Page 13 of Do You Right

Little did she know, I felt the same way, and I hadn’t known him as long as she had. “To be honest, I don’t like him either.” I whispered in her ear as if we weren’t alone.

We were too busy laughing to see KC come into the living room. “And what’s got y’all so tickled?” he questioned with a raised brow and his arms folded over his chest.

I pointed at the first photo I saw on the page. Thankfully, it was a photo of him covered in Vaseline from head to toe. “Laughing at this mess you made with that Vaseline.”

He eyed me suspiciously while coming closer. Leaning closer, he shook his head. “Damn, Mama. You pulled out the baby photos?” He shook his head disappointedly before his eyes landed on me. “You’ve seen me at my worst. We gotta get married now, Chai Rose.”

Mrs. Carter wiggled her eyebrows at me, as if to insinuate she was on board with what he’d said. I pretended to be fully invested in the pictures on the page because the warmth creeping toward my cheeks would surely tell a different story.

“Juvi!” a deep voice yelled from the front of the house.

“We’re in the living room, Pops,” KC called out in response.

A few seconds later, an older version of KC appeared in the doorway. The only difference was his hair was cut low and wavy. He was dressed in a gray utility style work uniform but still very handsome. When he walked by KC, he mushed his head, but all his attention was on his wife. I watched in admiration as he snatched her up and kissed her passionately.

“Remember what I told you?” KC whispered to me when he came to plop down on the couch.

I nodded because now I understood. The love his parents shared wasn’t just seen but also felt. “What you said about me and my woman?” his father questioned when he finally let his wife go.

“That y’all be doing too much.”

I chuckled when his dad bucked at him. “I told you about that hatin’ shit. Maybe one day you’ll find a nice young lady to love your dirty drawls too. Until then, let your pops show you how it’s done.”

KC made a gagging sound with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry. I think my luck is finally turning. I’ma have me a wife, too, very soon.”

When I turned to find his eyes on me, chills raced down my spine. My attention instantly returned to the photo album, because he couldn’t be talking about me, right? We hadn’t crossed any lines, but I couldn’t pretend like I hadn’t entertained the idea of dating KC a time or two. From what I could tell, he was the full package, so I couldn’t fathom what would make Tycelyn cheat on him with basic ass JoJo.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, lil nigga. Where’s my daughter? I’m about to take my girls to dinner,” his father shared with us.

“She’s in my bedroom.” I answered him without thought.

“Oh, is this the live-in violin tutor?” His question made me look up from the album to find him watching me with a grin.

I swallowed the cotton lodged in my throat and nodded. “That would be me.”

He walked closer and extended his hand for a shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you. You can just call me Mr. Carter. If my juvi gives you any issues, let me know, and I’ll straighten him out. He can play baseball, but he knows better than to play with me.”

I giggled with a quick look at KC. He watched me pensively from where he was sinking into the plush couch. “It’s nice to officially meet you too, Mr. Carter. Don’t worry, he treats me well. I have no complaints about the man you two have raised.”

His father nodded approvingly. He turned to KC and pointed at him. “Better keep it that way, boy.”

The two of them bickered back and forth until they decided to head out for dinner. I couldn’t help but admire KC’s family. It was clear they all loved one another. We stepped back inside the house from where we’d seen them off from the porch. I got ready to walk away, but KC’s voice stopped me.

“Whatchu about to do?”

I shrugged absentmindedly. “I don’t know . . . maybe lay down and go to bed.”

My throat swelled as he inched closer to me. “I have a better idea. How about you play for me?”

He was so close it made the hairs on my neck stand up. I gulped down my nervousness and nodded. “Okay,” I squeaked out.

KC cracked the most hypnotizing smile, grabbed my hand, and ushered me through the house. He went to grab a bottle of wine from his cellar, then came back to pour glasses for us.

When we got into the living room, he dimmed the lights while I sat on the ottoman stool and laid my violin on my lap. “What do you want to hear?”

“Surprise me.” He leaned back in the recliner with his legs propped up and lifted his wineglass to his lips.

I smiled at him while I debated on what to play. Finally, a song came to mind, so I got into position, closed my eyes, and let the strings do the talking for me. Over the last few weeks, I’d gotten back into the routine of taking my playing seriously. My days were as long and structured as KC’s busy baseball one.