Temperatures Rising. BRENDA JACKSON
sofa with the card she’d received with the flowers. Again she read the message Terrence had written.
Please have dinner with me tomorrow night at my club.
Terrence
The man just wouldn’t give up. She wondered what would happen if she refused him again. Would he continue to be persistent? She felt her body tremble at the thought.
During her first week on the job, Terrence had been out of town attending his sister’s wedding. But from the moment her uncle Warrick had introduced them, she had felt this pull, this sexual chemistry. Unlike him, she had been willing to ignore it, to move on and place her focus on more important issues like becoming acquainted with the day-to-day operations of the station. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t crossed her mind a few times or that he wouldn’t give her system one hell of a jolt whenever she would run into him in the corridors.
She recalled seeing him at the water fountain one day, and the sight of him bending over and drinking water—how his mouth adjusted to take in the liquid—had made her senses whirl and her blood rush through her veins. And when he’d finished, he had licked his lips. She had been totally embarrassed when he had glanced up and seen her staring at him like a ninny.
She reread his card. The least she could do was call and thank him for the flowers, she thought, glancing across the room at them. She had found the perfect spot, right in front of the window. She had the window open and a soft breeze was flowing through, wafting the fragrance toward her.
Before she changed her mind, she called him.
“Hello.”
Even with the noise she could hear in the background, Terrence’s deep masculine voice came through the phone loud and distinctively clear. It moved over her skin like a soft caress. “Terrence, this is Sherri.”
“I know. Your name popped up,” he said, and she could just imagine the potency of the smile he had on his lips.
“Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful,” she rushed on to say, deciding to stick with the reason she’d phoned and end the call.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like them.” There was a pause. Then he asked, “What about dinner? Will you join me tomorrow night here at the club?”
Sherri closed her eyes. In the recesses of her mind, she could actually pick up the scent of his aftershave and could see that enticing smile on his lips, the one that made her feel as if something akin to liquid fire flowed through her veins. She then thought of his body heat, the heat she felt whenever she was around him. The same heat he had left in her office. She opened her eyes when she actually felt the phone tremble in her hands.
She could think of all the reasons she should not have dinner with him. She had gone over them a number of times before, most recently just an hour ago while she was in the shower. In essence, nothing had changed. Yet for some reason she wanted to have dinner with him.
“Yes, I’ll join you for dinner,” she said quickly, accepting that although nothing had changed, she needed to get beyond this thing with him. Maybe having dinner with him this one time would help her do so.
“All right. Do you want me to pick you up or would you rather we meet here?”
She did not want him to pick her up. Him coming into her home for any reason was something she’d rather avoid. “I can meet you there,” she said. “Will six o’clock be okay?”
“Fine. Do you know how to get to Club Hurricane?” he asked.
“Yes. Although I’ve never been there, I’ve passed by it a few times. It looks like a real nice place.”
“It is. And I look forward to showing you around.”
There was something about the way he’d made that last statement that warned her to keep her senses in check while around him. Not doing so would be reckless. “I’ll look forward to it. Good night.”
“Good night, Sherri.”
Sherri clicked off the phone, feeling warm and tingly all through her body. Terrence had a way of making her feel that way, even when he was miles away.
It took a few seconds after disconnecting the call from Sherri for Terrence to remember he had visitors. He glanced across the table at the two men who’d dropped by the club to see him, his best friends Lucas McCoy and Stephen Morales. The three had met while attending the University of Miami and had instantly bonded. Lucas was engaged; his fiancée lived in New York but had agreed to move to Key West after the wedding. He was building a beautiful house for them on his family property.
Stephen, whose birth name was Esteban, was a deputy sheriff. A few years ago he had given up a rather plush job with his father’s successful construction company to work with his paternal grandfather, the local sheriff.
“Are we keeping you from your date, Terrence?” Stephen asked, plastering a huge smile on his face.
“Yeah, man, we can check you out later if we’re in the way,” Lucas followed up by saying.
Terrence returned their gazes, not giving any sign that he was taking either of them seriously. “You’re fine. My date isn’t until tomorrow night.”
“Anyone we know?” Stephen was curious enough to ask.
“No, but eventually you will.” After he’d said the words, he wondered why he was so certain. It wasn’t as if he intended to make Sherri a permanent fixture in his life. In fact, he intended for anything between them—once it got started—to be short-term. At the moment, she was an itch that needed scratching. Bad.
And when had he ever wanted his two closest friends to meet any woman he was involved with? Things with Vicki Waller had been different because she had somehow gotten it into her head that she would one day become Mrs. Terrence Jefferies, although he had told her time and time again that she wouldn’t. Their breakup had made the papers, but only because she had erroneously informed a number of people they were planning to get married.
“So we’re still on for this coming weekend?” Lucas was asking, reclaiming his attention. They had made plans to get some boating time in. Forecasters had predicted nice weather.
“Only if you’re sure Emma isn’t coming to town,” Terrence said, referring to Lucas’s fiancée. Terrence saw the tightening of Lucas’s jaw, and even before his friend spoke he knew what he was about to say. Lucas and Emma had been doing the long-distance-dating thing for almost a year now, but lately it seemed Lucas was traveling more to New York than Emma was coming to Florida.
“I’m sure she won’t be coming,” was Lucas’s terse response.
“Okay, then,” Terrence said, reaching out and squeezing Lucas’s shoulder. “Our weekend on the water is all set.”
“Okay, pal, don’t think we’re letting you off the hook that easy,” Stephen said, grinning. “Who is this woman that just brought a sparkle to your eyes?”
“You’re imagining things,” Terrence said, rolling those same eyes.
“I don’t think so,” Stephen countered. “We want a name.”
Knowing they wouldn’t let up, he said, “Her name is Sherri Griffin. She’s Warrick’s niece and works at the station as a programmer and producer. However, Warrick’s grooming her to be manager when he retires.”
“Is she pretty?” Lucas wanted to know.
Terrence didn’t say anything for a minute while sipping his drink, and then he said, “She is stunning. I mean jaw-dropping gorgeous, even in her business suits.”
Lucas chuckled. “The woman actually wears business suits? Here in the Keys?”
Terrence smiled. “Yes, but I’m sure sooner or later she’ll be coming out of them.” And I’m going to make sure she does.
Later