Resounding Kisses (3 page)

Ter held onto his frustration and anger all of three minutes. Just long enough to leave the strangely decorated office floor and step into the elevator. As the glass cubicle descended back into the bowels of the city, he found himself smiling in reaction to dealing with Ivy.

She was probably sitting in her office congratulating herself on getting one over on him, but she was mistaken. No one got the best of Terrence Paxton, but he’d let her think that if it made her feel better.

By the time he stepped out of the building and began walking back towards his brother’s place, he was grinning from ear to ear. He started whistling, the tune for a new song taking shape, and he had Ivy to thank. She’d inspired him to write a song.

It didn’t bother him that she’d turned down his lunch invitation. And whether she knew it or not, he hadn’t missed the smug smile she’d tried to hide when she ordered him to come back first thing tomorrow morning. She wanted to see him tomorrow, and that worked perfectly with his plan. His plan to see her again.

He didn’t even let the early meeting time throw him. It was common knowledge among his friends and family that Ter detested getting up early. Like most musicians, he was a night owl, sleeping until noon most days, his nights normally spent in one bar or another, either performing or just hanging out.

But for the lovely Ivy, he’d gladly get up and be at her office at whatever time she chose, because it meant he had another chance to see her. Another chance to ask her out.

She was the most beautiful, most intelligent woman he’d ever met and he was more than a little taken by her. He’d had a hard time concentrating on the contract with her sitting so near, and now he was composing a new song because of her. That had to mean something.

The tune still in his mind, he stopped at a corner deli, something New York City had in abundance, and grabbed a sandwich and some chips. He let himself back into Grant’s apartment ten minutes later and quickly ate while letting the song take shape in his mind.

After tossing his wrappers in the trash, he headed down the hallway to the guest bedroom, stretching his arms above his head as he yawned. A nap would be nice. He lay down on the bed, the new tune rolling around in his head with the image of Ivy fueling his inspiration.

Ter jerked awake when the bedroom door flew open and Grant strolled in with a happy smile on his face. “Hey, man. Why are you still in bed? Get up.”

“Why do you look so happy, that’s disgusting,” he teased his older brother. Since Grant had fallen madly in love with his childhood friend Samantha Armstrong, he wore that dreamy face every time she was nearby.

Sure enough, his brother answered, “Get up and put on something decent. Sam is here. I’ll make coffee.”

Ter licked his lips. Grant was a coffee aficionado, and with his little baby – the La Pavoni Professional spring piston lever espresso machine – he made the best coffee on earth. At the thought of coffee, his mind reverted to Ivy – not that it had strayed far from her, not even while he was asleep.

“Sure. I’ll be up in a few.”

When he strode into the living room, Sam hugged him tight, “Ter, you’re in New York City. What are you doing wasting away the day at our place?”

They sat down on the couch and Grant came in with three cups of steaming hot coffee. The smell filled Ter’s nostrils. “Hmm, if you’re ever out of work, you can become my personal barista.”

Grant chuckled. “Personal barista to a starving musician? No, thanks.”

Sam took a sip of her coffee and then bounced up and down to get Ter’s attention.

He looked between his brother and his sister-in-law to be. “What are you two so excited about?”

“Grant will do a spectacular blow up on Saturday,” Sam said excitedly.

Ter raised a brow at that information and then looked to his brother for an explanation. “What?”

Grant nodded. “Yeah, we’re taking down an eleven story building. Right in the center of Newark.”

“Wow,” Ter offered, not sure if he was as excited as they were. “Congratulations.”

Grant was a demolition expert and specialized in difficult cases, like eleven story buildings, where the surrounding buildings were a mere stone’s throw away. With the construction craze in the Big Apple, his skills were in high demand.

“Say you’ll come and watch it,” Sam urged him with a broad smile that was infectious.

Ter shrugged with a chuckle. “Not exactly my idea of an exciting Saturday morning.”

“Well, I’ll be there. It’s always a huge attraction and tons of people will be there to watch.”

He shook his head at Sam and then looked to Grant. “Is she always this enthusiastic?”

“Only when I’m concerned,” his brother answered, grinning like a fool. “But you just wait, she’ll drop any minute now. She was up at five for a photo shoot and has another one tomorrow.”

“Five a.m.?” Ter asked, horrified.

Sam looked at him. “Contrary to popular opinion, top models do work a lot and have to get up early. I usually leave here right before six and if you woke up before noon, you might actually know that.”

Ter laughed. “Point taken, but when you don’t go to bed until the wee hours of the morning, waking up at the ass crack of dawn isn’t on the radar.”

He watched as Grant sat down opposite her and pulled her feet into his lap. He massaged the cramps from her arches and she closed her eyes, moaning in response.

“God, that feels so good. My feet are killing me.”

Ter looked at Grant and asked, “Do I dare ask why?”

Sam kept her eyes closed, but answered, “I heard that. My feet hurt because the shoes they chose for me to wear today were eight inches high with four inches of platform. My feet hurt thirty seconds after I put them on.”

She opened her eyes and gave Grant one of those sappy looks Ter seemed to see on all of his newly-in-love siblings’ faces these days. It had always amused and bewildered him, but today he felt a different emotion. Jealousy.

Samantha and Grant had been best friends for almost twenty years and had only recently fallen in love. He truly was happy for them, but seeing them together…it reminded him of what he didn’t have. Someone special to share his life with.
Hey man. You have an image to protect here. Bad boy, remember?

And that was part of the problem. Ter had created a public bad boy image that worked well with his life as a rock n’ roll musician, but not so well with any woman he might want to be with. Oh, they had no problem hanging out with a rock star initially. But that life got old after a while.

Most women didn’t want to be dragged around the country from one gig to the next, watching strange women fawn all over their man. More than one of his band mates had a broken relationship or two, to show for the ensuing jealousy that seemed impossible to stop. Talking the truth, the jealousy sometimes had been justified. For a young man in his twenties, it was difficult to resist the temptation the constant offers from willing women posed.

“I’m heading to bed,” Sam said, pulling her feet from Grant’s lap and heading towards the door.

Grant made to follow her. “I’ll come with you.”

Sam waved him off. “No, you won’t. Go have some fun with your brother. I’ll see you later.” She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, plastering her body from hip to shoulder against Grant’s.

They kissed, passionately, and after several minutes when they made no sign of stopping, Ter cleared his throat. Twice. “You guys want to take that into the other room?”

They both laughed and Sam left Grant’s arms to walk around and give Ter a big hug. “You need to find yourself a girlfriend. Then you wouldn’t have time to keep other people from kissing.”

“That was a kiss? Are you sure that’s all it was?” he teased as she sauntered from the room while Grant watched with lust in his eyes. Ter rolled his eyes and told his brother, “You’re welcome to go finish…”

“No,” Grant shook his head, clearing his expression. “I’m good. She really does intend to go to sleep.”

Ter nodded, Sam’s words still echoing in his mind. Girlfriend? Why did that word make him think of Ivy?

“Get up and let’s go hit the city streets,” Grant said and Ter nodded. He was in New York City and he might as well go enjoy it.

***

They headed out, walking of course, because that was the way true New Yorker’s did it.

“So, you still want to move out here?” Grant wanted to know.

“Sure do. The recording studio is here and we’ll practically live in the studio for months. But I sure will miss Sandy Beach. How about you? How do you like the city?”

Grant gave him a look, sidestepping around two kids passing a ball back and forth between them. “Honestly,” he said once they were walking along smoothly again, “the only reason I live here is because of Samantha. I mean, New York City is okay, but Sandy Beach is better. I would never willingly live here. Since I bought my beach house, all I want is to sit on the porch and watch Sam play with our kids. Call me crazy.”

Ter glanced at him. “Well, that’s honest. Does Samantha know how you feel?”

Grant shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t change a thing about our lives right now. We’ve decided to wait on kids a few more years. Top models have a short shelf life and at twenty-four, she has plenty of time for kids and for us to move to Sandy Beach permanently.”

Ter nodded and then followed Grant into a bar that seemed to be filled with mostly the after-work crowd. They wove their way through the suit clad customers until they located a high top table off to the side.

“It’s busy in here,” Ter commented.

“It’s quitting time. People come in here to unwind before they head home. Some of them will have an hour or more drive out of the city before they finally get home for the night. Others, well, they probably live within six or seven blocks and will eventually head home, only to get up and do it all over again.”

“Hi!”

Grant and Ter turned to see a bubbly waitress standing before them. “Hello.”

“What can I get you guys?”

The brothers exchanged a look and he told her. “Two martinis, please.”

“Okay. Be right back,” she said with a quick toss of her head. She was true to her word and returned with two martinis and a flirty look at both men.

Ter chuckled and asked his brother, “Do you ever miss being able to take advantage of situations like this one?”

Grant looked after the waitress. “Who? Her? She’s way too young for me.”

“Ha ha. I bet she’s older than Sam.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Seriously, do you ever miss going out with other women? Do you ever get bored?”

Grant shook his head. “Bored? Hell, no. Samantha is more than enough woman for me.”

Ter nodded, trying to get his head around this monogamy thing all of his siblings had fallen into recently. And more mysterious, they seemed to love. He looked around the room at the rest of the patrons. The men were still wearing their suits, although some of them had loosened or completely removed their ties. A few had even removed their jackets and rolled up the sleeves of their shirts, trying to get comfortable and shrug off the remains of the day.

The women were no different, mostly dressed in business attire. It was still early yet, and he figured they too would start unwinding as the night wore on.

A live band was setting up on the stage and Terrence turned to listen. After they finished their second song, he turned to Grant and acknowledged, “They’re not bad.”

Grant grinned and watched the wheels inside his brother’s head turning. Without disturbing him, he flagged down the waitress and asked, “Can you find me some paper and a pen?”

The waitress glanced at Terrence, who was oblivious to everything but the music now running inside his head, and his alone. She nodded and returned a few minutes later with two pieces of copy paper and a pen. “Will this work?”

Grant nodded his thanks and handed her a five-dollar bill. “Thanks.”

She pocketed the tip and slipped away. Grant slid the paper and pen across the table, interfering with the tapping fingers of his brother. Ter took the pen without looking up, without emerging from his world. He now tapped the rhythm of a forming song with the pen, completely lost in his music. After a while, he scribbled down notes and lyrics on the copy paper until his brother startled him out of his submersion with a nudge to his ribs.

“Three o’clock. Two gorgeous women. The taller one has been checking you out. And she’s hot. Not your usual groupie type, but definitely hot.”

Ter was pulled from his musical wanderings and looked up, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the direction Grant had indicated.

When he met her eyes, he gasped for breath and couldn’t stop the cocky grin that spread across his face. None other than Ivy was ogling him.

He picked up his martini and silently toasted her before taking a sip. He expected her to return the gesture, but instead, she grabbed her purse and fled the bar, grabbing her friend’s arm on her way. Both women disappeared toward the bathrooms while he sat there with a racing heart.

Ivy dragged her best friend, Bella, from their table and straight into the ladies room. She leaned back against the wall and tried to steady her racing heart. When Bella looked at her, she asked, “Did you see that guy?”

Bella grinned. “Two gorgeous hunks sitting to the side of the bar? Coal black hair and bodies to die for? Of course I did. Nothing to run away from.”

“You don’t understand–”

But Bella wasn’t to be interrupted. “The guy with the pen checked you out. I wonder what he looks like without that shirt on? I bet he’s hot. And he has a tattoo. Wonder what else he’s hiding beneath that shirt and those leather pants?”

Bella waggled her eyebrows and Ivy giggled nervously. Just hearing her friend describe Terrence had sent a tingle down her spine, to pool in the pit of her stomach and down to her feminine parts. Exactly where she didn’t want to feel them.

She looked up and found Bella watching her with her arms crossed over her chest. “Who is he? Spill it.”

“The guy in the bar?”

“You know who I’m talking about. Why did we have to run?”

“That’s him.”

Bella pushed away from the sink where she’d been leaning. “Him? Scorching hot singer Terrence Paxton you had a meeting with today? Good for you.”

“He’s a client, for God’s sake.”

“You’ve done nothing but rave about him since you came home this afternoon.”

Ivy shook her head. “Yes. Him. And no, I haven’t been raving about him. He’s a rock star. I don’t date rock stars. I advise them on legal matters. There’s nothing about him. Nothing at all. He’s a bad boy like all of them. That makes him completely unsuitable for me. Look at him.”

Bella laughed out loud. “I sure would love to get another eyeful of him and the other one, but you dragged me away to the ladies room and it’s very unlikely either one of them will show up in here.”

Despite her agitation, Ivy had to laugh. “That’s right. But he’s so not my type.”

“A smoking hot man with the most irresistible grin on his face, and a tattoo around his biceps that just begs to be touched, is not your type? Okay, so what exactly would be your type then? Not the loser you dated twice a few months back, right?”

Ivy stared angrily at her best friend. “I need an intelligent, educated, loving, and loyal man. Most of all loyal. Rock stars like Ter fit none of those criteria.”

“You’re calling him Ter? Honey, this is much worse than I thought.”

“It’s not. As you well know, its company policy to use first names.”

Bella laughed, ignoring her protest. “From what I saw, he was doing a pretty good job of checking you out.”

“No, he wasn’t. He probably was looking at you.”

“Trust me on this one, honey, I’ve flirted with enough men to be one hundred percent sure he was checking you out, not me.”

“You’re wrong,” Ivy insisted. Several other women stepped inside the bathroom and their conversation halted. When the women left, and they were once again the only ones in the bathroom, Bella sighed.

Ivy leaned her head back against the bathroom wall, regretting having let Bella talk her into coming to this after work party. She was the exact opposite of Ivy. Where Ivy was cautious, Bella forged ahead without a concern for her own safety.

“Are we going to hide in here all night long? It is a bathroom.”

Ivy scowled at her friend. “I’m not hiding.”

“Good,” Bella gave her a pensive glance. “Then I think it’s time you get some experience with a real guy.”

“What do you mean by that? I have been dating.”

Bella grabbed her hand and pulled her back out into the bar. “Yes, those wimpy losers you can give orders to and they let you be in charge. It’s about time you got laid by a real guy.”

Ivy protested. “I don’t need or want to get laid. And especially not by him.”
Yes, I want.

Bella didn’t bother to answer and Ivy felt like a lamb led to the slaughter, wondering how in the world she’d ended up BFF with Bella. The only thing they had in common was their love of the law. They’d studied together at Columbia Law School and had been roommates since their graduation and passing of the bar exam.

Her friend worked in the legal department of the famous fashion magazine
Fashion Now
, owned by the goddess of the fashion industry Sara Newsom. Bella had the looks to be a model herself and she loved to flirt, her sassy personality blending perfectly with her love of being seen out and about the city.

She made a beeline for the table where Terrence and Grant were still sitting, tossing her gorgeous braids over her shoulder and cocking her head when the guys turned to look at her and Ivy.

Bella placed a seductive smile on her curved lips painted with apricot colored lip gloss that matched her caramel brown skin. Her eyeshadow was in the same apricot color and plenty of black mascara made her eyelashes appear even longer and thicker. She definitely was a looker and men couldn’t resist her.

Ivy watched in awe as she transformed from best friend to man slaying vamp in mere seconds. She swayed her hips and batted her eyes at the two men. “Hi. I’m Bella and this is Ivy. Do you mind if we join you guys?”

Grant laughed. “Grant. Be my guest. I’m already taken, but my brother Terrence here is available. Do your best, sweetheart.”

They’re brothers? Ivy looked at them. They resembled each other, had the same huge frame and impressive presence, but while Grant had brown eyes, Ter’s emerald green eyes were unique. The moment she felt them upon her, her skin tightened up, uncomfortable and thrilled at once to be the object of his scrutiny. When his eyes captured hers, she almost drowned in the depth of them. This was dangerous territory and she cast her eyes down, out of fear of not being able to resist his attraction one moment longer.

She felt – and probably looked – like a picture of misery, uncomfortable in her own skin, trying to avoid having to look at, or speak to, Ter. His nearness made her insides tremble and she cursed Bella for dragging her into this situation.

Before she could think of a way out, a firm hand pushed her forward, placing her next to Ter’s side of the table while Bella scooted around behind her and blocked her escape. There was no way to extricate herself from the situation without being rude or looking foolish.

For the life of her, Ivy couldn’t open her mouth. How was she supposed to form a coherent thought when his presence made her brain cells go to mush?

Ter kept his eyes trained on her while he absentmindedly engaged Bella in a conversation. “Bella, that’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer at a fashion magazine. How about you? Ivy says you’re a rock star?”

He inclined his head. “Rock star? Sounds much nicer than my brother’s description.”

Bella grinned. “And that would be?”

Grant rolled his eyes as Ter answered, “Starving musician.”

Bella looked around and her face suddenly brightened. “Hey, I see someone over there I need to talk to. It was really nice meeting you both.”

Ivy watched in horror as her friend prepared to abandon her. Bella leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Have fun and text me if you need me. I’ll stick around for a while.”

Ivy growled back. “I hate you, you know that, right?”

Bella just grinned and hurried off. She turned back to see Ter and his brother watching her carefully. She sighed, now she was trapped with the most gorgeous guy ever, the one who’d made her world spin upside down.