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Body Heat. Adrianne ByrdЧитать онлайн книгу.

Body Heat - Adrianne Byrd


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Gwen mumbled.

      Nikki shook her head. She didn’t know if her friend was making it better or worse.

      “One virgin piña colada,” the bartender said, returning. “I even added an extra pineapple wedge.”

      “Thanks,” Nikki deadpanned. But as she stared down at the tropical drink, she didn’t really have the urge to drink it. “Maybe Gwen is right,” she said. “It’s too soon for all of this.”

      Gwen bobbed her head in agreement.

      “Nonsense. Whenever you fall off a horse, you get back up,” Antoinette said, pushing Nikki’s drink toward her.

      Nikki didn’t respond. She was too busy listening to Michael Jackson scream “Beat It.”

      “Maybe what you need is a little vacation,” Antoinette finally conceded, “someplace where you can just get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”

      “Yeah, someplace where they don’t know your name,” Gwen added.

      Antoinette angled a hard glare at her friend.

      “What? I’m just keepin’ it real.”

      “Well, unless this magical place can be reached by the subway, I can’t afford it. And hell, to be honest, I can’t afford that.”

      Her friends’ faces collapsed in disappointment. After a few jams from Bobby Brown and Prince, Nikki sighed. “It would be nice to get away.” She took a long sip of her frosty drink. “Somewhere tropical, exotic.”

      “Hmm. I know a place like that,” said a woman sitting to Nikki’s right.

      “Really?”

      The woman shrugged. “I used to date this really good-looking guy out in Atlanta. Actually, he was more along the lines of gorgeous.” She laughed. “Anyway, he has a beautiful vacation home out in Saint Lucia that he hardly ever goes to. Have you ever been to Saint Lucia?”

      Nikki shook her head.

      “Beautiful.” The woman rolled her eyes. “White sand and a breathtakingly blue ocean. And the people there are so nice. There’s not a day that I don’t dream about going back to that island. Hell, I could stay at that big old empty house of his and he’d never know it.” She laughed.

      Nikki perked up. “Really?”

      “Really,” the woman reaffirmed.

      The wheels in Nikki’s head started turning and a smile started to creep across her face.

      “Oh, how I wish I could have snagged a ring from that man.”

      “Why didn’t you?” Gwen asked, leaning forward. It was nothing for Gwen to jump into someone else’s Kool-Aid and stir it around.

      “Because Hylan Dawson is not the marrying kind.”

      Chapter Three

       18 months later…

      Gisella’s and Charlie Masters’s hands overlapped as they gripped the knife and together sliced into a popular Sinful Chocolate creation: white chocolate and lemon cake. The happy couple smiled at the wedding photographer and then at each other before shoving a handful of the decadent dessert into each other’s faces.

      Laughter rippled through the large gathering of friends and family and then a cheer went up when Charlie then tried to kiss and lick his wife’s face clean.

      “I love you, baby,” he whispered, snapping their bodies together despite the small baby bump and dipping his head for a long, soulful kiss. She tasted so sweet.

      “Je t’aime aussi,” she responded when he allowed her to come up for air.

      Charlie groaned at the instant hard-on he acquired whenever Gisella spoke French. Now that they’ve said their I dos, Charlie was ready to skip right to the honeymoon, so much so he found himself asking Gisella every five minutes, “Can we leave now?”

      Charlie laughed as his mother gripped his cheeks and tried to pinch the blood out of them. “My baby has made me so proud. Not only did you give me a beautiful daughter-in-law, but I’m finally getting my grandbaby.”

      “Anything for you, Mama.” He kissed her cheek.

      “Of course you know I was right,” she added, releasing his cheeks. “Didn’t I tell you if you found a woman who could cook like your mama then you had a winner?”

      “That you did, Mama.” He wrapped his arm around her.

      “I just wish your father was here to see this day,” she said. “Married and about to become a father. He would be so proud. I am.”

      “Thanks Mom.” He kissed her lovingly on her upturned cheek.

      “Mama Arlene,” Taariq Bryson, a fellow Kappa Psi Kappa brother, greeted her with a wide smile. “I don’t know if Charlie told you, but we talked it over and he’s completely cool with calling me Daddy. All you have to do now is accept my proposal. I’ll make an honest woman out of you.”

      “You’re so bad.” Arlene blushed as she gave Taariq a welcoming hug. “Now when are you getting married?”

      “As soon as you say yes.”

      She rolled her eyes. “You just love me for my fried chicken.”

      “That’s not true. You make a mean sweet potato pie, too.”

      Arlene laughed and then continued to giggle like a schoolgirl when Taariq asked for a dance. As he led her to the dance floor, Charlie was left to shake his head.

      “So you finally did it,” Hylan said, stepping forward and slapping his large hand across Charlie’s back. “You waved the white flag and surrendered to the enemy.”

      Charlie laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t start that with me.”

      “What?” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m just saying. We were supposed to be playas for life. Remember?”

      Derrick Knight, another fraternity brother, rushed up behind Hylan and quickly put him in a headlock. “Whatever he’s saying, don’t listen to him.”

      “Oh, he’s harmless.” Charlie chuckled. “I’m just waiting for the day when he starts waving his own white flag.”

      “It’ll never happen,” Hylan croaked from under Derrick’s arm.

      “It doesn’t make any sense to be so hardheaded,” Derrick said, releasing him.

      Hylan inhaled a deep breath and then playfully lunged a left jab at Derrick’s shoulder. “Mark my words. A brother like me ain’t going down without a fight. You’ll have to pry my playa card out of my cold dead hands.”

      “All right,” Derrick said. “We’re going to hold you to that.”

      “Charlie,” said Stanley, the only white Kappa brother in their clique, as he joined the group. “Your wife’s cake is off the hook. What’s her secret, man?”

      “She didn’t make this cake. Her assistant Pamela insisted on making the cake as a gift. She did a good job.”

      “Pamela, huh? Where is she?” Stanley turned to survey the crowd. “Maybe I’ll marry her.”

      “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear it,” Charlie laughed. “Start with baby steps. Try to get a date first.”

      “Or try to get a woman to stand still long enough for you to introduce yourself,” Hylan added, laughing. It was a tradition to give the lanky redhead a hard time.

      “Ha-ha. Ya’ll gonna get enough messing with me.” Stanley scanned the crowd again. “There’s gotta be someone here I can hook up with. Weddings are the best places for single people to


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