He’d played me so darn good, humiliation was now my second name ‘cos all my undergarments were still flapping in the tropical breeze, trying to dry. I mean, when the hotel maid can’t even look you straight in the eye, you know you’re the sorry-ass fool everyone laughing ‘bout.

“Hey, you’re crazy beautiful, you know that? And, just between you and I, way too good for him,” Mike’s words rippling against the shell of my ear, had me immediately switched-on, the space between my thick thighs buzzing-up.

I was no hussy, but there was always a first time. Was this the come-on of come-ons happening?

Taking a leaf from Joyce’s book. Living dangerously. The prospect of a hook-up on Valentine’s with this handsome stranger felt so out of character for me, but yet nothing made sense in my world at this moment.  It was like I’d had a lobotomy and was feeling out my crazy side.  Mike was my object of study, a nice sounding guy, who was being a gentleman.

But, could I really do this? Go with the flow?

Wasn’t that way up there on the female fantasy list?

Wam Bam thank you Mr … Mike-ty Mike?  Happy Valentine’s!  No … no…

“Thank you,” I breathed, feeling the water fill the rims of my eyes. He had no idea how much I needed to hear those kind tender words right now. Sweet words. It was too much. I started to cry.

“Hey, what? No, man. Don’t cry,” Mike soothed, passing me a tissue.

I heard him tell the other barman he was signing off. And, the next thing I knew, Mike was guiding me through the lobby, into the kitchen, then through the kitchen, into the cloakrooms. His fingers were laced in mine, and not a word was spoken. My body was humming in anticipation, my high red heels clacking on the marble floor, preoccupied with my clutch and the spaghetti strap of my pale yellow summer dress which kept slipping down my shoulder … I felt as if we were going deeper and deeper into the bowels of the hotel. Stopping in front of a locker, he opened it, stuffed his apron inside, took out his jacket and locked the door. “You know what we gonna do?”

I shook my head. The sudden exertion had sobered me up a little.

“We’re gonna take a moonlight stroll on the beach down to the bar, We’re gonna eat and … talk. You’re gonna tell me all of what’s on your mind, and I’m gonna tell you all about what I think love is all about, and what a lady like you deserves. Then, I’m gonna set you right by showing you. I’m gonna hold you and do everything it takes to make you feel like the most special lady in the world tonight.”

“Everything?” My insides were literally trembling and screaming ‘Let’s go!”

“Everything.” He reiterated, a wicked smile cracking the corner of his mouth. “But it’s up to the lady of course?”

My heart did a strange flippy thing, as my gaze fell to his chest, those biceps, that mouth …

“And, why would you do that … for me?” I asked, sounding breathless and feeling too flabbergasted for words.

“You want the truth?”


“Without sounding like a stalker. I’ve been watching you. Noticed every time you came down here on holiday. Dreaming of a chance to get to know you. Especially those times you came alone.” he paused, gnawing on his bottom lip.

The times Blake stood me up last minute, but told me to stay on without him. Huh.

Hey, I know it’s out of line, but that dude you were with … was one lucky bastard and he didn’t even know it. He didn’t deserve you.”

Ain’t that the truth, I sighed.

“Now, if you were mine?” a glint of excitement crossed his eye, his lids growing hooded. “Let’s just say, I’d never let you go.”

“For real?” I couldn’t help my lopsided smile. The romantic in me had just woken up and bitten me on the ass again, because everything this man was doing and saying felt so damn right.

I’d noticed Mike too. Given him the flirty eye on more than one occasion, caught his quick glances.

If this wasn’t some corny cupids arrow right deh?

Still, what was happening now felt so far removed from my normal.

But maybe it was time to live on the fly. A little dinner and a moonlight stroll. How dangerous could that be?

Not dangerous at all, ‘cos nuttin’ gonna happen …

Mike cupped my cheek, and a tingle rippled the length of my spine, meeting the throb pulsing at my core with an explosive kiss.

Then again.

Harmless this most definitely was not.

© L.S. Bergman 2018

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