pure, brown skin bride | Suds 3

pure, Suds 3 | Season Premiere

{Welcome back to Suds Season 3!! New here? No problem. Jump right in to this stand-alone-friendly love story. No pre-reading necessary, so, let's get everyone up to speed.

Last time on Suds, the crew graduated from undergrad. All except the newbie, Lalique, who developed a brow-raising "friendship" with Terrance. No less confusing than the quasi-proposal Sylus left Shantel with before he was gone with the wind. Meanwhile, Leilah and Darien got back together. And Mira flew to Spain where the almost Doctor-Professor, Alejandro, swept her off her feet. Oh sweet love.

And big welcome back hugs 🤗🤗🤗 to the best readers a writer could ever have. Hi, my boos!! Oh how I missed you ❤️❤️❤️ See you in the comments section!!

Now, let's fast forward six years later. Wedding bells are ringing.
Ready, Set. . . Suds!!

~

Nerves bubbled in the pit of her stomach as LALIQUE flitted through the kitchen. She flipped the fried chicken in the cast iron pot, smiling at her golden brown creations. Then she stirred the greens and pulled the baked macaroni and cheese from the oven.

Forcing out a breath, she wiped her hands on the wide apron wrapped trice around her waist. Her mind bounced through possibilities. His surprise might be that he would be stationed in the Chicago area. Her lips curved into a smile. The six months he'd been away for training would be worthwhile if he came back home for good.

Then her smile waned. Or maybe he wanted more from their friendship. She shook away the thought. Terrance was like her brother. He would never cross that line. Regret tugged at her bottom lip.

Lique shook it off and surveyed his welcome home feast. Less than a breath later, her favorite recurring daydream invaded her thoughts. His lips lingering on hers, innocent like always. Then parted, finally giving her a taste of him. A smile snuck across her plump lips and her ruddy skin sparkled like copper.

Lost in the wistful moment, she plunked her hands into the waiting dishwater and washed another batch of soiled cooking utensils.

"You sure you don't need any help?" his mother asked, shuffling over to the stove. Mrs. Holt inhaled the soulful scents wafting through her kitchen, eying the caramel cake.

Lique grinned. "I'm just about finished."
"Maybe you missed him more than I did," Mrs. Holt teased.
Lique grinned. "Missed big head? Never."
"You got the slow cooker going, too?"
Lique nodded. "He likes the ribs tender."
His mother chuckled. "Chile, it's bout time you let my boy know where to put that ring."
Lique's cheeks warmed. "Momma, how many times do we have to tell you."
"I know. I know," she said, planting a kiss on Lalique's cheek. "Just wishful thinking."

The doorbell rang.
Mrs. Holt clasped her hands together, rushing toward the front door. "It's him."
Just as the round woman reached the door, his key twisted, and the door opened.
"Son," she squealed with delight.
"What's up, Momma."

His voice tiptoed across Lique's skin. Time stood still. And the temperature spiked a hundred degrees.

She fumbled, stripping off the apron. Then she checked her lipstick in the toaster and raked manicured fingertips through her silk pressed hair.

"It smells good up in here," Terrance said. His heavy feet thumped down the hallway in tandem with her quickened heartbeat.

Lique balled the lipstick into the apron, and hid them in a drawer. Then she smoothed her distressed jeans in place, hoping he'd like them, and busied herself with placing the crispy chicken into a large serving bowl.