Adrianne Byrd - Tender to His Touch

Stunned, Beverly blinked at him. “You graduated at Hollington?”

“Sure did. Four of the best years of my life. Now it’s coming back to me.” He laughed. “You used to hang with Kyra Dixon, right?”

“Yeah.” She continued to struggle to place his face.

“I used to be on the football team with Terrence Franklin. Offensive lineman.”

Beverly experienced a flicker of a memory—tall boy, tight ass, hazel eyes. “I think I do remember you,” she said, smiling. “What a coincidence.”

“I’d say.” His smoldering gaze roamed over every inch of her. “Boy, you’re just as beautiful today as you were back then.”

Beverly’s blush deepened. “I love it when a man lies to me.”

“We never officially met back then,” Lucius confessed. “But I remember peeping you out on more than one occasion.” He set down his drink. “Tell you what. Since I’m heading to Cork myself, what do you say I give you a lift?”

It wasn’t exactly smart to jump in a car with a man she hardly knew.

He leaned forward and gave her a wink. “I promise, I’m harmless—despite my being a lawyer.” He stood from his stool, tossed a few bills onto the bar and then offered her his arm. “C’mon. Live a little.”

Beverly could almost hear Clarence cussing her out if she turned down this fine brotha. It would be nice to actually walk into Cork on a handsome man’s arm. Plus, who knows how the rest of the night might end up?

Girrrrl, you are going to get laid for sure.

She certainly hoped so. “All right. Let’s go.”

Beverly felt wicked as she allowed Lucius to escort her to his car. It had been years since she’d allowed a man to pick her up in a bar. In fact, she would have to think back to all those wild college spring breaks when she’d been so daring. She kept waiting for her conscience to kick in, for reason to stop her from jumping into this man’s car; however, that little voice never came. Instead, desire and lust seized her body, making her willing to see just how this whole night would play out.

“After you,” Lucius said, opening the passenger door.

Her gaze locked onto his and caused another spark of electricity to flow between them. “Thank you.” Slowly, she dipped into the seat.

Lucius closed the door and rushed around to the driver’s side. “I can’t believe that I’m actually escorting the homecoming queen,” he chuckled, gliding into his own seat.

“Oh, please. Don’t go on about that.” She rolled her eyes. “That was a very long time ago.”

He strapped on his seat belt. “But you’re riding in the parade Sunday, right?”

“Unfortunately.” Beverly sighed and wondered once again how Kyra had talked her into wearing that godforsaken crown and waving to the crowd. In her opinion, there was nothing worse than an aging beauty queen trying to recapture her youth. Back in the day, she thought nothing of pursuing all those titles—heck, there was good scholarship money attached to those pageants. Now that she was older, she just found the whole thing…silly.

She chuckled. Those were those same words her father used to use. He never once liked the idea of her trotting before a phalanx of judges, normally in a skimpy bathing suit, to be judged. It was sort of funny that it had taken her so long to finally agree with him.

Lucius started the car and Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor” poured out of the speakers.

“Oh, I love this song,” Beverly gasped. “I used to blast it all time back in the day.” She rocked in her seat and cooed the lyrics to the song.

Lucius laughed and bobbed his head. “Not bad,” he praised. “Baby girl got skills.”

“I can hold a note or two.” Beverly turned down the volume. “Good enough for car concerts only.”

“You’re selling yourself too short.” He hit her with another deep-dimpled grin that had her feeling as if she was sitting next to a childhood crush. There was no explanation for why she reacted the way she did to him. She had known plenty of good-looking men in her life. A lot of them were confident achievers, too, but Lucius…he had this whole other vibe going. It was this whole sexy-cool thing that had her hanging on his every word—even when he said something cheesy.

A few minutes later, they arrived at Cork—a posh wine bar in downtown Atlanta. The place was so packed that they had to drive around a couple of times before he discovered one parking place in the back of the building. On the outside, the place looked small and quaint, but once inside it was a large open space with dark wood floors. Wine barrels lined one wall while another entire wall was a large mahogany bar behind which were rows and rows of wine bottles.

Tall tables and stools were located off to the sides, leaving the center open for mingling. Soft piano music filtered from hidden speakers and the lighting was somewhat subdued, giving the place a warm, sexy vibe that Beverly was really feeling.

“This is nice,” she commented, glancing around. Everyone looked beautiful in their fancy cocktail dresses and casual suits.

“Beverly? Is that you?”

Beverly turned to see a gaggle of women quickly surround her.

“I don’t believe it! Look at you. You look beautiful,” the leader of the pack exclaimed, taking Beverly by the shoulders and literarily forcing her to do a pirouette.

Beverly beamed a smile at the woman, but after scanning her memory bank, she was unable to place the woman’s face with a name. This is starting to become a trend, she noted. “Why, thank you,” she said when the woman finally released her. “It’s so good to see you. How are you doing?” Maybe if she kept the woman talking, she’d be able to figure out who she was.

“Doing good. Just landed a morning spot on CNN and—” she flashed her diamond ring “—married to Damon Woods. Eight years and still going strong.” She laughed and batted her long faux lashes. But it was how her voice squeaked and skipped that finally made Beverly clue in to whom she was speaking with. Darcy Knight—which meant that the three women flanking her were Kitty Kirkland, Natalie Coles and Keri Evans.

Instantly, a few inches were shaved off Beverly’s smile. She and Darcy had an unspoken rivalry back in college and high school. It was nothing that was perpetuated on Beverly’s end, but Darcy lost both homecoming queen titles to Beverly, as well as placing second in the Ms. Georgia Teen and Ms. Georgia pageants. When they weren’t competing, Darcy chased after David like a bitch in heat and she was constantly biting Beverly’s look from hairstyles to clothes.

Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if the past ten years had been particularly easy on her. At a cursory glance, Darcy’s yaki weave didn’t exactly match her unrelaxed crown, plus she had on way too much makeup and she’d easily gained fifty pounds. And her happy clique suffered the same fate.

“Is this one of your creations? I heard you were a fashion designer now,” Darcy asked, acid dripping from her voice.

“Why, yes. It is. Do you like it?”

“It’s…cute,” Darcy drawled. “You know I thought about going into the fashion biz, too, but I much prefer to work in something a little more serious.”

Beverly blinked, but before she had the chance to respond to that backhand slap, Darcy changed the subject. “So how’s David?” Darcy asked, casting a curious look over at Lucius. “Word is you two tied the knot right after college.”

“We did,” she confirmed. “And now we’re divorced.”

Darcy and her gang’s faces collapsed in mock sympathy. “Oh, I’m sooo sorry to hear that,” Darcy said. “Of course, I always thought that you two were an odd fit.”

Her girls bobbed their heads in agreement.