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Tender to His Touch
Adrianne Byrd


Hollington Homecoming Queen Beverly Turner is pulling out all the stops for her ten-year reunion. The trendy designer's first order of business is to let loose and have some fun. And her wish just might come true when she meets Lucius Gray. The hunky, high-powered Atlanta attorney is looking for the same thing she is: a sexy fling with no strings.Lucius needs a time-out from his workaholic life, and the chic, sensual designer more than fits the bill. Like Beverly, the single father has been burned by love. But Beverly is arousing feelings that are making him long to turn their sizzling affair into a lifetime of passion. If she'll let him, he'll give her the happy ending she deserves and prove to this unforgettable woman that there is life–and love–after college….









Their eyes locked and Beverly’s body submitted to an overpowering magnetic pull.


At the sight of Lucius’s head descending, the muscles in her belly quivered and her heart pounded so loud she feared the whole world could hear it. When their lips finally made contact, Beverly’s eyes fluttered close and once again, she was lost.

However, this time was different. In her mind, not only could she hear music but there was this wonderful floating sensation that made her feel lush and giddy. She pressed closer, greedy for more.

Lucius eagerly gave her what she wanted—what they both wanted. He had spent the evening wondering what she would taste like and he wasn’t disappointed. Her lips were amazingly soft and decadently sweet. A man, if he wasn’t too careful, could get caught up.


ADRIANNE BYRD

is a national bestselling author who has always preferred to live within the realms of her imagination, where all the men are gorgeous and the women are worth whatever trouble they manage to get into. As an army brat, she traveled throughout Europe and learned to appreciate and value different cultures. Now, she calls Georgia home.

Ms. Byrd has been featured in many national publications, including Today’s Black Woman, Upscale and Heart and Soul. She has also won local awards for screenwriting.

In 2006 Adrianne Byrd forged into the world of Street Lit as De’nesha Diamond. In 2008 she jumped into the young-adult arena writing as A. J. Byrd, and in 2010 Adrianne will hit the women’s fiction scene as Layla Jordan. She plans to continue creating characters that make people smile, laugh and fall in love.




Tender to His Touch

Adrianne Byrd





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This book is dedicated to: Sandra Kitt, Jacqueline Thomas and Pamela Yaye. It was a pleasure working with you talented ladies.


Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Hollington College! This is the final book in this sexy, emotional reunion series. Next up: Beverly Turner and Lucius Gray. As Hollington’s class of ’99 homecoming queen, Beverly seems to have lived a fairy tale existence. But once she married her college sweetheart, it all turned into a nightmare. Now ten years later, she’s looking for a new start and I believe I have just the man for her.

You might want to curl up next to an industrial fan for this one, romantics. You’re in for one hot, spicy read as Lucius helps this beauty find her own groove. Maybe there are even a few clues we can all learn from this insatiable couple.

Wishing you the best of love,

Adrianne




Contents


Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue




Prologue


Beverly Clark’s eyes were wide open when her alarm clock blared at five-thirty. She flung out an arm and shut off its loud and annoying buzz. However, she didn’t climb out of bed. Instead she remained nestled in her white cotton sheets, staring up at her popcorn ceiling.

She hated that damn ceiling.

It reminded her of cottage cheese or, worse, something she used to study under a microscope in her old science lab class eons ago. One of these days she was going to take Spackle or a chisel to the damn thing and scrape that junk off. Beverly huffed, rolled over onto her side and stared at the clock. Its loud ticking sounded as if it had been hooked up to an amplifier. In no time her heart and the muscles along her temples thumped in precise harmony.

Maybe she should just stay in bed today.

Why not? What difference would it make? It wasn’t as if anybody cared—or that she had anything to do.

The numbers on the clock blurred and in the next second warm tears slid from her eyes, rolled down her nose, then dripped quietly onto her pillowcase. She pulled in a deep breath, but her lungs felt as if they were trying to resist being revived. Her shoulders trembled and before long her entire body followed suit. It was five forty-five in the morning and she was crying.

A whole fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

Reluctantly Beverly peeled the sheets back and pulled herself up. Those two simple acts nearly zapped all her energy. From across the room, she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror and was repulsed by what she saw.

“Oh, God.” She raised a hand to her sunken face while her fingers traced the deep lines below her bloodshot eyes. Her full lips looked bee-stung and cracked, and her hair…well, let’s just say that it would probably be easier to cut it than comb it. Her hands fell from her face and slapped against her lap. “Look at what’s become of me.”

Being the daughter of two prominent doctors, Beverly had grown up in an affluent and privileged life. Friends and family had told her throughout the years that she’d been lucky to have inherited her mother’s honey-brown complexion and liquid-gold eyes. In her youth, the combination had made her popular with the opposite sex and garnered more than a few sniping remarks from girls who’d assumed she was stuck-up. Those opinions usually changed, though, once people got to know her.

Beauty and charm helped land her the Miss Georgia Teen crown at sixteen and the Miss Georgia crown at eighteen. Plus she was also homecoming queen in both high school and in college. She was smart, too—at least she liked to think she was. She had managed to graduate in the top of her class and at one time had given serious thought to following her parents’ example and enrolling in medical school. But after an art teacher pointed out she had a natural flair for fashion, Beverly started spending hours upon hours daydreaming that one day her fashions would be worn on red carpets around the world.

But love intervened and she ended up marrying her old high-school sweetheart, David Clark, right after college despite the protests of her parents. It didn’t matter at the time. Surely her parents could grow to love her husband.

David had been a year older and, once upon a time, more mature. They had been so careful planning out their lives. He’d continued his schooling and become a dentist. It turned out to be a great decision. His career had afforded them a great life in the suburbs, but three years ago it all came crashing to an end.

More tears leaked from Beverly’s eyes.

From a distance, a car turned into the driveway. She turned her head toward the open window and listened to the smooth rumble of a Mercedes engine as it coasted toward the house. Beverly wiped her face and reached for her satin robe draped over the foot of her bed.

Beneath the window, the engine shut off, the car door opened and then slammed shut. The familiar footfalls of expensive Ferragamo loafers slapped against the pavement and then up the front porch. Beverly stood when she heard keys rattle in the front-door lock.

Inside the house, the heavy footsteps continued through the foyer and then up the staircase. Beverly tried to mentally prepare herself for her daily battle, but on this day she found that she simply couldn’t. She just didn’t have anything left.

The knob turned and the bedroom door crept open. David poked his head inside, his attention on the empty bed.

“Glad to see that you found your way home,” Beverly said, her wintry voice chilling the room. “And here I thought buying that GPS unit was a complete waste of money.”

Unable to hide his disappointment, David released a long, frustrated sigh. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”

“I haven’t slept in years.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled his wrinkled tie from around his neck. “Maybe that’s your problem.” David headed toward the adjoining bathroom.

“My problem?” she said, her eyes narrowing on his retreating back. Beverly followed. “Maybe my problem is that my husband is out screwing his office manager at all hours of the night while I’m stuck in this suburban prison cooking dinners for one.”

“There you go again. No one’s screwing around,” he said. “And I’m not stopping you from getting out of the house. That’s your choice. In fact, I wish you would get out. Maybe the neighbors would stop looking at me as if I’ve chained you up in the basement or something.” He turned on the shower.

“No one’s screwing around,” she thundered incredulously.

“Do I look stupid to you?” she hissed. “It is six o’clock in the morning. Nearly twelve hours since the office closed yesterday. Are you going to tell me that you had some dental emergency that kept you at the office and strategically away from a phone all this time?”

His eyes rolled again as he unbuttoned and then slid out of his pants. “I went out for a few drinks with the guys. I crashed over at Curtis’s place.”

David finally stopped and looked at her. Guilt was etched in every inch of his handsome face. The same face that she’d once vowed to love for the rest of her life. She now longed to rake her nails down its gorgeous perfection. Why did it seem as if the nightmare of the last three years had not scared him the way it had her? Why was it so easy for him to just move on? If they were truly soul mates why weren’t they living in the same hell?

“What?” David asked defensively.

“If you’re going to be a playa, then learn to get your lies straight.”

“I told you—”

“Curtis called here last night looking for you. He wanted to know whether you two were still going fishing today.”

Thick clouds of steam billowed from the shower, then swirled around the fractured husband and wife. The battle of their heated gazes raged on for a few heartbreaking seconds and then finally, resignation flickered across David’s face. He’d been busted and his brain failed to come up with a plausible lie.

“Just admit it,” she urged in a thin whisper. She half convinced herself that she would feel better if he’d just confess that he’d been having an affair. Confess that the perfume clinging to his clothes right now wasn’t just her imagination.

“Beverly—”

“Say it,” she choked out.

“Bev—”

“Goddamn it, say it!” She snatched a curling iron from the vanity counter and hurled it at him. The bastard ducked and the curling iron slammed against the glass shower stall. It hit a weak spot and the whole thing shattered as if she had unloaded an AK-47 at it.

David leaped away from the shower as shards of glass launched toward him. “All right! All right! I’m having an affair. Are you happy now?” he roared.

Beverly sucked in a breath and stepped back as if he’d punched her. Her mind reeled. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to hit him, scratch him or kick him in the balls.

As he realized what he had said, regret blanketed David’s face. He reached for her. “Beverly, I—”

“Don’t touch me.” She pulled away. “I want you out. Out of this house and out of my life!”

“Look, Beverly. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s over.” She took another huge step back, shaking her head. “I want a divorce,” she said evenly.

He wouldn’t give up. “We’ve been through a lot,” he reminded her. “We can get through this.”

“No, we can’t,” she contradicted. “We can’t…because I don’t love you anymore.”




Chapter 1


Two years later

A jacketless and tieless Lucius Gray was nearing his tenth hour poring over documents and case files. He kept telling himself that he’d quit for the day—or rather, night—every ten minutes, but his determination to know this wrongful death case backward and forward prevented him from leaving. He wanted all his ducks in a row so he could squeeze Dr. E. J. Stewart and his insurance company into settling the case for a mid-eight-figure settlement.

It wasn’t one of his biggest litigation cases, but this particular case hit him hard. The similarities between Mr. Keith Johnson’s death and Lucius’s father’s were just too striking. Dr. Stewart, a cardiologist, kept finding nothing wrong with Mr. Johnson a year after he had a stint implanted and recommended he see an oncologist for his illness. Of course the oncologist found nothing wrong with him and kept referring him back to his cardiologist. All the while, Mr. Johnson’s condition grew worse and worse. When he finally passed away, the autopsy showed that he had a lot of blockages in his arteries and his poor heart just gave out. There were so many of them that it was just unexplainable how Dr. Stewart had missed the obvious.

What did it say about the state of the health-care system when doctors were just too busy to do their jobs?

The phone chirped.

Lucius glanced up, annoyed to have had his concentration broken. He punched the speakerphone button. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Gray, I have your wife on line one.”

He frowned. “You mean my ex-wife, don’t you, Maggie?”

“I’m just repeating what she said.”

Lucius drew a deep breath and pitched back into his chair. Until that moment, he hadn’t noticed how hungry he was or how tight his neck muscles had become.

“Mr. Gray?”

“Put her through,” he said and expelled a tired breath. In the next second the phone rang and he picked up. “What can I do for you, Erica?”

“You haven’t been able to do anything for me in a looooonnng time,” she answered in her usual sarcastic tone.

He rolled his eyes. “I really don’t have time to fight with you right now. So—”

“I know. I know,” Erica huffed. “You’re working on a really important case. The story of our marriage.”

“So you kept reminding me through the divorce.” Lucius’s office door crept open and he looked up in time to see Maggie poke her head inside. He didn’t miss the tired lines beneath her eyes or how her morning curls had wilted on her head. “Erica, hold on for a moment.” He hit the phone’s mute button without waiting for his ex-wife’s permission.

“I’m getting ready to head out,” Maggie said. “Is there anything else you need?”

Lucius glanced at his watch. It was well past seven o’clock. “No. I’m good. Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Maggie nodded and then disappeared back behind the door.

Lucius drew a deep breath and hit the mute button again. “I’m back.”

“I can’t bring Ruby this weekend. It’ll have to be next weekend.”

Lucius’s grip tightened on the phone. In the five years since his divorce, he and Erica kept playing the same game with their now eight-year-old daughter—the emotional blackmail game. And now that Erica had a new man, Andrew, in her life, she seemed steadfastly determined to have this jerk take Lucius’s place. “You said that last weekend, Erica.”

“It was true last weekend, too,” Erica snorted. “And don’t act like you’re so disappointed.”

“I made plans,” he said, though it wasn’t exactly true. He’d planned to wing it. Maybe take Ruby to Chuck E. Cheese or a movie or something.

“Please.” He could practically see Erica rolling her eyes. “Buying her a bunch of junk food and dragging her to your office isn’t exactly a trip to Disney World.”

Great. She played a guilt card. “It was just that one time.”

“Uh-huh,” she said dubiously. “Like I said, I can’t bring her this weekend. Andrew wants to take Ruby up to Boston.”

“Boston?” Lucius barked, irritated. “What the hell is in Boston?”

“Andrew is from Boston…and we’re going up to meet his family.”

Silence.

“Lucius?”

“So…what? This relationship is getting serious?” He was surprised by his annoyance.

“Maybe,” she hedged, her tone finally softening.

Lucius closed his eyes and then rubbed the tension from his forehead. It wasn’t that he still harbored romantic feelings toward his ex-wife. It was more that the threat of him being replaced in Ruby’s life with another man was becoming a reality at a pace that made him more than uncomfortable. “C’mon, Erica. How long have you known this guy? Two months—three?”

“A year,” she corrected him.

Had a year passed that quickly?

“Of course, if you ever pulled your head out from your…work, you’d see that life was passing you by.”

Lucius heaved another frustrated sigh. “Can we not fight tonight? I have a headache.”

“Fine.”

The line fell silent, but the tension remained. Finally he said, “I don’t know if I like this.”

Erica chuckled. “Don’t tell me that I’ve finally done something to catch your attention.”

“Is that what this is all about—getting my attention?”

Her laugh deepened. “Please. I’ve stopped trying to do that a long time ago. You made it perfectly clear that your work is all that matters to you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It feels true.” Another awkward silence drifted over the line. “I’ll bring Ruby next weekend,” she said and then disconnected the line.

Lucius held the phone until the automated voice came on and instructed him on how to make a call. “That went well,” he mumbled under his breath. He settled back in his chair, replaying the call in his head and wishing he had handled the situation better. But what had been obvious for many years now was, point-blank, he and Erica just rubbed each other the wrong way.

His gaze fell on a framed photograph of his precocious daughter, Ruby. He struggled to remember exactly how old she was in the picture—maybe four or five. It was an adorable picture of her with her thick black hair parted into two fat ponytails. On the day of the picture, she was so proud to show off the loss of her two front teeth. Her big quarter-size hazel eyes danced with excitement at the possibility of seeing the Tooth Fairy.

Lucius reached over his desk and picked up the photograph. Instantly, his irritation and annoyance at Erica melted away and a broad smile broke across his face. Ruby was a perfect amalgam of him and Erica. She had his warm brown complexion and hazel eyes and Erica’s button nose and full lips. “Daddy’s little girl,” he whispered, feeling his chest swell with pride.

Ruby Elizabeth Gray was the absolute joy of his life—despite what her mother thought. Sure, he had been thrown out of his element from time to time by tea parties with imaginary guests or playing baby dolls with dolls that actually did number one and number two. However, most of that came from the fact Lucius grew up in a family dominated by men.

It had been a real shock to him when the doctor told him and Erica that they were going to have a girl. He didn’t know what to do with a girl. Up until that ultrasound, he had envisioned mock football and basketball games with Junior. Instead he got a little girl that stole his heart like no other. And he was a better man for it.

Lucius slowly rocked his neck from side to side, but his tense muscles refused to relax and his empty stomach rumbled in protest. Sighing with regret, he knew that it was finally time to call it a night. Propelling out of his chair, he quickly stuffed the case files into his briefcase, slid on his office jacket and crammed his tie into his pocket.

As he exited the building of Kendall, Hendrix and Gray, LLC, he contemplated which fast-food drive-through he was in the mood for. Once behind the wheel of his black Cadillac SRX Crossover, he elected instead to finish off some leftovers he had back at the crib. He’d always been careful to take care of his body through regular exercise and a healthy diet, and there was no need to wreck all that for a greasy burger.

It was well past eight o’clock by the time he finally pulled into his large two-car garage. As usual when he headed toward the garage door that led into the kitchen, he tossed a longing look toward his old wood workshop. His man space, as Erica used to call it. How long had it been now since he’d lost himself in the hobby of building things—six years…seven?

He had always enjoyed working and making things with his hands. It had a way of relaxing him. However, with the influx of bank and credit fraud, his law firm had enjoyed a healthy spike in litigation and court cases. There just hadn’t been any time to whittle the hours away in his workshop.

Soon, he promised himself. He’d make the time one day soon.

Lucius entered the house, flipped on the light switch, placed his briefcase on the counter and made a beeline toward the refrigerator. Thirty minutes later he was settled at the dinner table and casually sifting through the day’s mail. He stopped when he came across the envelope from Hollington College.

His smile was instant. “Hollington.” He chuckled, opening the envelope. “My old stomping grounds.” Suddenly memories of football and frat parties filled his head, as well as the small string of college shawties he’d juggled while struggling to maintain his high GPA.

“‘October homecoming weekend,’” he read. His eyes quickly scanned over the invitation card. “Tenth anniversary? Has it been that long already?” He shook his head. Where had all the time gone? Thinking about it, a lot had happened in ten years: marriage, law school, law practice, a baby, working like hell, making partner, working like hell, divorce, working like hell.

There was a theme in there somewhere.

“All work and no play make Lucius a dull man,” he whispered. He glanced up and truly took stock of the empty dining-room chairs surrounding the table. Outside, the evening crickets played their songs while his expensively furnished house felt awfully cold…and lonely.

His gaze shifted back to the invitation. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. A little time out with some old friends…and old girlfriends.



“Beverly, what do you mean you’re not going to the reunion?” Kyra asked, her hands propped on her slender hips. “This is a big weekend for the university and I’m counting on you to be there.”

“I don’t see why,” Beverly said, straightening a rack of embellished skirts. Her trendy, high-end boutique, Hoops, was on North Highland Avenue and a steady stream of twentysomethings flowed into the store and left carrying enormous white shopping bags with the dainty Hoops logo. The sparkly chandelier, golden cherubs and tasteful furniture lent a chic, intimate feel to the place. “Aside from you and a couple of other people, I haven’t kept in touch with anyone from our graduating class.”

“Beverly, you were homecoming queen and everyone’s expecting you to be there.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m not going.”

“Give me one good reason why you can’t go.”

“I’ll give you three. For starters, I’m swamped here.” Selecting a dazzling sheath from off the rack, she slipped it off the gold, padded hanger and held it up to one of the mannequins in the front window. “I’m putting together the final touches for my new spring line, and I have to design a gown for Gabrielle Union to wear to an awards gala next month.”

“You seem stressed, Bev. Why don’t you let me take you out for lunch?”

“So you can pressure me into going to the reunion?” Beverly shook her head. “No way. I don’t have time for this right now. I’m up to my neck in paperwork and it’s going to take me the rest of the afternoon to fill the online orders.”

“Beverly, you’ve been dodging my calls for weeks and the reunion is less than a month away. I need to help finalize the rest of the plans for homecoming.”

She said nothing, just continued dressing the mannequin and humming to the Smokey Robinson song playing in the background.

Kyra heaved a heavy sigh. “So, that’s it? You’re not going and there’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind?”

Beverly gave a brisk nod, and then changed the subject. “I was at my favorite fabric store last week and it seemed the whole town was abuzz with the news of Terrence’s big return.”

“Yeah, his arrival has generated a lot of good press for the school. We’re received hundreds of online applications, and we had so much traffic on the Web site yesterday, it crashed!”

“I bet,” Beverly agreed. “After all, he is the pride of Hollington.”

“I’m lining up as many interviews as I can. I even contacted my old sorority sister, Tamara Hodges, about doing an article on Terrence becoming the Lions’ coach.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You got him to sign on already?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

Beverly started to speak, but her words were drowned out by a shrill, piercing laugh. Realizing they needed privacy, Kyra grabbed Beverly’s hand and dragged her into the back office. While the boutique was bright and glitzy, the office was a simple, understated space teeming with fashion magazines, invoices and poster boards. “Now,” Kyra began, closing the door and standing in front of it, “spill it. What’s the real reason you won’t go to the reunion?”

Beverly stood her ground. “You’re not going to change my mind, so you might as well save your breath.”

“The class of ninety-nine voted you homecoming queen, Beverly. How’s it going to look if you don’t show up?”

“Like I’m a popular fashion designer who has orders to fill.” Straightening up, she folded her arms across her chest, her gaze drifting to the open window. “Kyra, I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’ve moved on from beauty pageants and modeling contests. I want to be taken as a serious businesswoman and that’s not going to happen if I’m riding on top of a flowered float.”

In an effort to keep the peace, Kyra listened to what she had to say without interrupting. Beverly was frowning, and she could tell by the faraway look in her eyes that her mind was somewhere else. “Why does it feel like you’re blowing me off?”

“I’d never do that,” Beverly insisted, shaking her head. “We’re friends, remember?”

“Then can a sister get a discount on that gold Ferragamo gown?”

Beverly gave a brief sputter of laughter.

“Hanging out with old friends is just what you need. You’ve been divorced for almost two years, but you haven’t been on a single date. I’m not telling you to go out there and party like Paris Hilton, but live a little, girl! Go to the reunion, and have a good time. And if you see someone who catches your eye…” Kyra trailed off, her glossy red lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “There are going to be plenty of handsome, eligible brothers at the reunion, Bev. It would be a shame for you to miss out.”

A smile broke through. “You must be very good at your job,” she teased.

“I try,” Kyra sang, laughing. Sensing a subtle shift in her friend’s mood, and anxious to get her on board, she continued, “Homecoming weekend is your opportunity to shine. Do you know how much business you’ll drum up for the boutique just by being there wearing one of your gorgeous, one-of-a-kind creations?”

“I never even thought of that. It would be great for business, wouldn’t it?”

Kyra nodded. “How about I contact Tamara and ask her to do a piece in Luster about Hoops? It’s free publicity and last year the magazine surpassed Glamour magazine in sales.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, you’re going, all right,” Kyra vowed, lobbing an arm around Beverly’s shoulders, “because I won’t take no for an answer!”

That was exactly what Beverly was afraid of.




Chapter 2


“Girrrrl, you are going to get laid for sure in that dress.” Clarence, Beverly’s best friend and self-appointed relationship advisor, snapped his fingers and twirled her around so she could face the full-length mirror.

A cocky grin sloped across Beverly’s face. She did look good. The red cocktail dress hugged her curvy body like an extra layer of skin and she debated whether she even needed the thin silver belt. What was even more surprising was how much she loved her new hairstyle.

Clarence switched his hips and smacked his clear, shimmering lips. “Do I know how to hook my girl up or what?”

Beverly happily agreed. The shorter, darker do made her golden eyes pop and easily erased the past ten years from her face. She might actually pull this off.

“Now remember, whatever booty you get, fifteen percent of it is mine.”

Beverly howled and then bumped her hip against his. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

“Love me, sweetheart. That’s what they all do with me.” He leaned forward and blew air kisses. Dressed in an immaculate pair of shiny denim jeans and a cloud-white shirt beneath a black merino sweater, Clarence was as sharp as any male model strutting down a Prada runway. On his youthful, effeminate face he wore the lightest touch of face powder and lip gloss.

“Well, I better go,” Clarence said as he turned away from the mirror and marched out of the bathroom. “It’s Friday night and you’re not the only bitch trying to get laid.”

Beverly laughed as she followed. “Thanks again, Clarence. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come over.”

“Uh-huh.” Clarence glanced around the large hotel suite, specifically the huge king-size bed.

“Look, I’m just staying here at the hotel during homecoming weekend because it’s a lot closer to Hollington College than my house. If I happened to have a few drinks, it’s easier to catch a cab here than risk driving all the way back out to the suburbs.”

Clarence wasn’t buying it. “Whatever, chickie.” He switched his hips as he retrieved his jacket. “You just make sure this big ol’ bed doesn’t go to waste this weekend. I’ve been telling you you needed to get your groove back for a while. I’m glad Kyra finally brought you around.”

Beverly actually blushed. “I never said I was going to this homecoming to get laid.”

“Uh-huh.” Clarence popped his lips.

“I came to just have a good time and catch up with old friends.” The lie even sounded weak to her.

Clarence rolled his eyes. “Girl, I know a freakum dress when I see it.” He headed to the door. “Have a good time and I expect details when I come by Hoops next week.”

Beverly chuckled and then added, “Thanks again for coming to my hair emergency. I was ready to pack up and go back home.”

“Relax.” Clarence reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re the homecoming queen. They’re going to love you. And if that jerk of an ex-husband of yours does show up, give him a good swift kick in the balls for me.”



Lucius was getting excited at the thought of returning to his old stomping grounds. Rumors had been circulating that both Terrence Franklin and Micah Ross would be swinging through the joint. He hoped to get a little face time with his old buddies and shoot the breeze. He had only one last business errand to run over at the downtown Hilton before he headed off to the college. Once he dropped off a few documents with one of his clients, he promised himself to turn off his BlackBerry and just enjoy his weekend.

Hell, he deserved it.

However, Atlanta’s Friday bumper-to-bumper traffic delayed his plans for a carefree weekend. While surrounding cars engaged in an endless game of cutting each other off, honking and tossing a few middle fingers in the air, Lucius slipped in his old The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill CD. Ten years ago, his senior year in college, this disc stayed on repeat. His boys loved it and, more importantly, so did the ladies.

When his favorite jam, “Ex-Factor,” came on, a broad smile carved across his lips as he bobbed his head. This was just what he needed to get in the ’99 mood. An hour later, he finally arrived at the Hilton and met businessman Mitch Paulson in the hotel bar.

“Ah, right on time,” Paulson said as he stood to shake Lucius’s hand. “Can I get you a drink?” He waved and caught a waitress’s attention.

Lucius glanced at his watch. “Actually, I—”

“Ah, c’mon.” Paulson gestured for him to take a seat. “It’s the least I can do after having you deliver those papers on such short notice.”

Lucius hesitated, glanced at his watch. No way would he make it over to Cork for the school’s private cocktail party on time. Then again, maybe it was better to show up fashionably late.

“Don’t be rude, Lucius. Have a seat,” Paulson insisted and then added a boisterous laugh. “You know businessmen don’t like drinking alone.”

Lucius relented with a chuckle. “Maybe just one drink.”

Their waitress popped up the moment Lucius took his seat. “Whiskey on the rocks,” he ordered.

“Make that two,” Paulson corrected, giving the pixie blonde a flirtatious wink.

However, the waitress’s blue gaze was busy assessing Lucius. She was cute, but Lucius would most likely always crave the touch and love of a curvy sistah. That was just how he rolled.

When the waitress saw that she wasn’t getting any play, she drifted away from the table.

“Ah, well,” Paulson huffed and reached inside his jacket and retrieved a cigar case. “I guess I’m losing my touch.”

Or you shouldn’t try to pick up someone young enough to be your granddaughter.

“Just as well, I suppose. It’s not easy keeping up with these young girls,” he said, laughing at his own joke. “I damn near threw my back out last year with an eighteen-year-old hell-bent on turning me into a pretzel.”

Lucius laughed along, though he picked up on a few notes of sadness.

“Who knows? I probably should’ve stayed married,” Paulson continued. “But…well, back when I was your age I was married to my job more than I was to Sheila.”

This always happened when Lucius shared drinks with his male clients. Alcohol loosened tongues and Lucius found himself cast in the role of a pseudopsychiatrist.

“You married, Lucius?” Paulson asked just as their waitress returned with their drinks.

“Divorced.”

“Hmmph.” Paulson shook his head. “Big mistake.”

“I don’t know. It seemed to have worked out for the best.”

“Sure you say that now. Let a few more years roll by.” He took a sip of his drink. “Seeing anybody?”

Lucius shifted in his chair as he took a few sips of his whiskey. “Let’s just say that I’m keeping my options open.”

“How many hours are you putting in at the firm?”

“What is this, an interrogation?”

“Let me guess,” Paulson went on, sizing him up. “You look like a workaholic. I’d say about 85 to 90?”

Their gazes locked.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Paulson flashed him a lopsided grin. “Tell me. Have you noticed how cold a house gets at night yet?”

Lucius didn’t answer.

“Hmmph.” Paulson shook his head. “Believe me. It gets a lot colder. Thing is, I don’t ever remember it being that way when I was married. A house is meant to be a home.” He leveled his gaze back on Lucius. “And man was never meant to be alone—that’s the one passage I remember from the Bible.”

Lucius quickly took another sip of his drink.

“A career is great, but a good woman is even better.” Paulson scanned the room. “Are you a breast or leg man?”

“I, uh—”

“Aww. Maybe you like a woman with a little junk in the trunk?” He winked.

Lucius would never get used to old white men trying to talk hip. “Yeah. I guess you can say that I like it all.”

Paulson’s drink stopped midway to his lips. “Then it looks like you’re in luck. Check out who just walked through the door.”

Curious, Lucius turned around and nearly dropped his glass when his gaze zeroed in on a tall, gorgeous woman in red with deep brick-house curves and a smile that lit up the whole room. Spellbound, he watched her as she strolled over to the bar. Her big breasts sat high and were like—pow! Her firm, but still bouncing backside was like—ka-pow!

To maintain some semblance of cool, Lucius sipped a little more of his whiskey, but his eyes never left the seductive sway Paulson so elegantly called junk in the trunk.

“Better close your mouth and go make a move,” Paulson chuckled. “I’d say you have about five seconds before someone else beats you to the punch.”

Lucius tossed down the rest of his drink in one gulp and sprang out of his chair without a backward glance. Halfway over to the bar, he realized that he didn’t have the slightest idea what to say. His pickup lines were a little rusty.

Across the room, he saw another brother stand up; his eyes locked on the same mysterious woman. Lucius picked up his pace and settled onto the empty stool beside the lady in red, whose soft floral perfume worked like an invisible hook. Before he could speak, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

“Hello,” she greeted in a velvety smooth voice that dripped with sin.

Lucius responded with the first thing that popped into his head. “Marry me?”




Chapter 3


Beverly laughed. The question had been so unexpected that she couldn’t do anything but. The handsome stranger next to her joined in. His intriguing hazel eyes were so bewitching her heart skipped a beat. She estimated him to be six-two, lean but well muscled. His medium-brown skin had a healthy glow, and he had short-cropped hair that was well-groomed. She fought the sudden impulse to run her fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it looked. Bottom line, he was a good-looking man with a smile that took her breath away.

“Okay. I admit that was a pretty cheesy pickup line,” the handsome devil admitted.

“But very effective,” she said, throwing him a bone. “Maybe I should be asking how many wives you have stashed away.”

He held up his bare right hand. “I’m as free as a bird.”

She arched a brow at him. Did he think a missing ring meant anything these days?

“I’m divorced.”

“What a coincidence,” she said.

“Now what idiot let you go?” he countered, shaking his head and hitting her with his sexy dimples.

“I know, right?”

They laughed.

“Mind if I buy you a drink?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t—”

“C’mon. Just one.”

The bartender popped up out of nowhere.

“What’ll you have?” her handsome admirer asked.

“Whoooo, boy. It’s, um, been a while.” She hesitated, not knowing what to order. She was more of a wine connoisseur and didn’t know any of the latest cool alcoholic concoctions so she stuck with an old staple. “I’ll just have a Long Island iced tea.”

“And I’ll have another whiskey on the rocks,” the stranger said and then turned his attention back to Beverly. “By the way, I’m Lucius Gray.” He extended his hand.

“Beverly Clark—well, Turner, actually.” She laughed at the slip. “I can’t believe I still make that mistake.”

When his large hand closed around hers, a delicious warmth raced up her arm, her nipples hardened and she tingled in places she’d long forgotten about. That was definitely a good sign.

“If you don’t mind, I have a second cheesy line I’d like to ask you,” Lucius said.

“All right.” She smiled. “Shoot.”

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a bar like this?”

“Well, I just wanted to grab a quick drink to help me relax before I head out for the evening.”

His gaze roamed over her. “So you’re staying at the hotel?”

The bartender returned. “One Long Island iced tea and one whiskey on the rocks. Enjoy.”

Lucius waited patiently for an answer while Beverly took a sip of her drink.

“Mmmm. Now that hit the spot.”

He chuckled, deciding to keep an obvious sexual retort to himself.

Beverly glanced over at him and read him easily. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Lucius held up his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right.” She sipped more of her drink. “And to your previous question, I’m just staying at the hotel for the weekend. And yourself?”

“No, I actually, uh—” he glanced around “—had a meeting with a client, but it looks like that’s already ended.”

“I’m not keeping you from your work, am I?”

“No. No. It’s all right.” He flashed another smile. “We had already wrapped things up. When you strolled in and caught every brotha’s attention in that knockout dress.”

“What—this old thing?”

Lucius laughed.

She bobbed her head and then returned to nursing her drink. “So what do you do, Mr. Gray?”

“I’m an attorney…and please, call me Lucius.”

“Okay, Lucius,” she said, purposely lowering her voice. “It sort of sounds like luscious.”

Lucius’s eyes darkened with unmistakable desire. “You can call me that if you like,” he said, leaning in close. “But only when we’re alone.”

At the feel of his warm breath against her cheek, Beverly experienced a few more tingles. Good Lord, one drink and she was ready to jump the man’s bones.

“Anyway,” Lucius said, “I work for one of the largest African-American law firms in Atlanta. We primarily deal with big litigation cases. You know, health care, pharmaceuticals and insurance fraud.”

“Ahh, an attorney,” she said noncommittally.

“What? Don’t tell me that you have something against lawyers?”

She shrugged. “No. It’s just that…well…”

“What?”

“It’s just that you might be the first attorney I actually like.”

Lucius choked on his drink. When he recovered, he barked with laughter.

Beverly chuckled at his side. “No offense,” she added. “But the last time I had to deal with attorneys I was going through a pretty messy divorce.”

“No offense taken, I assure you. And to be completely honest with you, I wasn’t too crazy about my divorce attorney, either. If you don’t mind my asking, how long ago did you get your freedom papers?”

She shrugged. “Two years.”

“Ah. So your wounds are still fresh.”

Was he suggesting that she still had baggage? “What about you?”

Lucius took another sip of his drink. “Five years. I’ve officially been divorced longer than I was married. But I did get a beautiful daughter out of the deal.”

Beverly’s easy smile dimmed as she reached for her glass.

Lucius soaked in her profile. “Are you sure that we haven’t met somewhere before?”

This time, she nearly choked on her drink. “Cheesy line number three,” she said, dabbing her mouth with a cocktail napkin.

His laughter deepened as he shook his head. “Nah. Nah. I mean it. You look very familiar to me. Do you live here in Atlanta or did you fly in on business?”

“No. I live here in Atlanta,” she said. Her face continued to warm beneath the intensity of his gaze. It didn’t help that the alcohol from her drink felt as if it suddenly had a direct pipeline to her blood system. “Mmm.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed the small buzz.

Lucius’s body reacted to her sexy moan. “Damn. I should’ve had what you’re having.”

Beverly giggled—something she hadn’t done in a long time.

“So what is it that you do, Ms. Turner?”

“I’m a fashion designer—local. I own a boutique out in Virginia Highland. Have you ever been out there?”

He thought hard and long about it. “Can’t say that I have.” His eyes narrowed. “But I swear you seem familiar. Maybe with lighter hair?”

Beverly blinked. “Actually, I recently darkened it.”

He continued to scrutinize. “Was it longer, too?”

“Yes!” Now she tried to study him. Had they met before?

“I’m going to figure it out,” he assured her. His eyes continued to roam hungrily.

He wanted to taste a sample of her lips, not doubting for a moment that they would be sweet, intoxicating and downright addictive. He had a nearly uncontrollable desire to bury himself in the soft curves of her body. Good Lord, he was already thinking about her this way after just talking to her for a few minutes. How long had it been since he’d been with a woman? He frowned, trying to come up with an answer. Ten months. Eleven months. A year? Surely, it couldn’t have been that long—had it?

He reached for his drink again while trying to rein in his horny body. Hell, if he stood up right now he would have to figure out a way to walk with three legs.

Beverly glanced at her watch.

Lucius did the same. He was really going to be late to the private cocktail party. But if he played his cards right, maybe the night would end on a higher note than trying to see how many of his old college buddies still had a head full of hair.

“Can I get you anything else?” the bartender popped up to ask.

Beverly warred with whether she should stick around and enjoy Mr. Lucius’s company or get her butt over to Cork for the Hollington private cocktail party. It wasn’t any easy decision. It felt good to have a man look at her the way he did. It made her feel beautiful, desired, and downright horny. When was the last time that happened? In her mind, she was already experimenting with different acrobatic positions and she could feel herself overheating.

Whoooaaa, Beverly. Slow it down.

“Are you blushing?” he asked.

“Huh? What? No!” She blinked and shook her head clear of those naughty thoughts. “I’ll just have some water,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. Coming right up.”

Lucius’s evenly groomed brows rose in mild curiosity.

“A woman must know her limitations,” Beverly said, meeting his gaze. “I don’t want to do anything I might regret in the morning.”

He clearly caught her meaning and licked his lips. “I don’t know about regret, but maybe you should do something you’ll enjoy.”

Their eyes locked and the temperature in the bar skyrocketed. Where was that damn water?

“Here you go,” the bartender said, helping Beverly break the spell she’d fallen under.

“Thank you.” She tossed down half its contents in one long gulp.

“Damn. Thirsty?” Lucius asked.

“Just a little.” She chuckled.

They glanced at their watches again.

“Am I keeping you from something?”

She hesitated and then gave him an apologetic smile. “I am supposed to be somewhere.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a cocktail party over at Cork. I—”

Lucius snapped his fingers. “That’s where I know you from.”

Beverly frowned.

“Class of ’99. Hollington College. You’re that Beverly Turner.” He balled his hand in front of his mouth and laughed. “You were homecoming queen.”

Stunned, Beverly blinked at him. “You graduated at Hollington?”

“Sure did. Four of the best years of my life. Now it’s coming back to me.” He laughed. “You used to hang with Kyra Dixon, right?”

“Yeah.” She continued to struggle to place his face.

“I used to be on the football team with Terrence Franklin. Offensive lineman.”

Beverly experienced a flicker of a memory—tall boy, tight ass, hazel eyes. “I think I do remember you,” she said, smiling. “What a coincidence.”

“I’d say.” His smoldering gaze roamed over every inch of her. “Boy, you’re just as beautiful today as you were back then.”

Beverly’s blush deepened. “I love it when a man lies to me.”

“We never officially met back then,” Lucius confessed. “But I remember peeping you out on more than one occasion.” He set down his drink. “Tell you what. Since I’m heading to Cork myself, what do you say I give you a lift?”

It wasn’t exactly smart to jump in a car with a man she hardly knew.

He leaned forward and gave her a wink. “I promise, I’m harmless—despite my being a lawyer.” He stood from his stool, tossed a few bills onto the bar and then offered her his arm. “C’mon. Live a little.”

Beverly could almost hear Clarence cussing her out if she turned down this fine brotha. It would be nice to actually walk into Cork on a handsome man’s arm. Plus, who knows how the rest of the night might end up?

Girrrrl, you are going to get laid for sure.

She certainly hoped so. “All right. Let’s go.”




Chapter 4


Beverly felt wicked as she allowed Lucius to escort her to his car. It had been years since she’d allowed a man to pick her up in a bar. In fact, she would have to think back to all those wild college spring breaks when she’d been so daring. She kept waiting for her conscience to kick in, for reason to stop her from jumping into this man’s car; however, that little voice never came. Instead, desire and lust seized her body, making her willing to see just how this whole night would play out.

“After you,” Lucius said, opening the passenger door.

Her gaze locked onto his and caused another spark of electricity to flow between them. “Thank you.” Slowly, she dipped into the seat.

Lucius closed the door and rushed around to the driver’s side. “I can’t believe that I’m actually escorting the homecoming queen,” he chuckled, gliding into his own seat.

“Oh, please. Don’t go on about that.” She rolled her eyes. “That was a very long time ago.”

He strapped on his seat belt. “But you’re riding in the parade Sunday, right?”

“Unfortunately.” Beverly sighed and wondered once again how Kyra had talked her into wearing that godforsaken crown and waving to the crowd. In her opinion, there was nothing worse than an aging beauty queen trying to recapture her youth. Back in the day, she thought nothing of pursuing all those titles—heck, there was good scholarship money attached to those pageants. Now that she was older, she just found the whole thing…silly.

She chuckled. Those were those same words her father used to use. He never once liked the idea of her trotting before a phalanx of judges, normally in a skimpy bathing suit, to be judged. It was sort of funny that it had taken her so long to finally agree with him.

Lucius started the car and Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor” poured out of the speakers.

“Oh, I love this song,” Beverly gasped. “I used to blast it all time back in the day.” She rocked in her seat and cooed the lyrics to the song.

Lucius laughed and bobbed his head. “Not bad,” he praised. “Baby girl got skills.”

“I can hold a note or two.” Beverly turned down the volume. “Good enough for car concerts only.”

“You’re selling yourself too short.” He hit her with another deep-dimpled grin that had her feeling as if she was sitting next to a childhood crush. There was no explanation for why she reacted the way she did to him. She had known plenty of good-looking men in her life. A lot of them were confident achievers, too, but Lucius…he had this whole other vibe going. It was this whole sexy-cool thing that had her hanging on his every word—even when he said something cheesy.

A few minutes later, they arrived at Cork—a posh wine bar in downtown Atlanta. The place was so packed that they had to drive around a couple of times before he discovered one parking place in the back of the building. On the outside, the place looked small and quaint, but once inside it was a large open space with dark wood floors. Wine barrels lined one wall while another entire wall was a large mahogany bar behind which were rows and rows of wine bottles.

Tall tables and stools were located off to the sides, leaving the center open for mingling. Soft piano music filtered from hidden speakers and the lighting was somewhat subdued, giving the place a warm, sexy vibe that Beverly was really feeling.

“This is nice,” she commented, glancing around. Everyone looked beautiful in their fancy cocktail dresses and casual suits.

“Beverly? Is that you?”

Beverly turned to see a gaggle of women quickly surround her.

“I don’t believe it! Look at you. You look beautiful,” the leader of the pack exclaimed, taking Beverly by the shoulders and literarily forcing her to do a pirouette.

Beverly beamed a smile at the woman, but after scanning her memory bank, she was unable to place the woman’s face with a name. This is starting to become a trend, she noted. “Why, thank you,” she said when the woman finally released her. “It’s so good to see you. How are you doing?” Maybe if she kept the woman talking, she’d be able to figure out who she was.

“Doing good. Just landed a morning spot on CNN and—” she flashed her diamond ring “—married to Damon Woods. Eight years and still going strong.” She laughed and batted her long faux lashes. But it was how her voice squeaked and skipped that finally made Beverly clue in to whom she was speaking with. Darcy Knight—which meant that the three women flanking her were Kitty Kirkland, Natalie Coles and Keri Evans.

Instantly, a few inches were shaved off Beverly’s smile. She and Darcy had an unspoken rivalry back in college and high school. It was nothing that was perpetuated on Beverly’s end, but Darcy lost both homecoming queen titles to Beverly, as well as placing second in the Ms. Georgia Teen and Ms. Georgia pageants. When they weren’t competing, Darcy chased after David like a bitch in heat and she was constantly biting Beverly’s look from hairstyles to clothes.

Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if the past ten years had been particularly easy on her. At a cursory glance, Darcy’s yaki weave didn’t exactly match her unrelaxed crown, plus she had on way too much makeup and she’d easily gained fifty pounds. And her happy clique suffered the same fate.

“Is this one of your creations? I heard you were a fashion designer now,” Darcy asked, acid dripping from her voice.

“Why, yes. It is. Do you like it?”

“It’s…cute,” Darcy drawled. “You know I thought about going into the fashion biz, too, but I much prefer to work in something a little more serious.”

Beverly blinked, but before she had the chance to respond to that backhand slap, Darcy changed the subject. “So how’s David?” Darcy asked, casting a curious look over at Lucius. “Word is you two tied the knot right after college.”

“We did,” she confirmed. “And now we’re divorced.”

Darcy and her gang’s faces collapsed in mock sympathy. “Oh, I’m sooo sorry to hear that,” Darcy said. “Of course, I always thought that you two were an odd fit.”

Her girls bobbed their heads in agreement.

Beverly tensed, but then to her surprise, Lucius wrapped a supporting arm around her waist. She looked up into his smoldering hazel eyes while he smiled down at her.

“David’s loss is my gain,” he told the women without breaking eye contact with Beverly.

She smiled. Talk about a knight in shining armor.

Kitty, Natalie and Keri sighed while Beverly swore her body was slowly melting in Lucius’s arms. This was the closest they had been tonight; it was almost like being wrapped in a cocoon where she detected the faint scent of his aftershave mixed with his sinfully sexy cologne.

“Aren’t you Lucius Gray?” Darcy asked, stepping closer.

“Guilty,” he said, finally turning to look at Darcy. “And you are?”

“Darcy Woods—well, it used to be Knight.” Her smile was suddenly bright enough to rival the sun. “We met once at a, um…frat party.” She twirled a few strands of her hair around her fingers.

Beverly tensed as jealousy pricked her skin. Had Lucius and Darcy had a fling back in the day? One look and she could tell he was wondering the same thing.

“Well, I did attend my fair share of those,” he admitted.

“Mmm-hmm.” Darcy smiled like a sly cat with a secret. “At this particular party you had quite a bit to drink and I seem to remember you losing a bet to Terrence Franklin and you and Thomas Barrett had to shave your heads and streak through the center of campus.”

“Hey,” Beverly said, turning. “I remember that!” Her eyes widened, mainly because that night one of the boys shocked the crowd by being extremely well-endowed.

Lucius’s face darkened to a deep cranberry. “Ah. That night. Not exactly one of my most sober decisions.”

“Well,” Darcy said, swinging her gaze back to Beverly with contempt clearly written on every inch of her face, “looks like your lucky streak continues.”

Lucky? Beverly almost laughed in the woman’s face. There were plenty of ways to describe her, especially since she’d left college, and lucky wasn’t one of them. “I’d thank you not to presume you know anything about my life.”

“Hmmph. Well,” Darcy said as if she was suddenly bored, “it was good seeing you again. I’m sure that we’ll have time to play catch-up later.” She blew Beverly a quick air kiss and then ushered her three-ring circus away.

Beverly shook her head, stunned by how the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

“That was…interesting,” Lucius said, glancing back down at her. “How come I get the feeling that you two weren’t really friends?”

“Picked up on that, did you?”

He chuckled. “How about I get us a drink? You look as if you could use one.”

She could, actually. “Thanks.”

“Be right back.” He winked.

The moment his arm fell from her waist, Beverly’s body ached for its return. Again, a strange response to a man she hardly knew.

“There you are!” Kyra threaded her way through a throng of people and then popped up in front of Beverly and wrapped her in a brief hug. “You came.”

“As promised,” Beverly said, smiling.

“Good.” Krya looped her arm through Beverly’s. “Please tell me you’re having a good time.”

“So far so good.” She bobbed her head. “Except when I ran into Darcy Knight.”

“Oh!” Krya rolled her eyes. “I was hoping her invitation got lost in the mail.”

“It’s all right. We kept the claws in…kind of.”

Kyra’s smile exploded. “See. I knew that you could handle yourself. By the way, I love the new haircut and color.”

Beverly beamed. “Thanks, I had Clarence hook me up. I swear the man has magic hands when it comes to my hair.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful. In fact, you look like you’re positively glowing.”

Beverly’s gaze skittered across the room to the bar, where Lucius scanned a wine menu. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you remember a Lucius Gray?” The minute she asked the question she noted a visible change in her friend’s face.

“I, uh, yeah…used to play on the football team, I believe. Why?”

Beverly took another cursory glance toward the bar, but noticed Lucius was gone.

“And here we go,” Lucius said, suddenly appearing at her side and handing her a glass of red wine. “I hope you like pinot noir,” he added, chuckling and circling his arm back around her waist.

Kyra’s eyes widened. “You…two…know…each…other?”

Lucius turned and hit Kyra with one of his sexy deep-dimple grins. “Well, I don’t believe it. Kyra. Kyra Dixon.” He eased from Beverly’s side to sweep a startled Kyra into a brief hug. “Don’t you look lovely as ever?” He glanced around. “Is Terrence here, too? I can’t wait to see him and play catch-up.”

Kyra stiffened. “I don’t know how you could miss him. He’s over there with his big adoring fan club.”

Lucius’s brows lifted at her tone.

Kyra smiled weakly. “Um, can you two excuse me? I need to go check on something.”

Before Beverly or Lucius could respond, she jetted away from their small circle and disappeared into the crowd.

“Was it something I said?” Lucius asked.

Beverly shook her head. “No. It’s…a long story.”

He clearly picked up the hint and let the subject drop. Minutes later, Beverly and Lucius maneuvered through the crowd like a seasoned couple saying their hellos and reconnecting with old friends. Whenever anyone questioned how long she and Lucius had been dating, no one believed that they had only known each other a few hours. In some respects, even Beverly couldn’t believe it. There was definitely a connection between them. The only question was: what were they going to do about it?

“Good evening, everyone. Welcome to Hollington’s annual homecoming weekend, and the tenth anniversary of class of ninety-nine,” greeted a voice over the microphone. “I’m Kevin Stayton…”

That was as far as he got before the room erupted into shouts and applause. Even Kevin seemed caught off guard by the response. He quickly put up his hand to quiet the group down and regain control.

“Thanks for that, but the reason why I commandeered the mike from President Morrow is to make sure that everyone is made aware of who is responsible for the important and complex job of organizing this weekend. As it turned out, the best person possible was selected. And she’s one of ours, class of ’99, y’all!”

There was enthusiastic applause until Kevin again signaled for quiet.

“Typical of her, and some of you will remember this from our undergraduate years, she doesn’t like drawing attention to herself. She works quietly behind the scenes but she gets the job done, as all of you will experience during the course of this weekend. Ladies and gentlemen, Chloe Jackson!”

Chloe didn’t move, and then someone took her hand and pulled her forward to be recognized. It was Kyra, using her small hands to encourage the audience to keep up the applause.

Chloe half raised her hand in a shy salute and quickly stepped back behind the president.

Lucius leaned close and whispered, “I wonder what that was all about.”

Beverly just shrugged. She remembered Kevin Stayton, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember ever meeting a Chloe Jackson, but she looked great up there and there was no denying that she’d done a fabulous job with tonight’s party.

For the most part, Beverly enjoyed the evening. After several glasses of wine, she grew more lethargic and hid more and more yawns behind her hand. Still, she wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet.

“Someone is getting sleepy,” Lucius whispered as they rocked to Brandy’s old jam “Have You Ever?”

“No, no,” she lied and then immediately had to stifle another yawn. “Okay. Maybe just a little.” She blushed.

“Then what do you say that we head out of here and go do something that will wake you up?” he asked.

Did that mean what she thought it meant? Beverly’s legs quivered and those delicious tingles returned. Seeing that she came to the reception with him, it only made sense that they leave together—unless she wanted to play hard to get and call a cab. Looking into Lucius’s twinkling hazel gaze, Beverly realized an undeniable truth: she had no desire to play hard to get.

“Yeah,” she answered in a lusty voice. “Let’s get out of here.”




Chapter 5


When Lucius asked Beverly if she was ready to leave, he had meant to extend their evening by going to a nice jazz club or something. But he knew by the look that she’d given him that she had other things on her mind. And he was way too much of a gentleman to disappoint her. As they tried to maneuver through the crowd, Kevin Stayton cut off their escape path.

“Well, I don’t believe it! Lucius Gray!” Kevin declared, thrusting out a hand while simultaneously pounding Lucius on the back. “Nice to see you, you old dog.”

“Kevin, how are you?” Lucius greeted, though truth be told he’d rather put off their reunion for another time.

“I’m doing good.” He glanced around. “You know your old football buddy Terrence is here, too, but you might have some trouble getting to him through his mad fan club.”

“So I heard,” Lucius said. “Well, if you could excuse—”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. You’re a lawyer, right?”

Lucius cast an apologetic look over his shoulder at Beverly.

“Don’t worry. I need to step into the ladies’ room for a few minutes anyway,” Beverly said with a teasing smile. “I won’t be too long.”

Lucius turned his attention back to Kevin. And though his old friend was delaying his power play, he kept his cool and concentrated on what was being said.

“Yeah, man. The CHRIS Kids Foundation is this great family program that keeps struggling families from collapsing, losing their children and becoming dependent on public welfare, mental health and juvenile justice systems. I was thinking maybe your firm could help them on this. Now, we couldn’t pay you much…”



Beverly smiled and waved her way toward the ladies’ room, but once inside, her smile dropped and she drew in a deep, exhausted breath. “Bev, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” she whispered to herself as she headed over to the long vanity counter to check her appearance. To her great pleasure, her hair was still fierce. Maybe she needed a quick touch-up on her lipstick. She opened her clutch purse and whipped out a pink tube when a weird hacking sound caught her attention.

She frowned. A toilet flushed and a second later, the door opened and an attractive woman in a black sequined cocktail dress stepped out with an awkward smile.

“Are you okay?” Beverly asked, looking at the woman’s reflection in the mirror.

The woman looked up and Beverly instantly recognized Tamara Hodges.

“Hey, Beverly. I’m fine,” she responded. “At least I will be in a few minutes.”

Beverly abandoned her lipstick touch-up and turned to face the pale woman. “Tamara, it’s so good to see you again,” she stated with a sincere smile. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Tamara nodded. “Time goes so fast. You were my first interview for the Atlanta Daily after we graduated.”

Beverly remembered, nodding. “You did a great job on the article, by the way—I don’t know if I ever told you.”

Tamara smiled. “You sent me a nice note thanking me. In fact, I believe I still have it.”

That was sweet, Beverly thought. Then again, Tamara was always such a sweet girl even though Beverly had always detected a quiet sadness about her.

Suddenly, she stopped smiling. Next she put a hand to her stomach and rushed back into a nearby stall.

Beverly frowned again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked a second time when Tamara walked out.

Nodding, Tamara responded, “My stomach is a little upset.”

Beverly had other suspicions. “I hope I’m not being too nosy, but are you expecting a baby?”

Tamara nodded sheepishly.

“Congratulations,” Beverly proclaimed with bittersweet tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I—I’m happy for you.”



Lucius glanced toward the ladies’ room just as Beverly exited. Her smile had disappeared and she looked as though she was downright troubled. “Is something wrong?” he asked when she returned to his side.

“Uh, no. I just ran into an old friend.” She glanced over her shoulder, and then smiled back at him. “Are you ready to go?”

Lucius glanced at Kevin and, at last, the brotha seemed to pick up on the hint.

“I’ll holler at you sometime next week,” Kevin said, winking.

“Thanks, man.” Lucius looped an arm around Beverly’s waist and this time he managed to successfully escort her from the party. As they strolled out to his car, Beverly leaned her head against his shoulder. Something had changed and Lucius wondered if he’d have to take a rain check for their promised evening.

He whipped out the car keys from his pants pocket, and quickly opened the passenger door. “Here you go, mademoiselle.”

“Thank you,” she murmured and took her seat.

Once in, Lucius shut her door and then bounded over to the driver’s side. Another glance to his right and he knew he had to do something to recapture the moment. “You know those hors d’oeuvres were nice, but I could really go for something to eat. Are you game?”

Beverly pulled out of her reverie and, for a moment, looked like she was going to reject the offer, but then she apparently thought better of it. “Actually, I am a bit famished.”

“Great.” He started up the car. “Have you ever been to Sambuca?”

A sparkle returned to her eye. “I love that place.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s dinnertime on a Friday night—do you think we can get in without a reservation?”

Lucius winked. “Leave it to me. I know a guy.”

Sambuca, located in the heart of Buckhead, was one of Lucius’s favorite places to dine and dance the night away. On top of offering an eclectic American menu, the casual sophisticated atmosphere was hailed across A-town for the diversity of its live bands. On any given night, its patrons were treated to an evening of jazz, R&B or dance hits.

It was a jazz night, and the low, seductive lighting immediately aided the seductive mood Lucius was aiming for. However, the crowded ring of waiting patrons didn’t bode well.

“Yo, Lucius,” Spencer, the club’s host, greeted the moment he saw Lucius approach the host/hostess stand. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“Working, you know how it is.”

Spencer tossed up his hands. “I hear you, man. Everybody is hustlin’.” He glanced over at Beverly and then gave Lucius a knowing wink. “Good to see you, um, testing the waters again.”

Lucius caught his not-so-subtle meaning and struggled to keep his grin from turning sly. “How long is the wait?”

Spencer glanced down at the crammed waiting list. “No reservation?”

“Last-minute decision.”

Spencer sucked in a long stream of air through his teeth and stroked this thinly trimmed goatee. “I don’t know. The walk-ins list is hitting about an hour wait time.”

Lucius reached into his pocket and handed over a couple of folded bills. “How about now?”

“Maybe thirty minutes?”

Lucius added a couple of more bills. “And now?”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“You’re killing me.” He handed over two more Grant bills, bringing the grand total to three hundred dollars. “My final offer.”

“Well, looky here. It appears I do have a table in section four available.”

“Section one,” Lucius corrected, wanting a table closer to the stage.

“That’s what I said,” Spencer said, grabbing two menus. “Follow me.”

Lucius returned his arm around Beverly’s waist as he escorted her behind Spencer.

The jazz band jammed John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme” as they moved past the stage and then settled into to their u-shaped leather booths. He and Beverly sat pretty close at the bottom of the u.

“Here you go,” Spencer said, handing over their menus. “Your waiter should be with you in a moment.”

“Thanks, man,” Lucius said.

“Heeey—” Spencer shrugged good-naturely “—what are friends for?”

Lucius laughed, thinking about how much his friend just bilked him for.

Spencer winked, signaling that everybody had a hustle these days. “Enjoy your evening.”

He glanced over at Beverly and loved seeing the huge smile plastered on her face.

She leaned over and spoke into his ear, “I love Coltrane.”

Lucius perked at that statement. “Now what do you know about Coltrane?”

“Please. My father was a jazz aficionado. Coltrane was like a god in our house.” She laughed, thinking about the number of Saturday mornings she woke to the melodious tune of ’Trane’s seemingly magical saxophone.

Lucius nodded appreciatively. “A woman who knows her jazz. You’re starting to sound too good to be true.”

Beverly couldn’t help but blush at the praise and then fell into easy conversation about their favorite jazz artists, which morphed into who were their favorite R&B artists and so on and so on. Throughout the meal, Beverly kept marveling over how easy it was to talk to Lucius. There was something about his smooth baritone that she found comforting. She was convinced that she would be content just listening to him read the phonebook.

When another old favorite began to play, this time “What a Diff’rence a Day Makes,” Lucius adeptly read her face and offered her his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Beverly tilted her head. “Yes, you may.”

They stood together and waltzed over to the small dance floor before the band. As they’d done for most of the evening and now the night, the two glided into each other’s arms, their bodies fitting together perfectly.




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