Taste of Ms. Alexander

Chapter 2 - A Ride Worth Taking

Amanda Alexander

I must have said exactly what he wanted to hear because a smile stretched across his lips. One that carried a quiet sense of satisfaction. It wasn't just any smile. It was almost as if he had already anticipated my response and was merely waiting for me to confirm it.

Our eyes were locked, and it was as if time seemed to come to a sudden halt, allowing us a few stolen seconds to take each other in, piece by piece. My gaze traveled over him, tracing the angles of his face. His eyes studied me in return as if he was committing every detail to memory.

His locs were freshly re-twisted and gathered into a low ponytail that rested against the back of his neck. His almond shaped eyes, an irresistible shade of golden brown, that resembled that of caramel. The longer I stared, the more dangerous the pull became. Maybe it was too intense because he reacted by raking his fingers through his thick, well groomed beard. A small, subconscious movement that sent a ripple of heat once more up my spine.

In that moment, I wished I had the powers to read minds. Cause what was he really thinking? The tension stretched between us, until he abruptly turned away and left me breathless in his absence. He moved with confidence, a quiet dominance that made it clear he was the kind of man who never had to raise his voice to be heard. Without another word, he grabbed a luggage cart and returned, loading my suitcases onto it.

"U have ah ride or yar tek taxi?" He asked.

His voice, awakened something I hadn't expected. It was the kind of voice you didn't just hear, you felt it. It settled into the air and was the kind you could listen to for hours and hours, yet never grow tired of.

My throat felt dry. "Oh... no. My uncle should be outside," I managed, even though I wasn't convinced.

He nodded once, then gestured for me to follow. His strides were long and purposeful. I practically had to quicken my pace to keep up because my 5'3 frame barely reached his shoulders.

Once we stepped outside, I scanned the crowd, my eyes darted from one unfamiliar face to the next. None resembling my uncle. My stomach twisted in frustration. I had messaged him earlier, but my screen remained void of any response. The thought of taking a taxi wasn't an option. The little cash I had left was for emergencies, and as much as I wanted to justify it, this wasn't an emergency. With a sigh, I clung to my last glimmer of hope and dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail.

"If yuh wah, I go give yuh a ride," he said. His deep voice sliced straight through the chaos in my mind.

I hesitated, "I don't want to inconvenience you. I could just take a taxi."

"Nah, stay dey. Ah coming back," he said before he turned and strode back inside, not even waiting for a response.

For the next ten minutes, I stood there with my arms folded beneath my breast, growing more frustrated by the second. One taxi driver after another approached, asking if I needed a ride.

"Taxi, miss?"

"Need a ride?"

"Way u going?"

At first, I declined politely, but after the fifth or sixth time, annoyance started creeping in. My patience was wearing dangerously thin, and I was on the verge of giving in. It was just to end this ridiculous waiting game, but just as I let the temptation win, a heavily tinted black Suzuki Grand Vitara pulled up in front of me. The bass from the speakers vibrated through the air as Stacy Sobers – Let Me Know blasted from inside. The door swung open, and the driver stepped out.

My mystery man came into view, effortlessly moving with the beat as he walked around to open the trunk. His right hand gripped the handle, but before lifting it, his waist gave a small, deliberate roll that synced perfectly with the rhythm. Then, his lips parted and the lyrics flowed out like second nature. His voice blended so seamlessly with the song.

For a moment, I just stood there, mesmerized. There was something so intoxicating about the way he moved, completely in tune with the music, like the rhythm lived inside him. It was natural and magnetic.

"Leh me kno wen yuh cummin," he blurted out as he mimicked the hook of the song.

I couldn't help but laugh, both amused and intrigued. He danced like no one was watching, like he had not a single care in the world and I liked that about him. So far, anyway. Soon after, he made his way over to load my suitcases into the jeep.

Before he shut the trunk, he threw a glance my way and nodded toward the front seat. "Si dung in de front."

Not one to argue, I slid into the plush leather seat, instantly greeted by the cool blast of the air conditioner. A satisfied smile crept onto my lips as I sank deeper into the comfort, letting the chill erase the heat that had been beating down on me since I exited the airport. Just what I needed.

Then, the scent of Black Ice filled my nostrils. Very subtle, not too overpowering, but just enough to linger. My gaze roamed over the spotless dashboard, the neatly arranged console and the pristine upholstery. Typical Caribbean men and their cars... always well-kept. A second later, he slid into the driver's seat beside me and his presence filled the space.

"What is your name, by the way?" I asked, curiosity finally got the best of me.

He glanced at me with amusement flickering across his face. "Nah tink u likkle late pon asking da?" he teased. "Anthony... bur most people kno mi as Spragga. Way u name, sweet girl?"

As he spoke, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and flipped it open. My brow lifted in curiosity as he retrieved his driver's license and casually extended it toward me. I hesitated for a moment before taking it, our fingers brushed ever so slightly. I glanced down at the card and scanned over the details. So, mystery man finally has a name. Anthony Maurice Sutherland.

"Tek ah picture and send it gi one ah ur fren dem. Carr mi nah hav no intentions fi kidnap u," he responded bluntly. Though his tone carried a hint of playfulness.

I simply smirked, that wasn't what I was concerned about. My eyes darted straight to the date of birth. October 31st, 1993. Anthony was only four years older than I was.

"Yo know u real funny," I said as I gave him back his ID. "My name is Amanda."

"Ah jus mekin sure u feel safe, baby girl." There was a subtle smirk in his voice as he slid his wallet back into his pocket. "Way par yuh live?"

"I'm going to Brighton. I'll just direct you on the way."

He glanced at me, as if silently asking for approval to proceed, then nodded before rewinding the song once again. The familiar beat filled the jeep, and I couldn't help but smirk. He really loved this song.

Leh mi kno wen yuh cummin
Dis is how ah does cum
Leh mi kno wen yuh cummin
Bam bam!
Mek yuh cum inna de mawnin
Bam bam!
Mek yuh cum inna de evenin
Bam bam!
Gyel yuh kno yuh ah mi dawlin
Bam bam!
An yuh hurtin mi feelings
Bam bam!
So long yuh ha mi waitin
Bam bam!
Ah kno mi pipe line leakin

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he sang along, completely lost in the rhythm. Then, he turned the keys in the ignition, and the engine rumbled to life. With a smooth shift of the gears, we were on our way. I exhaled, finally allowing myself to relax. This was really happening.

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Author's Note:

-This is not the final draft of this book.

-Please excuse any grammatical errors as they'll be corrected later on.

-Feel free to express your thoughts by leaving a comment.