Hollington Homecoming, Volume Two: Passion Overtime

She said nothing, just continued dressing the mannequin and humming to the Smokey Robinson song playing in the background.

Kyra heaved a heavy sigh. This was not going as she’d planned. One of her girlfriend’s less laudable traits was definitely her stubbornness, but if she was going to convince Beverly to attend reunion weekend, she had to get to the heart of the matter. “So, that’s it? You’re not going and there’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind?”

Beverly gave a brisk nod, then changed the subject by asking how her meeting with Terrence Franklin went. “I was picking up some fabric at my favorite store on Monday and it seemed the whole town was abuzz with the news of his big return.”

Kyra thought about the scene she witnessed yesterday at The Tavern. She’d stopped in for lunch, but when she spotted Terrence and Mr. Morrow eating beside the far window, she’d ordered her chicken salad to go. Shielded by a large, imposing floor plant, she’d watched Terrence in all of his celebrity glory. Fans scurried over to his table for autographs, pictures and hugs. For months, there had been speculation that he would come out of retirement before the trade deadline, and his silence heightened the media’s interests and fueled every sports blog in the country. Kyra didn’t like that Terrence was playing both sides of the fence, but until he signed on to coach the Lions, she didn’t have a say in the matter. “Yeah, his arrival has generated a lot of good press for the school. We’ve received hundreds of online applications, and we had so much traffic on the Web site yesterday, it crashed!”

“I bet,” Beverly agreed. “After all, he is the pride of Hollington.”

“I’m lining up as many interviews as I can. I even contacted my old sorority sister, Tamara Hodges, about doing an article on Terrence becoming the Lions coach.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You got him to sign on already?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

Beverly started to speak, but her words were drowned out by a shrill, piercing laugh. Realizing they needed privacy, Kyra grabbed Beverly’s hand and dragged her into the back office. Where the boutique was bright and glitzy, the office was a simple, understated space teeming with fashion magazines, invoices and poster boards. “Now,” Kyra began, closing the door and standing in front of it, “spill it. What’s the real reason you won’t go to the reunion?”

Beverly stood her ground. “You’re not going to change my mind, so you might as well save your breath.”

“The class of ’99 voted you Homecoming Queen, Beverly. How’s it going to look if you don’t show up?”

“Like I’m a popular fashion designer who has orders to fill.” Straightening up, she folded her arms across her chest, her gaze drifting to the open window. “Kyra, I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’ve moved on from beauty pageants and modeling contests. I want to be taken as a serious businesswoman and that’s not going to happen if I’m riding on top of a flowered float.”

In an effort to keep the peace, Kyra listened to what she had to say without interrupting. Beverly was frowning, and Kyra could tell by the faraway look in her eyes that her mind was somewhere else. “Why does it feel like you’re blowing me off?”

“I’d never do that,” Beverly insisted, shaking her head. “We’re friends, remember?”

“Then can a sister get a discount on that gold Ralph Lauren gown?”

Beverly gave a brief sputter of laughter, her eyes soft with a radiant glow and her oval face bright with cheer. It made Kyra feel good to see her girlfriend smile. All she ever did these days was stay cooped up in her office working. More than anything, Beverly needed to start living again, and three days of partying, drinking and socializing was just what the doctor ordered.

“Hanging out with old friends is just what you need. You’ve been divorced for almost two years, but you haven’t been on a single date. I’m not telling you to go out there and party like Paris Hilton, but live a little, girl! Go to the reunion, and have a good time. And if you see someone who catches your eye...” Kyra trailed off, her glossy, red lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “There are going to be plenty of handsome, eligible brothers at the reunion, Bev. It would be a shame for you to miss out.”

A smile broke through. “You must be very good at your job,” Beverly teased.

“I try,” Kyra sang, laughing. Sensing a subtle shift in her friend’s mood, and anxious to get her on board, she continued. “Homecoming weekend is your opportunity to shine. Do you know how much business you’ll drum up for the boutique just by being there wearing one of your gorgeous, one-of-a-kind creations?”

“I never even thought of that. It would be great for business, wouldn’t it?”

Kyra nodded. A hard-driving perfectionist with an eye for detail, Beverly had created a line of mermaid-style gowns that had been worn on the red carpet by some of Hollywood’s leading women. In the last six months, her celebrity clientele had tripled and her name was on every fashionista’s lips. “Please, Bev? You’re going to have an awesome time during reunion weekend. I just know it.”

Beverly shrugged. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, you’re going all right,” Kyra vowed, lobbing an arm around Beverly’s shoulders, “because I won’t take no for an answer!”

Chapter 4

Cyclists in spandex shorts and wraparound sunglasses clogged the bike trail at Centennial Park. Pressing down the heel of her Rollerblade skates, Kyra slowed and waited until she was past the ten-man group before resuming her speed.

Chest heaving, arms swinging like a skier catapulted off a mountain, she shot down the hill on her Rollerblades, feeling as light and as free as a jaybird. Seagulls squawked, dogs barked and the sound of children’s laughter rippled on the sultry, red-hot breeze. After a stressful day, in-line skating was just what Kyra needed to clear her head.

Invigorated by the scents and sounds of summer, she skated up the winding path and decided to do a third lap through the park. Kyra didn’t know if she’d be able to get out of bed tomorrow, but she wasn’t ready to pack up and go home.

Kyra plucked her tank top with one hand and wiped her forehead with the other. Sweat dripped off her face and chunks of hair clung to the back of her neck. Insects buzzed around her, but she was feeling too good to be bothered. Next month, her sorority sisters would be back in town for their ten-year reunion and there was no telling what trouble they’d get into this time.

Punching up the volume on her iPod handheld, she moved her shoulders and hands in tune to the beat. The Destiny’s Child song made her reflect on her college days. Lately, she’d been doing a lot of self-examination. Ever since Terrence showed up, she’d been having one flashback after another. Turning away from her thoughts, she chose to admire the bright, fragrant flowers swaying in the breeze.

Joggers ran alongside their dogs and seniors strolled leisurely along the narrow trail. A bare-chested man in shorts and a baseball cap came into view. The corners of Kyra’s mouth drooped slightly. He was perfection. A ten. A living, breathing, dream. Six feet four inches of sexy. The word beautiful was the most abused word in the English language, but the man jogging towards her was gorgeous. Muscular arms, pert nipples, a chest begging to be touched. Following the hard contours of his waist, her eyes moved slowly up his shoulders to his lips. His cap shielded his forehead, making it impossible for her to see his entire face, but she’d recognize the familiar shape of Terrence Franklin’s mouth in the dark.

Her heart swayed like a daisy in the breeze. Should she pretend not to see him, or dive into the bushes? Kyra wiped the perspiration from her face. Sweat wasn’t cool, neither was funk. Her tank top was damp and she smelled as if she’d slept in a men’s locker room. Since Kyra wasn’t sure whether he’d even seen her, she decided to just keep on trucking.

When they were just a few feet away, he stopped and fell into step beside her. “Funny seeing you here,” he drawled. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Kyra slowed but didn’t stop. He sounded sincere, but the expression on his face said touchdown. The roguish sparkle in his eye matched his wide grin. Kyra had no proof, but she had a sneaking suspicion Terrence had orchestrated this meeting. But as she considered the likelihood of it, she realized it was next to impossible. Terrence was good, but he wasn’t that good. There was no way for him to know she’d be on this trail at this time of the day. “Hey, Terrence.”

He pointed with his chin to the trail. “Mind if I join you?”

“Actually, I was just leaving,” she said, skating backward out of his reach. “I promised my mom I’d come over for dinner.”

“Then I’ll walk you to your car.”

Her legs shook like a straight man in heels, and she suddenly didn’t have the energy to stand, but she stayed shoulder to shoulder with him all the way up the hill. His cologne had notes of cedar and stimulated her senses. Then there was his chest...his nipples...the slope of his rock-hard abs.

Kyra fanned her face. It was hotter than a Texas heat wave, but where on Earth was his shirt? Was he an exhibitionist or had some crazed female fan mauled him in the parking lot? “What does SKW stand for?” she asked, spotting the scripted initials on his right bicep.

“Selma Kay Williams.”

“Was she an ex-girlfriend?”

“Nope. My great-grandmother.” The expression on his face was one of pride. “She was an integral part of my life when I was growing up, and this tattoo is my small way of honoring her memory.”

Kyra almost melted onto the hot pavement. It was the sweetest, kindest thing she’d ever heard a man say, and she was touched deeply by his confession.

“How’s work?” he asked, feeding her another gorgeous smile. It was definitely one of his best. “Get all that paperwork done that’s been keeping you so busy?”

Her eyebrows knitted together. What, was he psychic now, too? “Things are fine.”

“I can tell you’re very good at your job.”

His gaze was powerful, crippling, more potent than a double shot of whiskey. Good thing I have my sunglasses on, she thought. I’d be blinded by all that sexual energy.

“I hope your boss knows how lucky he is to have you.”

Her gaze slid down his physique. Wrong move. Toned arms, muscles as hard as steel, long legs. Terrence Franklin was dark, fine and broad. The kind of man even a woman with amnesia wouldn’t forget. There was nothing sexier than a guy who’d just finished working out, and Kyra felt a swoon coming on.

“I spoke to my agent this afternoon,” he told her. “Teams have been calling to see if I’m interested in coming out of retirement.”

“Are you?” Kyra felt like the ground might slip out from under her. How could anyone withstand this heat? she wondered, running her tongue over her lips. Wanting to put all those Psychology 101 courses to good use, she tore her eyes away from his nipples and asked, “Is returning to the NFL a viable option?”