“You know what? I have often wondered what it would take to shut you up.”

Maritza smirked and filled her expression with more brazenness than she felt at that moment.

“Funny, I’ve often wondered the same thing about you. Unfortunately, Penny would miss you if I followed through on any of my ideas.”

He chuckled again. It was masculine laughter at its finest. “Hmm… Good thing my idea will shut us both up for a while…then we both win.” His sexy face leaned in, further invading her space.

She gulped. And willed herself to pull away, but she leaned forward instead. It was as if some magnetic force was moving her head, twisting and contorting it to find the right angle for his lips to meet hers.

It couldn’t be of her own free will. Could it?

She did not want this. Did she?

His lips connected to hers and she sighed. It sounded like a contented kitten that had just lapped up the last bit of milk. More like a sigh and mewl mixed together, but nevertheless problematic….

His tongue traced her lips and more shocks went through her. Her heart seemed as if it wanted to pound its way right out of her chest and into his hands.

Stupid heart, she thought as she opened her lips and allowed her tongue entry into his mouth.

She wasn’t letting her heart out but there was no reason her tongue couldn’t come out and play.

GWYNETH BOLTON

was born and raised in Paterson, New Jersey. She currently lives in Central New York with her husband, Cedric. When she was twelve years old, she became an avid reader of romance by sneaking books from her mother’s stash of Harlequin and Silhouette novels. In the ’90s she was introduced to African American and multicultural romance novels and her life hasn’t been the same since. She has a B.A. and an M.A. in English/creative writing and a Ph.D. in English/composition and rhetoric. She teaches college level classes in writing and women’s studies. She has won several awards for her romance novels, including ten Emma Awards and the Romance in Color Reviewer’s Choice award for new author of the year.

When Gwyneth is not teaching or working on her own romance novels, she is curled up with a cup of herbal tea, a warm quilt and a good book. She can be reached via email at gwynethbolton@prodigy.net. Readers can visit her website at www.gwynethbolton.com.

Ready for Love
Gwyneth Bolton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To all the readers who loved the Hightowers and have been asking for Terrill and Maritza’s story almost from the beginning… This one is for you!

Dear Reader,

Psssst. Psssst. Pssssst.

Come closer…

Okay… Terrill and Maritza have a secret. It is a secret that will shock all of their friends and family. And it will probably even shock you, dear reader!

I wish I could share their secret with you but I am taking great risk telling you this. Okay, I’ll say this much, I think of the old New Edition song, “My Secret” whenever I think of these two enemies turned lov—

Oops! I’ve said too much already. But let’s just say, when New Edition’s Ralph Tresvant sings “sparks begin to fly, lightening in the sky,” he could very well be talking about what happens every time Terrill and Maritza come within five feet of one another. And their secret has a lot to do with what happens when neither one of them can ignore all those sparks any longer.

You’ll have to read it to find out the rest. But I hope you will enjoy finding out Terrill and Maritza’s secret as much as I enjoyed revealing it!

Much love and peace,

Gwyneth

I want to offer a special thanks to my family: my husband, Cedric Bolton; my mom, Donna Pough; my sisters, Jennifer, Cassandra, Michelle and Tashina; my nieces Ashlee and Zaria and my nephew Michael.

And I’d like to offer an extra special thanks to all the readers and book clubs that have read my books and have let me know that they enjoyed them. I can’t tell you how much your support has meant to me. I appreciate you all so much because the readers make up the heart of this genre that I love so very much! Thanks for all you do to make sure that the legacy of Black romance novels continues.

Contents

First Interlude

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Second Interlude

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Third Interlude

Epilogue

First Interlude

If you stay ready, you won’t ever have to get

ready…

“Girl, you got some’s plainin’ to do!” Samantha Hightower did a halfway decent mimic of Ricky Ricardo. The dark chocolate beauty was a dead ringer for a pre–Weight Watchers Jennifer Hudson.

Maritza rolled her eyes at Joel Hightower’s wife as she toyed with the ten-carat pear-shaped engagement ring on her finger and tried to figure out where it all had gone so incredibly wrong.

Wrong man.

Wrong ring.

Wrong everything.

Wrong like the way she was thinking about Terrill Carter—the man who was undoubtedly the love of her life—instead of Andrew “Speed-Lo” MacGregor, the man she had agreed to marry…

“She doesn’t have to explain anything to me! Little mamacita was double dipping and trying to get her vanilla-chocolate swirl on! She wanted two men and then she got caught up in the mix. Shoulda asked an ol’ school playa like me how to play the game and not let the game play you. That’s the truth.” Carla, her best friend Penny Keys-Hightower’s mother, was stretched out on Maritza’s cream-butter leather sofa relaxing and popping off at the mouth—feet up and shoes on like she paid the mortgage or something.

Maritza could only shake her head because there was no point in trying to get into it with Carla. The petite firecracker looked spiffy in a peach maxi sundress and matching sandals. But her spiffy behind was going to hear it from Maritza if she left just one scuff mark on the butter leather.

The bright airiness of her downtown Los Angeles loft was cluttered with crowds of questioning people. The Hightower wives and their families, along with Maritza’s parents and brothers, made for a pretty intense interrogation team. Everyone wanted answers after Maritza’s fiasco of an engagement party hadn’t gone exactly as planned, and Terrill Carter showed up trying to get Maritza to admit she loved him.

Her fiancé’s boys hadn’t liked Terrill’s impromptu interruption at all, and there had been a small scuffle that ended up with everyone being kicked out of the restaurant and possibly banned for life.

Yes, the people roaming around her loft wanted answers and they probably weren’t going to go anywhere until they got them. Maritza had no idea how she would appease them all, once they started throwing questions at her. On her best day she could take whatever people threw at her without blinking. She could work a room full of normal people and have them exactly where she wanted them. But she was unfortunately not having her best day. And the people in her loft would be hard to handle one on one if she didn’t want them all in her business, let alone as a pack of frenzied friends and family.

“Mommy, now you know you couldn’t have schooled nobody the way you got caught out there between my daddy and C-Money, so stop playing.” Penny rolled her eyes at her mother and sighed before turning to Maritza. Her bronze locks were hanging down her back and the black linen sleeveless pantsuit she was wearing had her looking like a sure stand-in for Janet Jackson in the “That’s the Way Love Goes” video.

“But for real, for real, girlfriend,” Penny offered in a need-to-know-all tone, “you are going to have to tell us what the deal is! How the hell did my boy, from way back in the day, end up crashing your engagement party like he was Dwayne Wayne and you were Whitley Gilbert in that classic episode of A Different World? Terrill was pouring his heart out on some ol’ ‘Maritza, please, baby, please,’ tip.”

Maritza ran an image-consulting firm called New Images by Keys and Morales with Penny. Both former video models and dancers, they had met on a rap video shoot years ago when they were both working their way through college and had developed a steadfast bond.

Since Maritza had grown up the only girl in a family of brothers and Penny had only ever had guy friends, developing a close friendship had been a challenge for the two of them. They had had to learn how to be good friends and trust the bonds of the sistah-girl-friendship. But they had worked at their friendship and it grew. Their business, New Images by Keys and Morales, was doing extremely well and was poised to do even better.

“They must have been having a secret affair. We all knew there was something there all along. But we just thought they liked each other and didn’t want to admit it.” Celia Hightower shook her head in disapproval and Maritza thought she couldn’t have felt worse until her own mother, Sharon Morales, joined in.

The similarities between her own mother and Celia Hightower had always made Maritza hold the Hightower matriarch in high esteem. They didn’t necessarily look alike, but both women had a regal air about them that seemed to say, “I shall not be moved.” They also had a calm way about them; even when they were telling you off, they could do it without getting a hair out of place or looking bad in any way.

She admired both women as mother and other-mother as well as older sorority sisters. Maritza, like her mother and Celia Hightower, was a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority.

She’d pledged in college just before she started dancing in music videos. And it was the one thing she’d done during her college years to actually please her mother. She also did it because growing up she had always coveted her mother’s pink and green sorority paraphernalia.

“Maritza, I just don’t understand you at all. Why would you agree to marry one man when you clearly have unresolved issues with another?” The look of disappointment on Sharon Morales’s face and the tone of clear disapproval in her voice took Maritza down to her lowest point.

Sharon stood in a sleek black cocktail dress that showed off a perfect, size ten figure. Her creamy butter-pecan complexion held very few wrinkles. Her salt-and-pepper hair hung in naturally curled ringlets around her face and down her shoulders. Her hair was the only hint that she was the mother of four adult children, each in their thirties.

Maritza and her famous Black feminist academic mother had definitely had their issues in the past. Part of Maritza’s reason for even becoming a video model was an act of rebellion against her mother, the world-renowned feminist theorist and women’s and gender studies professor. She still got a kick out of getting a rise out of her mother.

But Maritza’s rebellion was something she controlled and navigated. The kind of parental disappointment and disapproval on Sharon’s face at that moment was new territory for Maritza and it didn’t feel good.

How the hell did I get here?

Why couldn’t I just admit that I loved Terrill?

Why couldn’t she just trust that things would work out between her and Terrill and just step out on faith?

Why did she have to find a way to ruin the good thing they had going?

“I didn’t know if I should have helped Andrew’s boys kick Terrill’s behind or help my man Terrill out.” Maritza’s older brother Victor had to add his layer to the guilt quilt their mother was weaving.

Her overprotective, LAPD detective brother was just getting started and she knew she had to nip it in the bud before all of her equally overprotective brothers and her massively overprotective father got in on the discussion.

“Niña bonita, you know your papi loves you with every breath in his body, but everyone is right, you have a lot of explaining to do. Now if Terrill didn’t have just cause to try and break up your engagement party, then fine. But if by some chance you have feelings for this man…and keep in mind, niña bonita, your papi knows you like the back of his hand…” Her father paused for emphasis and gave her the don’t-lie-to-me-because-I-already-know-the truth look. “Then you need to come clean once and for all. We won’t judge you.” Manuel Morales Sr. wore the look of distinguished emeritus professor like a second skin.

His warm caramel skin and silver-trimmed hair, beard and mustache gave him an air of respectability. And it was sometimes hard to reconcile the fact that the man who was now known as the father of Afro-Latino Studies was once on America’s most wanted list as a leader of the Young Lords, a Puerto Rican power group in the late 1960s.

But that’s how her parents had met. Her papi had been a Young Lord and her mom had been a junior Black Panther. Both were staunch nationalist activists until her mother became a feminist and they both got involved with academics. Now, although they were still left-leaning activists, they were scholar-activists and most of their activism was in higher education or in the pages of their many nonfiction books.

“I don’t know about all that. I could have been home maxing and relaxing instead of coming all the way out to Cali for some bogus party. So I am judging.” Her brothers Manuel and Victor pushed their youngest brother, Louis, as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

Louis had big brown eyes, close-cropped black hair and a dimpled smile that belied his mischievous nature. A lot of people told her that her brother could be the fine actor Adam Rodriguez’s twin, but she couldn’t see it.

Louis shrugged and shook his head as he turned to push Maritza. “What? Papi’s niña bonita can never do any wrong? And once again I’m the only one willing to call her on her crap. I could have been scoring big time this weekend instead of coming here for an engagement party, when she doesn’t even know who she wants to marry. I knew she wasn’t ready to get married!”

Maritza rolled her eyes at Louis. If she had to rank her three older brothers from most to least liked, Louis, the brother who was only a year older than her and the one who should have been the closest to her, would be number three and least favorite. She loved them all, but Louis knew how to work her nerves, probably because he had the uncanny ability to see right through her, just like Terrill.

Her brothers took the best traits from their African-American mother and Afro-Latino, Puerto Rican father. They were each tall, like her mother’s basketball playing brothers, with strong, muscular builds. Their skin tones showcased varying shades of honey. Their jet-black hair had more wave than curl. Each had his own version of their father’s devilish dimpled smile.

Compared to her absolutely gorgeous older brothers, Maritza had always felt like an ugly duckling growing up. It hadn’t helped that she was also a tomboy until she started getting the curves that would one day make her a famous video vixen and the rest was history. She realized she might not be as fine as her brothers, but many men considered her looks and build eye candy.

She knew that her best attributes were her shape—for which she owed thanks to her mother—and her hair. But her long black curls could easily be attributed to both parents. Like that of many African-Americans, her mother’s heritage had a mix of some Caucasian and Native American. And, as a native Puerto Rican, her father claimed Black first but also had a mix of Spaniard and Indio in his lineage. Maritza liked to credit the hair to the Native peoples on both sides of her family tree and made jokes about having Indian in her family whenever people commented on her looks or hair. When it came down to identity though, she claimed her Black and Latina roots proudly.

She looked at her fine brothers and smiled as she thought about the various ways she and her brothers had found to rebel. Most people would think that having former nationalist parents who had protested the status quo and spent time in jail for their political beliefs would leave little room for kids to actually do anything that would shock their parents. But Maritza and her brothers each found ways.

Manuel Junior, the oldest, was a conservative talking head on the most conservative news channels on television. And for liberal, left-leaning progressives like Sharon and Manuel Sr., that was probably the ultimate act of rebellion. Victor was a cop and, for former nationalists who used to scream “off the pigs,” having a son decide to become a cop was probably just as bad as a fundamentalist preacher having a rock ’n’ roll artist as a child. Louis, at least, was leaving the corporate world that her parents believed was bleeding the country dry to become a professor. Too bad he was becoming a professor of practice in the business college of an Ivy League university and training more corporate sharks.

And then there was Maritza…Maritza Morales, the only daughter of famous Black feminist Sharon Morales, a former video vixen with a sexual past that would probably make her father have a stroke—even if he had grown up in the free love 1960s.

Yes, the Morales bunch proved that those other PKs—preachers’ kids—had nothing on professors’ kids when it came to acting out and breaking expectations.

“Niña bonita, you had better come clean. We need to know the truth about what happened and why.” Manuel Sr.’s voice was extra stern now and Maritza knew that it would only be a matter of time before he was no longer using his pet name for her and he started calling her by her full given name, Maritza Diane Morales. Once he went there she would have to work extra hard to make it back to her perfect little daddy’s girl place.

“We’re waiting,” Sharon added as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

Maritza sighed. There was no getting around this. She would have to tell them everything. She eyed the Hightower wives, Penny’s parents, Carla and Gerald, and her own parents and brothers. All of them had traveled to Los Angeles to meet her future husband and to celebrate her engagement.

An engagement that really should have never happened…

If only she could have one of those Being Erica do-overs…

But what would she go back and change? Would she not accept Andrew’s proposal? Or would she find a way to stop Terrill from kissing her and turning her nice, orderly life upside down?

She shook her head because she knew which one she would have changed and there was no way in hell she wanted to live in a world where she didn’t know what a kiss from Terrill felt like.

It was time to come clean.

She cleared her throat. “See, what had happened was—”

“Oh Lord! Here she come starting with some ol’ what had happened! That means she ’bout to drop ol’ okey-doke crap. Anytime they start with see, what had happened, you know you ’bout to hear some ol’ convoluted mess.” Carla shook her head, all the while stretching and getting into a comfortable spot to hear what she was deeming a mess.

“Carla, hush up and let the girl tell her story. Go ahead, Maritza. And make it plain.” Celia Hightower gave both Carla and Maritza a stern look.

With that admonishment from the matriarch of the Hightower clan, she decided beating around the bush and hemming and hawing weren’t going to work and she needed to just tell the truth.

“Okay, it started back when Big Mama passed away…”

“Now that’s what I call a shiner! Da–mn! Man, you got knocked out!”

Terrill Carter held the ice pack over his swollen black eye and glared at his best friend, Jason Hightower, with the other eye. On any other day he would be able to take Jason’s ribbing, but not today.

It was nice to have company in his normally empty—except for when he had a work-related event or party going on—place. His Bel Air mansion was more a sign of status, and an affirmation that he had made it, than anything else. It certainly didn’t become a home until it was filled with his friends and since his closest friends, the Hightowers, lived in the city where he was born and raised, Paterson, New Jersey, the mansion didn’t feel like a home very often.

“Yeah, man! They almost jacked you all the way up! Just imagine how much worse it could have been if we hadn’t been there to pull dude’s crew off of you. What in the world possessed you to crash the engagement party anyway?” Joel Hightower had his usual expression—on the verge of laughter—on his face as he leaned against the door in the entryway to Terrill’s state-of-the-art kitchen.

“That’s not the most important question. As usual, you guys are slow on the uptake,” Lawrence offered wryly as he twirled a toothpick in his mouth and studied Terrill.

Terrill could feel the third degree coming and he didn’t like it one bit. Not with a swollen eye and the knowledge that he had only put a temporary stall on the love of his life’s wedding plans. He had only managed to break up the engagement party. There was still a chance that Maritza might be marrying another man in six months or so. How was he supposed to cope with that?

“The most important question is—” Lawrence leaned forward and arched his left eyebrow and gave Terrill his most intense cop stare “—when exactly did you and Maritza become an item? And how long have the two of you been seeing each other? Because no man comes up into an engagement party the way you did without having a really good reason.”

“Word,” Jason agreed.

“Right!” Joel exclaimed.

“Co-sign,” Patrick offered with a halfway bored shrug.

Things had not turned out the way he expected them to, that was for damn sure. He was supposed to waltz up in there and claim the woman he loved and leave with her. He and Maritza were supposed to be making love right now instead of him nursing a black eye and explaining anything and everything to the Hightower brothers.

The Hightower brothers were all tall, in shape and handsome with mahogany complexions and killer smiles. Terrill loved these men like they were his own brothers. But damn if they knew when to just leave a brother alone and let him sulk in silence.

“Come on man, you might as well come clean now. You and Maritza have been doing that I-hate-you-but-I-might-really-love-you dance for years. And we saw the way she looked at you when you bum-rushed the spot—” Jason started.

“True,” Joel added. “Love was all in her face. I never would have believed it unless I had seen it with my own eyes.”

“Word. And the way ol’ girl screamed when Speed-Lo’s bodyguard punched you and knocked you the hell out! Man, you can’t tell me she didn’t give a damn what happened to you,” Patrick added.

“So you might as well come clean, man. How long have you and Maritza been kicking it and what do we need to do to help you get your woman back?” Lawrence had a cynical smirk on his face.

Terrill winced and figured he could also add can’t-leave-well-enough-alone to the Hightower brothers’ list of annoying habits. But at least they had his back.

He remembered how the Hightowers used to joke with him all the time that light-skinned brothers were out of style and they’d always get more ladies than him unless light skin made a comeback. He would joke right back that he was the comeback. Still, the Hightowers were all actually married to the women of their dreams now and he was trying to stop the woman of his dreams from marrying someone else.

Maybe if he talked to them and gained some perspective he could figure out a way to get his woman back. He needed to make that happen because without her, he knew he would never be happy.

Terrill sighed. “Fine, since you guys refuse to leave well enough alone, maybe you can be of some use to me after all. Maritza and I have been kicking it on and off for a while. Since Big Mama died, as a matter of fact, right when Jason and Penny got back together…”

Chapter 1

“Good, glad you’re still here. I’m on my way to the airport. But I wanted to catch you before I left. That plan you have for Da Stunnas needs to be scrapped and you need to come up with something more feasible. The folks in A&R hate it.”

Maritza looked up to see her supposedly silent business partner, Terrill, doing what he seemed to do best, talking.

She rolled her eyes and kept flipping through the latest magazines making sure that the clients she needed to set up various photo opportunities for made it into this month’s issues. It didn’t make sense to make sure your habitually drunk driving, heiress client spent every Saturday morning volunteering at a soup kitchen or ensuring that she used her driver and wore her underwear when she went out partying if the paparazzi didn’t get the good shots to counteract all that negative media.

She was also checking out the latest fashion styles and trends for when she went shopping for some of her other clients. New Images by Keys and Morales offered a variety of services to their clients. They could help you clean up your image, figure out how to spin a negative to a positive and keep you looking good to boot. Their chic offices were on the third floor of the office building Terrill owned downtown.

Maritza’s office was all white furniture with clean, straight lines. She liked to think her office represented her straight-no-chaser outlook on life. Plus, she needed a clean canvas for an office because she brought enough color and style to fill the space.

“So you’re doing your little ignore-Terrill-and-he’ll-go-away thing. That’s cute, Maritza. Unfortunately, I don’t have time for that. I have a plane to catch. I have to be there for Penny at Big Mama’s funeral. If I hurry, I can make it in time for the wake, at least part of it.”

For some reason, that really made her want to roll her eyes but she refrained.

She didn’t know what was worse—the fact that he was going to be there for their best friend and business partner, Penny Keys, and she wasn’t, or the fact that he was always coming to Penny’s rescue. It had to be the former because she could really care less about the latter.

Plus, that was just the way it was. Girls like Penny got rescued and girls like her got…

Well, we get what we get, don’t we…right?

So what if he had some sick need to be his best friend’s personal knight in shining armor?

So what if that same knight morphed into a nagging bridge troll where she was concerned?

Okay…a really cute, honey-toned-hazel-eyed-built-like-one-of-God’s-warrior-angels nagging bridge troll, to be fair, but an old mean and nasty bridge troll nonetheless…

He was fine, though…

He had looks that could best be described as Michael Ealy’s face on Boris Kodjoe’s body. And he knew exactly how to work those looks to entice even a sane woman like her to think about doing something crazy—like making a play for him when she knew it would never, ever, ever work out between them.

He was Mr. Do Everything Right Can Do No Wrong, and the world loved him. She was Ms. Do What She Likes or What Feels Right, and she didn’t care what the world thought. In short, they weren’t meant to be. It was a good thing she’d had sense enough to figure that out the first time she set eyes on him and had managed to keep a nice healthy distance from her desire.

But times like these with him all in her personal space…

She had to keep her wall up and abrasiveness worked best in that regard.

“By all means hurry then, Terrill. You really didn’t have to come here, you know. You could have called. You could have sent an email. Hell, I don’t know, you could have minded your business and let me do my job.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Any number of things…” She kept her game face smile locked in place, but all the while she was shooting laser daggers at him with her eyes.

“Listen, I know you think I’m overstepping my boundaries and maybe I am. But I am a silent partner here. And Da Stunnas is one of our biggest new clients at my record label.” He stopped midsentence and ran his hand across the deep waves in his Caesar haircut. “I didn’t send them to you all because that would have been a conflict of interest. But now that they are working with you guys of their own accord, I need to be sure that the label’s interests aren’t jeopardized.” He sighed again as if he was just entirely too irritated for words.

“You are going to turn the biggest hardcore rap-rock group ever into a bunch of punks in the public eye and we won’t be able to market them the way we had planned.”

Maritza hissed. Before she knew it she was out of her desk and in Terrill’s face.

“Those fools destroyed a stage and almost burned down a club full of their fans! Tell me you can give away their album now? Isn’t that the reason they came seeking help with their image in the first place? Aren’t your A&R people fit to be tied? Hasn’t the album been pushed back several times now? El stupido!” She turned and walked away. There was no talking to him. She would just have to let Penny handle him because if she had to keep talking to him she was going to punch him or worse.

“Who are you calling stupid, girl?” His strong hand pulled her back to him with a quickness she wasn’t expecting and she stumbled right into his arms.

When she looked into his eyes, his very beautiful hazel eyes, she didn’t like what she saw there. Gone was the know-it-all-jerk who barged his way into her office like he owned the place.

Well, technically he did own the place, New Images by Keys and Morales leased from one of the office buildings he owned. And he had put up the major capital for them to get started. But that didn’t mean he had the right to make himself a nuisance.

And now something else, something sexy and dangerous, was simmering in his eyes and she couldn’t look away.

“Let go of me, Terrill!”

He pulled her closer and let one hand trace her face. “Promise me you’ll at least think of some different ideas for Da Stunnas.”

“No. My ideas are great. Now let me go!”

He had the nerve to chuckle and it had the nerve to sound sexy.

Had she fallen and bumped her head and ended up in bizarro world? The Twilight Zone? What crazy altering of the universe was this where she was thinking anything that Terrill-get-on-her-last-nerve-Carter did was sexy?

“You know what? I have often wondered what it would take to shut you up.”

Maritza smirked and filled her expression with more brazenness than she felt at that moment. “Funny, I’ve often wondered the same thing about you. Unfortunately, Penny would miss you if I followed through on any of my ideas.”

Terrill chuckled again, all throat and bobbing Adam’s apple. It was masculine laughter at its finest. “Hmm…good thing my idea will shut us both up for a while…then we both win.” His sexy face leaned in, further invading her space.

She gulped. And she willed herself to pull away. But she leaned forward instead. It was as if some magnetic force was moving her head, twisting and contorting it to find the right angle for his lips to meet hers.

It couldn’t be of her own free will. Could it?

She did not want this. Did she?

His lips connected to hers and she sighed. It sounded like a contented kitten that had just lapped up the last bit of milk. More like a sigh and mewl mixed together, but nevertheless problematic…

His tongue traced her lips and more shocks went through her. Her heart seemed like it wanted to pound its way right out of her chest and into his hands.

Stupid heart, she thought as she opened her lips and allowed her tongue entry into his mouth.

She wasn’t letting her heart out. But there was no reason her tongue couldn’t come out and play.

She wrapped her arms around him and soon she was holding him just as tightly as he held her and it felt good.

Too good.

She moaned as she clutched him. He groaned as he let his strong hands trail her back down to her behind. He held her firmly in his grip and his kiss became even more intense.

As if that were possible…

His tongue traced every nook of her mouth, marking each place. She tried to give as good as she got but she became enthralled with his skilled lips and was content with following his lead. She tracked his tongue, followed his marks and made similar marks of her own in his mouth. Each time his tongue landed on a spot, she found a spot to lick and savor. She got lost in the thrill and game of it.

Later she might say she lost her mind. But at that moment, all she wanted to do was kiss him.

So she did.

She could think about the consequences tomorrow…

Terrill wished like hell he didn’t have a flight to catch, because he had wanted to have this woman in his arms exactly like this from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her.

She felt amazing in his arms.

She was made to be in his arms.

And her lips…

They were the softest and sweetest lips he had ever tasted.

Maritza Morales was walking perfection if he had ever seen it. She had a figure that could make grown men fall to their knees and thank the God that saw fit to make her. Unfortunately she also had a mouth that could probably make grown men cry.

She was wearing a stylish red power suit with matching pumps and lipstick. As usual, her outward appearance seemed to scream “don’t mess with me.” Too bad he was done listening to her signals and outside appearances.

He couldn’t help the groan that came from deep down in his gut when she wrapped her arms around his neck and finally gave in to the passion between them.

It was a good thing he had a plane to catch because the things he wanted to do to her required time and space—lots of both.

He let his hands roam her body as his tongue tunneled forward, marking and claiming the spaces he wanted to revisit again and again, over and over. Because if he was sure about anything in his life, he was certain of one thing: He would be kissing Maritza Morales again.

He begrudgingly pulled his tongue away from its exploration and traced her lips before letting her go.

He waited a few seconds for the slap that might come and when it didn’t, he let out the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

It was time to put her on notice. “Play time is over now, Maritza. I need you to understand that. So I’m going to give you a little time to think about it. We aren’t ignoring this any longer. I can’t do it anymore.”

He turned and walked away while he still could and stopped at the door to her office. He didn’t turn around because he didn’t trust himself not to throw her over her desk and give them both the release that had been building up between them for years.

“I will call you from Jersey while I’m there and I’ll see you when I get back,” was all he could manage to say before walking out the door.

She was a smart woman.

She could read between the lines.

She should be able to figure out that they could no longer continue the way they had been.

Things between them had been irrevocably changed…

Terrill stood in the doorway of the funeral home and took a deep breath as he searched the room for Penny. He’d missed his first flight and taken a later flight from Los Angeles than he had intended to, because he had kissed a woman he never thought he would ever work up enough nerve to kiss, let alone stop being irritated with long enough to do so. And now he was running late for Big Mama’s wake and Penny was probably facing God knows what all alone.

Lee’s Funeral Home hadn’t changed much over the years. It was still a little bit grimy and worse for wear. The folding chairs and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. church fans might have been there the last time he had been there, years ago. It was clear, though, that they still made money hand over fist when killing season started in the hood. He remembered his last spring and summer living in Paterson before moving to Los Angeles to attend college. He had attended far too many funerals for brothers shot down in their prime.

When his eyes caught her in a heated debate with their former best friend, who also happened to be the former love of her life, Terrill rushed over and mentally kicked himself for being late. Jason Hightower’s angry voice greeted him as soon as he stepped up.

“Are you sure about that? Because from what I could see that woman missed you and mourned you the entire time. And for you to stay away that long shows what a cruel, heartless, selfish—” Jason took a deep breath, glared at Penny and cut himself off.

Terrill shook his head and sighed as he took in the anger in Jason’s voice and the angst-ridden, nervous energy surrounding Penny.

The two of you deserve each other, a backstabber and a schemer. I can’t believe I ever trusted either one of you.

The harsh words Jason had spoken fifteen years ago echoed in Terrill’s mind as he surveyed the scene. It was a good thing he’d decided to come and offer Penny moral support. There was no way she could have dealt with Jason and all their past baggage alone.

He watched Penny brace her shoulders squarely. She inhaled and exhaled several times in succession. “You need to calm down, Jason. This is not the time or the place. If you cared about Big Mama as much as you claim you did, then you wouldn’t disrespect her wake like this.”

Terrill placed his hand on her shoulder and Penny let out a sigh of relief.

“Everything all right?” Terrill spoke the words to Penny but his eyes remained fixed on Jason. He tried to give his former friend the visual warning that backed up what Penny had just told him.

Jason might have gotten a good sucker punch in on Terrill fifteen years ago, but Terrill wasn’t above throwing the man out if he didn’t heed the warning.

Penny hugged Terrill and he could feel her body shaking just a little in his arms. “Everything is fine, Terrill. I’m glad you were able to make it.”

Since they had just seen each other before she left Los Angeles, Terrill knew Jason’s presence was what made Penny extra happy to see him. She leaned on his shoulder and clasped the arm of his suit jacket.

Terrill smiled at her and winked. He wanted to tell her that everything would be okay. But he had no way of really knowing that. He glanced around the room and noticed that all eyes were on them.

Most of the people in the room were checking him out. It always seemed to happen when he went home. Not many people who’d grown up in a small one bedroom attic apartment with a single mom made it to be senior vice president of a major music label.

The way eyes darted and conversations took place behind hands showed Terrill had given many of the folks in the room something to talk about. In fact, given the history between the three of them, the room was probably abuzz with gossip.

Terrill figured they were talking about how Penny had dumped Jason for him all those years ago.

If only they knew about the lies that had broken up the Three Musketeers.

Terrill understood why most of the people in the room either couldn’t or wouldn’t take their eyes off of them. He knew what it had meant for both him and Penny to make it from their inner-city neighborhood in Paterson to their positions as movers and shakers in Los Angeles. Not many people from Warren Street who’d attended PS 10 and then East-side High School ended up where they were.

Terrill noticed that Penny lifted her hand to her right eye and rubbed it across the tiny scar she had gotten when she was twelve. Although barely noticeable now, whenever Penny felt uncomfortable or put on the spot, her hand found and rubbed over the small mark. He watched her circle it with her pointer finger for a moment before she forced her hand down at her side.

Terrill gritted his teeth. No matter what, Jason didn’t have a right to harass Penny like that. He made up his mind that he would personally dump Jason out on his ass if he didn’t cut it out. So what if everyone in the funeral home was probably waiting to see if they would cause a scene?

“Hey, Jason. How’s it going?” Terrill reached out to his old friend in an attempt to get him to cool down and got a harsh stare and a sneer for the trouble. He felt his face heating and knew that the red undertones in his skin were probably lighting up like Rudolph’s nose on Christmas.

Damn Jason for still being so arrogant!

Terrill slanted his eyes and nodded a nod that he meant more as a promise: don’t-start-none-won’t-be-none.

Jason didn’t even pretend to acknowledge Terrill.

“You’re right, Penny. This isn’t the time or the place.” Jason gave her a once-over before walking away, and didn’t even bother looking at Terrill. “It wouldn’t even be worth it anyway.”

Terrill’s mood morphed from disappointed to angry in zero seconds flat when he saw the pained look on Penny’s face. He knew that if he wasn’t careful he wouldn’t be able to contain his emotions and he might be the one causing a scene instead of trying to prevent one.

Jason’s disdain was still palpable. The two men hadn’t been able to say a kind word to one another in fifteen years. But as far as Terrill was concerned that was Jason’s fault.

Terrill squeezed Penny’s shoulder. Terrill hoped that Penny knew he didn’t blame her for losing his other best friend.

Looking at the three of them now, no one would be able to tell people used to jokingly call them the Three Musketeers and tease them about being joined at the hips. They had been best friends since grade school and the friendship hadn’t changed when Jason and Penny became high school sweethearts. They hadn’t thought anything would be able to come between them. But they had been wrong.

Terrill shook his head. There was no use dwelling on it now. He’d made his decision on whom he would stand by in the middle of a difficult time. But if he had it to do all over again, he wouldn’t have let things get so out of control that two people who loved each other would stay apart for fifteen years.

Still, he needed at least to talk to Jason and make sure that he didn’t make things any harder for Penny when she was trying to cope with the loss of her beloved grandmother.

When he found Jason standing outside of the funeral home, he had to step to him even though it was clear the man was leaving.

If the inside of Lee’s Funeral Home seemed as if it were stuck in a time warp, the outside and surrounding neighborhood really were stuck. Besides the changes in hairstyles and the clothing people wore, he noticed the same things that had been prominent back in the day, girls playing double Dutch and brothers playing dice.

“This is a tough time for Penny, you know. Big Mama was the only person who had always been there for her no matter what. She’s taking it hard. You really need to lay off about the past.”

A wave of emotions came over Jason’s face at once and Terrill could see the exact moment when his ex-best friend’s shield went up and he decided to block the emotions.

Jason sneered. “Shouldn’t you be inside with her, then, if she’s so torn up? Isn’t that what lovers are supposed to do for one another? Comfort? Console? Why are you out here talking to me?”

Terrill let out an exasperated sigh. He wished he could just be done with this crap. Sure, maybe he and Penny were in the wrong for deceiving Jason, but he so wanted to tell the man that he was being an idiot by not finally making things right with the woman he loved.

Terrill knew without a doubt that if he had the chance to really have the woman he loved he would take it.

“I’m out here because despite what you think, I want what’s best for everyone involved. She doesn’t need the stress. It’s bad enough she has to deal with Carla and you know how that can be.” Terrill ran his hand through his hair. “You don’t need to be all hung up on a past you barely understand. There’s a lot you just don’t know, Jason. If I could tell you without breaking confidences, I would.”

Terrill was close to just telling Jason that he had never slept with Penny all those years ago and they hadn’t left for California as a couple. That they, in fact, had never been anything more than friends. And the only thing he was guilty of was being a good friend and looking out for the love of Jason’s life until they came to their senses and got back together.

But no matter what, he couldn’t tell her secret—that it was all a lie. He couldn’t do that to Penny, especially not now with all she was dealing with.

So he watched the kids ride their bikes down the crowded street along with the other hustle and bustle of an urban city on a spring evening. Paterson’s streets were full of life with a hint of danger pulsing underneath.

Please let this fool wise up! I am so tired of this!

“Oh! Now you have morals. Where were they fifteen years ago when you stole my girl?”

Terrill threw his hands up and shook his head. “I give up, man. I tried, but you’re stuck in the past. You need to let it go. And like I said, lay off with the guilt trips on Penny. She doesn’t need that right now.” Terrill walked away before he did something stupid—like sucker punch his ex-best friend who was now a cop—and ended up in jail.

He had more important things to think about. Like being there for Penny in her time of need and making it back to California to see where things stood with a certain feisty Afro-Latina woman that he had shared the most amazing, earth-shattering kiss with. He was sure that once she got over being stunned, she was going to be pissed.

Maritza found her right hand couldn’t stop trailing her lips. It was really hard to focus on work when she had done the stupidest thing she had ever done in her life.

She had kissed Terrill.

Or he had kissed her.

Whatever the case may be…

She had messed up.

Big time.

And now he was in New Jersey with Penny. Helping Penny deal with Big Mama’s death.

Like always he would be there for Penny whenever she needed him.

How did a woman allow herself to kiss a man who would drop everything in a heartbeat to run to the aid of another woman? Another woman who was her best friend and his? It was a soap opera waiting to happen if she ever saw one.

“I knew this was a bad idea! Are you even listening to me?” Lace Monroe, the video vixen formally known as Lil’ Freak and author of several scathing tell-all books in which she named just about every rapper, mogul, athlete, actor or singer she ever so much as blew a kiss at, let alone anything else, hopped her perky little behind out of the seat and in front of Maritza’s desk with enough attitude to loan some out and still have plenty to spare.

Maritza tried to remember that Lace was a prospective client that would need so much help she might just as well have “Made Out to Cash” stamped on her forehead. But she couldn’t keep her left eyebrow from arching and her head from tilting to the side. Blame it on her parents, but Maritza Morales had Black girl attitude and Latina heat in equal combinations. She certainly wasn’t the one to mess with.

Lace noted the change in Maritza’s demeanor and gave her a good once-over before much more calmly sitting her behind back down.

Lace wanted to use the hype and the buzz surrounding her books to go legit. And she wanted New Images by Keys and Morales to help her present a more suitable image.

Maritza put on her most professional smile and folded her hands in front of her, admiring the pop of color she gave to her clean, white, contemporary-style desk.

“It will take a lot to clean up the image you have been busy cultivating, Lace. Not to mention the fact that you won’t be able to continue banking on it. If we take you on as a client, you can’t write any more tell-all books and you certainly can’t be out there gathering any more material for future books.” Maritza laid out the ground rules in her most blunt voice.

Lace rolled her eyes. “Please, if you and Penny Keys can clean up your images and become respectable businesswomen then I can, too. Trust and believe I heard the stories of how you used to get down, especially you.”

Potential paying customer, potential paying customer… Do not cuss out a potential paying customer. Maritza repeated the mantra in her head and tried to make her smile a little less icy. She knew it was the cold and brittle smile taking shape on her lips because it hurt like hell to do it.

“I don’t see what my past or my partner’s past have to do with it—”

“Well, not so much hers since she was hardly as out there as you were, but definitely you. Chick, you would have given me a run for my money in your heyday. Let’s be real.”

Let’s be real, indeed.

Wasn’t her scandalous past the reason she never allowed herself to want to have a relationship with the dynamic and domineering music mogul Terrill Carter? But she would be damned if she would let Lace have any leeway when it came to telling her story.

Maritza’s coldest smile chilled down several more degrees and her eyes narrowed. The other reason she opted for a glacier-white office was about to come to bear. The ice queen had to get deep-frozen in order to give Maritza a challenge when some poor unsuspecting fool got her started. And Lil’ Freak Lace Monroe had fool written all over her if she thought Maritza was going to let her keep on.

Her Los Angeles professionalism took a back-seat to Maritza-from-the-block and the Bronx Nuyorican Blacktina came out.

“Chick, you don’t know me. So let me school you on the subject since you seem to want to persist with this line of discussion. While I may have had my share of lovers in my past, the one thing that I have always had is discretion. People may have speculated or wondered, but they could never say for certain who I might have slept with. I’m particular like that with my personal business. You, on the other hand, have chosen to put your own business out there for the world to see. And hey, I can’t knock your hustle…” She shrugged nonchalantly for emphasis.

“But if you want more than your tawdry tales of sex and scandal being gobbled up by the masses and want to move on to something that showcases more of—should I say more than—your talents, then you need to leave the attitude at the door and listen.” Maritza paused for emphasis and to catch her breath.

Lace’s face became increasingly twisted in anger and attitude. The woman seemed to be bubbling up and seething. Maritza took another calming breath.

“Listen—” Lace started.

“No, you listen.” Maritza cut her off. “People can speculate all they want about my past. But that’s all they will ever do. You won’t ever see me letting them into my personal life like that.”

The words I’ll never tell took on new meaning as far as her past was concerned. She didn’t want to talk about it, revisit it or have anything to do with it.

Lace sighed and rolled her eyes. “What-the-hell-ever! I knew this was a bad idea. Chicks are always quick to judge when they know they are just as scandalous and have enough skeletons in they closets to fill a cemetery.”

Maritza took a deep breath and then exhaled. This woman would be work. This woman would also work her nerves and test her religion on the regular. But something inside of her was demanding that she give Lace a chance.

It must have been Maritza’s own little inner ex-video-vixen acting up. It was a good thing she’d stopped letting that child make decisions in her life years ago. But still…

Maritza sighed. She simultaneously hoped she wouldn’t regret what she was about to do and knew without a doubt that she would.

No good deed goes unpunished.

It was her favorite saying and she repeated it like a mantra. Too bad it never stopped her from doing good deeds and trying to help folks who probably weren’t worth helping.

Maritza knew Lace Monroe. Hell, but for a few digit differences in the number of men they had both supposedly slept with or had affairs with, she used to be Lace Monroe. And in her heart Maritza knew that Lace Monroe was nowhere near ready to change her lifestyle. Truth be told, it had taken a traumatic experience that she wouldn’t wish on any woman to make her change so many years ago.

“Okay, Lace, we will take you on as a client, but what we need you to do and to stop doing is firm unless you like throwing your money away. We can’t help you clean up your image if you are bent on continuing to be that scandalous tell-all video ho.”

Lace smiled a real smile that made her look like the young twentysomething she was. “You won’t regret this, Maritza. I swear. This is going to be lucrative for all of us. Because if New Images by Keys and Morales can clean up my image, just think of all the Hollywood and hip-hop clientele you will be getting.”

“We’ll see about that. In the meantime, I am going to set up some shopping trips for us. You will need a new wardrobe. You know the saying ‘Dress for the job you want, not the job you have’? Well, it’s time for you to start dressing for the life you are aspiring to live.” Maritza took a minute to take in Lace’s popping red, super tight and extra short spandex micro-minidress.

“So that means we’re going to need you to be a little less video vixen and a little more businesswoman slash rising starlet. On top of that, it’s time to stop doing moguls and time to start concentrating on becoming one. Your mindset is going to be the hardest thing to change.” Maritza kept her face stern and no-nonsense. She knew she was laying it on heavy with Lace. But she wanted the young woman to know that this wasn’t going to be an easy thing to accomplish.

Changing people’s perceptions of you was a damn near impossible endeavor. But as far as Maritza was concerned, New Images by Keys and Morales dealt in possibility and faced the impossible down until it flinched.

“Am I paying for this lecture or is it a bonus service?” Lace twisted her lips to the side and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, the lectures are free. One thing you should know about me is I keep it real. I shoot straight from the hip. I will always be up front with you and tell you exactly what I think. Some people say I’m bossy.” She gave her signature shrug. “But I tend to think I am well versed in knowing what can and should be done—”

Lace busted out laughing and Maritza couldn’t help herself, she had to join her.

“What’s so funny about that.” Maritza made her face as expressionless as possible considering the fact that she wanted to break into a fit of laughter again. “Am I wrong for thinking that the world would be a much better place if everyone just did what I told them to do?”

Both women laughed at that and Maritza was glad the weird energy between them seemed to be gone.

“I should warn you, Maritza, that I suffer from the same affliction. I’m cursed with knowing what’s best for every situation and unable to keep those thoughts to myself. Something tells me that unless we are on the same page all the time, we are going to bump heads often, maybe even clash.”

Maritza stood up and held out her hand to seal the deal. “Oh, I have no doubt we will clash, Lace. But hopefully we will be able to move past the clashes and get you the results you want. Remember at the end of the day, my suggestions are only meant to help you present the image you say you want to present and get you where you say you want to be.”

Lace shook Maritza’s hand and the genuine smile that surfaced transformed her into a sweet and almost likable woman. “I’m looking forward to working with New Images by Keys and Morales. If anyone can help me get where I want to be it would be Penny Keys and Maritza Morales.” She paused as if considering what she wanted to say. “I really do look up to you two. You both made me want to be a video model and when I look at the successful business you’ve built, you make me want to become more than some rapper’s prop.”

“And you can. You will.” Maritza really did believe that Lace had the tenacity and drive to make it at whatever she put her mind to. The only question was if she was really ready to put her mind and energy on cleaning up her act. Only time would tell.

She walked her to the front door of the office and picked up the stack of pink memo slips her receptionist had left in her in-box. There was a message of a call from Terrill marked urgent.

Without thinking she rushed to her desk and dialed his cell phone number.

“What happened? Is everything okay? Is Penny okay? I knew I should have gone to the funeral. We could have cancelled everything for a few days—” Maritza went off into a barrage of questions as soon as Terrill picked up the phone.

“Calm down, calm down, nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. I just wanted to hear your voice. How are you?” Terrill’s voice sounded strained and a little weary.

Maritza sighed. He didn’t sound like everything was fine. And why the heck did he want to hear her voice?

Kissing him had been such a bad idea!

Yet knowing that and stopping the big old grin that started to form on her face seemed to be impossible to get together. She plopped down on her white leather office chair. It rolled just a little and stopped.

“I don’t understand, Terrill. If it is not about Penny or our business, why would you want to hear my voice?”

Terrill chuckled. It was a sound that normally would have grated her nerves and gotten under her skin. But for some reason in that moment she was relishing the sound of it. It sounded sexy and made her insides get gooey.

Not good.

Change the subject.

“How is Penny? I haven’t had a chance to speak with her since she left.”

“She’s doing as well as can be expected.” He sighed and she could hear the stress in his voice. “Big Mama’s death was unexpected and sudden and Penny is going to need time to cope.”

“She can take as much time as she needs. I can certainly hold down the fort here at the company.” It would be hard, because she and Penny were a perfect team. But she would do whatever she could to help her friend out in her time of need.

“We know you can handle things, Maritza. But I didn’t call to talk about business. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You just wanted to hear my voice and that was urgent?” Maritza winced at the breathy sound of her voice.

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