Passion Overtime Page 18

  Staring at her left hand, she smoothed a finger over the pear-shaped diamond. “Micah said he couldn’t live another day without me, and I burst into tears. I was crying into his handkerchief when a helicopter appeared out of nowhere, trailing a banner that read, “Tamara Hodges, will you marry me?”

  Tamara’s eyes filled with tears. “Sorry, I’m a little hormonal.” Smiling through her tears, she said, “Enough about me. I want to hear what’s going on with you and Terrence. Chloe said you guys have been hot and heavy ever since reunion weekend.”

  A smiled overwhelmed Kyra’s lips. Of all the men she’d dated, Terrence was the most romantic. He was creative and spontaneous and was always looking for ways to show his love. They were comfortable with each other, and every time they made love, Kyra felt closer to him than ever before.

  “So it’s true?” Tamara wiggled her eyebrows. “I don’t even have to ask if he’s the one. It’s written all over your face. That cute, little-girl smile says it all. You’re in love!”

  “We’re in a good place,” she said, fingering the locket absently. The diamond chain was far too expensive to be wearing it around the office, but Kyra couldn’t bring herself to take it off. Since Terrence had surprised her with it, it had remained firmly fastened to her neck. Touching it now, she marveled at how quickly her life had changed. Four months ago, she was convinced that she’d have to launch a worldwide search to find her dream man and now she had Terrence.

  It was an open secret that they were dating, but Kyra had been stunned when Mr. Morrow cornered her in the student union center and asked if they were serious. His Phil Donahue smile had showcased every tooth and his eyes had been light-bulb bright.

  “Terrence and I might be a couple, but he’s not making my job any easier. He still hasn’t accepted the head coaching position, and Mr. Morrow’s really been applying the pressure. Girl, things are so bad, I dive into my office every time I see him coming down the hall!”

  Comfortable with Tamara, and confident she wouldn’t be judged, she shared her deepest fears. Kyra could picture her future and saw Terrence standing right there beside her, but her thoughts were ruled with doubts. “I love Terrence, but I can’t help thinking about our past. Do you think I’m in way over my head? I mean, you’ve heard the stories about Terrence. Do you think he’s incapable of settling down?”

  “Girl, please, behind every woman is a man who used to have bad-boy tendencies,” Tamara said, chewing a mouthful of salad. “From what I saw on reunion weekend, you have nothing to worry about. Terrence obviously loves you, Kyra.”

  Feeling better, and not wanting to monopolize the conversation, she asked Tamara about her new life in L.A. Glowing with health and happiness, Tamara spoke about the wedding and the plans for the baby’s nursery. It was miserable-looking outside, but her sorority sister’s enthusiasm was catching. In no rush to return home, Tamara suggested they go see the new Jennifer Aniston movie. Kyra agreed, and when her girlfriend left to use the bathroom, she dialed Terrence’s number.

  “Hey babe, how are you?”

  The sound of her boyfriend’s voice made her heart race. A smile formed on her lips, but inside she was feeling a storm of emotions. Everyone was coupling up and riding off into the sunset. First Chloe, then Tamara. Next, Beverly would be calling to say she’d eloped. Since reunion weekend, Beverly had been secretly dating someone but refused to say who the mystery man was.

  On the phone, Terrence spoke about his appointment with Marie Vasteles. He’d been to see the herbalist twice since and though he was still having trouble sleeping, he admitted to feeling stronger and more alert. “We’re meeting at The Tavern at six, right?”

  “Do you mind if we stay in tonight?” she asked, fiddling with her napkin. “Shaunice is working late and I’m just not in the mood to play tonight. Tamara and I are going to see a movie, but I should be home by nine.”

  “How’s Mom and baby doing?”

  Frowning, Kyra gripped her cell phone, pressing it closer to her ear. “You knew Tamara was pregnant? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Micah called and told me the good news a couple days ago. They didn’t waste any time, did they,” he joked.

  “I know. Tamara’s practically bursting with joy, and every word out of her mouth is either about Micah or the baby. It’s sweet.”

  “We better hurry up and jump the broom before we get left behind!”

  “Terrence, don’t joke about things like that. Marriage is important to me and—”

  “Who said I was joking? Just because we haven’t talked about marriage, doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about it, too.” He added, “But we can discuss our future when I come over tonight, all right?”

  Kyra melted. One of the things she’d always loved about Terrence was his ability to read her. Everything was so easy with him, so right. It didn’t matter what they were doing or where they went, they always had a good time together. Being with him was an adventure, and Kyra had never felt more alive. And when they got off the phone a few minutes later, a seductive plan was forming in her mind. A bottle of wine, a blindfold and her boyfriend would be flat on his back singing her praises.

  “Baby, where are you?” Terrence called, kicking off his shoes. A soft light streamed into the foyer, and as he walked down the hall the scent of strawberries grew stronger.

  Inside the living room, potted candles emitted a peaceful glow and Kyra was standing beside the entertainment unit holding two flute glasses. Wearing a multicolored tunic sweater, leggings and skinny heels, his girlfriend looked incredibly youthful and fun.

  “Hi, honey.” She walked over, and handed him a glass. “I’m glad you made it.”

  Terrence returned her smile. “You look tempting.”

  “Thanks. That’s the look I was going for.”

  Her large brown eyes were fringed with incredibly long lashes, and despite slaving over a hot stove for the last two hours, she smelled like fruit.

  “Looks like you went to a lot of trouble.” His gaze toured the room. A bed of extra large pillows were in the middle of the floor, gold plates sat on a small raised mahogany table and dried flowers stood in round decorative vases. “Umm, is that your delicious garlic cheese loaf I smell?”

  “Uh-huh.” Kyra reached up and kissed him, but when she tried to pull away, Terrence held on tighter. The tantalizing text message she’d sent him earlier had riled him up, and he needed more than just a peck on the lips. Deficient in self-control, he ran his hands down the slopes of her hips and inhaled her sweet, floral perfume. “I think we should skip the main course and start with dessert.”

  “You would!” she quipped.

  Terrence reluctantly released her arm. He watched her leave, mesmerized by the erotic rhythm of her walk. Sliding a hand into his coat, he checked to make sure the ring box was still in his inner pocket. He’d been carrying around the diamond for the last three days, but tonight it felt as if it were burning a hole into his chest. He relished the thought of Kyra being his wife and although they hadn’t discussed tying the knot, he was confident she’d say yes. Or at least her mother had assured him she would.

  “Dinner is served!” she said in her best French accent. Kyra sailed into the living room carrying a ceramic dish, and when she sat down beside him and fed him a stuffed mushroom, Terrence knew he’d never look at food quite the same way again.

  They ate, laughed and shared long, deep kisses between sips of red wine. He’d always loved her eternal optimism, but as she told him about her afternoon run-in with President Morrow, he couldn’t help feeling guilty.

  Terrence hated to see her stressed out and soothed her fears with a kiss. If not for his uncertainty about his future, he would have already popped the question. Inside, he could feel himself changing, growing, become a more caring, considerate man. And it was all because of Kyra’s love. He felt her hands on his chest and shuddered. Her touch, though soft and warm, made him hot all over. In three weeks, he’d be going back to P
ittsburgh for Thanksgiving, and the thought of being without Kyra terrified him. He’d invited her to come home with him, but she hadn’t given him an answer yet. Will I be returning home alone, or with a gorgeous, new fiancée?

  “I know you’re probably sick of me asking you this, but have you come to a decision about the head coaching position? Mr. Morrow wants an answer by next Friday and I promised him I’d let him know what was happening one way or another.”

  Seated with her legs outstretched and her hands clasped, she looked worried and vulnerable. “This has been a tough decision, Kyra, one I haven’t taken lightly. I—”

  Terrence broke off when he heard Aimee’s voice in the distance. Let down that their intimate party for two was about to be interrupted, he motioned with his head toward the foyer. “I thought you said she was going back to Houston this weekend?”

  Kyra shrugged. “Her plans must have changed.”

  “We’ll talk about the coaching position later,” he whispered, lifting her chin for a quick kiss, “after we have dessert!”

  A minute later, Aimee sashayed into the living room and greeted them with a wave. “Hola!” Eyebrows arched, she sank into the armchair and swung her legs over the side. “What are you guys up to?”

  “Nothing much. Just a quiet evening at home.” Kyra finished her wine and returned the empty glass to the tray. “Is everything all right?”

  “Uh-huh, things are fine.” Aimee plucked a chicken spring roll off the plate, studied it, and then pushed it into her open mouth. “Not bad. It’s a bit salty, though. I would have boiled the meat first before grilling it. It’s still tough inside.”

  “That’s just the way I like it.” Terrence pulled Kyra to his chest and gave her a wet, sloppy kiss. Aimee was a vain, know-it-all and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why Kyra was her friend. Uninterested in what Aimee had to say, he smiled at his lady love, marveling at her natural, feminine beauty. “Thanks for dinner, baby. It was delicious and—”

  The TV drowned out the rest of his sentence. “Do you guys mind if I watch TV in here? That dinky little set in the spare bedroom is a piece of junk.”

  Terrence started to speak, but Kyra said, “No problem. We’ll all watch together.”

  Smothering a sigh, he stood and picked up the dirty dishes. This was the second time Aimee had popped up in the middle of their date, and as he stalked out of the living room, he thought he saw a small triumphant smile on her lips.

  Chapter 21

  Kyra sat up in bed. Blinking sleepily, she stared down at the empty space beside her. Last night, she’d remained in the living room with Aimee, while Terrence watched TV in the bedroom and by the time she finally came to bed, he was asleep. It wasn’t the ending to their date that she’d imagined, but it wasn’t too late to make it up to him. Wondering where he was now, she slipped out from between the covers and grabbed her robe.

  Worried that Terrence was sitting in the living room downing aspirin with whiskey, she hurried from the bedroom. Despite the hour, Kyra was sharp and alert and as she descended the staircase, she heard a low, humming sound coming from the kitchen. The microwave. Shaking her head, she allowed herself a wry smile. Of course. Terrence was heating up the leftovers.

  Voices echoed off the hardwood floor. Her feet skidded to a stop when she heard Aimee’s girlish laugh. “Kyra’s my girl and everything, but she’s not the right woman for you, Terrence. You need someone worldly, and sophisticated.”

  “Is that right?”

  To keep from falling, Kyra reached out and gripped the banister. Fear filled her heart, and it felt as if her mouth were packed with sand. Terrence joked and even teased other women, but he always knew where to draw the line. So why was he in the living room flirting with Aimee?

  “Why did you lie to Kyra about us? We never hooked up and you know it.”

  “It’s not too late. You could come back to my room.” Her high-pitched tone grew husky. “Kyra will never know. It’ll be our little secret.”

  Heart pounding, eyes stinging, Kyra choked down the emotion clogging her throat. Waves of sickness and dizziness washed over her. Why would Aimee do this to her? She’d taken her in when no one else would. Her betrayal was like a stiletto in the back, but what hurt more than anything was her cold, superior attitude.

  In a fury that verged on madness, Kyra flew into the living room just in time to see Aimee fling her arms around Terrence. He pushed her away, but she didn’t release her hold. Her breasts fell out of her tank top and her shorts were cut so high, Kyra could see her red G-string. Aimee was so busy grinding against Terrence, she didn’t notice Kyra standing in the doorway. “Get out of my house. Now.”

  Aimee flinched. “H-hey girl. What are you doing up? I thought you were—”

  “Ky, I know this looks bad, but it’s not what you think,” Terrence interrupted, reaching for her. She pushed his hands away, but he grabbed her arm. “Nothing happened between us. I don’t want her, baby. I only want you.”

  “I told you he was a dog!” Bottom lip quivering, face flushed with heat, Aimee produced a stream of fat sloppy tears. “I came downstairs to get some water and this…this creep propositioned me!”

  “What?” Glaring, teeth clenched, Terrence gave his head a hard shake. “I came on to you? Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t sleep with you for all the money in the world.”

  “You’re just mad because I turned you down.” Disgust peppered her words as she spoke. “Why would I want an old, washed-up athlete when the new quarterback of the Falcons is blowing up my phone? You’re a has-been, Terrence, and nobody wants you.”

  Putting an end to Aimee’s rant, Kyra pointed at the front door. “You have five minutes to get out, or I’ll put you out.”

  “B-but it’s four o’clock in the morning,” she stammered. “Where am I supposed to go at this time of night?”

  “I don’t care, I just want you out.” Kyra couldn’t resist adding, “Why don’t you call the Falcons’ quarterback?”

  “You’re going to let a guy come between us?”

  “I heard you, Aimee. I heard every filthy, backstabbing word that came out of your mouth.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t give in to her emotions. “I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore, so leave.”

  “I didn’t mean it,” she protested. “I just wanted to see if he’d go for it. Please don’t do this, Kyra. You’re the only friend I have.”

  “And now I know why. You might want to rethink throwing yourself at men who don’t belong to you.” Deeply saddened, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. Despite what Aimee had done, Kyra was going to miss having her around. “Go and get your stuff, or I’ll start tossing it into the trash.”

  Her pupils dilated. “You wouldn’t.”

  Patience exhausted, Kyra spun on her heels, determined to make good on her threat.

  “Okay, okay, I’m leaving.” She made a great performance of straightening her clothes, then stomped out of the room and up the stairs.

  “Kyra, it’s not what it looked like.”

  “It looked like you were about to screw my best friend.”

  “You think I’d actually be stupid enough to sleep with Aimee while you slept upstairs?” His voice was low. “Is that how little you think of me?”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “I couldn’t sleep so I came down here to get something to eat,” he began, meeting her gaze. He looked tired, as if their argument had sucked the life out of him. Unsparing in his criticism of Aimee, he told Kyra about the stunt she’d pulled last week out in the garage. “I’m sorry, Ky. I thought Aimee was just messing around. I should have said something, but I didn’t want to cause problems between you guys.”

  Silence descended. Minutes later, Kyra heard Aimee in the foyer. The front door slammed, and the tears she’d been holding in threatened to break free. Terrence stroked her shoulders. His touch stilled and quieted her, but she didn’t go willingly into his ar
ms.

  “Do you want me to leave?” He swept an errant strand of hair off of her cheek. “I understand if you want to be alone. You’ve had a rough night, and the last thing I want to do is cause you any more pain.”

  Kyra wanted him to stay, but the words stuck in her throat. What she needed was time. Time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. His hands skimmed her shoulders, warming her weary body. Kyra had zero desire to make love, but when they returned upstairs, that’s just what they did.

  Flopping down on a padded swivel chair, Kyra scooted forward and slid her hands under the nail dryer. It was Wednesday afternoon, and although it was storming outside, Unique Nails was filled to capacity.

  Rain dribbled down the window, and lightning flashed in the sky. Strong winds blew, breaking twigs off trees and swirling litter in the huge parking lot.

  Hearing Shaunice’s voice behind her, Kyra glanced over her shoulder. Her best friend was perusing a shelf lined with nail polish, pausing every few seconds to read labels and admire bottles. “It doesn’t take ten minutes to pick out a color,” Kyra commented, noting the time on the wall clock. “At this rate, we’ll never get out of here.”

  “Okay, I think I’m going to get Passion Pink.” Cotton wedged between her toes, she waddled on the balls of her feet to the station where a slim manicurist was waiting. Seeing the stack of women’s magazines on the desk reminded Kyra of the last time she’d been at the salon. She and Aimee had sat in the waiting room, sipping their lattes, laughing hysterically at the fallacious stories about their favorite celebrities.

  Sighing heavily, Kyra crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. Every time she thought about what Aimee did, she was consumed with anger. The personal chef had proven to be a backstabber, skilled at deception. But Aimee’s tactic had backfired, bringing her and Terrence closer than ever. In the last two weeks, Aimee had left dozens of teary messages on the answering machine, but Kyra hadn’t returned any of her calls.