Tulips for Tonica: A GSO Story

by RaeLynn Blue

  www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

  Tulips for Tonica

  RaeLynn Blue

  Copyright © 2011 by RaeLynn Blue

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright.

  This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Published by

  Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 61

  Colfax, NC 27235

  www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

  Cover Art: Shara Azod

  Editor: Barb Wilson

  Proofreader: Novellette Whyte

  http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/

  Formatter: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/

  E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/

  ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-213-5; (print) 978-1-61788-214-2

  For Drea…You already know.

  Note about eBooks

  eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

  CAVEAT

  This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

  PREFACE

  An Invitation

  The GSO beats in the heart of North Carolina, drumming out tales of lust, love, and mischief. Those that reside in the Greensboro area, the GSO, are Southern and sensual, sexy and smart. So, set your GPS for the GSO and lose yourself in RaeLynn Blue’s wickedly delicious and wildly wonderful backyard.

  Stories in the GSO series (in reading order)

  C.A.K.E

  AN ENGLISH ROSE

  TULIPS FOR TONICA

  Chapter One

  “How can you be content to be in the world like tulips in a garden, to make a fine show, and be good for nothing?” —Mary Astell

  Rain splashed down in big droplets, splatting so hard against the pavement that Tonica Faye heard the splat amplified across the other noises saturating downtown Greensboro. As the downpour intensified, she skirted around domed trashcans, hid behind thick telephone poles, and huddled alongside sporadic crowds of people vacating the shops. With the collar of her ebony raincoat turned up, Tonica suppressed a shiver as a trickle of rain infiltrated her coat. It slipped down her back, cold and wet. She narrowed her eyes, peering through the squall at her objective—Carte Seay.

  Handsome, sexy, and a snake, Carte Seay had been known for his taste for the ladies. Nearly six feet tall, athletic build with the best pair of hardened thighs Tonica had ever seen, Carte’s body made women, judges, prosecutors and gay males alike swoon, salivate and submit requests for private counsel. A woman reputed to be one of Carte’s ex-girlfriends, Shae Williams, demanded to prove via paternity test that Carte had fathered her two boys. Carte had denounced in the media and through his five lawyer-mouthpieces that he hadn’t fathered the children because he never had sex with Shae. The woman hired a local investigative firm, Stevens & Eaton Detective Agency, to try to snag the man’s DNA. Hence the reason why in this horrible shower, Tonica, who worked for Stevens & Eaton, was walking behind the best criminal attorney in Guilford County.

  Why Carte didn’t just take the test puzzled her.

  Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced around, taking in the gloomy, rain-drenched surroundings before removing it from her pocket. She slipped across the soaked sidewalk to the mouth of a narrow alley between Joaquin’s Hot Tamales and the Smokin’ Lizard Tobacco Store.

  “Yeah,” she answered, whispering into the phone.

  “How’s it going?” Olivia Eaton, co-owner of the detective agency, asked.

  “Really? You called me off a tail to ask me how it was going?” Tonica wiped the precipitation streaming down her face and hunched against the wall, trying to stay somewhat dry.

  Olivia Eaton and her boyfriend, a former police officer, Hal Stevens, worked in partnership. At first, Tonica thought she’d been lucky to be hired as a new recruit. She’d just gotten her private investigator’s license and her B.A. in Criminology when Olivia came to their college looking for a new PI for her budding agency, just two short years ago. Now, at 26, she felt more confident in herself and her career path.

  “Yes, rookie, I did,” Olivia said, her voice hard. “What’s your location?”

  “I’m on West Market Street. Carte just disappeared into a restaurant.”

  “Okay, give it a rest and head on back.”

  “What?” Tonica’s knuckles ached. She’d gripped the phone so hard, they hurt. Releasing her death grip, she took in a deep breath. “I’ve been soaked chasing him, following him for most of the day and now you want me to just quit and come back to the office? He’s going into a restaurant! A perfect opportunity to get his spit in a cup. What the hell, Olive?”

  “First off, you don’t get to call me Olive. We’re not sleeping together, and you’re not a six foot tall, brunette white man named Hal. Secondly, like I said, rookie, you follow my lead or you go find another place to work. I hear Burger King’s hiring.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Tonica said, too pissed off to trust herself to say more. Ever since she blew the tail last week on a suspected wife-beater, Olivia hadn’t trusted Tonica to do much of anything on her own. With Hal working undercover on another case, Olivia’s quick-fire temper escalated from occasionally pissed to pissed-all-the-time.

  With the flip of her phone, Tonica ended the annoying call and sighed. Fuck. She was so soaked, her feet squished inside her sneakers and her pants legs looked like she’d been walking through a flood. Watermarks lined the fabric up to her knees. Her hair hung in soaked strands. An umbrella would’ve given her position away—Carte would’ve noticed the same umbrella following him through Greensboro. So she’d been a good PI and left the umbrella at home. Now, looking like a drowned squirrel, Tonica pushed her hair back, and sighed. All of this for nothing.

  “To hell with that,” she said to herself. She headed out of the alley and down the sidewalk toward the restaurant she’d spied Carte entering a few minutes before. She’d get the goods on the lawyer by herself. She didn’t need Olivia’s permission to go into the eating establishment. Last time she checked, America was still a free country.

  With her mind made up and determination fending off the chills, Tonica walked down the sidewalk and right up to the sushi restaurant. She took in a strong breath of courage, grinned at the tingle of anticipation and adrenaline coursing through her and opened the door. Inside, dark ebony tables covered in ivory tablecloths sat coupled with chocolate leather booths and chestnut wood chairs. Throughout the compacted space, innocent ivories, bold scarlets, and vibrant verdants abound from framed art to napkins to chopsticks.

  She’d been here before, but couldn’t quite remember when. Maybe during her time at college, she couldn’t
be certain. She couldn’t pin down the memory before a handsome host approached. Dressed all in black, the soft lightening highlighted his ebony hair and dark-brown almond eyes. His bangs flirted with his eyes.

  “Welcome to Wasabi’s Sushi. A party of one,” he spoke with a slight accent that revealed what he thought about her, but his eyes took in her soaked attire and a small grin appeared on his face. “If you’ll follow me.”

  She did, but she searched the candlelit tables for Carte. Not knowing where the host would place her, she had to figure where her mark sat so she could get closer to him. If he’d been sitting by the restrooms, she could excuse herself and go by his table, visually snagging whatever information she could, or better, eavesdrop on his conversations. If he sat at the sushi bar, she could easily pretend to be interested in the creation of the various sushi rolls and do the same.

  Wasabi’s Sushi sat mostly empty at this late hour. The rain drove most people indoors during October for fear of ice and slick roads. Tonica had left her car about a block and half back down West Market Street by the Panera, having followed Carte on foot. She didn’t want his driver spotting her vehicle’s tail. So, she simply watched his sleek, ebony Lexus SUV drive down to the bookstore, Carte got out, entered the bookstore with driver in tow. He exited the bookstore sometime later and walked down to the sushi house. Tonica had followed him, discreetly until Olivia pulled her off her assignment.

  Screw that.

  “Here you are,” the hostess said, still smiling softly at her. “Would you like hot green tea? It will warm you.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Tea sounded so good on such a dreary and cold day.

  She slid into the two-person booth and shuddered, the chilly leather seat cold against her wet clothes. Her nipples contracted and pointed merrily through the soaked blouse. Like a second skin and a wet tee-shirt contest, her drenched clothing suddenly made her feel naked. Her pointy peaks tingled. No wonder the damn host kept smiling at her. She yanked her raincoat tighter, and then relaxed. Putting her observation skills to work, she took in her surroundings. Maybe the décor kept it intimate, but like most sushi places, it held a close familiarity, cold and abstract, but familiar all the same.

  Across the empty seating area, sipping a small cup of saki, Carte Seay sat, facing her. His driver/bodyguard sat at a perpendicular angle, to Carte’s right, where he could see the door, no doubt. So the bodyguard had seen her come in.

  “Here’s your tea,” said a waiter, making Tonica flinch. The waiter stepped right into her field of vision. Now she couldn’t see Carte. “You ready to order?”

  “Yes, uh, I’ll have the, uh, California roll,” she said, scanning through the menu from its propped up position on the table. Yeah, the Cali roll would be the easiest to order, since she knew it by heart. “Thank you.”

  The waiter nodded and left.

  When the waiter vacated her view, she noticed that Carte had moved. In fact, he was gone! She frowned. Where the dickens had he got off to in such a short time? She looked toward the door. Nope. The driver remained seated at the table. Restroom? Maybe.

  She put the menu down on the table and stood up. Adjusting her coat, she slung her purse onto her shoulder and headed to the restroom. Her sneakers squirted cool water between her socked toes and she grimaced. When she reached the ladies restroom, she slowed and pretended to dig into her purse searching for some lost item. She wanted to see if she could wait until Carte came out of the neighboring door.

  She fished around her bag, counting to twenty. If he hadn’t appeared by the time she reached twenty, she’d make a show of going into the restroom.

  “You lose something miss?” asked a voice so velvety smooth, Tonica’s ears actually relaxed. “You can use my cell phone if you need to call someone.”

  Tonica looked up and in to the most vivid verdant eyes she’d ever seen. Like emeralds, they held her fast. Fire and shrewd intelligence burned deep in those orbs. Carte Seay. In. The. Flesh. Dressed in an immaculate navy suit, Carte gave her a smile so sinful, so full of carnal promise, she nearly came right there. Untouched, no foreplay, nothing but his smile beamed at her.

  Hot damn.

  A smile that had disarmed so many prosecutors and allowed so many paying clients to walk around free. Tonica reminded herself of whom she dealt with—not some Swiss god, but a walking cancer—a defense attorney.

  Wheat-brown hair seemed to pulsate around him. Cut long in the front, and shorter all around made his eyes seem all the more green, and the fine line of stubble sprouting along his jawline made him look less polished, but rugged. Like sex with him wouldn’t be stilted and boring, but rough and rugged—good Lord help her.

  “I, uh, I…” she stammered, unable to make herself think past that alluring smile. Strong white teeth, even and handsome in his luscious mouth—a mouth made to suckle her nipples, kiss her clit and make her melt. Yep. That mouth. Right. There.

  She swallowed.

  “I noticed you’re eating alone,” Carte said, smirking now at her. “You could eat with me, at my table.”

  “You?” she spat through a wad of horniness and horrible indecision.

  “Yes.” He frowned at her and then his eyes brightened, his face relaxed. “Oh, yes, forgive my bad manners. You have no idea who I am...”

  Tonica had every idea of who he was, and despite the allegations against him, the fine ass attorney held her to the spot and drained all logical thoughts from her brain-except for one. The one operating her libido.

  “…I’m Carte Seay.” He extended his hand formally. “And you are?”

  “Um, oh, Tonica.” Her brain misfired under the heat of his gaze.

  Damn it. She can’t believe she gave him her real name. Olivia was going to kill her—kill her for sure.

  She shook his hand, and he let his fingers linger on hers. So soft, as if they’d never done a day of labor—ever. Those palms would feel so nice cupping her breasts, gliding down her stomach to her beating desire. Slipping into her wet heat, thumbing her clit and making her…

  “Very nice to meet you, Tonica. When you come back from the restroom, you will join me at my table,” Carte said, taking his hand back with another small smile. He looked at his hand and then back at her. “I insist.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, blushing, feeling her whole body flush from his touch. “Mr. Seay…”

  “Carte,” he interrupted. “See you in a bit.”

  With that he turned on his Italian leather-shod feet and headed back to the seating area.

  Tonica swallowed hard. That bit of lust hurt going down her throat, all raw edges and panic. Already, she spied the waiter going to her table and collecting her tea to take to Seay’s table. Shit. Shit. Shit. She didn’t know what the hell had just happened.

  All she knew for sure was that Olivia was going to kill her.

  Chapter Two

  The meaning of tulips is generally perfect love.

  —Unknown

  Carte Seay returned to his table, picked up his saki, and tried to slow down the roar of blood and adrenaline racing through him. He allowed himself a small smile. He’d done it. After weeks of planning, his time had arrived. His stomach tightened in anticipation. Would she be able to accept what he’d done? The lengths he had gone through to get to this point? It’d been a big risk, but his good friend and client, Stephen Silver, owner of C.A.K.E. had assured him that he, too, had done some very dramatic things for love. He didn’t love Tonica, but he liked her very much.

  “Far be it for me to tell you what to do, boss, but are you sure about this?” Tre Alexander, his bodyguard, asked in a low rumble. “She is pretty, but you’ve dated more beautiful woman than her.”

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, don’t you know, Tre? Besides, I like more than just her attractive packaging.”

  Carte smirked at the unsolicited advice from his bodyguard and accountant. Tre not only handled Carte’s personal finances, but he also owned an accoun
ting firm that boasted several of the larger businesses in the Greensboro area. Despite four years of partnership, Carte never asked him about his personal life, but he’d never witnessed anyone on the big man’s arm. A large man with wide shoulders, bald headed with rippling muscles that conveyed sheer strength, Tre’s mental brilliance in accounting disarmed many. Still, love advice didn’t appear to be one of Tre’s many talents.

  “Beauty, gold diggers, glory hounds, everyone wants something,” Tre said, barely moving his lips. Even from behind his dark sunglasses, Carte knew Tre saw everything.

  “Tonica is none of those. She’s a smart woman, cunning and charming, funny and brilliant,” Carte explained, and shrugged out of his suit jacket. “I want a chance, Tre. I missed it before. I’m not going to let this one go. She, she could be the one.”

  Tre snorted in disbelief. “The one. This isn’t The Matrix, Seay. You’re already tangled up in a mess with Shae.”

  He shrugged. “My handling of Shae’s claim has been a mistake.”

  “Then there’s how you’re doing this. You ask a woman outright. This thing you’re doing…” Tre shook his head.

  Carte scowled. “I know it’s unconventional, but I had no choice. With the paparazzi…”

  The scent of rain and lavender caught his attention. Tonica approached, skirting through tables, her petite legs moving with purpose. He noted that Tonica’s slick black raincoat hadn’t done a good job of keeping her dry. With her clothes clinging to her like a second skin, all of Tonica’s luscious curves had been put on display. Her figure stole his breath, made desire tingle through him and stirred his cock. The long-sleeved hunter-green tee-shirt revealed the outline of what appeared to be a lace bra. Dark jeans, so wet they looked black instead of navy clung stubbornly to hefty hips, tight buttocks, petite legs, and a waist thick, but not sloppy. Tonica’s hair hung in long, wet waves to her shoulders. She had the most amazing eyes, deeply dark brown, but surprisingly bright when something caught her fancy or made her curious. Fighting back the hunger growling at the base of his abdomen, Carte drank some more saki. Signaling the waitress, he tapped the lip of the container for a refill.