| Different Strokes |
| Stone Richards |
| eXtasy Books (2010) |
|
| Tags: | Romance, African American Studies, interracial B/W |
Mike Robinson is a successful structural engineer. Donis Shepherd owns a fitness gym. In high school they fought their attraction for each other, then, in a weak moment, they acted on their emotions--and were discovered in a compromising position. Confused and embarrassed, Mike left town--only to return now hired to build the city a new expansion bridge. He's never forgotten Donis. Has Donis forgotten him? Can they renew those once passionate feelings? Or has too many years passed and passion waned?
Mike Robinson is a successful structural engineer. Donis Shepherd owns a fitness gym. In high school they fought their attraction for each other, then, in a weak moment, they acted on their emotions--and were discovered in a compromising position. Confused and embarrassed, Mike left town--only to return now hired to build the city a new expansion bridge. He's never forgotten Donis. Has Donis forgotten him? Can they renew those once passionate feelings? Or has too many years passed and passion waned?
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Different Strokes
Copyright 2010 Stone Richards
ISBN: 978-1-55487-499-6
Cover art by Angela Waters
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Different Strokes
By
Stone Richards
Dedication
To Tina. Thank you!
Chapter 1
M ike Robinson pulled the car to the curb and shut off the motor. He craned his head to peer at the house through the windshield. It looked the same, white clapboards, gray paint on the porch, and the large brass knocker on the wide oak door. Nothing has changed. "Or at least with the house." He sighed and opened the car door. Things were different in Stockton though. He had already seen several improvements as he traveled along the main thoroughfare in town. "And once the new bridge is built"
His words trailed off as he started toward the old house. A flood of memories assailed his mind. For most of his childhood, his family lived in the house. It was roomy and had been in the family since his grandfather Carl Robinson had come to Stockton. He raised his eyes to look at the roof. It could use replacing. He poked his hands into his pocket for the key to the front door. Uncle Billy, his father's youngest brother, had moved out almost six months ago, leaving the old house in the care of neighbors. Mike glanced toward the bungalow across the hedge. Millie Armstrong lived there when he was a kid. He mentally calculated her age. "She'd be dead by now," he muttered, taking in the sports car sitting in the drive. "Looks like somebody younger lives there now."
Nothing stays the same for very long. He pulled the key from his pocket and stepped up on the porch. The boards creaked underfoot and for a second he was transported to a long ago time when everything was innocent and fun. He had been a carefree child, riding his bike and playing baseball with the neighborhood kids. He glanced at the old porch swing at the end of the long expanse; he had kissed his first girl while sitting in it. Molly Harper. She was small and had long red hair. She lived down the street and had an older brother in college. At nine, he thought it was the coolest thing to go away to college.
Mike shook his head and laughed. "Adulthood seemed so far away then." He inserted the key in the lock and listened to the tumblers click. When the old wooden door swung in, he grimaced at the odor of stale air emanating from the dark interior. It was clear to him then that the old place would need a bit of fixing up if he intended to make it his home for the next two years.
He had come to Stockton to build the new bridge across the Cypress River. The city council had awarded his company the contract. At first, he fought the urge to bid on the job, thinking that returning to Stockton might be a mistake. Ten years had passed since he turned his back and walked away. A lot had happened in his life since then and putting the past behind him included forgetting old acquaintances. When he was notified that his company's bid had been accepted, he was asked if he would be moving into the old family home, since he had once been a citizen of Stockton and his parents were well known in the area. A few phone calls later, he learned the old house was empty and started searching his personal belongings for the key.
Closing the door, he pushed the memories aside. In two days, his construction company would be arriving and preliminary details would need sorted out. Before that time, he would meet with the city council and the planning and zoning boards. He had painstakingly gone over the plans for the bridge with his crew chiefs, but being at the site and having hands-on access was more important for the success of the project. With construction to begin as soon as the property was cleared and all the permits attained, he didn't have a lot of time to spend getting the house ready.
The living room could use a coat of paint and some new furniture, he decided after lifting a white sheet and inspecting the couch. The kitchen lacked a table and chairs but he supposed he could eat sitting on the couch for a few days. He walked through the downstairs rooms then braved the thought of venturing upstairs. For the hundredth time he hoped he didn't find his old bed in what used to be his room, or the sports posters still pinned to the wall. He chuckled and mounted the stairs. His parents had moved to Ohio shortly after he went away to college and his Uncle Billy and Aunt Lisa had moved into the house. As he walked down the hall, glancing through the open doors of the other bedrooms on the floor, he thought about all the good times he had in the old house.
A wash of remorse engulfed him. If he could only forget about the bad times, maybe the good ones would be worth remembering. He grimaced. If there was one thing he hoped to accomplish while he was in Stockton, it was to look up Donis Shepherd and make his apologies.
Mike paused outside the bedroom, a muddle of thoughts racing through his mind. Did he want to open the door? "I'm an adult, for Pete's sake. I should be able to face reality and come to grips with my feelings."
Drawing in a deep breath, he grasped the doorknob and twisted it, opening the door. Sunshine streaked across the room, illuminating the pale blue walls with a yellow glow. He tried to let the cheery greeting soothe his mind and push aside memories of the awful event that had taken place inside the room. His gaze darted to the far wall. The twin bed, with its patchwork quilt sat almost as he had left it when he went away to college. He stepped inside the room, ready to face his fears.
