Passion Overtime Read online

  Since entering the NFL, his life had been marked with excitement and drama, but in Hollington, he was just Terrence and that suited him just fine. And as he watched Kyra move through the racks, admiring shirts, and suits and dresses, he realized he had to reevaluate his plan. He was trying to do too much too soon. Outside on the street, he’d felt condemned and judged by her, but what did he expect? She’d anchored him and kept him sane when his life was spinning out of control, and how had he repaid her? By dumping her when he made it big. The only way to prove to Kyra that he’d changed was to show her. Terrence was nothing if not tenacious, and he knew it was just a matter of time before they’d be dating again.

  In the men’s department, Kyra selected a pair of cuff links for her dad and, after Terrence’s prodding, decided to have them personalized. “I still haven’t found something for my grandmother,” Terrence said, watching her. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “Does she like jewelry?”

  “Which woman doesn’t?” Chuckling heartily, he followed her over to the jewelry counter. “Maybe I should get her a brooch. She’s been collecting them since I was a kid and now her collection could rival Elizabeth Taylor’s!”

  Kyra pointed a manicured nail at the glass case. “What about that one? It’s a heart-shaped brooch set on pink diamonds.”

  “Is there something I can help you with?” a dull, sleepy voice asked.

  Terrence lifted his head, and the woman behind the jewelry counter broke into a wide smile. “Can we look at that case?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Franklin.”

  Resting the tray upon the glass, the salesclerk asked if he’d be interested in seeing the platinum collection. Before he could decide, a second, more expensive tray materialized. “I’ll get two. My mom will kill me with her bare hands if I don’t bring something for her, too!” He picked up Kyra’s hand and kissed her palm. “Do you see anything you like?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “But you didn’t even look,” he argued, signaling the clerk back over. He took great pleasure in spoiling his friends and family, and he wanted to do something special for her. This could be his chance to redeem himself in her eyes. To prove to her that he was genuinely contrite over the mistakes of his youth.

  When the clerk reopened the case, Terrence asked to see her most expensive pair of earrings. “Go on, choose something.”

  “Is this how you guys get girls?” Kyra asked, her face aghast. “You shower women with gifts and diamonds until they agree to go out with you?”

  Terrence didn’t answer. Tongue-tied, he stood there watching her, stumped. If she was going to stereotype him as just another fallacious ex-athlete, they were never going to work. “I don’t know what other men do, but I believe in treating my woman well. If that sets me back a few bills, so be it. Besides,” he added, “I love spoiling women, especially sexy, independent, don’t-need-a-man types like you.”

  She screwed her pretty face into a glare. “But we barely know each other. You’d spend five thousand dollars just like that?”

  “Barely know each other? Kyra, you know me better than anyone else.”

  “Terrence, we haven’t seen each other in years. We’re virtually strangers now.”

  “But, I’ve seen your birthmark and sucked your…” Purposely trailing off, a grin playing on his lips, he watched her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. And when she swung her gaze in the opposite direction, Terrence knew he had Kyra right where he wanted. “We better get going. I don’t want us to be late for your dad’s appreciation dinner.” He winked at her. “I can’t wait to see your family again.”

  “But what about the parade?”

  “We’ll catch the reunion float on the walk back to campus, and then we’ll jet.”

  “I don’t know about this,” she began, pushing a hand through her hair. “My dad’s really uptight and if I show up with you…I just don’t think it will go over well.”

  On impulse, he bent down and kissed her. She tasted like fruit, inciting a physical and sexual hunger in his body. “What was that you were saying?”

  At six-thirty that evening, Kyra sailed through the front doors of Victory Outreach Church on Terrence’s arm. A tantalizing scent hung in the air, inciting grumbles from her stomach and animated chatter flowed into the sun-lit vestibule.

  “Sister Kyra!”

  Recognizing the deep, low-pitched voice, she turned and smiled at the bearded man with the kind eyes. “Hi, Deacon Fisher. How are you?”

  He squeezed her shoulder, the expression on his face one of joy. “It’s so good to see you. We’ve missed you around here.”

  Unsure of what to say, Kyra gestured to Terrence. “Deacon Fisher, this is a good friend of mine—”

  He flapped his hands as if he was swatting a bee. “No introduction necessary. I know who this talented young man is. Terrence Franklin. Played nine seasons with the Dallas Cowboys until he got cut.”

  Kyra saw the muscles in Terrence’s neck tighten, but his smile stayed intact. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Deacon Fisher.”

  “Why don’t you two follow me inside?” he proposed with a flick of his head. “We’re just finishing up dinner, but I’d be happy to go around back and fix you a—”

  “No thanks. We’re not hungry.”

  “We’re not?” Terrence whispered, falling in step beside her. “I smell—” he sniffled the air “—honey glazed chicken. You sure we can’t have a little plate before we leave?”

  Kyra laughed. “Fine, Terrence. One plate, but that’s it. We’re only staying long enough to drop off the gift. Got it?”

  As they continued down the hall, Kyra admired the clean, modern building. Glossy posters and business cards were tacked neatly to the bulletin board, the painted walls were a soothing ivory shade, and the coat racks were packed with jackets and silk shawls.

  To chase away the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach, she took a deep breath. Showing up late to her dad’s appreciation dinner with a superstar athlete at her side was sure to cause a stir and when they stepped into the banquet hall, eyes bulged and jaws fell open. It was so quiet Kyra could hear an infant wailing in the church nursery. Then, after several tense seconds, everyone resumed eating.

  From across the room, Kyra saw the quick rise and fall of her father’s eyebrows, but her mom, dressed tastefully in a plum-colored suit, was waving wildly. Up on her feet, she came around the table, her long, thin arms outstretched. “Sweet pea, I’m so glad you made it. How was reunion weekend?”

  “It was great, Ma.”

  Mrs. Dixon turned her attention to her daughter’s tall, handsome date. “It’s nice seeing you again, son. How is your lovely mother doing?”

  “Great, Mrs. Dixon. She sends her love,” he said, returning her smile. “I can’t believe it. It’s been years since I saw you, but I’m the only one who got older!”

  Mrs. Dixon’s laugh perfumed the air. “Well, thank you, son. Having a smart, responsible daughter helps keep those dreaded wrinkles away and it helps that Kyra has such a keen eye for fashion!”

  Still seated, her father extended a hand. “Welcome to Victory Outreach. I speak on behalf of the other ministers when I say we’re very pleased to have you.”

  Kyra stared at her father. His smile was plastic, his voice was flat and his eyes were panning the room. She saw his gesture for what it was. An act. One he’d perfected over the course of his ministry. One that was so smooth and so polished he could beat a polygraph. He was doing his duty as head pastor and nothing more. “If you don’t have a church to attend, you’re more than welcome to worship here with us.”

  Wanting to cut their conversation short, Kyra handed her father the small gift bag. “This is for you, Dad.”

  “Kyra, honey, you didn’t have to get me anything.” He stood and put an arm around her. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever it is.”

  For the next hour, Kyra chatted with her brothers and discussed the highlights of reunion weekend wit
h Terrence. At seven-thirty, she was good to go, but just as she turned to say goodbye to her parents, the assistant pastor saddled up to the podium and asked for the congregation’s attention.

  “We’ve heard from esteemed members of the community about what a blessing Reverend Dixon is to this church, but now I’d like to open the floor to you—the congregation.” The assistant pastor stepped away from the podium and a tall, willowy woman with braids took his place. “Five years ago, I was an abused housewife,” she said, in a voice softer than a whisper. “If it wasn’t for the kindness and generosity of Reverend Dixon, I probably wouldn’t be here today.”

  Within seconds, the line behind the podium had doubled in length and people hurried to make their way to the stage. Kyra’s gaze slid to her father. His eyes were crinkled behind his eyeglasses and he was shaking his head solemnly. “I can’t believe this, Rose…this is all so overwhelming.”

  Mrs. Dixon kissed her husband’s cheek. “You’ve touched a lot of lives, honey, and the members want to show their gratitude.”

  Kyra felt a tickle in her throat. She’d never been close to her father, but when she heard the humility in his voice, she wondered if their relationship could ever be repaired. Battling feelings of fear, anger and sadness, she lowered her eyes to her lap. To preserve her sanity, Kyra had pushed what happened that fateful afternoon in June to the back of her mind, but she’d known that she’d never been able to trust her dad—or any other man again.

  Chapter 17

  Kyra breezed past the staff room so her boss wouldn’t catch her ducking out early. It was only three o’clock, but she was tired. Tired of working late, tired of arguing with Mr. Morrow about effective fundraising strategies and tired of doing everyone else’s job.

  The last two weeks had been filled with long, drawn-out team meetings, but tonight, she was going to put her feet up and enjoy a quiet evening for one. That is, unless Terrence calls and invites me out for dinner, Kyra thought, smiling to herself.

  Since the reunion, her opinion of Terrence had changed. He used humor to mask his feelings, but once she’d scratched the surface, she discovered that he cared and respected everyone. Players complained that he was too strict, but since Terrence had started working out with the team, no one had had missed practice or skipped class.

  When Terrence was around, laughter abounded. He was a perfect gentleman and so damn charming, she’d started to believe he cared about her. They text-messaged each other throughout the day, had lunch in town and talked for hours on the phone.

  Kyra was inside the elevator, waiting impatiently for passengers to file on, when she realized she didn’t have her wallet. Remembering she’d put it in her top drawer after ordering some books online, she began the arduous task of debarking the jam-packed elevator. Squeezing out from behind a pendulous man who made Rueben Studdard look thin, she mumbled her thanks and dashed back down the hall.

  Kyra opened her office door and almost tripped over her feet. Nikki was crouched behind her desk, riffling through her bottom drawers. The intern was so busy with her search, she didn’t even notice her standing there. “Nikki, what are you doing?”

  Hands pressed to her chest, she stepped back from the desk. “What are you doing here? I thought you left.”

  “And I thought we were friends.”

  Nikki lowered her head.

  She’d shamed the girl into silence, but that didn’t make Kyra feel better. Knowing Nikki as well as she did, she knew there was something else going on. “Is this about your tuition?” she asked, remembering the intern’s outstanding bill. “If you needed money, why didn’t you just come to me? I paid my way through college, and I still remember what a stressful time in my life that was.”

  Kyra didn’t tell Nikki that she’d considered dropping out her junior year. Her friends had tried to talk her out of it, but after coming up short on her rent for the third consecutive month, she’d decided to withdraw from her spring semester courses to square her debts. Then, just days before her scheduled meeting with the academic advisor, a large sum of money had been deposited into her bank account. To this day, Kyra still didn’t know who’d done it. None of her girlfriends had that kind of money, and although Terrence had wanted to help, he was strapped for cash, too. Her parents had poured every penny they had into their church, and she knew the bank wouldn’t give her mom and dad a loan if Bill Gates was the co-signer.

  Yes, she knew exactly what Nikki was going through. Most people didn’t think ten thousand dollars was a lot of money, but it had changed her life. Without the stress of working a second job, she was able to focus on her studies and made the dean’s list for the first time that semester, a tremendous accomplishment in a university that had some of the brightest students in the country.

  “Nikki, there’s no excuse for what you did, and if President Morrow finds out about this, you’ll be suspended, or worse, expelled.”

  “This is bad.” Face marred in anguish, she dropped her hands at her sides, and released a plaintive sigh. “Terrence is going to be so disappointed when he finds out—”

  “Terrence? What does he have to do with this?”

  Nikki came around the desk, shut the door and motioned for Kyra to sit down. Plunking down on one of the padded chairs, she swung her feet restlessly back and forth. “I’m going to tell you something, Kyra, but I don’t want you to get angry.”

  Thinking the worse, she gripped Nikki’s arm. “You promised me you wouldn’t go back to dancing, Nikki. I don’t care how much that sleazy club manager offered you, you can’t put a price on your—”

  “Relax, Kyra,” she said, interrupting. “I’m not shaking my ass for money.”

  “Good.” Her frown returned. “All right, so tell me what the big secret is and what it has to do with you snooping in my desk.”

  “I met Terrence at the Dallas Airport on my way back to school in August,” she began. “I didn’t say anything because…”

  Remembering the fiasco at The Tavern with Aimee and Terrence, she blurted, “Oh, my God! You slept with him, too?”

  Nikki laughed. “No, he’s fine as all be all, but I love Rocco. We’re getting married as soon as he’s done his time.”

  Making a mental note to introduce Nikki to the Lions’ adorable backup quarterback at next Sunday’s game, she asked the intern to continue. “Okay, so you met Terrence at the airport. What does that have to do with this?”

  “We got to talking and discovered that we both knew you.” Her smile deepened, and her voice was suddenly dreamy. “He told me you guys were engaged back in the day, and said he wanted to spend time with you while he was here.”

  Kyra impeded a smile.

  “So,” she continued, “when he asked me to e-mail him a list of your favorite restaurants, bars, shopping centers and other places you like to go, I said sure. Who am I to stand in the way of true love?”

  “That’s how he knew I’d be at Centennial Park that afternoon…” she trailed off, as realization dawned. For the past month, they’d bumped into each other at the most unusual places. The gas station, the grocery store and even last Friday at a fast food restaurant. “This community is so small I just assumed it was a coincidence.”

  Nikki shook her head. “Nope. Mr. Man is sweating you hard, girl!”

  “He sent me a text message a few minutes ago, asking if I knew what your plans were tonight. I was looking for your planner when you walked in,” she explained. “Hey, did you know you left your wallet in the top drawer?”

  Battling feelings of anger and hope, she nodded absently in response.

  “You should be really careful of where you put your stuff, Kyra. You never know who might be lurking around.”

  “You’re right about that,” she murmured.

  “I’m sorry for sneaking around behind your back,” she confessed, lowering her eyes to her lap. “Blame Terrence! He’s so nice and charming, it’s hard to say no.”

  I hear you, Kyra thought, remembering how he’d
snuck a kiss yesterday at dinner when her brothers were shooting pool. As strong and assertive as she was, she was no match against the suave superstar athlete.

  “And not only did he get me and my girlfriends into that Snoop Dogg party, he gave me two hundred dollars for my trouble.”

  “I’m going home. I can’t deal with this right now.” Kyra stood, wrenched open her top drawer and retrieved her wallet. As she turned to leave, a thought came to mind. “Do me a favor, Nikki. Call Terrence back and tell him I’ll be attending the charity fundraiser at the Hilton hotel tonight.”

  “Should I arrange a town car to pick you up or will you be driving yourself?”

  Smirking, her eyes tinged with mischief, she said, “Oh, I’m not going.”

  “Ooh, you’re cold! Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

  Kyra laughed. She’d gotten back at people before, but this was going to be one for the record books. “Take notes, Nikki. It’s called payback, Kyra Dixon style!”

  “Sweet pea, pick up, it’s Mom!”

  The sound of her mother’s voice jolted Kyra awake. She heard the plaintive sound of birds and watched the sunset ablaze in crimson and orange. Her breathing slowed, but her legs continued tingling with desire. Kyra didn’t know women could have wet dreams, but she had the telltale signs of someone on the verge of an orgasm.

  A groan of frustration rose in her throat. Not only was she not making love to Terrence on rose-scented sheets, she wasn’t in the comfort of her bed, either. She’d dozed off on her patio chair and now had hideous drool stains on her fitted cashmere top.

  Smiling to herself, she listened to her mom chatter merrily on the answering machine. The phone base was inside the living room, but her mother’s sweet, Southern drawl carried for miles.

  “Hey, Mom,” she greeted, after locating the cordless on the end of her lounger and pressing the receiver to her ear. “What are you doing up so late?”

  “I couldn’t sleep, sweet pea, and I was hoping we could talk.”