She Said Yes (Falling For A Rose Book 6) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  She Said Yes

  Falling for a Rose

  A Holiday Edition

  By

  Stephanie Nicole Norris

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  More Books by Stephanie Nicole Norris

  About the Author

  Note from the Publisher: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead or references to locations, persons, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters, circumstances and events are imaginative and not intended to reflect real events.

  She said Yes

  Falling for A Rose Book Six

  Copyright 2017 Stephanie Nicole Norris

  Love is a Drug, Ink.

  All Rights Reserved and Proprietary.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form or format, without written permission from Author. Send all requests via email to [email protected].

  Dedication

  Thank you, reading family. I appreciate you every day, and remember this, you’re never too old to get your groove back. *wink*

  Chapter One

  The click-clack of the Christian Louboutin spiked heels announced Samiyah’s presence when she walked through the door of her mother’s three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom townhome. Composed in a black blouse and dark denim jeans, Samiyah removed her double-breasted coat and flung it over the sofa as she strolled through in search of Martha Jean.

  Stepping into view, Martha Jean held up a .22 magnum revolver aimed at Samiyah.

  “Mom!” Samiyah screeched, holding up her hands. “Don’t shoot. It’s me!”

  Slowly, Martha Jean lowered her weapon. “You better say something when you come through my door then. You know I don’t play that.”

  At 54, Martha Jean was a force to be reckoned with. She pocketed her gun and plastered a smile on her gracefully aging face.

  “What brings you here today, baby?” she asked.

  “Why do you have a gun?”

  Martha Jean frowned. “To protect myself, why else?” she said as if it were common sense.

  “From who, this is a good neighborhood. Jonas and I would’ve never moved you here if we didn’t think so.”

  Martha Jean shrugged. “I don’t know these people around here, and I’m a single woman living alone. Would you rather me pretend crime doesn’t happen, even in the best of places? Or would you rather me be prepared just in case?”

  Samiyah couldn’t argue with her mother there.

  “I’m just saying, Mom. I don’t want you to make a mistake and shoot your only child one day. I’d like to live to see my children’s children.”

  At the mention of Samiyah’s pregnancy, Martha Jean smiled. “You mean you want to be able to see your grandkids,” she corrected.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “No, you said children’s children.”

  “That’s the same thing, Momma. I’d just rather call it a glam mom or something. I’m too young to be anybody’s grandmother.”

  Martha Jean chuckled. “You won’t be by the time those babies are grown.” She twirled around and left the hallway, walking back into the room she’d sprung out of.

  Samiyah followed her into what Martha Jean called her “makeup room.” It was a full bedroom designed just for Martha Jean’s vanity area. She swore when Jonas and Samiyah moved her in that it was imperative that she have one. There was floor to ceiling mirrors attached to the walls, and half of the room was used as a storage closet. Whenever her mother was inside, Samiyah figured she was playing dress up. But today she wondered what her mother was up to.

  “What are you doing in here, got a hot date or something?” Samiyah asked.

  “For your information,” Martha Jean’s lips rose into a pleasant smile, “I do.”

  Samiyah arched a brow and sat her hands on her hips. “With who and why haven’t I been introduced to this person?”

  “Oh honey, you know him. Very well.”

  Samiyah gave her mother a pensive look. “Please tell me this has nothing to do with my father-in-law.”

  Martha wiggled her eyebrows. “Why not? We can make him your real daddy after I’m through with him.”

  Samiyah groaned. Ever since she and Jonas married, Martha Jean had been flirty with Jonas’ father Christopher Lee Rose. The man had never shown any interest in Martha Jean, only doing things that were in his nature, like being polite, offering her a helping hand when she was around, and being the charismatic gentleman that he was. It was easy to be charmed by such a man. If Christopher’s sons were a mirror of him, Samiyah could only imagine the type of enchantment Christopher could have over a woman. Especially if he could have butterflies dancing around Martha Jean’s head. The woman had been a brute and sworn off men for so long Samiyah was sure she would be alone for the rest of her life.

  But to Samiyah’s horror, Martha Jean was smitten with Christopher. Imagine that. “I thought you swore off men?” Samiyah said, watching her mother apply mascara to her eyes.

  “I never said that,” Martha Jean remarked.

  Samiyah scoffed. “Lies,” she said.

  Martha Jean turned toward her only child. “Did you just call your mother a liar?”

  “I did. I’ve been on the receiving end of too many of your rants for you to stand there and blatantly lie in my face.” At the scathing look on Martha Jean’s face, Samiyah crossed her arms and stuck to her guns. “You can’t get me to backtrack because of that look. I said what I said. You’re lying. Why do you all of a sudden want a man?”

  “Well, I am a woman,” Martha Jean scolded. “I did have you, didn’t I? My body still works, hell.” Martha Jean turned back to her mirror and continued to apply the mascara.

  Rolling her eyes and unfolding her arms, Samiyah stepped in, taking the makeup out of Martha Jean’s hands to help her complete the look.

  “And besides,” Martha Jean continued, “it’s not any man that I want. It’s that fine ass father-in-law of yours.”

  Samiyah couldn’t help but smirk. “Mom, really?” she said as she continued to apply Martha’s foundation.

  “Mmhmm, yes, really. You’ll have sisters and brothers in no time.”

  “Eww, Mom!”

  “What?” her mother shouted along with her. “Don’t you want siblings? You used to complain all the time when you were young. So now that you’re all grown and stuff you’ve changed your mind?”

  Samiyah blew out a huge breath. “Mom, I have sisters and brothers. I have six brothers and seven sisters now. I don’t need you going and making more, but thanks for thinking of me,” she said sarcastically.

  Martha Jean rolled her eyes. “You’re an only child, I don’t know where all of these make-believe children are you’re speaking of.”

  “Whether you want
to acknowledge them or not, Jonas’ brothers are now my brothers and his sisters, along with Claudia, Octavia, Santana, and Desiree. Did you forget about them?”

  “Claudia, Octavia, Santana, and Desiree married into the family. They don’t count as real in-laws.”

  Samiyah sat the makeup compact down and stared at her mother head-on. “Don’t you ever say that in public, especially around them. I have a hard enough time apologizing for your rudeness when you just let stuff fly out of your mouth.”

  “Well stop apologizing for me then. I didn’t ask you for any favors.”

  “But I’m asking you for some. Please, for the love of God, don’t.”

  Martha Jean stuck her lips out as Samiyah grabbed a comb and took it through Martha’s thin gray strands that fell to her shoulders.

  “I love this color on you, by the way,” Samiyah said in reference to the straight silver strands.

  Martha Jean perked up. “I do, too. My hairdresser is fantastic.”

  “Stylist, Mom.”

  “What?” Martha Jean said.

  “It’s called a stylist, not a hairdresser.”

  Martha Jean poked her lip out. “I’m old school, and back in my day, we called them hairdressers not all this modern age new stuff y’all got going on.”

  Samiyah sat the comb down. “Come on, Ma, let’s go.”

  It was December fifteenth, ten days before Christmas, and Samiyah had shown up to take Martha Jean to their tailor so she could be fitted for a custom gown for the Jan’s Roses gala at the end of the week. Jan’s Roses was a nonprofit organization devoted to assisting families of home invasions.

  It was dedicated to Jonas’ late mother Janet Rose, who passed away from a home invasion.

  Martha Jean retrieved the handheld mirror and twirled to check out the back of her hair and get a close up of her makeup.

  Samiyah still couldn’t believe Martha Jean was smitten with a man. Any man. Never in her thirty-four years would she have ever expected it.

  “You look fine, let’s go,” Samiyah reiterated.

  “Mmhmm, I’ll be the judge of that,” Marth Jean quipped.

  “You act like you’re going to see him today or something.”

  “I plan to facetime him as soon as you show me how to work this iPhone.”

  “I wasn’t aware you had his number.”

  Martha Jean smiled deviously. “I don’t tell you everything.” She turned and left the room. “Come on,” she said, tossing the words behind her.

  “Lord have mercy,” Samiyah said. “Fix It, Jesus,” she whispered, walking into the hallway behind her mother.

  “No need to call on the Lord,” Martha Jean surmised. “Jesus is all about family, and I’m trying to give you a bigger one.” Samiyah cringed on the inside. She hoped her mother wouldn’t get too happy about being the one for Christopher Lee Rose.

  The man had been single since his wife died over twenty years ago, and for some reason, Samiyah didn’t think it would be her mother’s outstanding persona that would win him over. However, what did she know? Samiyah was simply hoping beyond hope that Martha Jean wouldn’t further embarrass herself, or her child.

  “Just so you know, I think Adeline has a thing for Christopher, too,” Samiyah said in the hopes that Martha Jean would slow her roll, but that seemed to boost her sails.

  Turning sharply, Martha Jean folded her arms. “That old hag ain’t got nothing on me. Christopher would be a fool to even slightly consider her.”

  Adeline Stevens was Samiyah’s best friend Claudia’s mother. “I think she’s the same age as you, so you might want to hold off on the old jokes.”

  Martha puffed. “Whose child are you?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be on my side. And no, that old hag,” Martha said, bucking her eyes, “is like ninety-eight or something.”

  Samiyah fell into a guffaw. Crossing her hands over her stomach, she laughed heartily as they stepped outside on the front porch, and Martha locked her door.

  “What’s so funny?” Martha said.

  “You are.” Samiyah wrapped her arm within Martha Jean’s. “You know good and well that Adeline isn’t ninety-eight. You’re just being catty.”

  “Hmph, could’ve fooled me,” she grumbled as they stepped off the porch, headed for the boutique.

  Chapter Two

  “Mom, you don’t have to walk with a cane. Your walker is just fine, and you look more comfortable using it. Why do you want to use the cane all of a sudden?”

  Claudia Stevens asked the question to her spicy sixty-year-old mother Adeline Stevens, even though Claudia had a frightening feeling she knew the reason.

  “I’m trying to be more independent,” Adeline said. “I don’t want to use a walker. It’s a crutch. A woman should be able to stand on her own two feet. What will happen when I bring home your new father if I can’t make it to the bathroom without the help of some prop?”

  “Seriously, Mom, any man who deserves you would understand that you need the support. Using a walker is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Adeline said, continuing to brace most of her weight on the cane as she walked.

  They were in Claudia and Jaden’s three-story colonial home on the second level. After purchasing the lavish house, Jaden had turned one of the larger spaces into Adeline’s physical therapy room. At first, Adeline had put up a major fight, arguing that she didn’t need a whole room to help her out. That was six months ago. Now, Claudia couldn’t seem to get her out of the room. Whenever Claudia would go looking for her mother, she would stop there first, and most time, it’s where she would find Adeline.

  “Why don’t you wait until your therapist gets here so that you can get the most out of your time?”

  Adeline turned her nose up at Claudia. “For what, so she can say, ‘Put one foot in front of the other. Now how does the weight feel on that leg? If it hurts, don’t force it. Take a load off and try again’?” Adeline mocked. “As if I don’t know that already.” Adeline shook her head. “What are you all paying her for anyway? I can do this by myself.”

  Claudia wasn’t going to fight with Adeline this morning. Last night, Claudia and Jaden had made love until the sun came up. She couldn’t say she was shocked to see him rise a few hours later, take a shower, and leave for Rose Bank and Trust Credit Union. As if he couldn’t take it easy. But he had, and Claudia had reveled in the soreness that thumped from her center. A smile spread across her face as she thought back to her husband’s washboard abs and the muscular thighs that grazed her flesh with each thrust inside her. A shiver ran through her, and Claudia bit down on her lip.

  “What are you smiling about?” Adeline quipped. “If it’s nasty, don’t tell me.”

  “Okay, then, I won’t tell you,” Claudia said, sticking her tongue out.

  “That’s what I’m trying to be like. I need somebody to blow these old bones out, too.”

  “Ewww!” Claudia shrieked, mortified.

  “What are you talking about ewww for, child? Who you think came up with that little booty shaking dance I see you doing on my son-in-law? Me, that’s who,” Adeline fussed. “I was popping this thang on ya daddy before anybody knew what a twerk was.”

  “This is so not the conversation I came here to have with you this morning,” Claudia said.

  “Okay then, what is the conversation? Because from what I can see, you came in here to look over my shoulder and daydream.”

  Claudia twisted her lips. “I came in here because Desiree and I are going to get fitted for our gowns for the Jan’s Roses fundraiser this weekend, and you need to come with us. It’s a wonder that the tailor can have our dresses ready the day before, but if we don’t make it to her today, we’ll have to buy something off the rack.”

  “What’s wrong with buying something off the rack? That’s how you’ve always shopped. Now that you’ve married a multimillionaire, you can’t pick up a dress at the regular stores?”

  Claudia pursed her lips and
held back the expletive she wanted to shout.

  “Of course I can, but why would I want to when I can have a dress made to fit my curves exactly? And,” Claudia said, “on top of that, with my man being a multimillionaire and all, I need and want to dress top shelf.”

  “Hmm, I guess,” Adeline said, taking slow steps with her cane.

  Claudia pulled her wrist up to glance at her watch.

  “In thirty minutes, Desiree will be pulling up. Can I count on you to be ready by then?”

  Adeline mumbled something incoherent.

  “What was that?” Claudia asked.

  “I won’t make any promises.”

  “If you’re not ready, then I’ll have to take you to get something off the rack. And how can you make your best impression on Christopher if you’re not dressed in the best?” Knowing that would get her attention, Claudia eased a mischievous smile on her face.

  Adeline stopped walking with the cane and glanced up to her daughter as an easy smile also spread across her face. “Under one condition,” Adeline said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I want some of that filler stuff people put in their lips and face to make their wrinkles go away.”

  Claudia’s eyes stretched. “Botox?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s what it’s called.”

  Claudia didn’t know how to feel. Her mother was asking for Botox injections. She was seriously taking it all the way to impress Christopher.

  “You don’t need Botox. A little foundation, some eyeliner and a pop of lipstick will bring out your already sharp features, Mom.” Claudia stepped closer to her mother. “Don’t you dare be insecure. Don’t you know you’re beautiful?”

  Adeline sucked her lips in. “Of course, I know I’m beautiful, I also know I have wrinkles, and no amount of makeup is going to hide that fact. Now, are you going to get me the Botox or not?”

  Before Claudia could respond, Adeline went further. “If you don’t, I’ll do it myself. Might take me longer to find what I need, but I’m not a reject. I can handle it.”

  Claudia could only shake her head. “I’ll ask Desiree and see what she says.”