Larenzo's Christmas Baby. Кейт Хьюит
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Laughing, they clinked coffee mugs.
Claudia’s cell phone vibrated, and when she glanced at the screen, her face brightened. “I apologize for the interruption,” she said, swiping her cell phone off the table. “Do you mind if I take this call? It’s my husband, and I’m worried he’s still stuck at the Orlando airport.”
“Please, by all means, go ahead.”
Claudia pressed her cell phone to her ear. “Santiago, bebé, ¿estás bien?”
For the second time in minutes, Nicco swallowed a laugh. Claudia sounded more like a love-struck teenager, than an accomplished businesswoman who’d recently been featured in top magazines. With her cell phone at her ear, she swept through the café, speaking in a hushed tone. Nicco scoured the café for the blonds in the daisy dukes he’d spotted earlier, but couldn’t find them anywhere. And that sucked, because he needed a woman in his bed bad. Like yesterday. Sex was his favorite pastime, the only thing ever worth missing a round of golf with his brothers for. And Nicco couldn’t think of anything better than having a gorgeous woman—or two—between his black satin sheets.
Punching in his cell phone password, he fired off a quick text to his older brother, Rafael, and waited anxiously for his reply. For months, Nicco had been debating whether or not to buy Javalicious, and as he sat in his corner table watching the staff fly around the room like busy bees, he decided investing in the coffee shop would be a smart, solid business move. And if Rafael agreed, he’d be one step closer to owning the popular Ocean Drive café just steps away from Miami Beach.
“Wesley, I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m a strong, intelligent woman who can take care of herself. Got it?”
Frowning, Nicco shot a glance over his shoulder, curious to see who was responsible for the loud, angry outburst. Seated directly behind him, a woman with short black hair and dressed in pink workout gear spoke on her cell phone. Nicco couldn’t see her face, but there was no mistaking her frustration, or the contempt in her voice for the person on the line.
“Please, you wouldn’t know the truth if it walked up and slapped you!”
Nicco cracked up. But when he saw the puzzled expressions on the faces of the patrons seated nearby, he killed his laughter and pretended to read the menu card propped up against the napkin holder.
“Sorry about that.” Claudia took her seat and rested her cell phone on the table. “My husband was calling to give me an update on his schedule. He’ll be in Miami within the hour.”
“Then don’t let me keep you,” Nicco said. “We’re finished, so go meet your husband.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
Up on her feet, her eyes twinkling like diamonds, she collected her things and flashed a friendly wave. “Take care of yourself, Nicco. I’ll be in touch.”
The second Claudia rushed out the café doors, Nicco searched the room for the woman in the pink workout gear. He found her standing in line, typing furiously on her cell phone, wearing a cheeky grin. Nicco stood in the middle of the café, staring at her. Her facial features were perfect, and so was her taut derriere. Last night, at the grand reopening of Dolce Vita, he’d met scores of women, but they all looked the same—long, silky hair, coats of thick makeup, wearing tiny dresses that left nothing to the imagination. But the woman in front of him now with the killer curves and big brown eyes instantly seized his attention. She’s a stunner, nothing short of magnificent, the most striking woman on the face of the earth.
Nicco moved forward, toward her. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop himself. His hands itched to touch her, to squeeze, to caress and stroke her delectable, hourglass shape. Her tank top showed off toned arms, her leggings fit her body like a second skin, and her neon-pink sneakers drew his gaze down the length of her long, sculptured legs.
God bless the man who invented spandex! The woman had a body that made him salivate. Her looks were jaw-dropping, clear off the Richter scale, and Nicco found it impossible to turn away from her. He more than liked what he saw—her dimpled cheeks, the beauty mark above her mouth and most importantly her fine, feminine figure. His thoughts were all over the place, jumping from one illicit image to the next. Battling the needs of his flesh, he stood transfixed, unable to move.
The woman glanced up from her cell phone and caught his eye. Nicco’s heart rate sped up, beating at a wild, fanatic pace. For a moment, all he could do was stare helplessly at the beauty standing across the room. That’s it. Breathing required every single drop of energy he had left.
Her glossy, pink lips slowly curled into a smile, one that hit him straight in the heart. And when his eyes zeroed in on her moist, lush mouth, Nicco imagined himself planting one on her. A long, sensuous kiss that would turn her on.
Nicco watched the woman pay her bill, and when she headed in his direction, he surfaced from his sexual haze. Clearing his throat, he racked his brain for the right pick-up line, one that would capture her attention and buy him a few precious minutes of her time.
“How was your workout?” Nicco winced when he heard the question slide past his lips.
How was your workout? mocked his inner voice. Surely you can do better than that. Quit staring at her cleavage, man, and get your head in the game!
Her feet slowed and a frown bruised her lips. “My workout?” she repeated, regarding him closely. “Were you in my Bootie Camp class this morning?”
Nicco chuckled. “No, unfortunately I missed it. Where do you teach?”
“Why? Are you looking to drop a few pounds?”
“Do I need to?” Raising an eyebrow, he cocked his head to the right. Nicco wanted her to get a good look at him, so he stood tall and squared his shoulders. He saw her eyelashes widen and flutter, and heard her quick intake of breath. She darted a glance down at his shoes and a sly grin claimed his mouth. That’s right, baby. I wear a size twelve shoe. How you like me now?
“Since you’re a fitness instructor, I’d love your expert opinion.” Nicco rested his hands on his waist and displayed a bold, in-your-face stance. “Am I in good shape or not?”
Rolling her eyes, an exasperated expression marring her features, she heaved her gym bag over her shoulder and stepped past him as if he hadn’t just asked her a question.
Nicco didn’t know what possessed him to touch her, but when his hands connected with her flesh he felt a rush, a charge so powerful his knees buckled. They stood in the middle of the café, staring at each other. His desire for her so strong, his mind went blank. “Please don’t go. We’re not finished talking.”
Leaning forward, he read the name printed on the top hand corner of her tank top. Jariah Brooks. Nicco tried it on for size, allowing the syllables to stroke the length of his tongue, before deciding that her name was as striking as her dark, creamy complexion. “I’d love to take you out sometime, Jariah. Can I get your phone number?”
“I’m busy.”
“Every night?”
“Look,” she snapped, “I’m having a really bad day, and I’m not in the mood