Wrong Man Wright Time: An Interracial Time Travel Romance by Niomie Roland

Author:Niomie Roland [Roland, Niomie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-09T16:00:00+00:00

***

The next week, she drove home at lunch time, and instead of rushing straight to the kitchen for a light meal before heading back to the office, she went into the garden looking for Xavier. She’d barely seen him during the past week, but it was her fault.

The day after their Valentine’s excursion, she had found him in the backyard before he went home and told him that the two of them couldn’t kiss anymore. She made it clear that she was seeing Dexter and lip locking with him was wrong. He agreed easily, and she was relieved. As much as she liked him, she knew they could never be more than friends.

She had to go quite a way into the back yard where she found him standing with his two helpers, arms folded commandingly across his chest, clearly giving instructions. For a second, she admired his air of authority, that image of complete control that he projected. He was ambitious; she knew that. She wished things would turn out the way he wanted them to this time around.

He noticed her and reacted with surprise. When the other two men ghosted away, he walked up to her, looking both pleased and perplexed. The echo of their last encounter rang between them like an alpine church bell. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

He waited.

“I was just heading inside to fix myself a sandwich.”

“Okayyy.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me?” She hadn’t meant for her invitation to sound so tentative, but it had. She waited for him to say something cutting or sarcastic.

Instead, he fell into step with her. “I’d love to.”

While he washed up in the guest bathroom, she put the sandwiches together: Ham and rye with a nice muenster cheese and lots of tomatoes and lettuce. She made do with one sandwich, but she assumed that a man of his size would probably want three.

She was right. He tucked in with gusto, and they were quiet as they ate. When the meal was over, she picked up their plates, dumped them into the sink, and opened the fridge. “Drink?”

“I’m a Buck beer man. I suppose you’ve heard of it?” he joked.

She glanced inside; of course, there was a six-pack of the family beer chilling in the fridge. But then she remembered what Julian had told her about the Xavier of the future; undone by his love for alcohol.

“How about some apple juice?” she asked brightly, producing the bottle.

“I know you’re not a teetotaler, since we had some very nice wine on New Year’s Eve.”

She tried to sound casual. “I just thought… you know, it being only noon and all.”

He took the glass of juice graciously and said nothing more on the subject—but had something to say about another subject entirely. “Okay, Ryha. Spill.”

“What do you mean?” Was he really on to her so fast?

“Your ulterior motive. Your reason for asking me to lunch.” He drained the glass and sat it carefully down. “You want to tell me about it?”

“What makes you think—”

He scoffed.

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