Body Heat. Adrianne Byrd

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Body Heat - Adrianne Byrd Mills & Boon Kimani

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her to come up for air.

      Charlie groaned at the instant hard-on he acquired whenever Gisella spoke French. Now that they’ve said their I dos, Charlie was ready to skip right to the honeymoon, so much so he found himself asking Gisella every five minutes, “Can we leave now?”

      Charlie laughed as his mother gripped his cheeks and tried to pinch the blood out of them. “My baby has made me so proud. Not only did you give me a beautiful daughter-in-law, but I’m finally getting my grandbaby.”

      “Anything for you, Mama.” He kissed her cheek.

      “Of course you know I was right,” she added, releasing his cheeks. “Didn’t I tell you if you found a woman who could cook like your mama then you had a winner?”

      “That you did, Mama.” He wrapped his arm around her.

      “I just wish your father was here to see this day,” she said. “Married and about to become a father. He would be so proud. I am.”

      “Thanks Mom.” He kissed her lovingly on her upturned cheek.

      “Mama Arlene,” Taariq Bryson, a fellow Kappa Psi Kappa brother, greeted her with a wide smile. “I don’t know if Charlie told you, but we talked it over and he’s completely cool with calling me Daddy. All you have to do now is accept my proposal. I’ll make an honest woman out of you.”

      “You’re so bad.” Arlene blushed as she gave Taariq a welcoming hug. “Now when are you getting married?”

      “As soon as you say yes.”

      She rolled her eyes. “You just love me for my fried chicken.”

      “That’s not true. You make a mean sweet potato pie, too.”

      Arlene laughed and then continued to giggle like a schoolgirl when Taariq asked for a dance. As he led her to the dance floor, Charlie was left to shake his head.

      “So you finally did it,” Hylan said, stepping forward and slapping his large hand across Charlie’s back. “You waved the white flag and surrendered to the enemy.”

      Charlie laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t start that with me.”

      “What?” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m just saying. We were supposed to be playas for life. Remember?”

      Derrick Knight, another fraternity brother, rushed up behind Hylan and quickly put him in a headlock. “Whatever he’s saying, don’t listen to him.”

      “Oh, he’s harmless.” Charlie chuckled. “I’m just waiting for the day when he starts waving his own white flag.”

      “It’ll never happen,” Hylan croaked from under Derrick’s arm.

      “It doesn’t make any sense to be so hardheaded,” Derrick said, releasing him.

      Hylan inhaled a deep breath and then playfully lunged a left jab at Derrick’s shoulder. “Mark my words. A brother like me ain’t going down without a fight. You’ll have to pry my playa card out of my cold dead hands.”

      “All right,” Derrick said. “We’re going to hold you to that.”

      “Charlie,” said Stanley, the only white Kappa brother in their clique, as he joined the group. “Your wife’s cake is off the hook. What’s her secret, man?”

      “She didn’t make this cake. Her assistant Pamela insisted on making the cake as a gift. She did a good job.”

      “Pamela, huh? Where is she?” Stanley turned to survey the crowd. “Maybe I’ll marry her.”

      “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear it,” Charlie laughed. “Start with baby steps. Try to get a date first.”

      “Or try to get a woman to stand still long enough for you to introduce yourself,” Hylan added, laughing. It was a tradition to give the lanky redhead a hard time.

      “Ha-ha. Ya’ll gonna get enough messing with me.” Stanley scanned the crowd again. “There’s gotta be someone here I can hook up with. Weddings are the best places for single people to hook up. That and funerals.”

      Hylan and Charlie just stared at him.

      “What? It’s what I heard.”

      “We’re going to pray for you,” Hylan said, rolling his eyes. How Stanley managed to hang with them for fifteen years and still be as square as he was was something short of amazing.

      “Whatever.” Stanley moved his lanky frame closer to Charlie. “So now that you’re off the market, what do you say to passing a playa like me your infamous little black book? I’ve heard that it’s a pretty thick book.”

      “A playa like you?” Hylan snickered. “If anyone should inherit the Holy Grail from my man here, it should be me.”

      “Guys, guys. As much as I’d like to improve your game, I can’t. Gisella and I had a nice farewell ceremony and then tossed the book into the fireplace.”

      Hylan and Stanley blinked and then both pointed at him accusingly. “Judas!”

      Derrick and Charlie laughed.

      “What do a couple of married women have to do to get a dance with their husbands?”

      Derrick and Charlie turned toward their smiling wives.

      “Not a thing,” Charlie said, taking his wife into his arms. “Of course I’m looking forward to a little private dance,” he whispered as he led her toward the music.

      “Oh you’ll get your dance, Mr. Masters. That and a whole lot more.”

      “That’s what I’m counting on, Mrs. Masters. That’s what I’m counting on.”

      Still smiling, Hylan shook his head. Two of the five Kappa brothers were down for the count. He still couldn’t believe it. Hell, it seems like it was just yesterday when they were all piled into Herman’s Barbershop and giving each other dabs and swearing that a honey would never lock them down. “Playas for life,” they had all vowed.

      Now look at them.

      Hylan, along with most of the wedding guests, watched the bride and groom glide across the floor to an old Luther Vandross classic. He had to admit that his buddy, Charlie, had certainly snagged himself a beautiful woman. Gisella glowed like an angel as she stared up into her husband’s eyes and Charlie looked…happy. In fact, Hylan had never seen him so happy.

      There was a sudden tightening in Hylan’s chest. His throat constricted and his eyes…

      A waiter waltzed by and Hylan snatched a flute of champagne from his tray and downed the contents in one long gulp while he tried to shake off whatever the heck that feeling was coming over him. “Maybe it’s just heartburn,” he mumbled as he set the now-empty flute on the next tray that passed by.

      “Need an antacid?” Stanley asked, popping out of nowhere and grinning like one of those funny-looking orange Cheshire cats.

      Hylan

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