She stepped back. “This is not a good time—or place.”
Lucius looked around, caught the curious stares and then nodded as if he understood. “Well, what would be a good time—and place?”
Clarence rounded the corner from the back room. “Well, I guess I better get…” He stopped and with one glance at Beverly and Lucius knew something was up.
“Hello,” Lucius said, flashing his breathtaking smile.
“Weeelll, heeelllooo.” Clarence sashayed his way to Beverly’s side. “Now who do we have here?”
An image of two trains colliding flashed behind Beverly’s closed eyelids.
When it was clear that she wasn’t about to make the introductions, Lucius thrust out a hand to Clarence. “Hello, I’m Lucius Gray. I’m an old college friend of Beverly’s.”
“Lucius?” Clarence’s perfectly groomed brows jumped, and then his eyes slowly drank in Lucius’s profile while his own sly smile slid across his face. “Well, nice to meet you. I heard sooooo much about you.”
Beverly groaned and wondered if it was too much to ask for someone to shoot her.
“Oh, really?” Lucius’s gaze swung to Beverly, who didn’t doubt that she was at least fifteen different shades of red. “I guess I should be flattered.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Clarence said, still checking him out. “And I’m jealous.”
“Clarence!” Beverly snapped, finally finding her tongue again.
“What? I’m just telling the truth.”
“Isn’t it about time for you to go back to work?” she hissed, glaring at him.
“Actually, I…um, promised Leslie I’d help her clean up behind the counter,” he lied and turned toward the counter, which wasn’t far enough away, so he could eavesdrop.
“So you told him about me?” Lucius said.
Beverly turned back to Lucius, wanting to get him out of the shop fast. “Look, this really isn’t a good time.”
“Maybe I’m the one that needs to be embarrassed,” he said, ignoring her protest. “After all, I thought what we shared was supposed to be private. You know, just between me and you.”
She actually felt a prick of guilt.
Lucius leaned forward and whispered, “It’s okay. I forgive you.” When he stepped back, he winked.
Feeling as if she was just involved in some type of rope-a-dope, Beverly shook her head to clear her mind and then grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the door. “Thanks for stopping by to forgive me, but…”
Lucius didn’t budge. In fact, he seemed content to remain standing right where he was. “I haven’t said why I stopped by,” he said, seemingly amused by her flustered state.
She pulled him again, but he still didn’t move.
“I wanted to return something to you.”
Beverly stopped, her eyes narrowed with mistrust. “Return what?” She swore to herself that if he whipped out a pair of panties or something she would go ballistic. She watched him carefully as he reached inside his pocket and…produced an earring.
“I found it in the car when I gave you a ride that Saturday night.”
Clarence snickered and then coughed like he was choking on a gigantic chicken bone.
Beverly was now twenty different shades of red as she snatched the earring from his hand. “Thanks. Now will you go?”
Lucius realized that this whole thing was going terribly wrong and he needed to change up his approach or risk walking out of there and never seeing Beverly again. “Maybe we should start over,” he suggested. “I get the impression that I’ve upset you.”
Beverly crossed her arms and glared at him. “Now why on earth would you get that impression?”
Clarence popped up like a jack-in-a-box. “Don’t mind her. She always acts like an old fuddy-duddy.”
“Clarence!”
“Sorry,” Clarence said, though he didn’t look the slightest bit sorry as he slinked back toward the counter.
Beverly turned back toward Lucius. “We had a deal, remember?”
Lucius shrugged. “Deals can always be renegotiated.” He slid his hands into his pants pockets and rocked on his heels. He was taking a big chance laying it all out like this. “I’d like to come back to the table.”
She was shaking her head before he was finished talking. “I—I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m not ready to dive into any kind of relationship right now.” Beverly glanced around, hoping she was talking low enough. “Please go.”
He considered her words, and then stepped closer to her. “It doesn’t have to be a traditional relationship,” he whispered. “We can just continue on the same course that we were on. Sex with no strings attached.”
Beverly blinked.
Hopeful since she didn’t immediately reject the idea, Lucius moved even closer so that their bodies brushed lightly against one another. “I don’t know about you but I haven’t been able to forget about that weekend.”
The mistrust in her eyes vanished and was replaced with remembrance and longing.
“You can’t tell me that you haven’t been thinking about it, too.” He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Surely, you remember how good we are together. I remember how deep and tight your body felt, and how much you quiver when you’re about to come.”
She closed her eyes as he continued.
“It’s like tiny little earthquakes while you tighten around me, literally causing my toes to curl and my lungs to collapse as I struggle to breathe in your scent.” For emphasis, he took a deep sniff of her floral-scented hair. “Say you’ll go out with me again. I promise you, you won’t regret it.”
Beverly quivered as if experiencing a phantom orgasm just from the memory of their coupling. When she opened her eyes, she was staring into Lucius’s hazel eyes, which were glazed with passion.
“Say yes,” he whispered.
“I—I—”
“Say yes,” Lucius insisted gently.
“I—I—”
“Yes!” Clarence shouted.
Beverly jumped and then sprang away from Lucius. How in the hell had she forgotten where she was?
Clarence rushed back to her side and took over the conversation. “Yes. She’ll go out with you. What day is good for you?”
Lucius blinked. “Well, um, how about this Friday night?”
“She’ll be there.”
“Clarence!”
“Shut up, girl. You don’t know what’s good for you,” he said, waving her off. “What time?” he asked Lucius.
“Uh—how about seven o’clock?”
Beverly tried to jump back in. “The store doesn’t close until—”
“She’ll be ready,” Clarence said, wheeling and dealing. “Do you have her address?”
Lucius frowned. “Actually, no.”
“Leslie,” Clarence called.
Leslie popped up next to them and handed him a scrap of paper.
“She’ll be ready promptly at seven o’clock. Don’t be late,” Clarence said.
“Clarence—”
“Don’t pay her any mind,” he insisted to Lucius. “I’ll have her dressed, ready and possibly tied to a chair. Just leave the details to me.”
“And me,” Leslie chimed in.
“What is this—mutiny?” Beverly asked.
“Yes!” Clarence and the rest of her employees shouted.
Astonished, Beverly stood there with her mouth opened.
Amusement lit Lucius’s eyes. “Seven o’clock it is.”
But Clarence wasn’t through. “Make sure you bring flowers, champagne and condoms.”
“Clarence!” Beverly shouted, stomping on his foot.
“Ouch!” He hopped away from her. “All right. All right. Forget the flowers.”
Laughing and stuffing her address into his pocket, Lucius finally turned toward the door. “See you Friday night.”
Chapter 13
“I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this,” Beverly whined as she watched Clarence rummage thro
ugh her walk-in closet for what seemed like the millionth time. He was in search for the perfect outfit for her date.
“I don’t see what the big damn deal it,” Clarence said, holding up another dress for Leslie’s inspection. “It’s not like you had anything to do.”
Perched on one corner of Beverly’s bed, Leslie chimed in, “I think I like that one the best.”
Clarence’s face lit up over the periwinkle blue one-shoulder gown. “I like this, too. She could rock it with a nice pair of silver hoops and those black pumps we saw a few minutes ago.”
Leslie bounced and clapped her hands. “She’ll need a little bling around her neck, too.”
“See, girl. I like the way you think.” Clarence winked.
Beverly rolled her eyes. “Does anybody care what I think—or want?” she complained.
“No!” Clarence and Leslie shouted.
Beverly flinched, astonished by their unrelenting bossiness.
“Besides,” Clarence said, laying the dress out on the bed, “I highly doubt that you even know what you want—other than to be left alone in this gilded suburban prison that you cherish so much.”
“Ouch.” Beverly frowned from the sting of his words.
“Sorry, baby, but the truth hurts. The sooner you face it, the faster you can heal.”
Instead of responding, Beverly sat on the edge of her bed and continued to pout with her bottom lip poked out.
Leslie took pity on her and went to her side. “Really. What’s the big deal?” She shrugged. “He said there would be no strings attached.”
“That’s what he said the last time and yet he just pops up out the blue. Looks like a big, long string to me.”
Leslie persisted. “He told you—to return your earring.”
Beverly placed a hand against the young girl’s cheek while she shook her head. “You poor, poor naive little girl.”
“If you’re so scared about strings, then don’t whip it on him so hard,” Clarence reasoned. “Girl, you need to stop treating men like they have the bubonic plague.”
“I don’t treat them like that. I treat them like they have the cheating plague. Men aren’t designed to be faithful—especially when things get tough. I learned that the hard way.”
Clarence wasn’t falling for it. “Girl, will you exhale already?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “I’m a man and I refuse to believe that nonsense.”
“Me, too,” Leslie said, frowning. “I believe that there is someone for everybody out there.”
Beverly looked at the girl as if she had just dropped from the sky. “How old are you again?”
“Leave her alone.” Clarence pulled Leslie to his side. “Ain’t nobody talking about you two being faithful. This isn’t that kind of relationship. Lucius made that perfectly clear. We are talking fucking…screwing…getting your groove on. Whatever the hell you want to call it. You can’t tell me that the last time you two bumped uglies that you didn’t come back to work mellow as hell. Damn, we couldn’t get you stop singing around the store.” He looked at Leslie. “What the hell was the name of that song she was singing?”
“‘I’m Every Woman,’” Leslie answered, smirking.
“Uh-huh.” Clarence bobbed his head, grinning. “Came back looking and acting all brand-new. Now you’ve gone back to being a tense sourpuss.”
“Am not.” Beverly folded her arms and pushed her bottom lip out farther.
Clarence finally relented and went to sit next to her on the edge of the bed. “Look, all we’re saying is that you need to look at this as every once in a while you need a little…tune-up to keep you in a good mood. And who better to do that with than that gorgeous hazel-eyed hunk? Girl, you were holding out on me. You didn’t tell me that he was that fine. Don’t think I didn’t check out the dick imprint in those pants the other day. Mr. Lawyer Man is working with some serious equipment. Oookaaay?” He held up his hand and Leslie delivered a high five.
“Boy, you’re a fool,” Beverly said.
“No, girl. You’re a fool if you don’t stop looking a gift horse in the mouth. Now hop in the shower and wash your hair so I can blow you out, real quick.”
With a final pout, Beverly stood and then shuffled her way toward the bathroom. Once she was in the shower, she faced her own insecurities about tonight. The real reason she was nervous about seeing Lucius again was that she didn’t trust herself. She had just barely managed to walk away from him three weeks ago. The emotions that he so easily accessed scared the hell out her. Lucius was the kind of man any woman could fall in love with—herself included. It was really that simple and that scary. What if the next time she couldn’t walk away? Would love and all its thorns scar up what was left of her heart?
The last time Lucius had been this nervous for a date, he had to think all the way back to his junior prom. That night he was convinced that he was going to throw up all over his sixteen-year-old date, mainly because her father was like the police chief of the Atlanta Police Department and he’d not only threatened to kill Lucius if anything happened—harmful or sexual—to his daughter, but he also promised that no one would ever find his body.
There was a lot of pressure riding on this date with Beverly. Mainly because it had been harder than he anticipated to convince her to go out with him again. Actually, he didn’t convince her—her friends brokered the deal. If things went wrong tonight he had every reason to believe that she would kick him to the curb again and the door of possibilities would close forever.
It wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together and conclude that Beverly’s hesitance about dating had everything to do with her ex-husband, David Clark. Lucius would never forget how shaken up Beverly had been when David popped up at the reunion’s Sunday brunch. There was a wound there still in need of healing. The crazy part was that lately he’d been thinking about him being the one to heal it. The train on which his thoughts were traveling was headed straight to the town of hypocrisy. What the hell did he know about healing old wounds? He had an ex-wife who couldn’t stand him and a daughter she frequently used to emotionally blackmail him. The only way he dealt with his own issues was to bury himself in work.
Like Beverly did.
He frowned. Truth of the matter was that they had more in common than he thought.
Following the directions that were displayed on his GPS unit, Lucius turned on the long spiraling driveway leading to Beverly’s house. “Nice,” he said, as the stunning two-story brick home came into view.
Coming down the same driveway, Lucius rolled past a black Buick LaCrosse that suddenly blew its horn. He glanced over and saw Clarence and Leslie waving.
“Have a good time! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Clarence hollered and then sped past him.
Lucius laughed and shook his head. “Maybe I should put those two on my Christmas list.”
However, when he climbed out of the car, there was no mistaking the eerie sadness that permeated the air. Can a house be sad? He shook his head, dismissing the crazy thought. He rang the doorbell and while he waited for Beverly to answer, again he glanced around the house and shivered when a strong gust of wind blew and caused a slew of fall leaves to stir and dance.
He heard footsteps approach and then a second later, the front door pulled open and revealed a different but even more stunning Beverly, compared to just a few days ago. “Wow.”
She smiled. “That was just the reaction I was aiming for,” she admitted.
Lucius’s smile widened. “You changed your hair.”
Beverly patted one side of her now-shoulder-length hair. “I just changed it back to its original color. You like it?”
“I love it,” he said, staring at her golden locks. They matched her eyes perfectly.
As usual she wore a knockout dress that hugged her thick and dangerous curves. Lucius’s erection started to tent his pants. Belatedly, he remembered the gifts in his hands. “Oh.” He held up a bright bouquet of yellow roses and yellow Peruvian lilies. “I
hope you like them.”
Beverly beamed and took a good whiff of their fragrant scent. “Yellow for friendship.”
Lucius tapped the side of his temples to indicate how much of a thinking man he was. “And—” he lifted the bottle in his other hand “—champagne.”
Beverly’s eyebrows arched with amusement. “Does that mean that I don’t have to guess what’s in your back pocket?”
“Well,” he said, grinning, “an old Boy Scout always comes prepared.”
She shook her head and then stepped back so that he could enter. “Come on in.”
He crossed the threshold and stepped into a yawning stillness that felt a lot like a graveyard. Determined to put on his best face, he glanced around the immaculate and beautifully decorated home and said, “Nice place you have.”
“Thanks. Come on in.” She led him to the living room and gestured toward a full-length leather couch. “I’ll be right back.”
Lucius nodded and sat down, still taking in the place. The moment Beverly left him alone in the living room, he was uncomfortable about the house’s silence. At his place, at least there were the annoying crickets chirping out in the yard. Here, there was nothing.
It was odd.
He continued looking around. The place was spotless and something told him that the room hadn’t been used in a long time. He didn’t know how he knew that, he just did. Plus—something was missing.
Lucius stood from the couch and slowly walked around the room. There were plenty of nice knickknacks, an impressive mirror over the fireplace and an interesting silver art-deco clock on one wall and…
Then it hit him. The room lacked warmth, a sense of identity and character because there were no pictures. Women usually loved pictures and yet there wasn’t a single frame on the fireplace mantel, tabletop or wall.
Beverly suddenly reappeared with the flowers in a vase. “Here we go. I’ll just set these down over here,” she said, placing them on the glass coffee table. “There, that looks nice.”
“Beautiful,” Lucius agreed, halfheartedly. He was ready to leave. “I guess we better get going. We have reservations.”
“Oh. Okay.” She smiled and they both walked back to the foyer, where she retrieved a light black dress coat. “Where are we going?” she asked.
Tender to His Touch Page 10