The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set)

by Lashell Collins

  “It’s a surprise!”

  Brooke gave him a very exaggerated roll of the eyes, and he took her by the hand as he stood up.

  “Come on. Let’s go for a walk down the beach.”

  He led her to the french doors in the living room and they stepped out onto the back deck. And Brooke felt herself blush slightly as she glanced over toward the lounger by the pool where he had shown her the greatest pleasure last night.

  Still holding her hand, he strode to the end of the deck and unlatched the gate in the railing, and they stepped down onto the sand. They took only a couple of steps before Brooke stopped him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I want to feel the sand between my toes,” she smiled as she bent over and began removing her shoes and socks. He smiled at her as he stood waiting, and she gave him a mock frown. “Don’t tell me the great Otis Ivory doesn’t let the sand touch his feet.”

  He laughed at her teasing comment and shook his head. Then he began removing his own shoes and socks. They placed their things on his deck and closed the gate. Then he reached out and took her hand once more and started down the beach.

  The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the late morning sun shone brightly as they strolled. And Brooke watched the water rushing in, splashing over their feet and quickly retreating again. And she was acutely aware of the feel of her hand in his as they walked. It felt normal somehow. Right. As if walking hand-in-hand on the beach was something they did together all the time.

  “So, tell me about Jagged Ivory,” she said, looking up at him. “Did you always want to sing?”

  “No. I wanted to play guitar,” he answered.

  “Well you play the piano beautifully.”

  He smiled at the compliment. “I play the piano passably. The same way I play the guitar. Just good enough to get by. Not great. Not beautifully. So, I knew from the start that my dreams of rock stardom were not going to come true with my limited guitar skills. But lucky for me,” he sighed with a half-hearted smile, “hot shot came along and rescued my band from certain death.”

  “Hot shot?”

  “Noah.”

  “Your brother?”

  “Yep,” Otis confirmed with a nod. “Noah inherited the guitar skills I wish I’d been born with. I mean, I can play. And I do. I’m no Cory Dutton, but I have played rhythm and backed Cory up on several songs when we record our albums. And during a live show there are a couple of songs that we want a more full-bodied sound for, so I’ll strap on my gear on stage and jam. But rhythm is not what I wanted to play when I first picked up the guitar.”

  “You wanted to play lead?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “So what makes you think you’re not good enough for that?”

  “Because I’m not,” he answered after a slight pause. And then he smiled. “As Clint Eastwood once said, ‘a man’s gotta know his limitations.’ Playing lead guitar takes some real skill. It’s not just about playing well. You have to play well, and play quickly. Speed is a factor, and you have to be able to do it with precision. And Noah is amazing at what he does.”

  “So, when did you realize that you had this incredible voice?” she asked.

  Otis smiled at her. “When people like you started telling me I did.” She stared at him in disbelief, and he continued. “Honestly, I didn’t know that my voice was anything special when we began. I just knew that a rock band needed a front man. And if I couldn’t be the one shredding away on the ax, I was damn sure going to be the one out front!”

  “Mmm, there’s that over-inflated ego I’ve come to know and love,” she said with a smirk. And he lifted an eyebrow at her. The look made her incredibly nervous. Why had she chosen that word? “Um, so … you didn’t know that you had this rare, impressive vocal range?”

  “It’s not that rare,” he chuckled. “And no. I didn’t. But as our popularity grew, suddenly there were all these articles in music rags about my voice, and comparisons to other rock singers, and stuff like that. I gotta admit it was flattering as hell, and it did stroke my ego. But then … it was sort of like a slap in the face when our first Grammy came from a song that I didn’t write or sing lead on. Leave it to Noah to put me in my place,” he said with a good-natured smirk.

  “But the group has just been nominated for four other Grammys this year,” she offered.

  “True.”

  “So, when did you start writing songs, anyway?” she asked.

  “Oh, I started doing that years ago. Long before I got the idea to put a band together. Back then, I guess it was more like writing poetry, though,” he answered. “So when the band came together and we really started working at it, writing songs came pretty natural for me. I enjoy it.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, you’ve written songs for so many other artists besides Jagged Ivory. Pop artists and R&B. Even a few country artists,” she said, practically gushing. And Otis smiled her, a slight frown marring his brow.

  “How do you know all that?” he asked her.

  “What?”

  “I mean, it’s not a secret, but … it’s not exactly common knowledge either. Usually only the diehard fans know that shit.”

  “Oh. Well, I … I told you that I Googled you after the crash,” she said, feeling somehow foolish.

  “Hmm,” was his only response.

  “And hey, I just realized something,” she said, looking up at him. “You were talking about the Grammys before. And in the Song of the Year category this year, you’re actually nominated twice because one of the songs is Jagged Ivory’s, but another is that ballad you wrote for Kyle Dean.”

  Again, Otis smiled down at her, completely surprised that she had taken the time to learn so much about him. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I was shocked as hell when I got the call about that. That would be a trip, you know? Going to the podium for a song that Jagged Ivory didn’t sing.”

  “It’s a beautiful song. You’re obviously a very talented songwriter on top of having that amazing voice,” she said quietly.

  Otis smiled again. And he actually felt self-conscious. Unworthy even. It was a totally new experience for him, and it made him uncomfortable.

  “Let’s talk about you for a while,” he stated. “Last night, you said you’ve been dancing since you were seven?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So how’d you end up teaching?” he asked.

  Brooke took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the salty ocean air, and letting it out slowly. “Well, when I was younger dancing was all I ever wanted to do. Whenever anyone asked, my answer was always the same. I was going to be a celebrated prima ballerina and dance with a prestigious company on some of the world’s biggest stages.”

  Otis smiled as he watched her light up at the thought. “So, what happened to that?”

  “I worked my butt off all through middle school and high school because the only way Mom would agree to let me keep taking ballet classes was if I promised to keep my grades at a B average or above. So, that’s what I did. And after high school, when I signed up to take classes at the California Ballet School, she made me promise that I would also take some classes at the local community college. She didn’t want me pinning all my hopes on dance, I guess.”

  “The argument sounds vaguely familiar,” Otis said, remembering how disappointed his parents were when both he and Noah dropped out of college to pursue the band full time.

  “Yeah. Well, long story short, I ended up sticking with the college thing while I took dance classes. And I earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Dance Education.”

  “Really?” Otis could hear the surprise in his voice, and Brooke nodded her head.

  “Yep. Crazy as it sounds, I discovered that I really love teaching dance. And when I graduated, I took the job at The De Luz Studio. Been there ever since.”

  “And Sparkles?” he asked. And she rolled her eyes.

  “I took the job at Sparkles to help pay off all of my student loans and get m
y credit under control.”

  “It’s not helping as much as you thought it would?” he asked.

  She hesitated as she thought about things. “It’s making a dent in the student loans, I guess.”

  He stared at her and frowned as he studied her expression. “What is it?”

  “I, um … well there might be other reasons for being at Sparkles. Reasons I don’t talk about.”

  Otis looked at her pointedly as they walked. “Well, you can’t just throw something like that out there and then clam up.”

  Brooke smiled sadly at him. “I’ve never told anyone this. Not even Shelly. But sometimes I think that maybe I took the job at Sparkles to prove something. I was feeling the need to shake things up a little. Do something … naughty. Unpredictable. To prove that I could.”

  “Why would you need to prove anything?”

  “Well … I’m not going to bore you with the details, but … suffice it to say that I went through a pretty bad time two years ago. Just before I started dancing at Sparkles.”

  “What happened?”

  Brooke hesitated a beat, and then answered, “I went through a bad breakup. And another one before that. Both of them left me wondering what was wrong with me.”

  “I don’t understand,” Otis frowned.

  “Well, they both left me,” she said quietly. “They cheated on me. One of them cheated several times. Hell, they probably both did.”

  She didn’t tell him that neither man minced words when they told her that she was passionless. Too inhibited. Much too self-conscious and constrained to ever be considered good in bed. That was the chief complaint from both of them, and neither man seemed too concerned about putting it delicately.

  She had been crushed. And embarrassed. She had never been the flirty, outgoing, lots of boyfriends type of girl in high school. Not like Shelly. She was always more focused on dance classes than she was on boys. Exploring her sexuality wasn’t something she ever concerned herself with. And then Grant and Todd each let her know in a big way that that had been a mistake. But she wasn’t about to tell Otis Ivory any of that.

  “Anyway … the point is that I guess I just needed some sort of … proof or evidence that I could be … desired. Lusted after. That I could do something wild and totally out of character and be crazy sexy in the process, and that men would want me. Not someone else. I know it’s stupid,” she mumbled, feeling herself flush.

  Otis stopped walking and turned to face her, gently taking her face in both of his hands. “The only stupid part about what you just said is the fact that you apparently didn’t already know how sexy and desirable you are,” he said, looking into her eyes. “The only thing wrong with you, Feisty, is a former poor taste in men. Don’t you ever let another man make you feel so worthless that you go looking for approval in a strip club.”

  His eyes were burning with sincerity as Brooke stared up at him. And he leaned in and lightly kissed her forehead. Then he took her by the hand once again and turned back the way they had come. They were silent for a while as they slowly made their way back up the beach toward his home.

  “So, teaching at De Luz is your dream job?” Otis asked after a while.

  “Yeah. Well … my dream job would actually be to own my own dance studio someday. And Cleo De Luz, she owns the studio … she’s offered me an amazing opportunity to buy into the business and become her partner, but …”

  “But what?” he asked when she hesitated.

  “Well, with my shitty credit and all my debt, I just … don’t have the funds for that right now. I’ve been looking at small business loans, but … I just can’t see going into more debt for something like this.”

  Otis nodded his head as he listened. “Well, don’t give up. I mean, if that’s your dream … keep at it. You never know when an opportunity will present itself. That’s how Jagged Ivory finally got a real break. All it takes is for the right person to believe in what you’re doing and get behind you.”

  Brooke smiled at him, surprised by his words of encouragement, and he lightly squeezed her hand as he glanced down at his watch.

  “Is it time for my surprise yet?” she asked playfully, and he laughed slightly.

  “Not quite. But we do need to leave here by about four o’clock. So, we’ve still got a couple of hours to kill before time to get ready.”

  “Get ready?”

  “Mmm hmm. I believe you’ll find a few more boxes and bags in the guest room with something for you to change into,” he smiled.

  “I need to change for this surprise?”

  “Well, as beautiful and real as you look at this moment, you certainly can’t go dressed like that. I mean, you’re not even wearing shoes, for God’s sake!”

  She giggled at his joke, and Otis smiled at the sound of it.

  They made their way back to the house and spent some time watching TV and talking about everything and nothing as Brooke continued to pester him about the upcoming surprise and where they were going. Finally, he told her that it was time for them both to go get ready, and she almost squealed with anticipation. And as they ascended the stairs together, Brooke couldn’t help but think about that. She hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. Something about Otis made her feel like a little girl, and she was loving it.

  At the landing they went their separate ways, and when Brooke entered the guest room the first thing she noticed was the garment bag hanging on the outside of the closet door, and the strangest thrill went through her. She glanced at the bed and saw a box and another small bag. She didn’t know where to begin!

  She started with the garment bag, eagerly unzipping it to find an absolutely gorgeous red, backless evening gown. And this was no second-hand designer cast off from a discounted thrift shop. This was brand spanking new with tags and everything! And she gasped when she studied the price tag. The floor-length dress sported a simple beaded neckline and straps, and a pleated bust, and Brooke couldn’t wait to get in it. She rushed to the bed and opened the box to find a pair of five-inch, red metallic, Christian Louboutin strappy sandals, and a small matching clutch purse. In the bag she found a single pair of red lace thong panties, and a pair of nude silk thigh highs. He had thought of everything.

  She was taking it all in when she suddenly heard a soft knock on the bedroom door. She set the things aside and hurried over to open it, and she smiled at Otis as he stood in her doorway. He was partially dressed in a pair of black suit pants and a white dress shirt that was untucked and only halfway buttoned, and he looked alluring.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she replied. “Um, the dress … and everything … it’s beautiful, but …”

  “I’m glad you like it,” he smiled. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

  “Otis … this is all way too much.”

  He smiled at her, but ignored her protest and held up a small bag. “I forgot to leave this for you.”

  “There’s more?” she asked, astonished.

  “It’s just something small,” he shrugged.

  She opened the bag and pulled out a small bottle of perfume with a French name that she’d never heard of before. And when she opened it up and took a sniff, she was enthralled. The scent was soft and sexy and romantic.

  “It’s lovely,” she whispered.

  “I thought it smelled like you,” he said softly, looking into her eyes with the most intense expression. And Brooke felt those strange flutters in her belly again.

  “Otis, when did you have time to do all of this?”

  “Let’s just say I have a few partners in crime,” he smiled.

  “Your housekeeper and your bodyguard?” she asked.

  “No. Although they’re both doing their part,” he said.

  “You’re not going to tell me how you’re pulling this off, are you?” she asked with a smile.

  “I can’t tell you my secrets; that would ruin the magic!”

  “Are you making magic, Mr. Ivory?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.


  “Do you feel enchanted, Ms. McKenna?” he asked softly as he leaned against the door frame.

  “Very much so,” she answered.

  “Well then the spell is working,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her lips. “I’ll meet you by the piano when you’re dressed.”

  He turned and walked away then, heading back across the wide hallway to his own room. He didn’t look back, and as he shut his door, Brooke let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She closed her door in a daze, trying hard to fight the urge to rush in, full bore. She had to get a grip on herself. She had to remember that this man was nowhere near the marrying type. She wasn’t sure he was even the long-term dating type. He was a player. A ladies’ man. A wolf in rock star clothing, and she couldn’t allow her heart to get invested in him. She couldn’t let it get trampled on a third time. This weekend was about having fun and enjoying the fantasy. Nothing more.

  Running quickly to the bathroom, she washed her face and fixed her hair, pulling her long locks to one side so that her hair hung artfully over her left shoulder, and secured it with the same silver rhinestone hairclip she had worn to the wedding. Then she applied a little more mascara and tinted lip gloss.

  She took her time getting dressed, and when she stood in front of the full-length mirror in the pretty panties, thigh highs and heels, she thought about how the under things almost resembled something she would wear on the Sparkles stage. Briefly, she let her mind wonder what it might be like to dance solely for Otis, and she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have him slowly remove those panties and thigh highs and make love to her.

  Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she continued to dress. The form-fitting gown hugged her body like a second skin, and she loved the way the skirt of it fell from her hips. Her back was completely exposed all the way to the small of it, and it was a sexy little surprise to an otherwise demure and modest dress.

  She transferred her things from the small silver clutch she had carried to yesterday’s wedding into the red designer clutch that Otis had provided. Then, giving herself one last look in the mirror, she took a deep breath and headed downstairs.