Tzara's Heart

by Drea Riley

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  Red Rose Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Drea Riley

  First published in 2008-02-13, 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Tzara's Heart

  By

  Dréa Riley

  Dedication:

  I would like to dedicate this book to my sisters, Raq and Jeanie. You are my inspiration. I couldn't ask for better sisters. I love you always.

  My muse, oh yes, Miss Von-Glorious. You know what you do.

  The MFP Posse™ because you ladies truly are the business!

  To my CWB; you are my world.

  If I missed anyone, duh hello, I am just getting started. You know who you are and what you mean to me!

  Love and Chaos!

  Dréa

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Tzara's Heart by Dréa Riley

  Red Rose Publishing

  Copyright© 2007 Tzara's Heart by Dréa Riley

  ISBN: 978-1-60435-131-6

  ISBN: 1-60435-131-4

  Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett

  Editor: Terri Morris

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

  Red Rose Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Forestport, NY 13338

  Tzara's Heart

  By

  Dréa Riley

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

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  Chapter One

  It was Valentine's Day and Tzara Johnson was melancholy. It wasn't that she hated Valentine's Day. Actually, it—like every other over commercialized holiday—was her favorite. She loved the pomp that accompanied the big V-Day—the decorations, the sounds, the hustle. Yeah, she loved it all ... but not today. In spite of the festive decorations, today was just a blah day. For her it felt like a drab, rainy day, instead of a bright, brisk day for lovers.

  Business was good. In fact, it had been great all year. Since the launch of Sweet Seduction Desserts two years ago, business had been fantastic. Because of the Internet, she was even able to make a name for herself around the globe. Not bad for a college dropout even if she did say so herself.

  She let out a satisfied sigh and smiled as she set about finishing the last specialty order. She'd been up since before dawn to perfect the heart-shaped raspberry cheesecake decorated with sugared rose petals that sat before her. Not many people knew that rose petals were in fact edible, so she was surprised when she'd received the order. The unique request had made it impossible for her to inform the customer that roses were out of season right now. And though she could've gotten blossoms from the florist, there was no way to ensure that they hadn't been treated with pesticides or other chemicals. She honestly didn't expect the petals to be consumed, but when paired with a sparkling sugar glaze they not only made the perfect visual accent, they were temptation. Because she had a good feeling about the customer, she made a rare sacrifice to select blooms from her own green house.

  As always, she smiled when thinking of the flower-filled haven. Her grandfather had designed the building so that her grandmother could grow her prize-winning flowers year round. Included amongst her grandmother's blooms were the stunning American Beauties, which had fuchsia, full-bodied blooms; Texas Prides, which had the amazing aroma of pink lemonade; the signature Black Magic, which had deep purple blossoms; and her favorite, Nana's Gift, a flower that her grandmother had cultivated for her birth, which had soft, pastel lilac-coloring. They had all given up their petals to be part of this lovely, decadent gift.

  Someone was a lucky lady, she smiled to herself as she snapped a picture of her work with the digital camera before boxing up the finished delight. After putting it in cold storage, she sent a quick text to her neighbor's son. He was the best delivery boy she'd ever had. She would be sure to leave him some extra brownies as well as a mini torte for his girlfriend.

  She took her time wiping down all the stainless steel counters, making sure that every utensil and bowl was cleaned and put away before she set the ovens to self-clean. Singing softly to herself about the finding of true love and wishes coming true, she mopped the floors.

  It may seem strange that she delighted in setting her kitchen to rights, but for her, cleaning the kitchen wasn't simply a chore. It was a loving gesture as the kitchen was not only her favorite room; it was her favorite place—especially her kitchen. The antebellum home had been a legacy from her grandmother, who had considered the kitchen as sacred space. And it was, for it had served as the heart of their family.

  Over the years, she'd lovingly restored the home, although she'd made a few changes. Chief amongst them was the air conditioning system. When you lived so far east in Texas that you were nearly in the Louisiana Bayou and you made your living in a kitchen with more than one oven going, you had to have adequate cooling. Thankfully, her daddy and brothers owned and operated a heating and air conditioning business, so she'd only had to pay for parts to get the house properly outfitted.

  Other than the central air, the only structural change that she'd made was the kitchen itself. After the steady increase in business over the last two years, she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep up with the growing demand without expanding. Getting advice from other bakers, she nixed the idea of renting commercial space and decided to have her kitchen renovated instead. Trusting the massive undertaking to two of her childhood friends, she watched with a mixture of awe and nervousness as the kitchen was transformed.

  Every time that she stepped into her haven, she was amazed. The kitchen had always been her sanctuary, but after the renovation, it had become her Sistine Chapel. She had to say that she was totally impressed with the design.

  Her biggest fear was that with a massive overhaul like this it would detract from the integrity or the beauty of the aged home, but her fears were unfounded. Her friends had patiently listened to her and gently guided her through the process. They didn't try to sell her a bunch of stuff that she didn't need, nor did they allow her to do something completely ridiculous. The result was amazing.

  Gone was the cozy country haven of her childhood and in its place stood a modern room nearly three times the original size. If one didn't know better, they could easily think that this kitchen was in a five-star restaurant. Gadgets and gizmos of all kinds competed with top-of-the line stainless steel appliances. She also had a cutting edge cold storage for all of her dry goods.

  She was impressed every time she entered the space. Only her best friend Leslie knew that she'd been equally impressed with master carpenter. Damn, who wouldn't be?

  Jason Martin had been every bit as yummy as her grandmother's peach cobbler on a cold winter evening. Built like a Mack truck, he had to be pushing seven feet tall. When she said damn near seven feet in height, she wasn't exagge
rating. She knew that he had to be close to that in height because he had to duck through some of the doorways that her dad at 6'3” breezed through.

  Jason was all muscle and brawn, wrapped in a slow, sweet southern disposition. His thick mahogany tresses were just a bit longer than was fashionable for most of the men around these parts. His thick hair was streaked with honey-colored highlights that weren't salon creations; rather they were created by working long hours in the sun. That beautiful hair framed a chiseled jaw that was broad and squared.

  Deep green eyes peered from lashes that made her want to finger them and check for mascara. His nose seemed to fit perfectly in his face, not too big, not too small. And Lord those lips. Those lips. Those lips. What could she say about them? Many a day she'd offered him sweet tea and lemonade just to be jealous of the glass that touched those lips.

  She'd wanted to lick the beverages from those lips to see if it would taste sweeter. Damn, she wanted to be close to his mouth and while she was all up in his personal space, she could run her hand over those well-defined abs she'd seen when he'd installed her new counters.

  Closing her eyes, she could imagine running her hands over the muscles of his back before dipping lower and clenching his tight, round ass with her fingers. Not hard—just hard enough to leave her mark.

  Tzara was so lost in her memory of Jason that she nearly fell over the mop when Kevin tapped her on her shoulder.

  "Hey, short stack, I didn't mean to scare you. I got your text. Just came to pick up the goods so that I can make the delivery before I have to pick up Cherry,” Kevin said.

  Tzara was embarrassed at getting caught daydreaming. If she'd been any deeper into the fantasy she would have needed to be upstairs in her bed taking herself over the edge. Gathering herself, she nodded and waved Kevin toward the glass-fronted cooler.

  "Thanks Kev. Listen I put a little something extra on your paycheck. It's on the shelf over there. Plus, you have some brownies and a little something special for your sweetheart too."

  Smiling at Kevin's reaction, she waited until he had pulled out of the long drive before locking the door and crossing the tiled floor. Sighing, she pulled the apron over her head and gathered it and all the linen from around the kitchen to toss into wash before she headed upstairs to shower.

  It was nearly 9 am and she still had the entire day ahead of her. She was having lunch with her best friends then a solo day at the local spa. Although she was spending yet another Valentine's Day alone, she didn't dwell on it.

  She began to strip as she rounded the corner at the top of the stairs to her room. Pulling her t-shirt over her head, she mopped some of the sweat and flour off of her face. Simultaneously, she kicked off her ballerina slippers and began unsnapping her button-fly jeans. Stretching, she sighed as the air swirled over her skin. It was going to be a hot day. What else was new in East Texas?

  What else was new, she wondered again. Well, nothing. She was still short, curvy and single. Maybe that was what had her mood slightly off balance today. Normally she loved Valentine's Day but this year she wished she had someone besides herself and her friends to spend it with.

  Gail and Leslie both had plans that included someone special for the night. She was the only one without even a prospect of getting laid tonight. Yup, that was what was really wrong with her. She was horny as hell and no one but herself to help remedy the problem.

  She pulled the clip from her shoulder length black curls and noted she hadn't had a new hairstyle since she'd moved home and started her business. She eyed her body in the mirror. Yup there she was in all her glory.

  At 5'7” tall, she was the shortest person in her family now that her grandmother was gone. She was dipped and curved like a woman should be. Her breasts were high and proud and her thighs were thick and heavy and flowed down to smooth knees only slightly darker than the rest of her smooth milk chocolate-colored skin. Her calves were heavy but not too big and her ankles where just shy of being dainty. In her opinion, even her feet were pretty. They weren't meaty nor were the boney, but they suited her body.

  Catching the glint of the rhinestone at her navel, she smiled. She flicked the rhinestone, setting the little crown in motion. It was a birthday gift from Gail and Leslie. All three of them had gotten a piercing last year. She grinned considering their peculiarities.

  Gail loved playboy bunny charms; Leslie had a collection of daisy charms; and Tzara had a collection of tiara charms. Tzara was sure that if their parents had known just half of the things their grown daughters were doing, they'd have them all back home and on curfews in record time.

  Shaking her head at that thought, she turned and headed to the bathroom, thanking her lucky stars that her grandmother had embraced the modern world and had that little gem added before she'd passed. It would really be a pain if she'd still had to go down the hall all of the time, not that she had to worry about running into anybody.

  Laughing, she stepped into the shower letting the warm spray of the shower soothe her. Knowing despite being single, she was blessed; she sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving determined to wash her blues down the drain. She didn't linger in the shower wanting to arrive at the café before the girls did so that she could surprise them with their favorite dessert: cupcakes topped with Kool-Aid icing.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  Tzara smiled and hummed along with the stereo as she drove home. It had turned into a wonderful day, despite her moody start. She'd had a wonderful lunch with her girls and an awesome day at the spa. Deciding that she was going all in, she'd had her legs and bikini line waxed, and been massaged and oiled until her skin hummed with a delicious energy.

  Looking at herself in the rear view, she smiled again at the new highlights darting through her curls. Warm reds, browns and blonds gave her an air of wild mystic that she'd been missing for a while. Her spirit was on high. She was even thinking about hitting one of the local clubs. She may not have a date for lover's day but that didn't mean that she had to sit home alone and pout about it.

  Pulling into the garage, she waited for the door to close before letting herself into the house. She was just entering the living room when she heard the answering machine beeping. Being that she'd been out for the better part of the day, she wasn't surprised to have several missed calls. She just hoped none of them were last-minute orders. As a rule, she simply didn't accept them. Rushing pastries and desserts was not a good thing.

  Twirling one of her bouncing curls around a finger, she idly listened to the messages while contemplating which, if any, club she should go to. There were several calls from her various family members and one from Kevin thanking her for the brownies. She was about to leave the room when the last one played. An oddly familiar voice sent shivers down her spine and stopped her in her tracks.

  "Miss Johnson, uh Tzara. Hi, this is Jason Martin. I helped remodel your kitchen last year. Anyway, listen I have been wanting to call you. I know that four months is a long time, right, but I didn't want to compromise our business relationship. Anyway I was wondering if we could get together some time. That is if you don't have someone in your life right now. It's 12:45 now. I'll wait for your call.” He left a number and the call ended.

  Tzara stood staring at the machine. Hot-as-hell Jason Martin had called to ask her out! The man she'd been dreaming about on those nights when she needed to take the edge off. The man that she imagined atop her when she found her release alone was actually on her machine asking her to go out! It couldn't be a mistake. He'd said her name.

  She played the message three more times to be sure. Oh, the fates were playing in her favor! Glancing at her wristwatch she noted that it was nearly five in the afternoon. Crossing her fingers, she hoped that she wasn't too late as she dialed his number with shaky fingers.

  * * * *

  He picked up on the first ring. “This is Jason."

  Tzara pressed her hand to her lower belly to quell the trembling as is deep voice
resonated in her ear.

  "Hi, uh Jason. This is Tzara ... Tzara Johnson. Listen, I just got home and was returning your call."

  She was impressed with herself for sounding so calm. Excited didn't even begin to describe how she was feeling. Though she wanted to shout out her joy, she settled for doing a silly version of a touchdown dance in her head. Taking another deep breath, she made her way to the stairs and headed for her room.

  "Tzara, I am so glad that you called. I hope that I didn't come off as too forward, but well, I've been thinking about you for a long time and since business has let up for a while, I'm going to be home more; I was hoping you and I could get together. Maybe get to know one another."

  Tzara did dance then. She turned a quick little circle and mouthed “Yes” a million times. Trying to keep her sexy voice in place, she leaned against the wall in the hallway

  "Well, Jason. I'm so glad that you called and I would love to meet up with you. I don't have any plans for tonight. Well, I was thinking about going to one of the clubs, but you know it's not anything carved in stone."

  She closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. "Lord, please, please, please let him say we can do something tonight. What better gift to myself than fine ass Jason Martin."

  Jason's deep laugh touched something in her womb and made her gasp into the phone. “I'm glad your plans are flexible. I wasn't sure you would call so I didn't make reservations anywhere, but if you want to you could come to my house and I could cook for you. Maybe we could watch a movie or something."

  The way he said or something made the breath catch in Tzara's throat.

  "Or something,” she parroted not really aware of how husky her voice had become. She could have sworn she heard him moaning. Clearing her throat gently she sighed. “Yeah, I would love to cum ... come to dinner at your place. Can I bring anything?"

  "I hate to sound cliché, but no, you don't have to bring anything but yourself unless you have a particular movie you'd want to see."