Devoted Love: A BWWM Romance (Blazin' Love Book 7) Read online

  Devoted Love

  Ja’Nese Dixon

  Also by Ja’Nese Dixon

  Read the Series

  Blazin’ Love (Contemporary Romance)

  Platinum Love (Book 1)

  Privileged Love (Book 2)

  Exclusive Love (Book 3)

  Chosen Love (Book 4)

  Special Love (Book 5)

  Absolute Love (Book 6)

  Pretend for Me (A Short Story)

  Devoted Love (Book 7)

  Select Love (Coming November 2019!)

  Steamy Sensations Holiday Love

  DEVOTED LOVE. Copyright © 2019 by Ja’Nese Dixon

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organization and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-950405-10-7 (paperback)

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Contents

  About Devoted Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Leave a Review

  Join My Newsletter

  Book 1 ~ Platinum Love

  Book 2 ~ Privileged Love

  Book 8 ~ Coming Soon!

  SNEAK PEEK: Rockstar Secrets

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Also by Ja’Nese Dixon

  About the Steamy Sensations Holiday Love

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Trick or Treat a Prince and a Freak…

  It’s Halloween.

  I’m dressed as a fairy princess. Only my guys get the irony as I cover my tats in makeup and hide my dreadlocks underneath a platinum blonde and pink wig to snag Ryker.

  I’m Jordan Cole, the tech whisperer and a partner with my best friends in Platinum Prestige. I gladly hide behind the scenes because I don’t handle social situations or people well.

  I manage to control my inner freak until I’m stuck alone in a room with Ryker Colin, fifteen years my senior, classically handsome, and the managing partner of a prestigious law firm.

  Nothing about me belongs in his pristine life. I fumble, stutter, and I might snort when I laugh. So, when Ryker hires me to build a custom app, I realize I want more than the contract, I want him.

  Now the question remains, can I cast a spell to make the handsome prince fall madly in love with an oddity like me?

  Chapter 1

  Black girls rock. Hands down. No chaser. But what about freaks?

  I'm not the norm. I get it. I've learned to accept my small corner of the world. Because I'm a Black girl who loves coding and video games and reading and cats and… I glance up from the online dating site, and they're all waiting on me.

  I squirm in my seat and close my laptop. I sent an SOS message, and thankfully my guys—Hunter, Harper, Charlee, Taylor, Parker, Ryann, Payton, Alex, and Chase—came running. Now, all ten of us are squeezed in this booth.

  God, I love this.

  I can always count on them, and they accept me for who I am and all my weird ways. I drop my head to gather my thoughts and string together the explanation needed to get some stuff off my chest. Finally, sharing this truth with someone other than myself is like standing in the middle of a crowded room and flashing my bare ass.

  I'm sure that breaks another Black girl rule. But I hate the elastic and boy shorts ride, which is neither here nor there. My lack of panties won't help me complete this damn dating profile.

  Who can introduce their true self in a fill-in-the-blank form?

  Nobody.

  I started filling in the blanks, and I realize how different I am. Then I start comparing myself to the competition, and from there it's a slippery slope, because the reality is, I'm then added to a database with women who look like them.

  I scan around the table. My guys are dimes and fuckin' rich, but their hearts are platinum, and I can't believe they're mine. I blink as my vision blurs.

  "Don't you start crying, Jordan," Alex demands.

  “Are you pregnant?” Payton asks. “I wouldn’t be surprised. It seems we’re multiplying at a rapid pace around here.” She snickers.

  “Ha ha ha…” Charlee’s laugh lacks humor causing the others to laugh uncontrollably. “I don’t know what you heifas are laughing about. I got stretch marks up to my damn eyeballs, and she got pregnant jokes."

  Ryann starts choking, and I gently pat her back. The topic of babies and husbands and the few of us still "holding out" circles around the table. I laugh, and this is why I called them. My crying and weird ways don't scare them off. And the snappy attitudes and quick comebacks are a vital component of their sisterly love.

  “I’m in my feelings, y’all." I sit back and stare across the room, unsettling thoughts about life, and love swirl around in my head. I take a deep breath, here goes nothing. "I've come to a few conclusions."

  “This is why you all should get pregnant.” Charlee sits forward with her hand scanning our side of the table. This side holds the childless and manless variety of our crew. “Because kids mean you don’t have time to think.”

  "Jordan, you better jump in because once she starts talking about babies, she moves to men. From men, she naturally transitions to talking about her man. This means we'll have to hear all the juicy details about Darius and his chocolates." Payton wiggles her eyebrows, and we howl. It's true. They jump each other's bones like horny teenagers.

  “Stop hatin’ it ain't cute!" Charlee shakes her shoulders, and that's what I want. Not Darius or his chocolate but my own somebody, which brings me back to this emergency meeting.

  "I've been thinking," I start again, and they all turn to face me. "Speed dating didn't work. Hooking up didn't work. And now, here I am trying to create a damn profile for online dating. I'm starting to believe love's not for me."

  They gasp.

  “Oh, the horror… That must be an oxymoron. Me without love," I say more to myself than them as I work this out. "Love not being for me is worse than thinking I can never have ice cream or German chocolate cake or wine or…have my toes curl from ecstasy. I want it. But for some reason, it slips through my fingers." I nervously twist the hem of my shirt as I roll my shoulders back because hunching like the coding nerd I am is unladylike. “I’m starting to think it’s the packaging.”

  I can't meet their probing glances. We've been friends since high school, our ages vary, our lifestyles vary, but what remains constant is the GIB—guys in black—roll deep. You fuck with one, you fuck with all of us. And they'll search and destroy the culprit responsible for bringing a guy down.

  But the culprit this time is me. I’m tired of living this shell of a life.

  “The packaging of love?” I peek up at Parker, and I get the confused expression. I’m not making much sense.

  “Wait, start over because you can’t be saying what I thin
k you’re saying.” Ryann gives me a stern stare down.

  “I want to be someone different for a change.” My brain recalls the blank fields from the form. “Think of it…as a social experiment.”

  “What kind of shyte is this? Some new age, how to get a man in seven perfect steps? Have you been reading O again?” Charlee questions. Leave it to her to add her colorful commentary.

  "No…yes…maybe. Look…you guys don't get it. You get me." I sigh. "Thank you. Love you for it. But you don't get what it's like to be a Black girl in my skin. I'm weird and different, and men run…I mean, they literally run when they get to know me…the real me.”

  "You're just meeting the wrong guys, honey. Be patient." Harper squeezes my hand.

  She’s the heartbeat of this crew. She kept meeting the wrong guys until she met Liam. But at least she had men to choose from. I have nothing.

  “That’s easy for y’all to say. Liam, Darius, X…all of your husbands are fucking orgasms on legs. No offense.” I don’t want my friends’ men, but they’ve scored big time in the men department, which makes this situation more complicated.

  “None taken.” Harper blushes.

  “Damn right.” Charlee and Parker high five.

  “And you deserve it, you guys are hot. Thick, curvy, long legs. The type of women songs are written about, wars are fought for, love declared for. Back in the day, you'd be Jet models or posted on some dude's wall. But for me, who do I get…Olive Oyl. Itty bitty tittie committee. And the worst one, friend zone." I rock forward, wiggling my hands beneath my thighs. "And don't laugh, but I see you guys winning, and I want to win too. To win in love." I whisper the last part because I know it sounds insane. "Or I can just get a cat."

  "We wouldn't laugh at that, sweetie," Harper whispers.

  "And you think you'll win if you change yourself?" Hunter isn't the oldest, but she's the best big sister a girl could have. Her badass stock is rising the more we build Platinum Prestige—our elite concierge service. We started over six years ago. We're not babies in the game anymore, and it shows. We've amassed a small fortune, and it's not stopping.

  “I don’t know, Hunter. I don’t want anything permanent. I honestly love my small tits and small butt.” I shrug. “I’m just curious to see if all this,” I circle my hand around my face and down my body, “is the issue.”

  I'm tatted and pierced because my body is part of my art. I have dreadlocks because I love the ease of not worrying about my hair. Black is my favorite color, not because I'm depressed, but it's easy to pick my clothes with one color palette.

  I work alone most days on my computer except when duty calls for Platinum Prestige. Taylor and I handle the tech for the business, and I design corporate and celebrity apps on the side.

  “For the record, I don’t think you should change a single thing about yourself. Any man stuck on the exterior isn’t worth your time or worthy of your heart.” Ryann crosses her arms. The collective nods from the guys make my eyes water again.

  "Oh, hell, she's crying again." Charlee groans, but I see the tears in her eyes too.

  “I’m a cry baby. Sue me.” We laugh, and an awkward hug across and around the table brings us together. “So will y’all help with this makeover?”

  We sit back, and I wait for an answer.

  “What do you have in mind?” Alex sips her wine.

  “I don’t have a plan. I didn’t get that far.”

  “I got an idea.” Ryann leans forward. “What about Halloween? X is hosting a party at The Dungeon.”

  "Halloween?" I smile. Goth, to me, is like speaking designer clothes with Hunter. It's everything.

  “Halloween?” Charlee rolls her eyes. “She dresses for Halloween every day. All black clothes, black lipstick, black septum ring. What’s different about that?”

  “She has a point. What about the total opposite?” Hunter has that shifty look in her eyes. “Zoe always had a thing for fairies and unicorns.”

  “A Black fairy?” Taylor taps a finger on her chin, I can see the wheels turning from here. “I’ll handle her hair and cover her tats.”

  Hunter nods. "I'll find a dress. Oh…and some wicked heels in fairy tale pink.” They slap high-fives across the table. And the happy dancing begins.

  I'm in awe as each guy takes a role in helping me step outside my comfort zone. This is Black Girl Magic personified. I relax thankful that I finally got these pesky feelings off my chest.

  “So, tell me about this party?” I ask Ryann.

  "Girl, you know X. It's going to be crazy. Live music, food, the works. It's a masquerade ball. So, you'll need to work a pink Venetian mask into your plans." She elbows Taylor, who immediately adds a note to her list. "But get ready for an all-nighter and a good time.”

  Ryann takes a drink of her water and sits back, the smile on her face tells me she's thinking about X. They've been married less than two years, and she's a different person with him. She was once all business. Her conversations were focused and short. But now, she's laid back. The joy of her new life seems to ooze from the glow of her skin to her lighthearted nature. She wears love well.

  "Ryann, will Ryker be there?" Her gaze settles on mine, and I clear my throat.

  “Maybe. Why?”

  “Just asking.” It’s the best noncommittal response I can string together. I twist under Ryann’s intense gaze.

  Ryann introduced me to Ryker, her ex-boss, at her wedding reception. I’ve seen him a couple of times since she left her old law firm. The man is out of my league, but I've never had a guy give me the swooshing feel of gigantic dragons in my stomach.

  “Just asking?” She sucks her teeth, placing her glass on the table. “Should I invite him? Miss Just Asking.”

  “Please.”

  "Is that what this whole makeover is about?" She turns in the booth, dropping her voice to keep the conversation between us. Unlike the other guys, Ryann is the guy to see through walls and calculate the beginning and end of a scenario before a mere mortal can blink an eye. It's her superpower, and it's working tonight.

  "No, and yes." I'm too embarrassed to tell her the truth that going through this would be pointless if there's not a chance that I'd see him again.

  "I'll do it, Jordan. But like my man says, ‘I said what I said.' Any man stupid enough to pass on you isn't worth it." She lifts my chin and stares me straight in the eyes. "Got it?"

  “Got it.”

  We turn back to the shenanigans between the rest of the guys. I'm the youngest at the table. Charlee saved me from a gang of girls bullying me during my freshman year in high school. She threatened to catch a case, and none of them were crazy enough to mess with her. Then the rest of the guys pulled me into their fold.

  They’ve never asked me to change through high school, college, or grad school. I could always count on them, even when my family dismissed me as the “weird one.” My guys never falter like tonight.

  We’re more than friends, we’re family. Which means more than they’ll ever know. I settle in and drop my head on Harper’s shoulder. She wraps a hand around my face with a soft hug before jumping back into the conversation.

  The laughter and smack-talking fade as I think about him. Ryker Colin is nothing like the men I've dated in the past. He's high profile, I'm quiet. He's a managing partner of a prestigious law firm, and I'm an invisible contract programmer. He's the life of the party, and I'm the wallflower.

  Will it work? I don’t know. There’s something about him that makes me want to try. And what if he prefers the fairy tale over goth?

  I guess it’s like coding. You never know what you’ll get until the testing begins.

  I tune back into the chatter around me. As for my makeover, it took them less than twenty minutes to distribute their roles. Leave it to my guys to devise a plan to make me an epic Black fairy for Halloween. That’s Black Girl Magic at its finest.

  Will Ryker take the bait?

  The processor between my ears is trying to workout out the pr
obability of this actually working in my favor. It's insane. It's by far the craziest plan I considered to get a guy's attention. But it's worth a shot.

  Isn’t that the fun of fairy tales? The girl gets the guy. The guy kisses the girl. And they walk off into the horizon, happily ever after.

  Right?

  But the girls in those stories aren’t awkward or tatted. I close my eyes as my heart threatens to leap out of my chest. I have to try. I turn my mind from my internal debate back to the laughter around me.

  Taylor and Charlee stand and have an old school dance-off. They hit the running man, the cabbage patch, and Charlee's bump knocks Taylor out of the game. We clap, and I know without a doubt, my life is good. So, come what may I'll be alone, but all right.

  Ryker’s gentle smile and the touch of his hand activated something in me, and this is my response. My nod to whomever or whatever decides that a man and a woman are meant to have that picture-book ending. So, I’ll leave it to fate to make the next step.

  I can’t guarantee the outcome, but I believe there’s magic involved in this thing called love. My guys are evidence that lovers can meet and marry. Lovers can love and hate and love again. Lovers can accept the loud, the gentle, the highs, the lows. But I can’t have love if I’m not willing to step away from my walls.

  It’s time for the wallflower to bloom or cast a spell, even if only for one night.

  Chapter 2

  “Are you sure about this?” I glance across the table at Erik. My mind runs through thousands of hurdles he’ll need to clear to make this happen. “Running for a state representative seat is a major undertaking.”