by Pamela Yaye
Kyra didn’t have psychic ability, but even Dionne Warwick could see where this was headed. “This is about Terrence, isn’t it?”
“We have some concerns and—”
“You mean Dad has some concerns,” she corrected. Arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, she stared up at the deep, blue sky. “Mom, why do you always do this?”
“Do what, sweet pea?”
“Call and relay Dad’s complaints.” Kyra brew out a breath. Her parents’ relationship fooled most people. On the outside, it appeared that her mom wore the pants, but nothing happened without her father’s say-so. He called the shots and her mother dutifully obeyed. “If Dad has something to say to me, he can call me himself. Is he so busy transforming lives that he can’t pick up the phone to talk to his daughter?”
“Mind your tone, Kyra. You might be grown, but I’m still your mother.”
Feeling guilty, she took a moment to right her thoughts. The grasses whispered, the wind whipped leaves. “Mom, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. I’m just sick of Dad acting all high and mighty.”
“Kyra, don’t talk about your father like that. He only wants the best for you.” Then her mother continued, “Your father is a great judge of character and he doesn’t feel Terrence Franklin is the right man for you.”
“He’s in no position to judge,” she snapped, with renewed annoyance.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Not only is your father a good man, he’s a loving husband and an upstanding member of the community. You were at the appreciation dinner. You heard all of the glowing things that people had to say.”
Unmoved and growing annoyed, Kyra listened with half an ear as her mother praised her father’s long list of accomplishments.
“Is…is Terrence there with you now?” She spoke in a whisper, and her voice was lit with curiosity. “You’re not shaking up, are you?”
“No, Mom, he’s not here. Terrence and I aren’t a couple, but if we were Dad would have absolutely no say in our relationship. I don’t tell him how to run the church, and he can’t tell me how to run my life.”
“I’m going to go get your father. The two of you really need to talk.”
“Mom, don’t!”
Silence descended on the line. Then, after a painfully long moment, her mother spoke. “Okay. I’ll let you go, then. I’ll see you kids at church on Sunday.”
“Terrence won’t be there. He has other plans.”
“Oh?”
Kyra shook her head. It was amazing how one word could convey so much. In her mother’s eyes, missing church was right up there with assault with a deadly weapon, and before Kyra could explain, her mother chirped, “That’ll be the second Sunday he’s missed.”
“Really?” Kyra said, trying hard not to laugh. “I haven’t been keeping track.”
“You should. How a man feels about God says a lot about him, sweet pea. If he doesn’t love Jesus, he isn’t going to love you!”
Laughing, she turned the receiver away from her mouth, so her mom wouldn’t hear her. The gospel according to Rose Dixon, she thought, pushing herself up from the patio chair. “Mom, I have to go. Try not to worry, okay, Ma? I can handle Terrence.”
After promising to call her mom tomorrow, Kyra hung up. She was inside the kitchen, fixing herself a sandwich when the telephone rang again. Worried it was her dad phoning back, she checked the caller ID box. When she saw the number on the screen, a smirk overwhelmed her lips. “How was the charity fundraiser?” she asked, picturing Terrence surrounded by geriatric patients clutching bingo markers. “I heard it was a huge success.”
“Oh, I had a great ole time. I was the only person there under fifty and had my cheeks pinched so many times they’re swollen!”
Kyra laughed so hard she dropped the bottle of mayonnaise. It rolled across the floor, before stopping at the heel of Aimee’s silver metallic shoe. Her girlfriend scooped up the bottle and smiling her thanks, Kyra gave a small wave. She’d been so busy talking to Terrence she didn’t hear the front door open, and could only imagine what Aimee was thinking after witnessing her wild outburst.
“That’ll teach you to spy on me!” she said, resuming her conversation with Terrence. “You’re lucky I didn’t write your name and phone number inside the woman’s bathroom.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he argued. “You want me all to yourself.”
“Ha!” she exclaimed. “You wish!”
“You’re right. I do.”
His words made her smile.
“Do you know what tomorrow is?”
“You mean besides Saturday?” she asked, affecting surprise in her tone.
“Come on, Ky. Don’t tease me.”
“Oh, that’s right, tomorrow’s your birthday.”
“I’m touched that you remember.”
“How could I forget? You’ve been talking about it all week!” Kyra laughed. “What time should I expect you for dinner?”
“There’s been a change of plans.” He sounded all business, take-charge, as sexy as sin. “You’ve had a tough week and you deserve to have a little fun. We’re going out so be ready at seven.”
“Don’t have to twist my arm,” she joked. Not wanting to be rude to her friend, she quickly wrapped up her conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Feeling giddy, she returned the phone to the cradle and cleaned the crumbs off the kitchen counter. “Hey girl, how was your date?”
“Boring as hell.” Aimee poured herself a bowl of cereal. “I am so done with dating celebrities. All he wanted to talk about was himself. I don’t know how he can be part of a hit group with that much ego.”
Perched on a stool in an indigo-colored dress, eating a bowl of cereal, Aimee looked chic, but out of place in the simple, modest room. “You’re going out tomorrow?”
Now seated in the stool across from Aimee, Kyra sliced her sandwich in half and took a bite. “Yeah, it’s Terrence’s birthday. I was going to make him dinner, but he suggested we go out instead.”
“He probably heard what a horrible cook you are and decided not to risk a trip to the emergency room!”
Kyra chucked an oven mitt at her. “Shut up. I’m a great cook!”
“Thanks for letting me crash here while my place gets fixed up,” Aimee said, turning serious. “I could’ve stayed with my parents, but it would’ve tacked an extra twenty minutes to my commute.”
“It’s no problem. Stay for as long as you need.” Standing, she picked up her plate and Aimee’s empty cereal bowl. “Having you here reminds me of my old college days.”
“And Terrence, too, right?”
Tension built. It was thick, suffocating, more intolerable than L.A. smog.
“You never told me why things ended?” Kyra said, trying to project an air of casual nonchalance. “What happened?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she gave a brisk nod.
“He cheated on me,” she spat. “Terrence is a smooth-talkin’ player just like every other guy in the league.”
Kyra forced air into her lungs. Her mind was spinning and she felt a burning sensation in her chest. “Are you sure, Aimee? I know he attracts a lot of female attention, but he seems so—”
“Normal?” she offered. “Open your eyes, Kyra. It’s all part of his act. Terrence comes across as being sincere, but he’ll nail anything that moves.”
Aimee’s words turned over in Kyra’s mind. Something didn’t sit right with her. If Terrence was an iniquitous womanizer, why had he rejected her the night she came on to him? Instead of yielding to her advances he’d tried to talk her out of making love.
“Now don’t get me wrong, he isn’t all bad. Terrence might be a mangy, cheating dog, but he can throw down in the bedroom!”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“But you do!” Lips curled in a smirk, Aimee opened her mouth and touched a finger to her tongue.
“That brother is hot, hot, hot!”
Chapter 18
The Peninsula Hotel was on a block swarming with boutiques, cafés and art galleries. Just off the main floor, inside the Italian-inspired lounge, international businessmen and local celebrities reclined in velvet chairs, downing flutes of rose champagne.
A group of tourists rushed off the main-floor elevator, and Terrence reached for Kyra’s hand, pulling her possessively to his side. Gratified to be seen on his arm, Kyra held on tight. It felt good being with such a popular, engaging man, and the fact that he was tall, ripped and ridiculously handsome was a definite plus.
Terrence bypassed the front desk. Having been to the hotel once before, Kyra knew they were going in the wrong direction. “Terrence, the restaurant is back that way.”
He only smiled. They walked the length of the corridor, turned right and stopped in front of a single elevator. “Thanks for making time in your schedule for me tonight,” he said, once they were alone inside the elevator. “It means a lot to me, Ky.”
“I couldn’t leave you high and dry on your birthday.”
Terrence didn’t laugh. “Is that what this is? A pity date?”
“Of course not, we’re friends and—”
“Stop saying that, Ky.” His voice was soft, but firm. “We’re not friends. You’re my girl. I thought I made myself very clear the other night.”
Their eyes locked and a delicious warmth flowed through her. Kyra broke the spell by looking away. In the silence, her thoughts drifted back to Wednesday night. Terrence had showed up on her door carrying an armful of movies, Chinese takeout and a bottle of her favorite wine. They’d had dinner by candlelight and wine by the fire. There, he’d bared his heart to her. He wanted a relationship, but if she couldn’t make a commitment to him, he’d rather they just be friends. And to prove his point, he’d grabbed his coat, said good-night, and left her sitting there—hot, horny, and flustered.
“Ky, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all night.” He observed her carefully, thoughtfully, his face lined with concern. “Are you upset with me because I haven’t made a decision about the head coaching position yet?”
Kyra stared. He was expecting an answer, but she didn’t say anything for a long moment. Gradually, one by one, Aimee’s words came back to her. He cheated on me…he’ll nail anything that moves…Terrence Franklin can’t be faithful for five minutes. Breaking things off with him was the right thing to do, and although she’d thought about nothing else for the last twenty-four hours, it wasn’t going to be easy. “Aimee’s been a really good friend to me and I don’t want to hurt her.”
He looked puzzled. “What does she have to do with us?”
“She told me what happened between you.”
“We were never a couple, Kyra. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Maybe not to you,” she snapped, annoyed by his flippant, attitude. “You hurt her, Terrence. She didn’t come out and say it, but I could tell.”
Grumbling under his breath, his voice a raspy bark, he raked a hand over his head.
“Kyra, Aimee’s a lying, scheming gold-digger.”
“You’re the one who screwed around, not her.”
“Tell me this. How could I cheat on her if we never had sex? And as for me cheating on her, that’s a load of crap. After I ran up on her with one of my teammates at an awards show, I quit calling her.”
Hearing the slight inflection of his voice, she closely studied his face. His eyes were narrowed and his shoulders were rigid. He tried to look cool, unfazed, but he failed. Unsure of what to say, but wanting to comfort him, she reached out and took his hand. “I believe you, Terrence. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“I’m not going to let anyone come between us, Ky. Not after all we’ve been through.” Terrence met her gaze on. He waited a moment for his words to sink in, then brought her into his arms. “You’re the only woman I want and I’d never do anything to hurt you. You have to believe that.”
Moved by his honesty, she apologized for starting their night off on the wrong foot. “Happy birthday, Terrence. I hope everything you wish for comes true.”
“It already has.” He pulled her close. Consumed with lust, he ran his hands down the slope of her hips, and parted her lips with his tongue. Terrence felt as if he were going to boil over and when Kyra took his hands and placed them underneath her dress, he wanted her even more. “That’s the best birthday gift I’ve ever had,” he confessed, chuckling.
Terrence pressed the single button on the panel and the private express elevator began its ascent. Luminous skyscrapers, twinkling lights and a bevy of round, brilliant stars created a stunning, panoramic scene. The 360-degree view of the Atlanta skyline took Kyra’s breath away, but when the door slid open, she shrieked with excitement.
An enclosed area with tables, fire pits and limestone flooring, the restaurant lounge had a South Beach feel and a sultry, romantic ambience. Jazz played, and peach-colored candles filled the air with their tranquil scent.
“It’s gorgeous up here,” she finally said. “I didn’t even know this place existed.”
“It’s Atlanta’s best-kept secret, and for the rest of the night, it’s all ours.”
Kyra closed her sagging mouth. “Wow. That must have been expensive.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he told her, kissing the tip of her nose. “It’s my birthday, and I wanted to do it big!”
They settled into one of the cream-and-white cabanas and within seconds of sitting down, an older gentleman arrived with the first course. Not wanting to be bothered with the rigamarole of ordering entrées, Terrence had met with the senior chef yesterday and selected each course with Kyra in mind.
Seated side by side on the pillowed couch, sampling a seafood appetizer, they discussed their plans for Thanksgiving weekend. Waiters arrived with the main course promptly at eight o’clock and when Kyra saw the flaming tray of fillet mignon, she clapped wildly. They shared a pitcher of mint julep and by the time they finished eating the dessert, she had a slight buzz. The epitome of chic, in a bubblegum-pink dress, and stilettos, Kyra looked vibrant, healthy and ready for a good time.
“Time for presents!” She reached into her purse, retrieved a small package and held it out to him. “Read the card first,” she instructed.
He did, and erupted in laughter when he read her short, personalized note. “So you think I’m over the hill, huh?”
“Just a little.” The twinkle in her eye spoke of her mischief. “That’s why I think you’ll be a phenomenal coach. You have the experience and wisdom needed to guide…”
Terrence cupped her chin. “Not another word. We’ve discussed the head coaching position ad nauseam. The only thing I want to talk about now is us.” Her scent filled him with a fervid desire, but he cooled his heels. He didn’t want to be lumped in with all the do-wrong brothers she’d dated in the past, so he wisely pulled away.
He raised the package, shook it, and laughed when she poked him in the shoulder and quipped, “Get on with it, man!”
Underneath the blue wrapping paper was an embroidered leather book. Terrence flipped it open and read the inscription on the first page. Pleasure is the flower that passes; remembrance the lasting perfume, it said. “I can’t believe this,” he said, staring down at the picture of him in his Little League uniform. “Did you break into my place?”
Her smile turned naughty. “I’ll never tell!”
There were more pictures, more memories, more color snapshots of his ten-year football career. It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given him, and he told her so. “Kyra, I love it. It’s going on the mantel as soon as I get home. Thanks, baby.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn? For what?”
The elevator chimed. The waiter returned carrying a dainty, silver tray and set it down on the table. Terrence picked up the gold box. “This is for
you.”
“Why? It’s not my birthday.”
Accustomed to dating women with expensive tastes, he was taken aback by her reaction. “Kyra, I want you to have this. It’s a symbol of how I feel about you. About us.”
After much prodding, she reluctantly took the box and tugged on the pink ribbon. The locket was the size of a jawbreaker, speckled with diamonds and the words Love, Trust And Loyalty were written in calligraphic letters. “Terrence, I…I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can. You’re my girl, and I want you to have it.” Deaf to her protests, he unclasped the chain and fastened it around her neck. The pendant shimmered in the moonlight, matching the brilliance of her wide smile. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even more beautiful.”
Staring down, she turned the pendant over in her hands. “It’s almost identical to the one you got me for my twenty-first birthday. The one…”
You threw at me the morning I left for training camp.
“Terrence, it’s gorgeous.”
Passion shot through his body like a bolt of lightning. The wind pulled at her dress, giving him a better view of her thighs. His eyes ran down her hips, then his hands followed suit. Kyra moved into his arms, and they shared a deep, soulful kiss. One that stole his breath, his thoughts and his self-control. A great tenderness came over him when she nuzzled against him, and wrapped her hands around his waist. “Have you given any thought to what we talked about the other night?”
Only every second of every day.
“Kyra, I want a future with you.”
“Don’t you think this is a little premature? We’ve only been on a few dates.”
“But I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you.” He took her hand, his fingertips playing over her soft flesh. Her placid expression worried him, but he had to speak his mind. “You’re perfect for me in every way. I want you, Ky, God knows I do, but not like this. Not if you can’t commit to me.”
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“More serious than I’ve ever been about anything.”
His words touched her deeply. She smiled, but her hands were shaking and her eyes filled with water. He swam out of focus, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Kyra was conflicted over what to do and for good reason. Aimee, her parents, and—
