Table of Contents

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Chapter Eleven

- Chapter Twelve

- Chapter Thirteen

- Chapter Fourteen

- Chapter Fifteen

- Chapter Sixteen

- Chapter Seventeen

- Chapter Eighteen

- Chapter Nineteen

- Chapter Twenty

- Chapter Twenty-One

- Chapter Twenty-Two

- Chapter Twenty-Three

Mine

Falling for a Rose Book Seven

By

Stephanie Nicole Norris

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Note from the Author

More Books by Stephanie Nicole Norris

About the Author

Note from the Publisher: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead or references to locations, persons, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters, circumstances and events are imaginative and not intended to reflect real events.

Mine

Falling for A Rose Book Seven

Copyright 2018 Stephanie Nicole Norris

Love is a Drug, Ink.

All Rights Reserved and Proprietary.

No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form or format without written permission from Author. Send all requests via email to

stephanie@stephanienicolenorris.com

Dedication

To my reading family, thank you for your continuous support!

Chapter One

Mukul Resort

Guacalito de La Isla, Nicaragua

Steam rose from the jacuzzi hot tub as Phoebe dipped her toes inside.

“Mmmm,” she moaned as the heated water covered an entire foot.

Gently, Phoebe swept her other foot inside, allowing her legs to sink in to her knees. Sitting on the edge of the tub while donned in an all-white two-piece bikini, Phoebe cozied up to the steamy bath, giving her body time to soak up the heat that now seeped through her pores. Initially, Phoebe wanted to dip her entire body under the calming waters, but now she was having second thoughts as it would take her stylist half a day to recreate her glowing shine and straight tresses. She played around with the idea a little bit more. Then, with her hands pressed into the cemented surface, Phoebe lifted her luscious frame and slowly descended into the whirlpool.

“Now that feels good,” she said.

Phoebe’s long black strands fell to her shoulders, instantly getting wet once coming in contact with the water. Resting against the wall of the tub, Phoebe’s head fell back, and her eyes closed. The torrid water and jet stream were a constant message in her shoulders, back, and buttocks.

“Mmmm,” Phoebe moaned again, her mind whirling with thoughts of the day’s festivities.

After being widowed for over twenty years, Phoebe’s father, multimillionaire business mogul Christopher Lee Rose, remarried with a beachside wedding on Guacalito de La Isla in Nicaragua. It was something Phoebe never thought she would witness. After so many years of being single and watching his kids grow, unbeknownst to Phoebe, her father had inadvertently fell in love with Norma Rodriguez. When Phoebe’s mother Janet was still alive, Norma had been hired as their housekeeper. With their family growing almost every year with a new brother or sister, Janet could barely keep up with the daily goings-on of a housewife. Not to mention the home they resided in was practically the size of a football stadium.

At the time, Janet had thought they would need at least three maybe even four others to help with the massive structure. But she’d soon found out, along with everyone else, that Norma was more than well equipped to handle the place. It wasn’t until Janet’s life was taken in a home invasion did Norma fall into a role she never intended to be in. Norma had grown to love their family like her own, becoming a friend, nurturer, and sounding board. More than that, she’d become their mother figure. And no one deserved happiness more than she.

Phoebe and her sisters and brothers had been more than ecstatic. And now here she was hours after the wedding had taken place, trying to keep her mind from venturing to a man who ruled her thoughts on any given day. Quentin Davidson.

With little to no effort, Phoebe’s mind filled with images of his dark brown skin, dangerous chestnut brown eyes, dread locks that had initially started as small plats but now hung to his shoulders neatly dressed like an Egyptian king’s head crown. A neatly short-cut groomed beard sat around his chin and magnificent lips, and he carried his powerful ripped physique on six feet, three inches of testosterone. As a fitness expert by day and a lady killer by night, Quentin’s solid build was unmatched to anyone Phoebe had ever seen. But besides his masculine build, Quentin was everything Phoebe wanted in a man.

Graduating from Harvard with a bachelor’s degree in business management, Quentin grew his chain of fitness centers from the ground up. Now, as the owner of thirty-two gyms trailing the southeast, the southwest, and a plethora of endorsements; Quentin had become a multimillionaire business tycoon. His career skyrocketed, making him the spokesman for energy drinks, healthy snack bars, and an instructor for workout videos that sold across the globe. Society had deemed him an overnight success. But, Phoebe knew better.

Since she was ten years old, Phoebe had watched Quentin grow into the man he was today. And nothing about his success was as simple as being overnight. Witnessing his transformation had been beautiful. Something like a poem that started out rough around the edges before forming into beautiful words that shaped the heart of the person speaking them. It started out as a crush. He was, unfortunately, Phoebe’s brother’s best friend. And they had already considered anything romantic between she and Quentin forbidden.

It was too bad because Phoebe’s crush was developing with each passing day into a soul-stirring love that burned so hot she’d rather swim in a volcano than tussle with it. No one understood the longing she held for him, not even Quentin himself. At first, Phoebe was sure Quentin had a thing for her, too. When she would catch him staring whenever she’d come around. Or even when they exchanged phone numbers when he came back from college. At times he’d play it off as if he was being a caring friend or big brother. But Phoebe needed to be certain. It was like playing mind games trying to figure it out. So, a few weeks before Christmas, Phoebe had built up the courage to confront him. And confront him, she did. Like it was yesterday, the memory cruised through her mind. Phoebe had shown up to one of Quentin’s fitness centers he frequented. Earlier in the month, she’d decided to become an official member of the gym. Not because she needed or wanted to work out, but it was the only excuse she had to see him.

On this day, she’d entered with her head held high, and her hair slicked back in a high ponytail, confidence oozing. Wearing tights and a sports bra, Phoebe sauntered through the doors in search of him. Finding Quentin in the back didn’t halt her steps or make her think twice. The courage in her was potent. Her feet moved in his direction, and as she got closer, a stirring in her belly rummaged.

She found him lifting weights. Ones that she couldn’t raise if her life depended on it, but still she’d told his spotter to take a hike so she could get an overview of his bulging muscles and ripped abs. Phoebe smiled thinking about his tight picturesque frame pushing and bending the bar over his head.

Quentin’s eyes were closed, and he wore earplugs. As he worked, she watched, and it almost took her out. Without question, Phoebe’s body had torched, and the stirring in her belly had turned into a full-fledged tornado. Quentin had replaced his bar on its base and sat up. With her courage heightened, Phoebe had rushed around to face him and propped her leg up on the bench he sat on.

Quentin had reached for his towel to blot dry his face, and finally, his gorgeous eyes met hers. A current of heat waved over Phoebe, and when Quentin spoke, the gruffness in his tone had given her an inkling that Phoebe’s appearance threw him off his axis—just as his did hers.

“I need you to help me with something,” she had said. “An exercise.”

It was over from there. Quentin and Phoebe ended up in the dance studio behind closed doors. They’d kissed so hard and hungry that a raging population of chills flourished over her skin. Phoebe’s heart had swelled. Finally, they could admit their attraction for one another, but Phoebe’s victory was short-lived when Quentin decided to stop their tongue dance in favor of the oath he’d given her brothers. Or so that’s what he said. Phoebe wasn’t convinced.

She was done chasing him after that. It was the last thing she had to do. It wasn’t like there was a shortage of men waiting in line to take her out. There were plenty, but none seemed to pique her interest like that of Quentin Davidson. For days, Phoebe’s attitude had been sour. Trying to study some of the information her paralegal had given her for her next court case had been like watching paint dry.

Her focus had been completely thrown off. And then something unexpected happened. Quentin showed up at her father’s beachside wedding. He’d sauntered down the aisle and quickly found a seat close to the front row. Their eyes met and held immediately, then his mouth moved.

“Me… You… 2 p.m.”

That was it. Phoebe’s heartbeat raced, and she’d wondered what their meeting would entail. But much to her chagrin, when Quentin had walked through the door with his eye trained on approaching her at the bar, her brother Jonathon stepped in, unknowingly taking Quentin off of his mission.

“Aye, brother, what’s going on, what time did you get here?” Jonathon had said.

Quentin slipped a quick look her way then kept his complete attention on Jonathon. As a matter of fact, it was as if she’d been an afterthought. Jonathon had invited Quentin over to the other side of the restaurant, where he and her other brothers were dining and having a few drinks. Quentin didn’t reject their request, and without another glance back at her, he was gone.

Phoebe blew out a deep breath. As a criminal justice attorney, Phoebe hadn’t met a case that was harder to break than that of Quentin Davidson. The jet stream in the jacuzzi tub continued to drill into her back. Although Phoebe had never been with a man sexually, her burning desire for Quentin made her feel like the horniest person on earth. The back and forth was driving her crazy, and knowing that he resided in the private villas, in walking distance from where she was, gave Phoebe another round of bravado. Taking the plunge, Phoebe held her breath and sank beneath the heated waters. She hovered there for a second before coming back to the surface. Breathing in air, Phoebe made her way out of the tub and traipsed across the beach, and down the shore.

A mild breeze sailed into the wind, tussling a few wet strands of hair against her face. The moon was full, and the stars aligned in the dark sky, leading a trail that highlighted her pathway. As her feet sank into the sand, Phoebe’s thoughts were tunneled on one mission alone. When the beach house came into view, Phoebe’s steps paused but only long enough for doubt to creep inside of her. What if he wasn’t alone? How embarrassing would that be? Phoebe took another encouraging step, then paused, unsure of how to proceed.

Chapter Two

She didn’t know how bad she affected him. Quentin stood in the living room of the 8,621 square-foot beach house. With his hands resting in the pockets of his casual khaki shorts, he watched her through the glass door. From where he stood, she couldn’t see him looming in the shadows of the night. But he had a clear view of her, the moment her goddess-like figure revealed itself.

Quentin had been perched on the edge of the pool table, drinking a glass of scotch. With a pool stick in his hand, he made attempt after attempt to focus on anything other than her, but it was futile because every time his mind shifted, there she was.

“This must’ve been what it was like for Adam in the garden,” he’d whispered. “Presented with the best fruit in all of the land but forbidden to taste.”

Wanting Phoebe from afar was the most challenging obstacle in Quentin’s existence. He’d fully mastered the way he led his life and dominated every situation thrown in his path. But Phoebe Alexandria Rose had become the one person who could own him, unequivocally. Being best friends with her brothers, Quentin had always seen Phoebe as his own little sister. Back then, she was a skinny, sometimes snaggletooth little girl, with a smart mouth and a thousand plats.

Separated by four years of age was a big deal then, and whenever his friends would have a problem with some lil boy trying to step to Phoebe or her identical sisters, Jonathon, Jacob, and he would quickly intervene. At the time, it drove Phoebe crazy. According to her, she would never have a boyfriend if they didn’t mind their own business. But her business was his business whether she liked it or not. That friendship was a natural loving one, but when Phoebe turned seventeen, her skinny legs took shape, and her thin hips rounded out.

Quentin had felt like a full-on pervert watching her one day. And since then, he’d avoided coming close to her like the plague. It was disheartening now because out of all of that evading; it had not put out the fire that burned in him for her.

Phoebe had blossomed into a beautiful woman, with book smarts that had her graduating high school at sixteen.

Now, she was an attorney at Rose and Garnet LLC.

Quentin had never been so thoroughly turned on because of a woman’s brains over her beauty. But Phoebe was one of a kind, and in the torrent depths of Quentin’s mind, she belonged to him. There was just one problem, and it was quite huge. His best friends would kill him. Quentin considered himself a pretty solid guy; he could take on the best of the best.

But if surrounded by that of the legendary Rose men, he was sure to be exiled after getting a thorough beat down. Quentin had thought about sitting his friends down and having a serious conversation about the nature of his love for Phoebe. It would’ve been a good idea had he not grown up with them. But unfortunately, his brothers from another mother knew him too well. His history with women wasn’t misunderstood. Quentin was the love ‘em and leave ‘em guy. They witnessed his trail of broken hearts and had to assist him with fighting off other brothers, uncles, and sometimes daddies when it came to their precious women. It wasn’t completely Quentin’s fault. The women knew he wasn’t looking to settle down; they went into a steamy night of sexual escapades knowing he would possibly never call again. But it didn’t stop them from falling, and that didn’t stop Quentin from walking away. Now when it came to his forbidden fruit, the odds were stacked against him.

When Quentin had gotten news that Christopher and Norma would be wed, he quickly rescheduled appointments and redirected calls to his assistant before grabbing the next flight out to Nicaragua.

The trip was just the excuse he needed to see her again, and when Phoebe turned her beautiful face toward him, Quentin had reached for the stars and set a date he had every intention on fulfilling. It was a sweet irony that Jonathon had intervened, even though he had no idea of Quentin’s intentions.

But if his progress hadn’t been stopped, Quentin would have dragged Phoebe’s sexy ass right back to his space and done God knows what to her. He had called it fate. It just wasn’t meant to be. But now she stood, like an offering in the moonlit night. So close, that he could reach her in four long strides.

“Go away…” Quentin pleaded, frightened by the activities they would surely get into if she came any closer.

When Phoebe halted, Quentin could’ve sworn she’d felt his desperate plea, but then she took a bold step. Then another one, and before he knew what happened, Quentin had abandoned his spot for the front door. It creaked open, and he stepped out of the shadows, his broad shoulders bare, and his eyes giving off a sparkling gleam in the moonlight.

Phoebe paused again, and her heartbeat knocked at the sight of his gorgeous materialization. He didn’t make a move toward her, just stood as if he dared her to venture closer. Phoebe didn’t break many rules. Considering her profession, it was one thing she took pride in. But there was a saying about rules being meant to be broken, and this was one of those times when she didn’t give a damn. As if something inside her snapped, Phoebe’s feet began to move. Seeing her pace accelerate, Quentin freed his hands from his pockets and matched her stride, his legs moving with a force of agility that brought them face to face within seconds.

As he reached down to gather her up, Phoebe jumped into his arms, and the connection of their skin scorched their bodies and tingled every nerve ending dancing inside them. Their mouths fused together, and their hungriness became greedy. With fervent kissing, they sucked, bit, and pulled at each other’s lips, ravenous and unrelenting.

Quentin palmed Phoebe’s derriere, placing a squeeze on her ass so tight she yelped into his mouth. A thunderous animalistic growl fled his throat and with her ass in his hands, he rubbed her crotch against his rock-hard shaft, desperate to be inside her.

“Take me inside,” she breathed into his mouth. “If you want, I don’t care,” she retracted.

With purpose, Quentin didn’t fight, turning and taking the few steps before climbing the natural oak porch and entering the pine-oak beach house. Knowing the interior from memory, Quentin kept his focus on sucking in Phoebe’s lips while he walked them to a bedroom. His arms skimmed up her back and untied her bikini top. The thin piece of fabric fell to the side, and Quentin pulled back to look at her. His dark gaze scoured her cocoa brown flesh, still wet from the jacuzzi tub. When his eyes took in her cinnamon brown breast and dark chocolate nipples, his pupils took on another shade of night.

“You’re wet,” his dark voice boomed. Quentin coached his body not to react too quickly to her beauty but seeing her bare beautiful breasts tore through his libido.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“You were out in the dark waters this late?” he questioned.

Phoebe smirked, even in the sweltering heat, Quentin was concerned for her.

“Wet for you,” she said.

Quentin pulled his gaze from her nipples back to her beautiful face. Her lips withdrew into a devilish smile, and his hands sank into her wet strands. With a fierce grip, he pulled her face to his and kissed her chin, cheek, and the corner of her lips before drawing her head back and biting down on her jaw. A rainstorm of heat blazed through Phoebe, and her nipples cowered into nubs.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into, Phoebe?” Before she could respond, he finished, “Saying things like that to me could get you in a lot of trouble. And I do mean trouble in every…sense…of the word.”

Phoebe shivered under his sharp predatory bite. As if he claimed her for all others to keep their hands off.

“It’s the truth,” she practically whispered, her voice trembling with an exciting fear she’d never known.

Quentin moved with her wrapped around him to a piece of lounge furniture on the other side of the room. Removing his vicious teeth from her chin, Quentin kissed over her skin and untied the strings on the hips of her bikini bottoms. Laying her soft body on the furniture, Quentin removed the thin material, and his gaze drank in her glistening peach.

“Fuck… me,” he said, falling to his knees to gain a closer look.

Phoebe swallowed, and her throat tightened as she watched him breathe in her essence. His pushed his face against her moist lips and gently kissed her there. The soft push of his mouth made her shiver with a buzz crawling up her belly to her breasts. When his tongue invaded her slippery sanctuary, Phoebe pulled in a wind-curdling gasp. With an expert tongue, Quentin tousled her clitoris, flipping the wet muscle over her sensitive flesh.

“Oooooh…” Phoebe moaned as her head fell back and her eyes crossed.

A drizzling drum trekked from Quentin’s throat, and he pressurized the force of his tongue.

“Aaaah, Oh my God!” Phoebe sang. She had never felt anything this blissful. Sex couldn’t be better than this. Could it?

Her body began to quiver, just as a sailing path of torched nerves scuttled up her spine. Quentin covered her pussy entirely with his mouth, suckling her with the mission to quench his thirst. In one elongated slurp, he took a tongue over the folds of her labia, lashing at her stiff, juicy pearl. A cycling buzz from her clit made Phoebe hotter, sending a beating pulse pounded through her sensitive flesh. Before she had a mind to comprehend what was happening, she was coming.

“Oh God.” Her legs quaked, and she felt out of control as a profound knocking ripped through her core, and a violent wave of crème eased out to meet his thirsty mouth. The piece of furniture rocked as Phoebe’s trembles became reckoning spasms. The momentum caused her body to sail into his mouth harder, and as if he hadn’t dined on anything so deliciously fulfilling in all his life, Quentin lapped and sucked, covering every corner of her vagina with his tongue.

“Damn it, girl…” he rumbled. “You just couldn’t stay away,” he murmured. “Why’d you go and do this to me?” He licked her some more, sucking in her flesh as if it killed him not to do so.

Numbly, Phoebe gazed down at his half-lit eyes, her legs still vibrantly shaking.

“On the contrary,” she purred. “I think it is you who has done it to me.” Phoebe licked her lips. “That was so damn good. My God.” She closed her eyes and opened them as her head spun.

Quentin smirked. “That was just making love to this pussy, sweetheart. I have yet to eat your ass out.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, and something akin to a nostalgic desire crept into her bones. Quentin kissed her mound then moved up her belly to her navel than her breast. With his mouth, he inhaled one knotted nipple, sucking, teasing the areola inside his heated cove. His hands explored her body, gliding up her fermented skin. Each time his fingers sunk into her luscious flesh, her body tinged with another round of sordid heat.

“Mmmm,” Phoebe moaned, wrapped in the warmth of his body. “Quentin…” she purred, dazed in a cocoon of rapture.

“Yes, baby,” he said, slurping in her nipples.

His dick pushed against her center, and Phoebe burned with desire.

“Take off your shorts,” she said.

Quentin slipped his dark gaze up at her, lifting high enough for her nipple to pop out of his mouth. His eyes combed over her face as if he hadn’t committed each detail to memory long ago. With ease, he stood and removed his shorts without haste. When his erection sprang free, Phoebe moved back without realizing it.

Her eyes traveled to his dark orbs, then back down again. “You have not been using that to have sex,” she said, fascinated at the swollen thickness of his length and tipped curve of his head. Quentin stepped forward and kneeled, picking her legs up to toss them over his shoulder.

“You’re not scared, are you?” his deep voice drummed. Taking his shaft in his hand, Quentin popped the top of her vagina with his distended member.

Phoebe quivered softly, then lied, “No, but…” she hesitated, and so did he.

“But what?” he said, easing down on top of her with the head of his penis at her opening.

“Be careful... please,” she said.

Something in her voice gave him pause, and Quentin studied her for a long moment. A thought crossed his mind, and he shook it off with a dismissing laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, “I’m tripping, I almost thought…”

“Thought what?”

Quentin kissed her lips. “For some reason, I got the crazy idea that you could be a virgin.” He chuckled and pressed into her, but her vagina was sealed shut even with her being superbly wet.

Phoebe shut her eyes and bit her bottom lip. “Quentin,” she said.

“Yes, baby.”

“I am a virgin.”

Quentin’s movements froze, and a second passed before he withdrew from her completely to sit back on his haunches.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed, her eyes wide with panic.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

Phoebe closed her legs and sat up. “What reason would I have to lie to you? I don’t understand, what’s the problem?”

Quentin covered his mouth with his hand briefly then dropped his hand as his probing gaze dug into her. “You came here knowing we would possibly have sex, but you’re a virgin.”

Exasperated, Phoebe nodded and shrugged as annoyance crept in. “Yeah, so, what’s your point?”

Quentin was quiet again, trying to find his words but incredibly taken aback by her revelation.

“What is it? You don’t like virgins?” Phoebe folded her arms, seconds from getting out of pocket.

“What?” he balked. “No, I mean yes, I mean…” he sighed and slipped his arms back around her waist, sinking his face into her chest.

Phoebe draped her arms over his shoulders and hugged him, embracing his strong back as he breathed into the center of her breasts. Neither of them moved, for long seconds, they just held one another in a warm blanket of heat. Quentin’s hands trailed up her back then down her spine to her bare buttocks.

Phoebe didn’t know what to think. To say she was confused was putting it mildly. But she waited for him to say something. Anything that would explain why they weren’t having sex.

Quentin turned his face up to speak when a heavy knock ricocheted against the screen door.

“Aye yo, Q!” Jonathon yelled inside. “I hope you don’t have company, man, because I’m coming in.”

Quentin and Phoebe both cursed at the same time.

“Where are you, man, we’re all going down to the beach to have a last night celebration before brunch tomorrow.”

Jonathon’s voice was getting closer, and quickly, Quentin removed himself from Phoebe’s grasp and stepped back into his shorts. Phoebe had never seen a man move that fast. Only lightning could beat his speed. Within seconds Quentin was standing at his bedroom door just in time to stop Jonathon from coming any further.

“You know,” Quentin said, “it’s rude to just enter a man’s quarters and traipse all through his space without permission.”

Jonathon cracked a smile. “Then you shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked and opened. I could’ve been anyone coming in to leave you for dead.”

At the mention of death, Quentin eased out of the room and shut the door behind him, just as Jonathon peeped a pair of bikini bottoms on the floor. Jonathon smirked.

“Oh, you got company. I should’ve known,” he said. “Who is it, the girl from the hotel bar?”

“No,” Quentin said, peeking over his shoulder.

Jonathon shut his jaw. “My bad,” he whispered. “Why don’t you bring her down, and you guys can get back to your thing afterward.”

“I think you and the fellas can have fun without us,” Quentin retorted.

“You’re right,” Jonathon said, “we could, but it’s our only night. Besides,” he slapped a hand on Quentin’s shoulder and whispered, “The one with the shortcut bob that was eye-fucking you from the karaoke machine is down there. I know you want to get at her. She’s your type.”

A thump sounded against the bedroom door, and Quentin knew Phoebe was listening to their conversation.

“I’ll tell you what, if that will get you the hell out of here, let’s go,” Quentin said.

“Wait, you’re not going to get ya girl?” Jonathon frowned.

“Na’ll, she’ll be waiting when I get back.”

Jonathon chuckled. “Aight, let’s go.”

“Let me grab a shirt. I’ll be outside in a minute.”

“Do that,” Jonathon said.

Jonathon turned to leave; his heavy footsteps neared the front door before the screen bounced off its hinges from his exit. Quentin re-entered the bedroom to find a now clothed Phoebe scowling with her arm crossed.

Quentin moved closer to her and kept his voice low.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I don’t think you are,” she said.

Quentin sighed. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Tell him to take a hike.” Phoebe rolled her eyes. “I have a feeling if I was the girl at the bar, you wouldn’t be so quick to leave.”

“Do you have to make this about us?”

“It is, isn’t it? Be honest with me, Quentin. If I were some random chick,” she paused. “A random virgin chick,” she added, “would you be so quick to leave?”

Quentin gritted his teeth. “You don’t understand.”

“That’s one thing you’ve got right,” she said, pushing past him to leave.

Quentin caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving. It seems there’s a bonfire on the beach that everyone’s in a hurry to get to.”

She tried to shake him off, but he tightened his grip.

“If you walk out that door, you’ll run straight into your brother,” he said.

Phoebe shrugged. “I’m not the one scared of him,” she insisted.

Quentin narrowed his eyes and pulled her back, firmly, against his chest.

“This has nothing to do with me being scared of anyone, and you know it.”

“Whatever,” she said. “You better leave, or I will.” Phoebe folded her arms.

Quentin wavered, and she lifted a brow with her mouth tight and her attitude on ten.

“As you wish,” he said, walking around her to leave the room.

“No, as you wish,” she mumbled under breath. It would be the last time she ever gave Quentin Davidson the time of day.

Chapter Three

A celebratory dance was underway when Jonathon and Quentin made it to the other end of the beach. With a few locals and the staff from the bar, they clapped hands and circled Christopher and Norma in a dance of congratulations. Quentin went straight for the open cooler that sat tight in a chunk of sand. It was filled with ice and Corona stretched through the dense cubes.

Seeing them walk up, Jacob and Jordan offered up a Que-dog whistle.

“The dogs are here!” They shouted.

Quentin and Jonathon smirked and began to step like they did whenever someone mentioned their Omega Psi Phi fraternity. Their moves brought the attention of the locals and a few curious eyes from women lingering around. The men became louder as they shouted and moved, stomping and dipping down to show off their unique talents.

“Aww shit, don’t hurt ‘em now,” Octavia, Jonathon’s wife, shouted.

With their faces scrunched in a tight mask, Jonathon and Quentin pulled their hands to the sides of their face with their arms open in their fraternity’s signature pose.

“Aye!” Quentin shouted.

“Aye!” Jonathon followed.

Jacob moved from his seating position and stood in line with his brothers as they stomped, kicking up sand and barking out shouts. No one noticed Phoebe coming from the same direction that Jonathon and Quentin had come. They were so engrossed watching the men step that she slinked passed them and came around to find a seat next to her sister Eden.

Leaning over to her, Eden whispered, “Nice try, but I’m your twin, and I see everything.”

Phoebe shrugged. “I wouldn’t have cared if everyone else saw me, too.”

Eden’s brows bunched as she frowned at Phoebe. “Well, that’s a first.”

“How?” Phoebe said, “I’m tired of feeling like I’m sneaking around my family like I’m a child. I’m not you know. I’m a fully grown, kick-ass attorney, and I don’t need anyone in my damn business.”

“Uh, oh,” Jasmine, Phoebe’s triplet sister said, leaning. “What happened this time?”

Phoebe huffed and turned to peer at Quentin. In his thin gray T-shirt, his muscles flexed and his biceps bulged as he stepped next to her brother. Sharply, she turned her eyes away and scrambled to grab a cold Corona.

The men finished their step with a loud howl that the rest of the men imitated. Excitement and laughter bubbled around them, but Phoebe’s attitude went sour by the second. She twisted the top of the beer and took a swig, plopping back down next to her sisters.

“Whoa, whoa,” Jordan said. “There’s a minor with an alcoholic beverage, somebody call 911,” he joked, and everyone laughed but Phoebe and Quentin.

Phoebe rose to her feet and poured beer all over Jordan.

“Hey, girl, what the hell?” he shouted.

“For your information Jordan, I am not a minor, I am a grown ass woman!” she snapped. “I have a higher success rate at your law firm than any of your junior partners period! I don’t need anyone telling me what to do, looking over my damn shoulder, or telling me who to screw! Because I will do what the hell I please, and I will screw whomever the hell I want!” She tossed the bottle, and everyone in Jordan’s angle ducked.

“Phoebe!” Jordan yelled.

“Go to hell!” she said, marching off down the beach in the opposite direction.

They all stared after her with eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Jordan stood to his feet and went after her, and so did Quentin.

“Can somebody tell me what’s going on?” Christopher said.

Stalking down the beach, Phoebe’s madness was on high, even as the soft winds turned cool, making her fold her arms and shiver.

“Phoebe!” Jordan yelled as he and Quentin jogged to catch up with her.

“Leave me alone, Jordan.”

Jordan reached out to stop her angry escape. She whipped around with a glare and an icy stare that cut through him.

“I’m sorry!” Jordan said. “I was just playing with you; I didn’t think you were going to get all Zena warrior princess on me.”

Phoebe waved him off and turned back around, purposefully ignoring Quentin’s probing gaze.

“Phoebe!” Jordan called out, reaching for her again.

“Leave me alone! I didn’t come all the way down here for you to follow me. I need to be by myself.” Phoebe continued to trek down the beach.

“There’s no one down the beach this way,” Quentin said to Jordan.

“We’ll have to watch her from here. She wants to be left alone.”

They both stood there watching Phoebe stroll down the beach.

“What do you think is wrong with her?” Jordan asked.

Quentin let out a breath and pulled a hand over his face.

“From that outburst, I would say she’s tired of being treated like a child.”

Jordan frowned. “I was just messing with her, man. I do that all the time; she’s never lashed out like this.”

“Maybe she’s tired of it. You know she’s been saying for years we need to mind our business.”

“That’s only when it involves some dude she likes,” Jordan said. Quentin didn’t respond, and Jordan pulled his eyes away from Phoebe’s disappearing form to Quentin’s emotionless face. “She’s not seeing anybody, is she?” Jordan asked.

“Nah, not that I know of,” Quentin responded.

Jordan cast his eyes back down the beach. “She’s gotta be seeing someone. I’ll find out,” he promised.

There was a brief moment when Quentin sized Jordan up, but just as quickly he shook the possible confrontation from his mind. He was going crazy. In his heart, Quentin knew Phoebe was the one, and tonight he’d crossed the line with her, but he was unapologetic. There were only two things he could do. Have what he knew would be an unpleasant interaction with his best friends, or leave Phoebe alone. Neither of those options were satisfactory for Quentin.

“I’m going to get closer, I can barely see her now,” Quentin said.

“Hey,” Jordan called out.

Quentin glanced back to him.

“Make sure she’s all right, and bring her back.”

Quentin nodded, turning his stroll into a steady jog.

Phoebe stood still with the wind against her face, catching her hair in its swiveling currents. Her outburst had been a first, but it had been brewing a long while. What could she say, Phoebe was severely frustrated, and it was time they all knew it.

“I told you to leave me alone,” she said, keeping her eyes on the crashing waves at the shoreline.

“You know I can’t,” Quentin said.

Phoebe closed her eyes, and her heart raced.

“You should,” she said. “Playing this song and dance with you doesn’t work for me, Quentin. I’ve never been one to play around, so you really should just leave me alone.”

With her eyes evading him, Phoebe sucked in a breath when a cloud of warmth hovered over her. She knew he was standing behind her, but she wasn’t prepared for his touch. Again, her eyes shut when his hands tread across her shoulders. Her body betrayed her, instantly rising with arousal. His arms followed, engulfing her in the sanctuary of his chest. His lips dropped down to her ear, and his warm breath toasted her against the cool sailing winds.

Phoebe tried to gain her strength. “You may want to be careful touching me. I’d hate for someone to see you.”

Quentin turned her to face him. “They only want what’s best for you,” he said. “I only want what’s good for you, too.”

Phoebe’s smile was cynical. “I guess this is the part where you tell me, you’re no good for me, right?”

Quentin pushed out another breath. “You have to understand, Phoebe, your brothers and I have been through a lot together. I will never be good enough for you in their eyes.”

“But you would be good enough for the girl at the bar, right?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s different when it’s your sister, mother, or daughter.”

“You know what I don’t get, Quentin? Even with everything you guys have been through, my brothers should know your heart. Do they honestly think you would ever hurt me?”

Quentin didn’t speak, but he soaked in her words carefully.

“Would you, Quentin?”

“Hell no.”

Phoebe turned her head and looked back down the path she’d walked. The silence stretched again, and only the ocean waves could be heard.

“Do you even want me?”

Quentin’s gut constricted.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he responded.

Phoebe brought her eyes back to him.

“Do you?”

His lids lowered. “More than anything,” his dark voice grooved.

Phoebe shivered, and she didn’t think it was because of the chill of the night.

“Then what do you plan to do about it?”

It was a standoff, with both of them tackling their own thoughts. Quentin moved first. His hand reached for her chin and his mouth covered hers. An electrifying current buzzed through them both, and they roasted right where they stood. Quentin’s free hand slipped up her shoulders and neck, settling in the back of her hair. Pulling her head slightly back, Quentin stared at her while breathing into her lips.

Phoebe loved the yearning she saw in his eyes—if only he would act on it and let go of this ridiculous vow he’d made with her brothers.

“You don’t know what you do to me…” he said.

“That’s funny, I could say the same about you.”

Phoebe stuck her tongue out and licked his lips. Quentin shut his eyes briefly then inhaled her, sucking her tantalizing tongue down his throat. A burst of heat ran through them, and Phoebe quickly tossed her arms around his neck. Quentin picked her up, and her legs coiled around his waist as their bodies burned together. Kissing from her lips down her neck, Quentin sucked in Phoebe’s warm skin then sank his teeth into her soft flesh.

“Ssss… aaah, baby…” Phoebe moaned with her head hanging back. “Don’t do this to me,” she panted.

Quentin pulled his gaze to hers.

“Don’t do this to me if you don’t plan to finish,” she said.

They stared at one another with desire spilling between them. After too long of a minute, Quentin finally spoke.

“We can’t do this now.”

“It’s now or never.”

“You can’t do that.”

Phoebe untangled herself from him and plopped down to her feet. She turned to walk back up the beach.

“Phoebe.”

Her feet paused, and she waited for him to declare his love for her. She waited for him to tell her he’d wanted her for just as long as she’d wanted him. Phoebe waited as the wind whipped around her, for Quentin to give her some sign that they could be together. That all their teasing when they were young, and all his protectiveness as they got older was all boiling down to this moment in time when they could finally confess their love. Phoebe’s heart knocked in her chest, and her nerves stood on pins and needles.

But his silence was golden, giving her all the answers she didn’t want. Phoebe locked and unlocked her jaw. How much time had she spent daydreaming and fantasizing that the one guy she’d always loved would love her back?

Without saying a word, she resumed her trek back down the beach with the silence behind her becoming infinite.

Chapter Four

Chicago, IL

Cook County Department of Corrections

“We were hired by your brother DeAngelo to help you. I know there aren’t many people you trust, but you should trust us.”

“How do you know who I trust?” the inmate said.

“Your brother gave me an overview. Let me ask you a question. Do you trust DeAngelo?” Phoebe asked.

“He’s about the only one, I trust.”

“That in itself should let you know you can trust us also. Now the fact remains, Melissa if you don’t give me an alibi, the prosecutor will nail you for this crime. They’re trying to give you sixty years.”

Melissa’s eyes stretched. “Damn, I didn’t kill nobody!”

“The sad truth is even some killers don’t get sixty years. But they’re trying to throw the book at you because you wouldn’t cooperate with them. They assumed you would have an appointed attorney instead of a team of lawyers that were going to look after you.”

Melissa rubbed her chin. “Look after me, huh.” Her eyes floated from Phoebe to Jordan, Sylvester Crosby, and Samantha Blake.

They all stood behind Phoebe, who sat in a chair across the table from Melissa Weatherby, a woman indicted on charges of hiding a known terrorist.

“It wasn’t even like what they’re making it out to be,” Melissa said. “What would you have done? He’s my father. I didn’t know he was wanted on suspicion of helping ISIS or anyone else.”

“That may be true, but none of that matters in a court of law. We need to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that you had no clue he was in anything. And the day he set that bomb off on the New York subway, we need to know you weren’t there helping him. Because he was living with you and left a trail of evidence in your home that he was creating bombs.”

“The house was in my name.” She sighed. “I didn’t even live there, I…”

Phoebe waited for her to finish. When Melissa didn’t, Phoebe pushed her.

“You… what?”

“I live with my wife,” she said.

They all waited for her to finish as Melissa gauged them for a reaction.

“Okay, what’s your wife’s name?”

“Tammy, but this investigation is in the news, so bringing her in as my alibi would put her in the spotlight, right?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Phoebe responded.

Melissa shook her head. “I can’t do that to her. We have kids. I’ve already lost my job and my name. No one will ever hire me or her if she’s brought into this.”

Phoebe nodded. “I understand, but just so we’re clear if you don’t have an alibi, it’s going to be ten times harder for us to prove your innocence, and the possibility that you could do hard time is real.”

Melissa thought over what Phoebe said.

“How much?” she asked.

Phoebe glanced up at Jordan then back to Melissa. “Excuse me?”

“How much is my brother paying you?”

“Ms. Crosby, we only discuss our fees with the person who hires us.”

“That just means you cost a whole helluva lot,” Melissa confirmed. “I’ve seen you on the news. You and him more than anyone at your firm,” she said, speaking in reference to Jordan. “I know you’re the best. So do what my brother hired you to do and get me out of here.”

The team of attorneys stared at Melissa before Jordan flipped his wrist and checked his Rolex. Strolling to the metal door, he gave a swift three-knuckle knock, and seconds later, the door buzzed then opened. The guards walked inside straight for Melissa. They stood her up and re-cuffed her wrists before coaching her out of the room. Behind them, the lawyers strutted out, making a left turn while Melissa was taken down a different corridor.

“Get me out!” Melissa shouted just as they disappeared around the corner. The attorneys passed through the double doors, and Phoebe covered her face with Christian Dior shades.

“Get me out; she says,” Phoebe mocked with a shake of her head. “Here she is, with a solid alibi and she won’t use it. Why is it that everyone thinks we can perform miracles?”

Jordan smirked. “Because we can,” he said with so much confidence Phoebe almost believed him. Usually she went into a case with the utmost certainty that she could come out with a win. After all, they say attitude is everything when it comes to what you want and believe. But this case was different. They would have to pull out all the stops to keep Melissa from going to a prison where they could possibly bury her and throw away the key.

“No sleep for the next few months, huh?”

Phoebe and Jordan climbed into his car, and she buckled her belt.

“We’ll pull all of the first-year associates on the case and get them to do some digging,” Jordan said.

“We may need a few of the interns to help out on this one, too,” Phoebe said.

Jordan nodded and looked out the window. “Aye yo, sis, you know I didn’t mean anything by what I said back on the beach.”

Phoebe sighed. It wasn’t something she cared to discuss. “Let’s just focus on the case,” she said, needing desperately to keep her mind on anything but Quentin.

“You know I sent Quentin after you thinking he could calm you down, but when you returned you seemed even more frustrated,” he said. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Phoebe turned to look at him, and Jordan glanced over at her. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“No, you said let’s just focus on the case, but I just want to make sure you’re okay. I’ve never seen you flip out like that even during your so-called angry times. You tossed beer on me and then threw the bottle at my head.”

Phoebe twisted her lips and rolled her eyes, swooping her hair back off her shoulders. “I did not throw a bottle at you.”

“Lies,” he said. “I thought lawyers were supposed to tell the truth.”

Phoebe smirked and waved him off. “I didn’t,” she murmured, “if I did, trust me, you would’ve been hit.”

“So cold,” he said, and she smiled.

“What’s cold is having you and Jonathon and everyone else breathing down my throat all the time.”

“Hey, we do that to Eden and Jasmine, too.”

“That’s beside the point. I’m a grown woman. You’ve slept with women my age.”

“Whoa!” Jordan said, “Calm down. You’re taking this too far. I understand your reference.”

Phoebe shrugged. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Damn, if that’s your way of trying to get me to shut up, you win.”

“I told you I have a killer success rate.” Her mouth opened with a bright smile, and she stuck her tongue out.

“Touché.” Jordan became quiet. “Seriously, Phoebe, I get it,” he said. “Seeing you flip out like that worried me.”

Phoebe quirked a brow up at him.

“I’m not joking. From here on out, I swear not to pester you about being a child. You’re right, you’ve been old enough to make your own decision about love and life in general. So if you ever need to talk, you know, about anything, I’m here for you.”

Phoebe stared at Jordan as he drove. Was he actually telling her he would lay off from dipping into her love life or lack thereof? To test it out, she prompted.

“Are you saying if I get a boyfriend, you won’t run a background check and pull him in a stairwell to interrogate him?”

Jordan cut his eyes at her. “I didn’t say all that.”

Phoebe folded her arms. “Are you serious?”

Jordan chuckled. “I won’t pull him in a stairwell, but I’m running his background.”

Phoebe shook her head. “Lord have mercy. It’s times like this I wish Mom were alive so I could tell her how ridiculous you guys are being.”

At the mention of their late mother, the pair quieted.

“You can always tell Dad,” he said.

“Ha! Is that supposed to be a joke? He’s as bad as you guys, if not worse!”

Jordan rubbed his chin. “Yeah, I see your point.”

Phoebe tossed her hands up. “If you really mean what you say, you’ll lay off.”

“Who is he?” he asked straight out.

Phoebe hesitated. “I didn’t say there was someone specific. I’m just pointing out that in the event I do decide to get a life, I want you to stay out of it.”

“So it’s like that?” At Phoebe’s questionable stare, Jordan said, “You’re not going to tell me who it is?”

“Right now, I don’t know myself,” she said sourly.

“Well, when you find out, I want to be the first to know, just promise me that.”

Phoebe sighed. “Fine, now can we drop this?”

“One more question.”

“What?” she said, annoyed.

“What was all that business about you can screw anybody you want. You know you almost gave Norma a heart attack with that kind of talk.”

Phoebe burst into laughter. “Shut up, no I didn’t.”

“You didn’t see her clutch her pearls.” His baritone voice chuckled.

Phoebe bent over laughing.

“I thought Dad was going to have one, too.” Jordan imitated their father puffing out his chest and squinting as he looked from side to side. “Somebody tell me what’s going on,” he imitated.

Phoebe laughed harder.

“You think it’s us you have to worry about, but really it’s Pops. He’s locked and loaded, ready to bust a cap in somebody’s ass.”

Phoebe roared and tears spilled out the corners of her eyes. “You get on my nerves. My father does not sound like that.”

“Shit,” Jordan said, “he did that night.”

They pulled into the parking garage of Rose and Garnett LLC, parking in Jordan’s assigned spot. The attorneys who accompanied them pulled in their designated spaces, and they all got out and strolled in like the Men in Black. Standing at the bank of elevators, Jordan reached out and hit the button. It lit up at the same time Phoebe’s phone rang.

The smooth melody of Tank chorused from her briefcase. Jordan glanced over at her with a rising brow.

“Is that the guy you don’t know if you’re dating yet?” he asked.

She should’ve been brave enough to pull out her phone and test this new promise that Jordan had made. But she thought twice about it. Sure, Jordan said he would lay off, but when he found out she was in love with Quentin, Phoebe had a feeling he would change his mind.

A part of her wanted to straight out tell him. But again she hesitated. The doors to the elevator opened, and they entered at the same time a message came through her phone.

“You might want to check that,” Jordan said. “Could be an emergency.” He shrugged.

“Drop it, Jordan.”

Jordan raised his hands in surrender. “Consider it dropped.”

Chapter Five

The wind whipped against Quentin’s face as he picked up his agility with increasing speed. The frosty temperature should’ve kept Quentin inside his gym, doing jump aerobics or lifting weights. But those exercises wouldn’t suffice with the adrenaline he required now. It was something only the rush of an accelerated sprint would do, and because of that, Quentin flew in a blur down the winding park pathway.

Quentin had taken a red-eye flight back from Nicaragua, and his contact with Phoebe was nonexistent. Before she walked away from him on the beach, her words had been now or never. But her demands were unreasonable. It was no easier on him than it was on her. And now, Quentin presumed she’d stop communicating with him altogether. All of his text messages had gone unresponsive, and his phone calls ignored. Quentin had never called a woman so much in his life, and it bothered him to shame that he did now. Quentin wasn’t interested in wallowing about it. He’d come to terms long ago that Phoebe owned him; so why then was it so hard for him to have the conversation with his friends.

They were essentially family, and people changed every day. They could give him the benefit of the doubt. But it’s their sister. Quentin’s speed increased, and he ran to clear his mind of the heavy thoughts, but they were unyielding, determined to distract him at all costs. His mind was far away when Quentin stepped into the street without looking.

A horned blared, and Quentin jumped back just as the car that threatened to take him out eased to a stop at his side. The driver’s door opened, and a brunette stepped out and turned to him on the heel of her boots.

“Oh my God!” she said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I apologize for stepping in the street, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” He offered her a languid smile. “Forgive me.”

The brunette smiled softly. “You’re forgiven.” Her smile held. “I’m Amber.”

Amber reached out to him for a handshake, and Quentin accepted it.

“I know you’ve had better days, Amber. I’m Q.”

“Well it’s not every day that I almost run over a gorgeous guy.” She blushed. “It’s a good thing you have good reflexes.”

Quentin nodded. “True that.”

Amber pulled a piece of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I buy you a cup of coffee or something? I feel bad for almost running you over.”

“That’s not necessary. It was my fault.”

With an air of boldness, Amber said, “I’d still like to buy you a cup of coffee. We’ll call it a thank you for jumping out of my way cup of coffee.”

Quentin chuckled as Amber laughed.

“Sure,” he said, “why not. There’s a coffee shop across the street.”

“I’ll just pull my car off the road,” she said, turning to reclaim her seat.

Quentin took another step back and watched as Amber pulled the old school vehicle over to park at a meter. The shine on the classic car’s exterior sparkled in the sunlight, and being a collector of conventional vehicles, Quentin found himself having an appreciation for the vintage automobile.

Amber stepped out of the car at the same time Quentin approached her door.

“Be careful crossing this street,” he said. “I think some of these drivers stay angry, and they might not be as forgiving as you.”

Amber’s smile grew. “If anything, they’ll run me over for blocking traffic.”

Quentin chuckled. “True that.”

They made it to the other side without so much as a scratch.

“Ah ha, see that,” Amber said. “I guess today’s my lucky day.”

Quentin nodded. “So it would seem. How about this window seat?” he said, motioning to the far-right corner.

“Yeah, that works.”

Amber strutted toward the table, and it was the first time Quentin took a real look at her. She was draped in a double-breasted coat, and the pants she wore put him in the mind of a certain attorney he knew. Just like that, his thoughts traveled back to Phoebe. It was beginning to become his vice.

They sat down at the table, and Amber removed her coat. A server approached with a notepad and pen in hand.

“Good morning, I’m Daphne, I’ll be your waitress today, what can I start you off with?”

“Hi Daphne, I’m Amber and this is Quentin, we both would like a cup of coffee, black, with two sugars,” she finished.

Quentin’s eyes stretched in surprise.

“Anything else?” Daphne asked.

“No, thank you,” Amber said.

Daphne strolled away from the table with an extra pep in her step.

Quentin cleared his throat. “I was unaware that you knew who I was, Amber.”

Amber turned her head to the side in thought. “You didn’t tell me your name when we were outside?”

“I’m sure I said my name was Q.”

Amber tossed her hands up. “You got me; you have a popular face, Mr. Davidson. You shouldn’t be so surprised when people know who you are.”

Something about Amber was off. Quentin was regretting this cup of coffee.

“You told the server how I take my coffee,” he pointed out.

Amber nodded slowly. “Yeah… I did.” She dipped her head in her shoulders, feeling embarrassed. “You’re feeling creeped out, aren’t you?”

Quentin didn’t lie. “Just a little bit.”

“Oh my God,” Amber said. “Okay, so it’s not what you think. I read an interview you did in Men’s Health magazine this year. You talked about everything from your upbringing to how you became the fitness guru that you are. You even talked about how you like your coffee.” Amber smiled sheepishly again. “You can run now if you’re feeling the need to. I’d understand.”

The server bounced back over with coffee for them both, and Quentin pulled out his American Express and offered it over to the clerk.

“I’ll be right back with your receipt,” she said, bouncing away.

“I was going to pay for that,” Amber said. “I was the one who asked if I could buy you a cup of coffee.”

Quentin pulled the mug to his lips and blew softly before responding. “I don’t mind.” He glanced out the window and motioned to the vehicle. “That’s a nice classic. A 1967 Shelby 427 Cobra Roadster.”

Amber perked up. “And you have a love for old school cars, that’s right,” she said.

Quentin thought back to that interview. The information he’d revealed seemed harmless enough. But Amber had a way of bringing to light why disclosing information was important to remember.

“You have an excellent memory, Amber.”

Amber beamed. “That’s a good thing.”

Quentin nodded. “True that. You have me at a disadvantage.”

“How so?”

“You know things about me, but I know nothing about you.”

Amber gave a sly smile. “Well, what would you like to know?”

Quentin took another sip of his coffee.

“Why don’t you tell me how you ended up with that beauty out there,” he said, pointing to the Cobra Roadster.

Amber lit up with glee and went into a full conversation about the car’s original leather interior and 4-speed transmission. Quentin could barely focus on her words when his thoughts traveled back to Phoebe. Like a main attraction, his mind sought images of her deep brown smooth skin and the dark areolas that puckered her breasts. His tongue moved from one corner of his mouth to the other as images from their passionate kisses to the way she jumped into his arms after she’d searched him out slid through his mind.

Phoebe affected him with such a throbbing force that he’d almost indulged in the most precious part of her. Had they moved forward, Quentin would’ve buried himself, completely immersed and all of the built-up emotion he’d held back over the years would’ve exploded in the course of their lovemaking. However, the admission of Phoebe’s virginity had stopped him cold and left him discombobulated, to say the least. It added an extra layer of difficulty on him because as much as he wanted her, Quentin didn’t know if he could entirely trust himself when it came to matters of the heart. Phoebe wasn’t a one-night stand. Nor could she ever be someone he played around with for a while until he had his fill. Phoebe was a trophy, the kind you kept polished and revered with a tender appreciation. She was a one of a kind, like a classic you kept in pristine condition.

It was then that Quentin knew the real reasons for his hesitation. Sure he respected his friends’ wishes and wanted to stay clear of their sister, but honestly, in the back of Quentin’s mind, he had to wonder if their reservations were reasonable.

Amber chirped for about thirty minutes before Quentin glanced down at his wristwatch.

“Oh, I’m sure you have someplace you need to be as important as you are,” she said.

“Actually, I have a meeting in an hour and have lingered longer than I should’ve. Thank you for the coffee, Amber,” he said, rising from his seat.

Amber stood at the same time. “I should be the one thanking you. I didn’t pay for the coffee, remember?”

Quentin tilted his head in silent agreement. Amber pulled a ten-dollar bill from her change purse.

“How about I leave the tip?” she said, tossing the bill down.

They strolled away from the table, and the doorbell chimed as they exited. “You paid more for the tip than I paid for the coffee,” he said.

Amber shrugged. “I know you’re a millionaire an all, but I can’t let you show me out.” She laughed, paying no mind to her footing as she stepped off the sidewalk backwards and continued to speak to him cheerfully. A Volkswagen shot down the street seconds away from running her over. Instead of calling out her name, Quentin moved quickly to pull her back but wasn’t faster than the speeding vehicle.

“Aaaah!” Amber squealed as Quentin shoved her out from in front of the oncoming collision. There was only a second to spare before the impact with the sailing automobile. It hit him at the waist, and his body rolled up the front, smashing hard against the windshield.

“Oh my God!” Amber shouted, rising to her feet to run over to Quentin. The horn inside the Volkswagen blasted as the driver’s face rested on the steering wheel. Neither the driver nor Quentin moved as everything around them stopped, and any nearby pedestrians called the police. Amber called out to Quentin, but he was none the wiser as he was out cold.

Chapter Six

The nurses a Mercy Hospital shuffled in and out of Quentin’s room every thirty minutes. It was as if they needed to check vital signs around the clock. Phoebe sat in a chair on the side of his bed watching him sleep. From the looks of his restful slumber and solid physique, you couldn’t tell he had slightly bruised ribs.

She traced his dark brown features, strong nose, smooth skin, and thick brows. The groomed hair around his mouth connected with his close-cropped beard, and his locks were pulled back off his carved structural face. Phoebe had been in her office poring over mountains of paperwork when Jordan had walked in suddenly with alarm written all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” she’d asked, instantly clutching the paper in her hand.

“It’s Quentin, he’s been in an accident.”

It was all she’d needed to hear. Phoebe’s heart had dropped, and she stood quickly and grabbed her coat, leaving her phone, purse, and shoes sitting by the desk.

“You should at least put some shoes on,” Jordan said.

Phoebe glanced down then around the room mechanically, then robotically walked back to her shoes to claim them. From there she’d followed him to the elevator, but it wouldn’t come fast enough so she evaded her spot for the stairs.

“Phoebe!” Jordan had called after her. But she kept moving with her mind in a fog at what could’ve happened to him. Jordan had caught up with her, but Phoebe’s feet never stop running.

“I’m driving,” Jordan said, noticing his sister’s visibly shaken demeanor. He coached her to the car, and although she’d asked him questions about the accident, she numbly stared off into space until their arrival at the hospital.

Phoebe turned to the TV that hung on the wall then back to him. She’d been there an hour, and he’d slept soundly ever since. She reached out to him and squeezed his hand. Phoebe needed to know that he was okay. He looked fine, great actually for someone who’d been hit by a car, but not hearing it from his voice made Phoebe’s chest tightened, and now Phoebe wished she had answered his phone calls.

What if he didn’t make it? God forbid, what if he died? Phoebe’s eyes watered, and the squeezing in her throat made her clasp his hand again. When his eyes fluttered open, Phoebe held her breath and spoke.

“Quentin?”

His long lashes fluttered again, and a deep whisper strummed from his voice, “Hey, baby girl.”

Phoebe exhaled a long breath, and her head fell onto the edge of his bed. Quentin glanced around the room, then squinted and stretched his eyes.

“We’re in the hospital.”

It wasn’t a question, just his solid observation. Phoebe glanced up at him, and Quentin’s brows knocked together in a frown.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

Phoebe held on to his hand while dabbing at her eyes with the back of her other hand.

“You have no idea, do you?”

Quentin looked around again then sat forward.

“Wait!” Phoebe said, standing to stop him from moving. Quentin peered up at her.

“Why am I in the hospital? And Why does— aah!” he said, biting down on his teeth. “What…?” Quentin thought over the last thing he remembered.

The coffee shop, Amber, the Volkswagen.

“Please lay back down,” Phoebe said.

Quentin sat back against the hospital mattress just as the door swung open, and Amber traipsed through the door. Her eyes widened upon seeing Quentin awake, and her hands flew to her mouth.

“Quentin…” she whispered sharply, muffling her voice with the cover of her hand. Amber walked over to stand on the other side of his bed. Phoebe’s brow rose just as Amber noticed her holding his hand. “Um, I’m sorry,” Amber said. “I didn’t mean to barge in like that. I’m just so glad to see you up. Jesus Christ, what are you Clark Kent?”

“Phoebe, this is Amber. Amber, this is Phoebe,” he said, making the introductions as fast as possible.

“Hi.” Amber stuck her hand out to shake Phoebe’s.

“How are you?” Phoebe returned her gesture then pulled her focus back to Quentin. “You scared me to death,” she said. “I could kick your ass.”

Quentin cocked his head to the side. “You were just sitting there crying now you’re cursing me out?”

“Damn right,” she said. “What were you thinking running into the street like that? You could’ve been killed!”

Quentin’s gaze softened. “Is that what you were worried about?”

Phoebe bit down on her teeth then pursed her lips.

“What is wrong with you?” she repeated.

“If I may,” Amber said, cutting in, “it was my fault.” Amber looked at Quentin. “This time it was me not watching where I was going. I must be bad luck.”

“Then why are you still here?” Phoebe snapped.

Both Quentin and Amber looked at Phoebe with wide eyes.

“I’m… um, you’re right, I should leave.” Amber took her attention back to Quentin. “Quentin, I’m so sorry again, please send me your medical bills, and I’d be glad to pay them.”

“That’s not necessary,” Quentin said, finally turning to Amber.

Amber nodded profusely. “In that case, I’ll take a hike.” Amber moved to the door and disappeared quickly.

Taking his gaze back to Phoebe, a slow drugging smile spread across his face. “You know it turns me on when you pop off like that.”

Phoebe gave him an evil eye, peering down at him with her brow stretched out.

“That does, too,” he said. “Is this what it takes for me to get your attention? I’ve got to get hit by a car?”

“Or dropped out of a plane,” Phoebe joked with a straight face.

Quentin laughed and moved quickly. A shot of excruciating pain ran through his abdomen. “Arrgh!” he growled.

“Be careful!” Phoebe said, reaching out to hold him steady. “My goodness, why are you going around trying to be Superman?”

“If I hadn’t shoved her, she would be dead,” he said plainly.

Phoebe huffed. “You could be dead. Who is she, do you know her?”

“Not really?” he said.

“What does that even mean?”

“She’s a fan,” he said, “and she was talking my head off when she stepped into traffic.”

The door opened, and a doctor trailed through.

“Mr. Davidson, I’m Doctor Bradshaw, how are you feeling?”

“Like a gladiator,” Quentin said.

Dr. Bradshaw smirked. “You’re built like one, too.”

Quentin glanced at Phoebe standing beside him with pursed lips, and he winked.

“Please don’t stroke his ego, Doctor,” she said.

“It’s true, any normal person would be in the hospital a few days after an accident like that. But miraculously, you’ve just got a little bruising. Nothing a day or two at home couldn’t heal. Just take your time getting around. It may be nice for you to hire some help if you don’t already have some.”

“So am I free to go, Doctor?”

“Not just yet. We’ll let you sit for a while then come back and check up on you. At that time, if you’re doing fine, we’ll consider letting you go.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Phoebe said.

Dr. Bradshaw nodded. “Get some rest,” he said, leaving the way he’d come.

Quentin pulled his shirt up and glanced down at his bruised abdomen.

“Oh my God,” Phoebe said, bracing from the darkness of it.

“It’s not that bad,” Quentin said. “It’s just a small bruise; you worry too much. I’ll be good.”

Phoebe wasn’t so sure.

“Thank you for coming to check on me,” he said.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I never want anything to happen to you.”

They stared at one another.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

Phoebe sat slowly, dropping her weight in the chair she’d previously occupied.

“Because I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to accept a phone call from me?”

“Was it an emergency?”

Quentin considered her for a long time before Phoebe couldn’t take any more of his heated gaze.

“What?” she said.

“What do you want from me, Phoebe?”

Phoebe dropped her mouth open to speak, but nothing came out. She considered his question while he waited for an honest answer.

“Nothing,” she said finally.

“Now that’s not fair,” he said.

“What isn’t?”

“Telling lies right to my face.”

Phoebe sighed.

“I may not be able to give you what you want,” he said.

Phoebe rose from her seat. She didn’t want to hear this same rhetoric.

“But, I’m willing to try.”

She turned to him. “What?”

This time Quentin let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not perfect, Phoebe Alexandria Rose, not like you. My flaws run deeper than you know, and I’m not sure being with me is what you need, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try it out, if you’re willing to risk it.”

He pulled his lips between his teeth.

“Nobody’s perfect,” she said, “not even me. But I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“See, there you go, putting words in my mouth.”

“I’m not, I’m just merely stating facts.”

“Because you’re a fact checker?”

“You know it.”

Quentin chuckled and reached out for her hand. Their fingers mixed, bringing their palms together. The door to his room opened, and Jordan walked inside. He looked from Quentin to Phoebe, then to the connection of their hands. Slowly, his eyes crept back over to Quentin.

“I guess you’re feeling better,” he said a bit frosty. “Phoebe, do you mind if I holla at my boy for a minute?”

Phoebe cut her eyes at Jordan. “As long as it has nothing to do with my business,” she said.

Jordan glanced from her to Quentin.

“Your business, huh?”

“Jordan…” Phoebe said, biting down on her teeth.

“Phoebe,” Quentin called. She looked at him with a frown. “Give us a minute.”

Phoebe hesitated, and she tensed. She was going to murder Jordan if he thought about mentioning them holding hands.

Without another word, she walked around the bed and left the room.

Jordan walked up on Quentin. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

Chapter Seven

Quentin and Jordan were in a hostile stare down.

“You better start talking,” Jordan said.

“Do you think I would do anything to hurt her?”

“Oh man, don’t give me that shit!” Jordan paced the length of the room. “I can’t believe this.”

“Would you calm down?” Quentin said.

“Calm down!” Jordan stuck a finger out at Quentin. “We agreed, family is off limits. You don’t see me trying to date your sister. We agreed!”

“My sister is married,” Quentin said.

“That’s beside the point!”

“Look, I didn’t set out to date your sister,” Quentin said.

“Then how the hell did you end up doing it? I swear to God, Q, you better not be…” Jordan’s words evaporated, but Quentin knew what he meant.

“I haven’t touched her,” Quentin confirmed.

Jordan seemed to breathe easy.

“Not in the way you think.”

Heat suffused Jordan’s cheeks, but Quentin quickly surrendered his hands. “I kissed her,” he said.

Jordan closed his eyes. “And what else,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“We haven’t had sex if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“This is some bullshit. This shouldn’t even be a conversation I’m having with you, of all people! You are practically her brother! You watched her grow up!”

“You say that like we didn’t grow up together. She’s grown. We’re not that much older than her.”

“You’re fucking serious,” Jordan said. “We agreed.”

“What are you so worried about?” Quentin asked.

“Don’t go there, man, just don’t do it,” Jordan said. “Jonathon is going to lose his shit.”

“I’ll tell Jonathon the same thing.”

“Which is what?”

“I want to date Phoebe, brother. I’m going to,” he stated.

The men had another intense stare down.

“You’re going to,” Jordan said.

“I’d rather have your blessing first,” Quentin assured.

“You don’t,” Jordan said sharply. “So now what?”

Quentin hadn’t wanted it to come down to this. Having to choose between dating Phoebe and sticking with his agreement to his friends was like shooting knives.

“I won’t have sex with her. Not unless I marry her.”

Jordan’s eyes widened. “Marriage?”

Quentin nodded. Jordan felt like he was in an alternate universe talking to another dude name Quentin. Jordan considered walking out the room and dragging Phoebe off down the hall. She would be mad, fighting and cursing him to hell, but she would thank him later for saving her from what would inevitably become a devastating heartbreak. Jordan had seen the women break down over Quentin; some would hold on to his ankle as he casually stepped over them, and there was no way he would let Phoebe put herself in that line of fire.

On the other hand, he’d seen the way she’d blanked out after finding out about Quentin’s accident. He talked to her the whole ride to the hospital, and she hadn’t responded to him besides asking how close they were. It made him wonder how long they’d been seeing each other, and it pissed him off even more.

“I’m not telling Jonathon about this,” Jordan said. “You’re telling him yourself.”

“I didn’t expect you to tell him,” Quentin responded.

“Good because I don’t want to be around when he knocks some sense into you.”

“I know why you’re responding this way. But you know me, man.”

“Yeah, that’s right, I know you!” Jordan pointed at Quentin with his jaw locked. Jordan shook his head once and let out a frustrated breath as he pivoted on his heels. He strolled to the door with one last warning for Quentin. “If you hurt her…”

“Understood,” Quentin said.

Jordan left the room, and no sooner than he did, Jordan met Phoebe in the hall. She stood against the wall with her arms crossed and a thundering headache that had suddenly come on.

Jordan swept his trench coat back, placing his hands on his hips.

“Why him?”

Phoebe licked her lips and pulled them between her teeth. “Why does it matter? Would it be that different if it were someone else?”

“Yes, it would.”

Phoebe dropped her arms. “I don’t understand. You would trust him with your life, but not with me?”

Jordan dropped his head and sighed. “It’s not the same.” Jordan looked back at her.

“That’s the same thing he said,” she pointed out.

“He’s telling the truth. I trust him with my life because he’s my brother. I don’t trust him with you because he’s not that guy, Phoebe.”

Phoebe stared at her brother, and her throat tightened.

“Don’t fall in love with him,” Jordan said. “If you have to…” his words trailed, “date him, do it and get it out of your system. But don’t fall in love with him. Promise me.”

They stared each other down, Phoebe wondering if this was happening and Jordan hoping beyond hope that she heeded his advice. Turning her gaze away from him, Phoebe looked down the hallway at the passing food cart that stopped by room to room.

“Phoebe,” Jordan said.

“You’re wrong,” she said, keeping her eyes down the hall.

“I’m not.”

Silence lingered between them, and finally, Phoebe turned back.

“You’re wrong,” she said, “and I’m going to prove it.”

“Phoebe…”

“You said you would stay out of my business. You just made that promise today. Are you planning to take that back?”

“That’s not fair. I know this man. I’m only trying to look out for you.”

“And how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t need you looking out for me?”

“What happens when he breaks your heart?”

“He won’t.”

Jordan’s brows stretched. “You sound certain,” he said, trying not to show his frustration.

“I am. You trust him with my life, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Okay then.”

“You’re confusing things, Phoebe. Trusting him with your life is not the same as trusting him with your heart.”

“You’re just going to keep saying that?” she said.

“Yes. Until I can drill some sense into your head.”

“You need to understand something, Jordan. Not you, Jonathon, Jacob, Jonas, Jaden, Josiah, or Julian can stop me from seeing who I want. If you don’t trust your own best friend with me, fine. That’s your prerogative, but don’t tell me who to see.”

“I just—”

“I know, okay, you’re just trying to look out for me. But if you’re really up for teaching me a lesson then let the chips fall where they may. If it doesn’t work out, it won’t change anything between you two.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

“It’s on you,” she said, leaving Jordan standing in the hallway.

When Phoebe glided back into the room, Quentin was sitting on the side of the bed, trying to put his coat on. She ran to his side.

“What are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself even more.”

Quentin reached up and tugged her nose. “What are you talking about, girl, don’t you know by now I’m made of steel.”

She smiled. “Don’t let that Superman thing go to your head.”

Quentin chuckled. “Do you mind if I use your phone? I didn’t have mine on me at the time of the accident, so I’m sure it’s still back in my car over on Melrose.”

“Sure,” she said, “when the doctor releases you, I can take you over to get it if you want.”

She handed him her cell.

“Thank you,” he said.

He dialed a number and waited a beat before speaking. “Cindy, I need you to meet me at my place. I need a favor.”

He listened on the line for his personal assistant’s response and smirked. “It’s a big favor,” he responded. “I’ve been in an accident, and I’ll need you around the house for a day or two.”

Phoebe reached for her phone, taking it out of Quentin’s hand.

“I wasn’t done with that,” he said reaching out for the receiver.

Phoebe placed the phone to her ear. “Hey Cindy, this is Phoebe.” She paused. “Yeah, listen, ignore what Quentin just said, I’m going to stay over and help him out for a few days.”

Surprised, Quentin reached for Phoebe, pulling her between his legs. She nuzzled between them with her back turned and the phone to her ear as she listened to Cindy’s response.

“No, he’s sitting right here, so you won’t get in trouble, I promise, isn’t that right, Quentin?” Phoebe turned to Quentin just as he began nibbling on the back of her neck.

Phoebe shut her eyes and quivered as a wave of heat covered her skin. Removing the phone from her hand, Quentin spoke into the receiver while keeping his eyes on Phoebe.

“Cindy, continue what you were doing, I’ll call you back.” He disconnected the call and handed Phoebe back her phone.

“What do you think you’re doing, ladybug?” he asked.

“Why would you need Cindy there when you’ve got me?”

His gaze fell to her luscious lips. “I didn’t know I had you.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m not.” Quentin paused before responding, “Are we officially dating?”

Phoebe stuffed her cell inside her coat pocket. “You tell me, Quentin. What do you want to happen between us?”

Their gazes held as his fingers fiddled with the sides of her waist before sinking into her hips and pulling her closer. So close they were nose to nose.

“Let’s take things slow. We know a lot about each other, but there are some things we could learn. I want to take you out on an official date.”

Phoebe smiled warmly.

“But, I need to speak to Jonathon first.”

Phoebe’s smile quickly dropped and she rolled her eyes. “For the love of God,” she fumed.

“Baby girl, this has nothing to do with me treating you like a child and everything to do with my respect for your brothers. I need them to know about this and also to know that I respect you, and I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Phoebe shook her head. She knew Jonathon, and he was bolder when it came to her, Eden, and Jasmine. Her other brothers were bad, but Jonathon was worse.

“What happens when he doesn’t agree?”

Quentin had thought about that the entire time Phoebe was in the hall arguing with Jordan.

“Then I’ll just have to show him,” he said, tugging her nose again.

A half smile turned into a pout on Phoebe’s lips, and Quentin leaned in to kiss them. The warmth from his mouth coiled around her heart, making her feel like mush. She sank into his kiss, starting a fire that would have to be put out by the hospital’s staff.

“In the meantime,” Quentin said between kisses, “it’s probably best that Cindy stay over to help me.”

Phoebe jerked back. “So, you are basically waiting for my brother’s approval?”

“Not necessarily. I just want them to know before I have you over. It would be like me asking you to marry me without speaking to your father first. Even if I didn’t get his blessing, I would have done the honorable thing first.”

Phoebe let out a heavy sigh. “Fine.” But she didn’t feel fine. Already, she had doubts about another woman in Quentin’s home. How could she not with all of the things Jordan had said.

“I have a court case that I need to prepare for.” She was spaced out when she said it.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“It may be the case that makes or breaks my career,” she responded.

Quentin arched a brow. “That bad?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

“Always.” He pulled her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. “There’s somewhere I want you to go with me.”

Phoebe perked up. “Oh yeah?” She fiddled with the column of his throat, and when Quentin spoke his voice was thick and gruff.

“Yeah,” he responded. “Let’s get out of here first, and I’ll tell you all about it.” Quentin resumed putting on his coat.

“Hold on; you can’t just leave. The doctor said you should wait a while until you’re released.”

Just then the door swung open, and Dr. Bradshaw walked in. Quentin smirked and glanced at Phoebe with a slow approving nod of his head.

“There you go,” he said.

Phoebe grinned. “You think you know it all, don’t you?”

“Nah, you think I know it all.”

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” Dr. Bradshaw said. “Let me have another look at you before you hightail it out of here.”

Phoebe stood back while the doctor assessed Quentin’s torso.

“Mmhmm,” Dr. Bradshaw said. “Here’s a prescription for some pain medicine. You’re going to need it.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Phoebe said, taking the prescription off of his hands.

“We’ll just call you the Iron Man,” Dr. Bradshaw continued.

Quentin’s smile was huge now.

“Oh brother,” Phoebe whined.

“What I tell you?” Quentin said. “Made of steel.”

Chapter Eight

Eden stabbed her fork in the plate of spaghetti that sat in front of her. Phoebe glanced from her to Jasmine, and Jasmine shrugged. They were seated in Ricardo Trattoria having their weekly dinner outing. The triplets’ lives were always in the spotlight because of their family’s famous name. Each time either of them made an achievement or dated someone and broke up, the news would find its way splashed across newspapers, magazines, and sometimes TMZ. So planning their outings was a must.

Growing up in a family with the cameras set and ready to capture every moment of your public or private life was not all it was cracked up to be. But Phoebe, Eden, and Jasmine had managed it, with the help of their family of course.

“There’s someone over your shoulder taking a picture,” Eden said dryly.

Phoebe glanced back to Jasmine then turned to peer over her shoulder. Just as Eden had predicted, a flash in the rear corner of the establishment illuminated than quickly went away. Phoebe sighed.

“How would you know, you’ve barely lifted your head from your pasta. What am I missing?”

Eden looked up at Phoebe. “I’m surprised you still haven’t figured out how to spot them yet.”

“How am I supposed to know when someone is going to take out a camera and take a shot?” Phoebe said.

“There’s a simple mathematics to this. If you calculate—”

“Oh boy, here we go,” Jasmine interrupted.

Eden turned a sharp eye to her. “What? There is a simple mathematics to this. If there weren’t, I wouldn’t have known that guy was going to take that picture without looking his way. I also wouldn’t know he’s turned around a second time and now he’s recording.”

Phoebe and Jasmine turned back to the guy. Sure enough, he’d left his seat and was now standing boldly filming them. They both turned around with a grumbling sigh.

“We should probably get out of here,” Phoebe said.

“No.” Jasmine called out to a passing server, “Excuse me, can I see the person in charge please?”

“Is everything okay?” the dark-haired, gray-eyed waitress asked.

“No, it’s not. There’s a man across the room filming us, and it’s rude. Either get rid of him, or we’re leaving.”

The waitress took her eyes across the room and still the guy recorded them, waitress and all.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

The waitress took off, and Jasmine sat back crossing her legs. They all waited patiently for the outcome of their issue before resuming their conversation. The waitress and the owner approached the man.

“Hey man, it’s a free country, I’m not hurting anybody,” the man said.

The owner was joined with security, and gradually without making a scene they discarded the patron.

“That should teach him a lesson,” Jasmine said, pulling her hair behind her pierced ear. “Here they come.”

The owner approached their table. “Good evening, Ms. Rose.” He reached out for a handshake, and they all greeted him one by one. “Please accept my humblest apologies. I hope you all will enjoy your meal, on the house tonight.”

“Thank you,” they all chimed.

The owner strolled away, and the waitress spoke next.

“Are you ladies ready to order?”

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Phoebe said, pointing to Eden’s dish.

“Yes, ma’am,” the waitress scribbled, “and you?” she asked Jasmine.

“Let me get your Caesar salad and the apple martini, please.”

The waitress smiled and nodded. “Good choice,” she said. “Anything else?” She glanced around at all three of them.

Phoebe and Jasmine glanced back at Eden who had resumed her stirring of her food.

“Bring her an apple martini also,” Jasmine said.

Phoebe lifted a brow and Jasmine nodded. “In that case, bring me one also.”

“I would usually ask you for your ID, but since I know you’re all over twenty-one, we’ll skip that process.”

“How do you know we’re over twenty-one?” Jasmine asked.

“Walk away,” Eden said to the waitress.

The waitress glanced over at Eden. “Excuse me?” she asked.

Eden pulled her eyes from her dish to the waitress but Jasmine cut her off. “Don’t do that,” Jasmine said.

“No, don’t you do it. Tell her, Phoebe, we all know where she’s going with her question.”

“She’s right, Jasmine, chill,” Phoebe said.

“So it’s gang up on Jasmine day, huh?” Jasmine said.

Phoebe acknowledged the waitress. “Thank you, that will be all.”

They smiled at each other, and the waitress left the table.

“Y’all are always busting my chops,” Jasmine said, half glaring at her sisters.

“And you like making public scenes for some reason.”

It was true, out of the three of them, Jasmine was the wild child. Celebrity or not, she spoke her mind, claimed her truths, and flipped out occasionally when she felt disrespected. Jasmine flipped her hair off her shoulder.

“No, people try me and I just set the record straight.”

Phoebe shook her head and spoke to Eden. “What’s up with you?”

Eden sat back and crossed her legs. “Nothing’s up with me.”

“That’s your story and your sticking to it?” Phoebe retorted.

Eden glanced between her sisters, keeping her mouth shut.

“Okay, tell me, is this a Derek thing or is it about your latest client?”

Eden, an interior designer, was having trouble with her latest client. The guy expected her to work at his side, nitpicking about every detail of the design. It was as if she hadn’t shown him a sketch of how his man cave would look when she finished. It was the worse type of client to deal with. You don’t hire a wedding planner only to plan the wedding yourself. It was ridiculous, but Eden wished that was the butt of her problem tonight.

“Let me just say, I completely feel your madness from the other night,” Eden said.

Phoebe nodded. “Let me guess, Derek wants to take you out but doesn’t want to disrespect your brothers?”

Eden gritted her teeth with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she said.

“Not really,” Jasmine countered.

Phoebe and Eden looked at her with their mouths agape.

“How can you say that when your situation is no different?” Phoebe said.

“They’re men, and what I’ve noticed is they tend to be harder when it comes to their family.”

“This B. S. is what Jordan and Quentin keep saying,” Phoebe blurted.

At that, Jasmine and Eden directed their attention at their sister.

“What do you mean Jordan and Quentin?” they said concurrently.

“Quentin and I are dating,” Phoebe said.

Jasmine’s mouth fell open in a huge smile.

“Since when?!” Eden said, astonished. Neither of them ever thought they would hear the day when Phoebe and Quentin finally decided to date each other. It was a known fact that the relationship between their brothers and their friends could change, possibly for the worst if things didn’t work out.

A blushing smile crept along Phoebe’s lips. “Since today, officially, I think.”

Eden’s smile dropped and she squinted. “You think?”

“Wait, time out,” Jasmine said, signaling the call with her hand. “Does Jordan know?”

Phoebe fixed her lips to speak, glancing from Eden and Jasmine. “Yes.”

The women’s mouths dropped even further.

“He walked in when we were holding hands.”

Eden and Jasmine were looking like clowns now with their eyes and mouths stretched wide.

“Please close your mouth before something flies in it.”

Eden glanced over at Jasmine. “Girl, this is CNN news right here. Please,” Eden motioned with her hands and got comfortable in her seat. “Tell us all about it.”

Jasmine nodded in agreement also getting comfortable in her chair.

“You know, your mood sure did change for the better just then,” Phoebe acknowledged at Eden.

“Oh, nothing is better than this,” Eden said. “Please tell me Quentin told him to stick it!”

Jasmine guffawed, bending to the side slightly in her seat.

Phoebe smiled. “I don’t know what exactly Quentin said to Jordan because I was outside of the room.”

“Wait, he didn’t put you out, did he?” Eden said.

“If you consider him asking me to, “let me holla at my boy for a minute” putting me out then yeah, he put my ass out.”

“Ugh,” Eden said, shaking her head. “That is just offensive.”

“Like their word is the law of the land or something,” Phoebe quipped. “What I know is when Jordan came out of the room, he was pissed, pacing, huffing and puffing.

Eden and Jasmine looked on with engrossed interest.

“We had it out. More of the same, back and forth. Then I left him standing in the hallway.”

“You better go, girl.” Eden raised her hand for a clap to which Phoebe leaned in meeting her palm midair.

“You have to understand though,” Jasmine reiterated. “There’s no telling what they’ve all done together or witnessed one another doing.”

“Gee, Jasmine, I’m going to lose my lunch if you keep talking like that,” Eden said.

Jasmine glanced down at Eden’s plate. “How, you didn’t eat anything.”

Phoebe chuckled, and Eden rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” Eden said, “does Jonathon know?”

Now it was Phoebe’s time to roll her eyes. “Just Jonathon?”

“Well, I mean, the others, too, but especially Jonathon.”

Phoebe sighed; she was becoming annoyed again. “I don’t think he knows yet. Quentin wants to talk to him before we…”

“Start getting it on,” Jasmine stated with a wiggle of her brows.

Eden burst out laughing and Phoebe glared. “I’m sorry,” Eden said, “it was funny. It’s what we all want to know anyway.”

“Well why didn’t you just ask instead of pretending like you’re interested in the whole ordeal?”

“No, no,” Eden waved with a hand. “We’re interested in that, too, but very much so, in the other thing.” Eden’s smile held.

At Phoebe’s unsure look, Eden called out to her. “Phoebe?”

“I’m not so sure that’s up for debate.”

Jasmine and Eden glanced at each other. “Why?” Jasmine asked.

Phoebe recounted their events in Nicaragua and the way Quentin had paused when he’d found out that she was a virgin.

“So you’re saying he has a problem with you never giving it up before?” Eden questioned.

“I still can’t believe you haven’t given that poonanny up,” Jasmine said with a twist of her lips.

Both Phoebe and Eden turned to her with a neck roll. “Excuse you,” Eden said, “we all agreed not to have sex until it was with the man we would marry,” Eden said. “Just because you broke down and got loose as a goose, don’t talk down on us.”

“Loose as a goose!” Jasmine said, with her mouth hanging open.

Phoebe laughed and pointed at Jasmine with a wagging finger. “Loose as a goose,” she sang with her laughter tilting over.

“I am not loose as a goose for your information! I’ve only been with three guys.”

“Yeah, yeah, but who’s counting, right?” Eden murmured.

“Whatever,” Jasmine said. “This one over here isn’t marrying Quentin, but she was spread eagle about to get her some goodness.”

Phoebe’s laughter died down, then she shrugged as her sisters brought their attention back to her. “I’m ready, you know,” Phoebe said.

The table became quiet, and the server approached with Phoebe’s and Jasmine’s meals and martinis.

“Thanks,” Phoebe chimed.

“You’re very welcome. Is there anything else I can get any of you?”

“No, we’re good,” Eden said as she continued to take in what Phoebe had just said.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a minute.” The server sashayed away with a spring in her step.

“You’re really ready?” Eden asked.

“Aren’t you?” Phoebe retorted.

Eden shrugged. “How do you really know when the person is deserving? I sure as hell have no intentions of having just a sexual relationship with anyone. I want the whole package. Married, kids, white picket fence.” Eden paused. “Well, maybe a light gray looking fence, white is so cliché.”

“Girl, everything you just said is cliché,” Jasmine said.

“Maybe, but that’s how I feel.”

“Then Derek James Clark is the last guy you should want to date.”

“Why, if our brothers can change, why can’t he?” Eden asked.

Phoebe snapped her fingers with a head nod. “That right there is what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, but how often is there a group of guys who are fine as hell, multimillionaires…. Que dogs,” she added for extra measure, “who decide to all grow up and have wives?”

They all glanced around at each other.

“Actually, pretty often,” Eden said. “Happens in the NFL, NBA, the music industry, hell Cardi B just got engaged to OffSet.”

“Okay and out of those couples how many of them stay together? Or better yet, how many of the guys are faithful,” Jasmine declared.

“Well I’m choosing to believe that Quentin is not that guy.”

“And I’m doing the same thing,” Eden said.

“Hey, it’s cool with me, I’m not the one you have to convince.”

Eden glanced over at Phoebe. “What if we get to Jonathon first? We could corner him and threaten his life,” Eden figured.

Jasmine fell into another heap of laughter.

Phoebe shrugged. “Hey, desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

Jasmine’s laughter faltered. “You guys are really serious?”

Eden and Phoebe folded their arms. “Are you game or not?”

“Oh, I’d be more than happy to tag along. This is something I’ve gotta see.”

“No, you can’t come if you don’t have our back.”

“Jonathon’s a sweetheart. I don’t know what either of you are worried about,” Jasmine said.

“It’s not us we’re worried about, obviously,” Eden quipped.

“Right…”

“Okay, so when is this supposed to happen?”

Phoebe pulled out her cell and texted Jonathon. Jasmine squinted over the table. “You’re calling him now?” Jasmine asked.

“Why not, I’m ready to get this over with,” Phoebe said, and Eden had to agree.

“I’d like to finish my food before we all lose our appetite.”

Phoebe heaved a deep sigh. “I sent him a text message. We will meet him at his house. His wife, Octavia will be there, and she’ll get him together if he decides to act out.”

“Again,” Jasmine said, “he’s not going to act out with us.”

The table became quiet. “Okay, while we wait for Jonathon to text back, what are we doing for New Year’s Eve?” Jasmine asked.

“Hunter Valentine is hosting a party, and you know he’ll bring in the New Year with style.”

“Yep,” Eden added. “I heard his party this year will be on his yacht. As cold as it is.”

“The thing about that is his yacht is the size of Dad’s house. Everyone will be inside dancing, drinking, and whatever the night away until the countdown. Then you know everyone’s coming out to watch the fireworks display.”

“Mmm, I would sure like to be hugged up with someone special during that time,” Phoebe added.

“You and me both, sister,” Eden and Phoebe slapped hands, then Phoebe checked her message.

“No response yet?” Jasmine asked.

“No.”

“Does your cell beep when you have an incoming message?”

“Of course, what’s your point?”

“Stop checking it every second.”

“I can’t help it, he’s usually a quick responder.”

“Unless he’s wrapped up in Octavia.”

They all nodded.

“Well, are we going to Hunter’s party?” Jasmine added.

“It’s by invitation only,” Eden said.

Phoebe reached in her purse and removed a single gold and black envelope. Eden’s and Jasmine’s surprise was apparent by their wide eyes.

“That’s not—” Jasmine started.

Phoebe nodded with a sly smile.

“Oooh,” Jasmine snatched the envelope out of Phoebe’s hand. “You’ve had this thing in your purse this whole time and hadn’t mentioned it?”

“It just came today, and we’ve had more important things to talk about,” Phoebe said.

“Speak for yourself,” Jasmine said, and they all chuckled.

Being invited to a Valentine party was like getting an invitation to meet the President. The Valentines were another one of Chicago’s wealthiest families. They moved with the richest and most elite people around the world and grew up right in the heart of the windy city.

“It has all of our names on it.” Jasmine smiled. “And it allows us to each bring a guest.”

“You think they would mind if we brought Quentin and Derek?” Eden asked.

Jasmine frowned at Eden. “You know good and well Quentin and Derek aren’t partying with Hunter Valentine.”

“What’s the history between them anyway?” Eden asked.

“It’s not really between Quentin and Derek. It’s between Hunter and Josiah. You know once one doesn’t like someone, they all don’t. It’s a code type of thing or something.”

“Then that means we can’t go!” Eden said.

“Speak for yourself,” Jasmine said again, and the ladies fell out laughing. “Hunter hasn’t done anything to me. I love my brother, and I’ll ask his forgiveness later. He can’t stay mad at me forever.”

Eden and Phoebe laughed harder.

“Y’all laughing like I’m playing. I’m not.”

“We know,” Phoebe added.

“So are we going or not?”

They all looked at each other and shrugged.

“It really just depends on the nature of my situationship with Quentin,” Phoebe said. “If we’re together, and he won’t come, then I’ll have to miss out on this one.”

Jasmine looked at Eden. “That means you, too, huh?”

Eden nodded with her lips poked out. “Sorry to say, sis, but yeah.”

“Fine then,” Jasmine said. “I’ll go by myself. Or maybe I’ll invite Selena and Carla, they’ll go with me.”

“Oh, you’ll be in good company then,” Eden said.

“Yeah,” Jasmine nodded, “and you two ladies will be missing out on the party of the century.”

Chapter Nine

Quentin strolled into the kitchen with a limp in one leg.

“You know you should really stay off your feet,” Cindy said.

“Why, because I’m a little banged up?”

“Um, yeah,” she said as a matter of fact.

“Nah, you know that’s not my style.”

“Right, because you’re inhuman.”

“Not at all. If I were, I wouldn’t need your help, now would I?”

Cindy grinned. “Point taken.”

“Thought so.”

Cindy eased around the kitchen comfortably in a pair of denim jeans that squeezed every curve in her shapely figure. The tiny tank top she wore barely covered her entire midriff while one of her spaghetti straps hung off her shoulder leisurely. Quentin had never thought for a moment that he would be considering firing her, but now that idea was a reality. Cindy had been his assistant for five years after he’d had to fire the previous one for trying to dictate his professional life after she’d gotten too comfortable in her position.

Cindy had been a breeze, and for a long time their relationship had been strictly professional. But there was that one lonely night when they were both at the office working late. She’d strolled in casually and perched her butt on his desk, giving him an all-knowing look. He should’ve let it pass, but the curiosity in him made Quentin take their professional relationship into a personal one, and they had sex not once but twice that night. That was two years ago. Within that time, their relationship had gone smoothly with neither one of them making demands or catching feelings. But still, from time to time, they would join each other for another night of boat rocking sex.

Now standing in the kitchen leaning against the counter, Quentin contemplated what he would tell her. They not only had a solid working relationship but a good friendship as well. Quentin squeezed the bottle of water and drank the rest of it. Trying to keep her around and be serious with Phoebe could be a mistake. Even though Cindy had never given Quentin a reason to believe she would grow an attitude if he became serious with someone other than her. It wasn’t like she didn’t know he slept with other women. And she had been just the same as if she didn’t care.

But it might not sit well with Phoebe. It was something he would ask. Quentin had every intention of being honest and open with Phoebe. Phoebe was who he wanted, and no one would come between that.

“What are you over there thinking?” Cindy asked.

“Wondering why you’re walking around with that lil shirt on as cold as it is outside,” he said.

Cindy smiled over at him. “It’s warm in here. I have my slippers on,” she said.

“Are you staying over?”

“Yeah, I thought you wanted me to.”

“That’s fine, just making sure.”

Cindy nodded and prepared their food.

“So, what’s up with you and Phoebe?” she asked casually.

“What do you mean?”

“She seemed a little apprehensive about me coming over today.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. It was all in the way she said, forget all about what he said, I’ll be over to help him out,” Cindy mimicked. “There was definitely something there.”

“Does that bother you?” Quentin asked.

Cindy strolled across the room with two plates in hand. She sat one in front of Quentin and shrugged.

“I just don’t want to be the butt of an unknown joke.”

Quentin gave her a straightforward gaze. “Elaborate, please.”

“I just want to ask. Are we doing anything here? I mean, we’ve been mixing business with pleasure for some time now. Is this just our thing, should I be looking for more, or?”

Quentin was slightly taken aback, especially after his previous thoughts.

“Do you want more, Cindy?”

He was testing her of course, wanting to know if she was expecting more out of their friendship.

Cindy shrugged. “I want whatever you want.”

Quentin wasn’t sure if that was a proper answer.

“I like the way things are between us,” she added, “and when people decide to turn a friendship into a relationship, it never ends well.”

“You speak as if you’ve experienced this before.”

“Haven’t we all? You think because you get along with someone well for months or years that you could possibly make a perfect couple. Then when things go wrong, trust me, nothing is always good. Things will go wrong, and when they do, your friendship is ruined. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“So all of that history you have with a person no longer matters if things don’t work out between the two?”

Cindy shook her head as she chewed and swallowed her jambalaya.

“It won’t make a difference how long you’ve known each other because the hurt or disagreement will be all that matters. It would ruin everything.”

The kitchen became quiet with only the soft clinging of utensils meeting the plate. Quentin stood across from Cindy eating his food and pondering her words. Pushing thoughts of him and Phoebe to the side, he refocused his attention and asked another question.

“So you’re cool with our arrangement then?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

Quentin exhaled a breath and took a sip of his water.

“Phoebe and I are dating,” he said frankly.

Cindy glanced up from her food.

“Phoebe Alexandria Rose?”

“That’s the one.”

“Wow.”

“Is it that surprising?”

“She just seems a little reserved, not really your type.”

Quentin raised a brow. “What’s my type, you?”

Cindy stared at him for a moment. “I just mean, she seems a little innocent and sweet. Not like the daring, long legged women you chase after.”

“Chase?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“What will you do with a sweet girl like her, huh?”

Quentin had a round of wicked things he wanted to do with Phoebe. But he wouldn’t share those thoughts with Cindy.

“Maybe you should tell me since you know it all.” He took a swig from another bottled water.

“Be nice,” she said.

Quentin choked on the liquid and limped to the sink to grab a paper towel. He cleared his throat hard and patted his chest.

“Are you all right?”

“You trying to kill me with your jokes,” he said gruffly.

“Who’s joking?”

“Am I mean, Cindy?” He turned back to her, and Cindy’s eyes covered his full physique from head to toe.

“Depends on the situation,” she said.

The kitchen grew quiet as Quentin could feel Cindy’s flirtation seeping out of her.

“You know, I think I’m a pretty standup guy. Everyone seems to think I’ll ruin her. What about all of my assets?”

Cindy smirked. “Awe, were your feeling hurt by that truth, Mr. Davidson?”

“So that’s how it is?”

Cindy shrugged. “All I know is whenever you’re feeling the need to loosen up; I’ll be around.” Cindy glided from the table, sauntering over to stand in front of him. “You’ve got something on your lip,” she said, leaning in to stick her tongue out. She licked up his chin to his mouth, and Quentin caught her arms just as she’d wrapped them around his shoulders.

Cindy gave him an odd look. “Is there something wrong?”

“I just told you I’m dating Phoebe.”

Cindy pulled back slightly. “Does that mean you’re celibate, too, because that would just be depressing.”

“Celibate?”

“I told you Phoebe’s a good girl, and she’s definitely an innocent.”

“And by innocent you mean virgin?”

“Ding!” Cindy said. “But do what you must. When you’re ready for some fun, you know where to find me.” Cindy turned around and sashayed to the kitchen sink with a sway in her hips and a whistle on her tongue.

Quentin reached to his chin and wiped her kiss with the pad of his thumb as a flash of their last rendezvous fled through his mind. It was true, he and Cindy had shared some heavy erotic times, and that might just be too big of a problem for his newfound relationship with Phoebe.

Chapter Ten

“Eight ball, corner pocket.”

The cue stick tapped the butt of the eight ball and rolled across the pool table with an air of confidence. At the entrance of the corner pocket, it whirled around the open goal before sinking inside.

“Every time!” Josiah, the youngest of the Rose brothers, exclaimed.

“Nobody’s that good,” Quentin said, shocked by the game-winning streak Jonathon had.

The smug grin on Jonathon’s face was boastful enough. He didn’t need words. Josiah slapped Quentin on the back.

“Look at it like this,” he said, “there’s always next time.”

“Don’t make false promises, brother,” Jonathon said toward Josiah.

They all snickered. Everyone but Quentin of course. Sitting at Lamar’s Sports Bar and Grill, the group of friends high-fived and switched positions as they all took turns playing pool. The bar was crowded for a Wednesday, but all Quentin wanted to do was let out the secret he held. Maybe having an audience this size was a good thing, then Quentin would have witnesses if this all went wrong.

“I’m off my game, man,” Quentin said.

“Oh yeah, I heard about your accident. Heard the car that hit you cost more to get fixed than your medical bills did.”

Jaden and Jonas laughed.

“It’s because I’m a beast,” Quentin joked, flexing his arms to show off his steely biceps. Although he joked and clowned around with his friends, Quentin noticed that Jordan was conveniently too busy to join them. Citing an important case was underway that needed his attention. A part of Quentin wanted to believe that was true; after all, Phoebe had also been missing the last twenty-four hours. The few times he’d spoken with her had been on a break she’d forced herself to take, so it was completely possible that Jordan’s absence was because of this important case.

However, Quentin knew better. It was already starting, and he and Phoebe hadn’t even been on a date yet. Quentin knew this process wouldn’t be a smooth one in the least, but he’d half expected to be given a chance.

Now standing here with men he considered family on the cusp of not asking but informing them he would be dating their sister was giving him a sour taste in his mouth, and it was no wonder he was on his fifth Corona, as he desperately wanted to wash his palette.

“I’m glad you’re all right, man, truly,” Jonathon said.

“I appreciate that.”

“How are you feeling now? Phoebe told me they released you the same day,” Jaden said.

“Yeah. The doctor called me the Iron Man.”

They all guffawed, and Josiah even ran around the pool table in circles, laughing.

“I can’t believe you just gave us that kind of ammunition,” Jonathon said.

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” Jonas said.

“Fuck you all,” Quentin said.

They laughed harder, drawing nearby smiles from lingering women.

Quentin took a swig of his beer. “So, fellas, how’s married life?”

“Oh look,” Josiah said, “he’s deflecting.” The guys chuckled. “Don’t worry tin-man; we don’t plan to laugh at you all night.”

Quentin shook Josiah off his shoulder. “Get off me, busta,” he said.

“Was that a serious question, man?” Jonas asked.

“Yeah. I mean, we grew up together, and got into some pretty wild things, too. I’m proud of you all for growing out of it and changing your ways. It just goes to show that anybody can change for the better,” Quentin said.

They all agreed.

“Well, not everybody,” Jonathon offered.

Quentin took another swig of his beer. “How’s that?”

“You still seem to be going strong, carrying the little black book to the grave.”

They all snickered, some bending over with laughter.

“Yeah, you would think so, huh?” Quentin retorted. “I’ve had a little time to do some reflecting myself.”

Their comical faces all slowly but surely one by one faded.

“You’re talking about Cindy, right? You’re finally making an honest woman out of her,” Jonathon cracked.

The guys all chuckled.

“Nah man. Cindy and I aren’t a thing.”

“Since when?” Josiah asked.

“Since now.”

They all laughed again.

“So, who’s the unlucky woman?” Jaden said.

“Why y’all on me like that?”

The men continued to laugh.

“Oh, I get it.” Quentin snapped his finger. “You guys can change and get married, but I can’t, right?”

The guys’ laughter simmered down.

“Naw, man, we’re just messing with you,” Jonathon said. “We’re all human. I know we’ve all had our fair share of fun.”

They all agreed.

“But every last one of us found our bride. If you’ve found someone whom you can’t live without, I will respect you for taking her off the market. I did.” Jonathon wiggled his brows. “You just have to remember, marriage is forever, and it’s brand new. It’s not something you can prepare for because it’s a different stage of life. But it’s beautiful, I’ll tell you that.”

“Here, here,” Jonas said, lifting his scotch in the air.

Quentin was feeling better about his revelation. If Jonathon truly felt that way, then Quentin’s next words should bond them even closer instead of pulling them apart.

“You all feel the same way?” Quentin asked, glancing from one to the other. They all nodded and continued to sip their drinks. “You have no idea how big of a weight you just took off my shoulders.”

They looked at him questionably.

“What’s up, man?” It was Jonathon who asked.

“I’m taking Phoebe out on a date,” Quentin said. He took down the rest of his Corona as he watched the words process through them.

Jonathon blinked, then shook his head with one quick swipe. “I’m sorry,” he grinned, “sounded like you said you’re taking Phoebe, our baby sister, out on a date.” Jonathon’s laser beam focus shot a glare toward Quentin.

At the same time, the door chimed, and Phoebe, Eden, and Jasmine sauntered through the opening. Quentin’s focus left the men and joined Phoebe’s. She smiled softly, but his stern gaze told her something was off.

Noticing Quentin’s trajectory, Jonathon followed his gaze to Phoebe. With a hard-angled glare, he turned back to Quentin and watched them for a split moment before he struck out in Quentin’s direction.

Everybody moved, with Jonas, Jaden, and Josiah reaching for Jonathon and Phoebe, Eden, and Jasmine running across the bar. None of them was quick enough. Jonathon tackled Quentin, and they fell into a table and toppled to the floor.

“Jonathon!” Phoebe screamed as the men wrestled on the ground.

“You son of a bitch!” Jonathon barked as his brothers drug him off of Quentin. “Take that shit back!” Jonathon shouted as he tried with ferocity to push against his brothers’ stronghold.

Quentin rose from the floor, checking his lip with the back of his knuckle. It had split, causing a little blood to seep out. Quentin’s dark gaze cut straight to Jonathon. Phoebe slid to his side with her mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

“What the hell are you doing?” Phoebe snapped at Jonathon. Eden and Jasmine stood next to Phoebe but off to the side. There had been many times they’d seen their brother angry, but this was a whole other type of madness.

“No, what the hell are you doing, Phoebe?” Jonathon yelled. He pushed and pulled, trying with all his might to get to Quentin, but Jonas, Jaden, and Josiah had him locked in their grasp.

Quentin slipped Phoebe further away from him, taking her out of the line of fire. He stepped forward and opened his arms.

“Let ‘em go,” Quentin growled, a dark challenge in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, please let me go,” Jonathon said, steadily pushing against his brothers.

“No! This is not happening,” Phoebe said, stepping back in front of Quentin.

“Come get your sister,” Quentin said, speaking to Eden and Jasmine.

“No!” Phoebe took her attention from Jonathon to Quentin, leaving her back to her brothers. Eden and Jasmine stepped in, attempting to pull Phoebe away, but she refused. “I won’t let this happen.” Tears stung her eyes. “This is not supposed to be happening!” she shouted hysterically.

“Phoebe, what are you doing?” Jaden asked.

“Dating Quentin is not a bad thing, he’s your best friend! You know he won’t do anything to hurt me!”

Jonas, Jaden, and Josiah all groaned. The owner Lamar approached the group. Lamar knew each one of them personally because the men had frequented his bar for years. It was the very place Jonas met his wife Samiyah one evening while she sat at the bar drinking a mimosa.

“Fellas, what’s going on here?” Lamar’s elevated voice boomed.

“Get off of me!” Jonathon said, finally shoving away from his brothers. They reached to grab him again, but he pivoted on his heels and stormed across the establishment, disappearing outside. They all watched him go then slowly turned back around to Quentin.

“I need to holler at you,” Jonas said.

“Now,” Jaden added.

Quentin held his arms out. “I’m an open book.”

The men stared each other down. Jaden, Jonas, and Josiah stood inches in front of him, contemplating whether to knock his head off or talk some sense into him.

Quentin stood ready. Regardless of how many of them there were, he would take a few down as he fell if need be.

Jonas took his attention to Lamar. “I’ll pay for the damages and any upgrades required.” Looking back at Quentin, he spoke, “This is not a game, man, you’re playing with fire.”

“Just a minute ago, you guys were all laughing and nodding. You were okay with the possibility that I had found someone I wanted to be with. But not now I guess. Hoping that you brothers would have my back and congratulate me was too much, huh?”

“You know good and damn well that telling us you’re dating our baby sister would not go over nicely. Phoebe is not someone you can try out to see if you’re ready for marriage.”

“I’m not trying her out for anything. As of now, we are just dating.”

“That’s even worse,” Josiah said.

“Who knows? Phoebe might decide she doesn’t like me after all and ditch me for the new kid on the block.” Quentin tossed his hands up. “Will you guys have pity on me then.”

Phoebe wanted to tell him that would never happen. Unless he did something stupid like cheat on her of course.

“We’ve had these conversations before. Family is off limits,” Jonas said.

“You sound like Jordan.”

At the mention of their brother, the men’s eyes all skipped over one another.

“Jordan knew about this?” Josiah asked.

Phoebe folded her arms. “This is beyond ridiculous. You guys act as if I’m sixteen years old! I’m a grown woman, damn it!” And she was tired of shouting it, but no one seemed to be listening.

“You’re right,” Jonas admitted, and Phoebe, Eden, or Jasmine couldn’t believe he’d said it. “You are a grown woman. Who you date is your business. But that doesn’t mean it won’t have consequences.”

“You haven’t even given him a chance,” she said. “How’s that fair? None of us thought any of you would change and get married, but you did! How does Quentin not get a fair chance?” Phoebe’s chest was tight, and periodically a tear would escape her eyes.

“I don’t have a problem with giving Quentin a chance,” Jonas said, “but not with you.”

Phoebe was so heartbroken she could’ve screamed. She shouted and turned to face Quentin. She angled her head up to his face as she stood so close to him she could feel his breath as he exhaled. “Let’s go, this is pointless, please.”

Quentin took his gaze from her brothers and glanced down at her worry-filled eyes. The door chimed as Jonathon walked back through it headed in their direction. Quentin placed a hand on Phoebe and pulled her back to the side, preparing himself for a fight with Jonathon.

Jonathon pushed through his brothers, but they grabbed him as Jonathon pointed at Quentin.

“Choose,” Jonathon growled, leveling Quentin with a deadly glare.

“Jonathon!” Phoebe screamed, but Jonathon ignored her. He knew Phoebe would do what she wanted, and it wasn’t his place to stop her, but this wasn’t between Phoebe and Jonathon. It wasn’t about her ability to be able to pick out a respectful suitor to date because she didn’t really know what Quentin was capable of. But Jonathon did, and this was between him and Quentin.

“Choose now,” Jonathon said. “Are you taking our sister out, or are you sticking with our agreement… brother,” he spat for good measure, making sure Quentin understood the totality of what his decision would mean for their friendship.

Quentin and Jonathon’s stare-down was so lethal it was like mixing chemicals that would set off an explosive display of bombs.

“I won’t hurt her,” Quentin said.

Jonathon nodded with understanding. “You’re done.”

And with that, Jonathon turned, leaving them all watching his retreating back.

Chapter Eleven

“Let me put some ice on it.”

Phoebe moseyed up to Quentin as he stood staring out the window of his vintage condo. With his arms crossed and his jaw locked, his brooding attitude sucked the air out of the entire room. With a wet cloth in her hand, Phoebe reached to wipe the now dried-up blood from Quentin’s lip when he stopped her, reaching to grab her wrist.

“I’m okay,” he said, his voice thunderous.

Phoebe held her breath for a split second then released it, feeling defeated. When they left the sports bar, Phoebe jumped into Quentin’s 1966 Ford Mustang. During the entire drive over to his place, he’d been quiet, withdrawn, and slightly intimidating. Sinking down to the floor, Phoebe pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Quentin glanced down at her, knowing he wasn’t the only one who felt like the weight of the world rode his shoulders.

Phoebe’s head fell to her knees, and she cried softly. Moving from his idle position in front of the window pane, Quentin followed her to the carpet and pulled her into his lap. Phoebe snuggled there, resting her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said tenderly. “I never intended for things to get so out of control. I don’t think I realized how anal my brothers would be if we dated.”

Jonathon tugged her nose. “That makes one of us,” he said.

Phoebe glanced into his dark chocolate face, and Quentin brushed his lips against her forehead.

“You’ll understand one day,” he said. His thoughts were naturally all over the place. That much Phoebe could tell.

“This is wrong in so many ways.”

“But not in the ways you think,” he murmured.

“What does that mean?”

Quentin sighed. “I usually pride myself on being a man of my word,” he said. “Can’t say that much now.”

Phoebe’s forehead creased. “I don’t know why you made that ridiculous agreement anyway,” she said.

“At the time, it wasn’t so ridiculous. I had no plan of pursuing you, so it was easy. We were young, but we did agree.”

“And now?”

Quentin sighed again. “Now I think I just lost the only brothers I’ve ever known.”

They both became silent, and the silence thickened around them.

“I’m sorry,” Phoebe said again as a few tears trickled from the corners of her eyes.

Quentin kissed her face, then each eye, then her lips. “It’s not your fault,” he spoke into her mouth. “This one’s on me.”

Phoebe wanted to refute his words, but she found herself leaning into his mouth again. They kissed slow and steady, and with his tongue, Quentin tasted the corners of her mouth. She was so sweet and intoxicating just from a mere kiss that he could only imagine what making love to her would be like. Phoebe’s hungry kisses accelerated, and before long she’d found herself turning full circle to straddle his lap.

Quentin’s hands trailed up her shoulders, and he removed her jean jacket. Her skin was warm to the touch, smooth, and soft like silk. They kissed each other’s face, trailing down the side of their jaw then neck. Quentin’s erection hardened in his pants, and his muscle leaped to pat Phoebe against her crotch. A simmering heat coursed through their loins as they both found themselves passionately enchanted with one another.

“Make love to me, Quentin,” Phoebe moaned. She shivered at the heat from his lips touching her shoulder, but he never made a move to remove her clothes. “Baby,” she cooed, please…” she panted, hotter than she’d ever been before.

Quentin kissed up her shoulder blade to her neck and nibbled on her ear. His tongue swirled around her lobe, and again Phoebe trembled.

“Don’t beg me,” his deep voice strummed. “I’ve broken enough promises as it is.” He kissed the side of her face, but Phoebe stiffened.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” she said, turning to look at him head-on.

Quentin pulled his mouth from her skin and gazed at her.

“I promised Jordan we wouldn’t have sex unless I married you.”

Aghast, Phoebe’s eyes stretched. “Why would you say that!?”

Quentin buried his head in her chest and held her tight, but Phoebe was beyond annoyed.

“Quentin!” she seethed.

Quentin pulled his gaze back to her face. “They’re worried I’m going to defile you or some shit,” he said, “I needed to give them something to hold on to, so they wouldn’t think I’m just going to love you then leave you.”

“Ugh!” Phoebe screamed, pushing off of his chest to stand on her feet. “This has got to be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. So not only do my brothers dictate my life, you do, too?” She shook her head in frustration. “I seem to get no say into what happens in my life. Everybody is around here making decisions for me!”

“Phoebe, that’s not what I was trying to do.”

“But you did,” she screeched, “and I’m so sick of this.” She moved from standing over him, and Quentin rose to his feet.

“Where are you going?” he asked with his brows knocked together in a frown.

“Tell the truth, Quentin, you don’t have to spare my feelings.”

“You’re losing me here, sweetheart.”

“When I approached you in your gym earlier this month, you dissed me, like you couldn’t be bothered.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said.

“When we were in Nicaragua,” Phoebe continued, “I was butt naked laid out on a platter for you, and you dissed me again.”

Quentin sighed and gave her a stern look. “I did not diss you,” he said, but Phoebe continued her rant.

“Now you’re doing it again! I don’t understand. What, you don’t like virgins?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Quentin said.

“Oh, I’m being ridiculous?!” Phoebe was too mad to pace herself. “You’ve gone and made another promise without so much as considering how I would feel about it! No one has! You know what.” Phoebe tossed her hands in the air. “Forget this; if you don’t like virgins, maybe I’ll go gain some experience, then try again, yeah, then maybe I can get you to touch me!”

Phoebe pivoted on her heels but didn’t make it a step before Quentin pounced, grabbing her with a fierce snatch off her toes. She yelped as the strength of his grip caught her between the exit and his towering presence. Her body slammed into the hard shell of his frame, and his fingers dug into her side as he held her against the stringent length of his erection. Phoebe’s arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, and her legs clung to his waist. Taking a few steps toward the nearing wall, Quentin pinned Phoebe into its solid base. Meticulously, his dark gaze roamed over the contours of her face, and he lifted a hand to grip her chin.

“You… are not going anywhere…” his deep voice growled. “So that you understand clearly, sweetheart, I don’t share what belongs to me. And, you… are… mine…”

He bit down on her protruding chin and a guttural sound drummed from his throat. Phoebe shut her eyes as her breathing quickened, and her body sizzled from the predatory claim he staked on her. Quentin’s other hand tread down Phoebe’s thighs and pushed her skirt upward. With a firm rip, he yanked at her pantyhose, shredding the thin fabric with ease. Phoebe’s body torched as his rough warm palms skidded up her legs between her thighs. With his mouth, he kissed around her lips as his fingers ran circles on top of her panties.

Phoebe panted softly as her pulse pumped faster. Quentin’s fingers found the corner of the thin garment, and they slipped inside, making contact with her clitoris. Phoebe’s breath caught in her throat, as his fingers roamed around the protruding bud while his tongue traced her mouth. Her heart hammered in her chest with anticipation of what he would do next, and when his tongue invaded her mouth, his finger followed, entering her essence with profound depth.

“Aaaah!” Phoebe gasped as her head fell back against the wall.

Quentin devoured her tongue, sucking it in as his finger grazed against her inner walls.

“Oooh,” Phoebe moaned, her body consumed by a nefarious heat.

A second finger entered her vagina, and Phoebe’s gasp turned into a musical note. “Aaaaah!”

Quentin dragged hot kisses down her jaw and suckled her neck. Phoebe moved against his fingers, her hips bucking slightly and grinding slowly with the tingling ache that pulsed inside her heated canal.

“Quentin…” she purred, so damn hot she was going to melt in his hands. “This is, this…”

“Don’t ever accuse me of not wanting you again,” he said. “I want you, Phoebe,” his fingers moved faster, in a slippery slow fashion, “so fucking bad that I’ve got a notion to tattoo my dick inside you.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, and a lustful gaze fell over her face.

“I want you so damn bad, Phoebe, that I could literally tear you to shreds.” He kissed her chin while his fingers continued their pummeling cruise. “You turn me on in ways I’ve never known with anyone. Your fucking brains, your fucking beauty, your innocence is refreshing in a way that you could never understand. Right now, I want to keep you pinned against this wall and make love to you so hard, that when you come, you crawl into a fetal position and suck your thumb. I want to make you cry, scream, and rock like a mind-numbed mental patient delirious about what’s going on around you.” He licked his lips and increased the pumping inside her as Phoebe’s eyes nearly crossed with her mouth stretched wide. “You see, when I take you, I want you to be ready because if not, I might damage you, and that’s not being cocky, sweetheart, that’s being sensitive enough to give you a fair warning. Now…” his voice drawled. “Tell me again, how I don’t want you.”

Phoebe’s lips closed, except for the trembling of them. Her ears were heated, and her nipples painfully tight as they pressed against his solid broad chest.

“Nothing?” he said, as he continued moving his fingers inside her. Phoebe’s lips parted, but nothing came out but a whispered moan. “Let’s try something else, my love.” Quentin kissed her open lips. “Tell me, what it is you want, baby.” With his thumb, Quentin massaged her clit at the same time his finger jacked inside her.

“Ooooh…” Phoebe moaned, and Quentin bit down on her lip.

“Tell me,” he whispered against her mouth, willing to give her everything she asked for.

As if she’d turned into a madwoman, Phoebe opened her mouth and leaned into his was a hungry bite, sucking him in with the tenacity of a horny lover.

“I want you, Quentin,” she said. “I always have.” She panted some more. “I’m a virgin because I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice turned into a whisper: “It’s always been you…”

Quentin’s dark eyes stared into the depths of hers, Phoebe’s admission taking him by complete surprise.

“Take me, baby, I trust you.” She kissed against his chin, and Quentin’s nostrils flared. His heart beat something terrible and getting inside of Phoebe hadn’t come fast enough.

With sheer agility and ease, he removed the thin fabric between her legs with one fierce yank that snapped the garment from her body. Phoebe gasped as Quentin drug the material from her skin, letting it fall to the floor. A zipper grinded, and Quentin’s jeans swiftly joined her panties. With his shaft in hand, Quentin rubbed the head of his dick against the soft film of her labia. Phoebe’s heart rate sped up, and an overabundance of emotions fled through her.

Excitement, fear, wanting, coupled with the satisfaction of their final destination. It all grooved through her on a wave of heightened anticipation. She was relieved of her blouse, shortly followed by her bra.

“Just one thing,” Phoebe added.

Quentin paused.

“Shouldn’t we be in a bed?”

Quentin’s smile was devilish in form. “Why,” he said, “do you think it would be better that way?”

“Um, not better but less painful in the beginning maybe.”

Quentin considered her for a long moment. “If you would like to be in bed, then I’ll take you there. But if you trust me like you say you do, then you know it won’t matter if we’re on the top of the Empire State Building. I’ll make sure you’re all right, love.”

Phoebe didn’t need to be convinced further. “Okay…” she whispered.

Quentin cocked his head to the side. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said with a blushing smile.

“Don’t get all bashful on me now; you were talking shit just a few minutes ago.”

A tinkering laugh left Phoebe as Quentin held her with a dark, charming grin. Slipping and sliding along her vagina with his dick, Quentin claimed Phoebe’s mouth as he pushed against her closed vagina, submerging slowly with profound depth. Phoebe’s eyes shot up, and her mouth dropped as pressure so deep split into her center. Her inner sanctum spread to accommodate his girth, peeling open like that of a sealed case being punctured for the first time. His shaft drug alongside her walls and a searing heat wrapped around her skin so thick she was sure to combust in his arms. Instantly, her body began to tremble as Quentin’s dick reached the sensitive anterior that was her G-spot.

A driving force from his speared grind knocked against it, and Phoebe squealed in a waving shiver. It almost made her come immediately, and she closed her eyes tight as a tear fell from the corner of her eye. Quentin kissed down her jaw and dug his teeth into her neck, climbing so deep inside her that he ended up on his toes. When a wallowing cry left her throat, he settled back on his feet and gazed into her eyes.

“I’ll stop if you need me to, just say the word, baby…”

Quentin’s massive hands slipped down her sides coming to a solid grip on the curve of her thighs and ass. Her legs trembled. Softly at first, then with a thundering shudder. Quentin held her there for a long moment; their breaths whispering across the skin of their mouths while they took in the euphoric sensations. As Phoebe’s quivers lessened, Quentin dipped, pulling his lengthy erection out, then gradually easing back in. Phoebe sucked in an abundance of breaths as Quentin stroked her like that of a violin.

“Aaaah…” she sang as she clutched his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Are you all right?” he asked as his hips moved, bucking with a steady slow rhythm.

“Mmmm…” Phoebe moaned again unable to respond with comprehension.

“Baby girl,” he oozed, with a voice so thick it made her nipples harder. Phoebe opened her eyes and stared back at his dark brown gaze. “Tell me how you feel.”

Quentin pressed his forehead against hers as heat spiked through his existence.

“Beautiful,” was all she said as she panted into his mouth. He captured her lips in a piping hot kiss as his strokes turned into slow, digging thrusts.

“Damn, girl,” he said as his teeth found the skin of her shoulder.

“Oooh!” Phoebe screamed as he plunged inside her core, and her heart knocked against her chest. “Quentin, baby, ah!”

“Shit…” Quentin ground as he drove into her tight walls, trying desperately to keep his grind slow. “This pussy is so fucking tight, girl. Damn.” He took ahold of her mouth simultaneously, swallowing her tongue.

Their skin torched together, and Phoebe’s nails held a ripping grip on his shoulders. His thrusts connected with her G-spot, over and over as he sank to the depths of her bottom in long titanic strokes. Phoebe’s head fell back, tearing from his mouth as a propelling orgasm volleyed through her core. “Oh my God! Quentin!”

Her ears popped, and her muscles clenched, causing Quentin to come with a string of profanity on his tongue. A horse groan fled his throat, and they held on to each other so tight their fingerprints were sure to be branded in their skin. Their elevation had been beautiful, and their descent was just as precise. Quentin pulled her from the wall and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom. Laying down with her clinging to him, Quentin was so tempted to tear Phoebe apart that he almost couldn’t stand it. It would be an absolute blissful undertaking, but he knew she wasn’t ready, and it was important that he take his time with her.

Still buried inside of her cove, Quentin combed his gaze over her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tenderly cupping her chin again.

“Yes, that was… everything.” Phoebe dug her nose into his neck, and he kissed the side of her face. “Thank you, Quentin.”

“Why are you thanking me, love?”

Phoebe grabbed a handful of his dreads and pulled the locks out of his face.

“For loving me the way you just did. My body is buzzing like I’ve never felt it before. I feel so alive with energy yet lethargic at the same time. How is that possible?”

Quentin grinned and kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips. “Your body’s sexual awareness has hit its peak. It happened when you came, beloved.”

“Shit…” Phoebe hissed, causing Quentin to chuckle. “I think I want some more.”

Quentin peered down at her. “You think?”

“Yeah, I’m just afraid that my limbs won’t move.”

A wicked grumble fled from Quentin. “I think we can get them going again,” he said, “but for now, you get some rest.”

“Why, you don’t think I can handle it?”

Quentin knew it was in her nature to put up a brave front. But he could sense from the minor trembles that her body needed the time to figure out what just happened before he could take her again.

“Of course, you can, love, of course you can.”

Chapter Twelve

When Phoebe rose the next day, she was groggy and out of sorts. Flashes from last night assaulted her mind, and a powerful throbbing at her center gave her pause.

“Damn,” she said, thinking about what a blissful time they’d had.

Phoebe had all but accused Quentin of having no interest in her because she was a virgin and now, well, she wasn’t. A smile trudged across her face, and a delighted warmth coated her flesh. In the rhythm of her heart held an extra beat.

“Wow.”

Phoebe rolled to her side and slowly sat up; he was no longer in the bed, but she could hear the deep tone of his voice carrying from the master bathroom.

“No, I’m not doing the exclusive, so tell them to forget about it.” He paused. “I understand very well, I just don’t care for their CEO’s lack of morale, and I won’t be a part of anything that they own. Take messages for the rest of the day. I won’t be there.”

He paused again, this time listening for a spell before chuckling a little bit and then clearing his throat.

“I’m fine.” Silence again. “No, but thank you for asking.” Silence. “I’m not being a smart ass at all.” A sigh. “Okay, I didn’t even know I was doing that. I’ll try to do better, please accept my apologies.” A second passed before he chuckled again. “I’m not being a smart… okay, I’m hanging up. Call me if anything comes up.” Pause. “Yeah.” Silence.

Phoebe swung her legs off the bed and sank her feet into the plush carpet on his bedroom floor. Padding softly, she knocked once on the door then leaned into it to speak.

“Hey, do you have another bathroom?”

The door opened quickly, and Phoebe took a step back, gazing up at the imposing height of Quentin.

“Hey,” she said as a plethora of warm, soft, and inviting emotions fluttered through her chest.

“Good morning,” he responded, reaching out to grasp her hand.

Phoebe took a step inside as Quentin pulled her to him, and her gaze fell to his wounded chest.

“Oh my goodness,” she said, taking a hand over the bruised flesh. “Quentin!” Her eyes shot up to his as Quentin peered down at her under lazy lids.

“I’m all right, girl.” He pulled her closer, wrapping solid arms around her waist.

“How could you be after everything you’ve been through this week?” Suddenly, Phoebe felt embarrassed, and her cheeks darkened.

“It’s getting better, I can barely feel it.”

“Somehow, I know that you’re lying. It’s barely been two days since you were hit by that car and then that ruckus you kept up with Jonathon last night.”

“I didn’t have much a choice in the matter.”

Phoebe gave him a gentle look, lowering her eyes with a small smile on her lips. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“You already said that, and there’s no need for you to repeat it.” He pulled her lips to his mouth and pushed a warm wet kiss on her. “I told you it’s not your fault. Now drop it.”

“Or what?”

“I’m gonna spank you.”

Phoebe giggled. “Well, at least let me help you heal. I feel so bad about everything that’s happened to you. I know you’d like to think so, but you’re not really made of steel, Mr. Davidson.”

“Lies, girl, all lies.” He tickled the side of her neck and pulled her in tighter. “How do you feel?”

Phoebe nuzzled her nose into his chin. “Heavenly,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The default ringtone from his iPhone sang out, and Quentin pulled the phone out to check the device.

“If you need some privacy, I’ll step out.” Phoebe turned to leave, and Quentin wrapped her back in his embrace.

“How can I help you?” he said, answering his phone. “Send that to my email.” He paused. “Talk to you later.” Disconnecting the call, Quentin slipped the cell phone into his back pocket. “Take a shower with me.”

Phoebe pivoted in his arms. “I thought you would never ask.”

They kissed, and Quentin drew Phoebe over to the shower as he reached out and turned the nozzle. The sting of the water spray rained down, and steam from the heated element began to take shape immediately. Phoebe tugged at Quentin’s shorts, pulling them off without fail, and his erection pitched out at her.

“Jesus Christ,” she said, gawking at the thick muscle as it bounced and prodded her way. Phoebe glanced up at Quentin who held a charming grin on his face.

“You took it all, girl,” he added for good measure.

“Mmmm, did I?” she asked, uncertain.

“Yeah.” He led her into the shower. “You’re going to get your hair wet.”

And for the first time, Phoebe was looking forward to it. She stood under the shower’s spray as Quentin’s gaze ate her up, causing her areolas to stiffen. The water ran down her beautiful face, slender nose, and upturned cheek. It spilled on to her shoulders and flowed over her copious breasts. It cruised the length of her belly, disappearing into her treasure chest.

Quentin stepped into the shower’s spray with her. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“I don’t think you have.”

His forehead creased. “Are you sure?” His hands roamed over her shoulders. “I’m almost certain I’ve said it.”

Phoebe blushed. “So yeah, growing up you’ve told me that a few times, but not in the way that I had always wanted to hear it.”

He pushed his lips tight together and squinted at her.

“Maybe I did tell you in that way, and you just refused to hear it,” he said.

Phoebe squirmed under his prodigious height. “Maybe, you’re right.”

Quentin pulled his lips between his teeth. “Phoebe Alexandria Rose, you are the most beautiful girl in the world.” His mouth fell into hers, and he sucked in her lips. His tongue sank into her mouth, and she sucked his tongue. Heated spikes soared between Quentin and Phoebe, causing a tingling vibration to shutter through them.

“Mmmm,” she moaned as his hands cupped the slick curve of her bottom. Phoebe’s hands slipped up his toned abs, stretching her torso as she leaned into him.

To describe this level of ecstasy for Phoebe was utterly impossible. How long had Phoebe dreamed of this exact moment when she could be open about her feelings for Quentin? It had felt like a lifetime and now that she was here, Phoebe couldn’t have been happier. She hadn’t absolutely dismissed the spoken worries from her brothers, but she would give Quentin the benefit of the doubt.

The only thing Phoebe had witnessed was a gentleman. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but it was one of the things that she loved about him. Reveling in the solid warmth of his touch, Phoebe exhaled against his mouth.

“I love the way your lips taste,” she said, and he grinned.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“I love the way your everything tastes,” he said.

Phoebe giggled.

“And I love your laugh,” Quentin continued.

“Mmm, what else?”

“And, I love your spiciness.”

Phoebe laughed out loud, and he placed another firm hold on her derriere. A river of warmth saturated her bones, and she shivered again. Kissing down her face, Quentin lifted Phoebe’s bottom and her legs settled around his waist. With his mouth, he tasted her flesh, neck, chest, then breasts. Sucking in a perky nipple caused a storm of heat to sail throughout Phoebe. She sucked in a breath as the drum of water pounded her back.

Phoebe didn’t see it coming, but when Quentin entered her, Phoebe’s head flung back as he spread her tight vagina inch by inch. “Oooooh, Quentin…” she panted. “Baby…” as water pelted her face, running down her nose, lips, and neck. It spilled down his ears as he continued to suck her nipples and slip and slide inside her tightness.

Quentin’s wind picked up, and he pumped into Phoebe with perfect sailing thrusts, coated in a slathering heated wetness. With each drive into her, Quentin expanded her constricted womb as the suction from her lips held a grip on his hard shaft.

“Fuck, girl…”

“Oh my God, baby…” they both moaned at the same time.

The shower’s rain coupled with Phoebe’s natural crème caused a riptide of fiery heat to claim Quentin’s loins.

“Damn it!” He cursed.

Phoebe’s essence fit like a glove molded for the shape of his penis only. Quentin’s grip on her buttocks clenched as he pulled her up and down meeting his dragging thrusts.

“Aaaaaah!” Phoebe wailed, and Quentin took one solid hand against the back of her derriere in one spanking wet slap. “Aaaa!” Phoebe yelped again as an aching hunger slipped through her core on a steady collision course to meet his copious appetite.

“This pussy is so fucking rich…” Quentin’s baritone voice thumped. “Damn it I could stay inside you forever,” he crooned, stroking her with a faster driving force.

“Aaah! Baby! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” she screeched.

Phoebe’s legs vibrated, and Quentin knew she was at her release. Her quakes made her pussy clasp his dick, and for a moment Quentin lost it, pummeling her sweet vagina with pounding rapid thrusts. Both of their heads fell back as Quentin’s shaft tore through her wrapped in a tingling cascade of heat.

“Fuuuu-ck!” He cursed as a rocketing orgasm claimed them both.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Phoebe sang. She trembled so hard her body went into convulsions. “Aaaaah shit!”

Quentin held her tight as she shook and fell over on his shoulder, her body going completely limp. Her breathing was ragged, and for a second, Phoebe felt out of control. With her heartbeat slamming against her breastbone and a plethora of tingles cruising inside her. The only thing she could do was lay there solidly against his hard-muscled chest.

“I got you,” Quentin reassured her. “I’m sorry,” he said, realizing he’d gone too far with her.

Phoebe fixed her lips to move but instead bit down on her teeth as a labyrinth of dashing sparks shot through her body. Phoebe could still feel her pussy pulsing and her body drumming with the sting of their heated sex. Quentin kissed her shoulders, neck, and cheeks then up to her mouth in an effort to soothe her body’s nerves.

“Talk to me,” he said.

“I… I… I…”

It was no use. Phoebe couldn’t so much as form a syllable let alone a comprehensible sentence. They stood there, still connected, breathing against each other as their heartbeat found a matching rhythm. After what felt like several minutes, Quentin lifted her thighs and eased his manhood from her womb. Phoebe’s whimpering moan let Quentin know that he wasn’t the only one who felt disjointed from the transference of their coupling. He sat her down gently on her feet, and she held on to him steady as they both happened to notice the trickling of red water that slipped down her legs to her feet.

A gasped left Phoebe, and a curse spilled from Quentin’s mouth. Slowly they both looked back at each other with the same understanding.

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t say you’re sorry,” Phoebe said.

Quentin pulled his bottom lip in with his teeth. Phoebe leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Quentin pulled her closer, covering Phoebe in the solid warmth of his thick arms. Although he should’ve felt apologetic for taking her so hard, realistically, Quentin wanted to take her harder. He pushed his lips against her forehead, and they held each other until the water turned cold.

Chapter Thirteen

“I wish I didn’t have to go.”

Phoebe nuzzled her forehead in Quentin’s chest as they lingered at the entrance of her condominium.

“So do I,” he responded, pushing a kiss against her forehead.

The wind whipped around them, causing Phoebe to snuggle even closer. The scent of Quentin’s cologne mixed with his natural aroma enticed Phoebe, keeping her body on buzz. After their shared shower, Quentin and Phoebe lathered their bodies with oil for a deep-rooted massage. They took turns threading their fingers in the solid tissue of their backs, and Quentin had gone so far as to massage her ample bottom. It had made him harder instantaneously and completely aroused Phoebe, but after their bathroom fiasco, Quentin held himself in check and played nice.

It made Phoebe pout a little, but she was so entirely satisfied from their lovemaking that she didn’t put up much a fight. Now Quentin was dropping her off at home so she could get ready for work. Phoebe was already late, and her current case required all of the time she had.

“Is it possible for you to leave early today?” Quentin’s deep voice drummed.

Phoebe scoffed. “I highly doubt it. To be honest, it may be another month or two before I get any free time.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do something about that. Unless your plan all along was to kick me to the curb after you took advantage of me.”

Phoebe cocked her head up at him. “I won’t even respond to that with a serious retort.”

“Ah, because you know it’s true. You’ve been dying to get a taste of this Que, and now you’re ready to break my heart and leave. I told your brothers this would happen.”

Phoebe giggled. “Shut up,” she said. “I would never.”

“Mmhmm, time will tell I guess. So when will I see you again?”

“I can come over tonight when I get off.”

“Tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

Quentin twisted his lips. “Look at you, trying keep me behind closed doors to have your way with me.”

Phoebe laughed again, and her head fell back.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I’m no closet boyfriend, girl. I’m taking you out. I had fully intended to wine and dine you before you jumped my bones.”

Phoebe laughed harder. More so because some of his words held some truth. Although she’d been a virgin, Phoebe had been so horny for Quentin it was as if she’d been deprived of her fundamental needs to survive. It was probably from lusting after him for so long. Watching him from afar, and being smitten by his prowess. But the wait had been well worth it, and Phoebe knew without a doubt the road she was on would have her in love with him if the warmth in her heart and the stir in her gut weren’t already indications.

“When would you like to take me out, Mr. Davidson?”

“Hmm, how about tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Unless you have plans of course,” he teased.

“Well, I know I had a date with, hmm... let’s see, I’ll have to check my— eek!” she screamed as Quentin sank his hand inside her coat to pinch her belly. “Oh my God,” she said as a bubbling laugh crawled up her throat. “Stop it! Stop it!” she guffawed as he continued to tickle her.

“What did I tell you about sharing?” his thick voice groveled.

“I was just playing,” she chuckled, “but to my defense, I don’t recall you asking me to be your girlfriend. You just kind of told me it was so.”

Quentin peered at her then decided to humor her.

“All right. Ms. Phoebe Alexandria Rose, can I have the honor of calling you my lady love?”

Phoebe’s lids lowered as a caress of warmth blanketed her. With Phoebe caught up in his capturing dark stare, she nodded with a blushing smile.

“Was that a yes?” he asked, leaning into her. His dreads fell forward as he sank his forehead into hers, bringing them nose to nose.

“Yes, Quentin, I’ll be your lady love.” She blushed at the same time he cradled her head and sank his heated mouth to her lips. His smooches were so delicious as if he perfected the French kiss. A soft tongue invaded her mouth, and they were wrapped in a shield of hotness.

She loved the tender yet fierce way his tongue explored her mouth. Delicate, but hungrily greedy. Everything about his presence, the soft yet hard angles of his face. The sweet yet tangy aroma of his dreads as they playfully tapped the side of her cheeks while Phoebe and Quentin exchanged tongues. A lining fire sailed over her breasts, drawing her nipples into hard beads. Her breath quickened, and just like that, Phoebe was ready to skip out on the day and spend it with Quentin.

As the thought became a seed that took root and began to sprout, Quentin pulled his mouth away from hers, his breath labored and gaze simmering.

“I better let you go, or you’ll never make it to the firm.”

Phoebe licked her lips, needing to taste his mouth before responding to him.

“Never let me go,” she said. “And you’re right, I almost left Jordan to tinker with that case himself.”

Quentin put prayer hands together. “I’m already on his shit list. Let’s not do anything else to further piss him off.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Phoebe promised. “He’s more reasonable then Jonathon.”

“Don’t do that either. It’s my problem. I’ll handle it.”

“How, when he won’t even talk to you?”

“He can’t avoid me at Rose and Garnet LLC.”

Phoebe smiled softly, but it didn’t highlight her eyes like usual.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to caress her face. “It’s not your fault, so turn this frown into a smile. He glanced down at his Rolex. “Call me the minute you become free.”

“I will,” she said.

He kissed her again and stepped away, walking backward with his gaze still touching her. She blew him a kiss, and he winked in turn then pivoted to return to his Mustang. Phoebe punched in her code, and the door buzz then unlocked. She strolled inside and turned to peek back out the door just as Quentin’s car eased off down the street.

“Long night?”

“How long have you been standing there?” Phoebe asked Eden, keeping her eyes on Quentin’s disappearing vehicle.

“Long enough to know you’d rather be with Quentin then going to the firm to help Jordan with that case.”

“It’s not like he needs me anyway,” Phoebe retorted, still in the mood to talk herself out of it. “He’s brilliant, he has the capabilities to do it himself.”

Eden chuckled, then paused taking a closer look at Phoebe’s demeanor. “Oooh,” she sang.

Finally, Phoebe gave her sister attention. “What?”

“You did it, didn’t you?”

“Really, you go straight to that, asking if I gave it up?”

“That’s where you’re mistaken. I don’t think I need an answer because it’s written all over your face.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Girl, I have never seen a glow like that. You all shining and shit. Oh my God, Phoebe…” she half cried, half celebrated.

“Sssh.” Phoebe grabbed Eden’s arm and led her to the bank of elevators. Pressing the button firmly, Phoebe shushed her sister again until the metal doors open, and they were safely inside alone.

Eden’s jaw parted.

“Close your mouth before something flies inside,” Phoebe said.

“You know I assumed when you guys left, Quentin would probably drop you off later. I figured after that brawl, he would be too upset to even think about being in a relationship with you. But I should’ve known better the second that man slipped you to his side and bucked up to Jonathon.”

Eden shivered. “I’ve got to admit, girl. That man wants you bad.”

“Because he stood up to Jonathon?”

“Hell yeah,” Eden said matter of factly. “Don’t forget, dear sister, there were four of our brothers there, and they’re notorious for starting a fight they can finish. Besides being celebrity playboys, they can whoop some ass. Jonathon went straight for Quentin and didn’t break him. And Quentin,” Eden kissed the tips of her fingers, “that brother was willing to go through them all for you. Realistically, all he had to do was give in and say he wouldn’t date you. Oh but no, that was obviously not an option as he squared them rock hard shoulders.” Eden shivered again. “I hope Derek stands up to them like that. I’d drop my panties for him, too.”

Phoebe threw her head back and let out a pitching laugh while Eden nodded.

“That’s how it happened, isn’t it? Tell the truth. You were so turned on, you just fell on top of it like this.” Eden sank to the ground going into a split just as the elevator opened on their floor.

Phoebe’s laughter kicked up, and Eden made her butt bounce in a floor twerk.

“Girl!” Phoebe said with the brightest beam on her face. She reached down. “Get up off of that floor!”

Eden reached for her hand and slid to her feet as Phoebe pulled her upright. She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“I cannot deal with you today. I’ve got to get to the office.” Phoebe continued to laugh while moving out of the elevator to their condo.

Eden closed in on her. “I don’t really want to know the specifics anyway,” she said as Phoebe took her key out. “The door’s unlocked. I was in a rush to be nosey when I saw Quentin’s car pull out front.”

Phoebe shook her head and strolled inside with her sister on her heels. “But like I was saying, I don’t need specifics, just tell me it was fabulous and how many times y’all did it, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Oh my goodness, girl,” Phoebe smized, pursing her lips.

Eden waited with anticipation. “Well?”

“Twice, okay.”

Eden squealed and clapped her hands spiritedly. Phoebe giggled.

“And we never made it to the bed.”

Eden’s eyes popped, and her mouth dropped. “Shut up!” She shoved Phoebe and Phoebe laughed.

“And…” she continued as Eden looked on, “If he popped my cherry the first time, I didn’t know, but when we were in the shower…”

Eden gasped. “Ew! And Oh my God!”

Phoebe nodded. “That’s what I said. I was embarrassed at first, but it happens to all virgins I suppose.”

“But why wouldn’t you have known it the first time?” Eden questioned with her nose drawn up.

“Well when we left the wall, we kind of stayed connected all the way to the bedroom. We fell asleep like that, so it wasn’t something we checked for right away. I guess we should have.”

“Too late for that now!” Eden added.

“True,” Phoebe countered.

“Wait, the wall!”

Phoebe giggled and strolled away with a sway in her hips to get ready for her day, while Eden stood staring after her.

Chapter Fourteen

Quentin sat on the workout bench in a trance as he waited for his frat brothers Derek James Clark and Luke Steele to arrive at the gym. Thinking of last night’s turn of events was weighing heavy on his mind. Quentin had all but expected his friends to be upset about him dating Phoebe, but he never thought any of them would really try to reach out and touch him.

Jonathon did more than that, coming after Quentin like he was a random stranger on the street. Quentin knew his reputation with women wasn’t the best, but he’d always been up front and insisted that a relationship was not something he was willing to try. This was no different, except this time his heart was in it. Phoebe was the embodiment of what his soul longed for, and having to choose between her and his brothers was distressing.

“I think we may need to be in the bar instead of the gym.”

Quentin looked up, coming out of his musing, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “It’s about time y’all got here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to ditch me, too.”

Derek folded his toned arms across the button-down shirt he wore and glanced at Luke who also stood in a button down, suit jacket and tie. The two men were both above six feet in height and projected masculinity with staunch personas, and daunting occupancy. With Quentin, the three of them could be officially dubbed “the beard gang” as they all kept nicely groomed hair outlining their faces.

“Ditch you, too?” Derek’s voice beat. “What am I missing?”

Quentin looked them up and down. “How are you going to work out wearing a suit?”

“We have a change of clothes, but what is this about ditching you?”

Quentin gave Derek and Luke the low down on what happened at Lamar’s the night before. Both of them listened with frowns on their faces and lines in their creasing their foreheads, not wanting to believe what Quentin was saying.

“So he rushed you?” Luke asked.

“Like a linebacker,” Quentin said, “and caught me in the jaw on the way down to the floor.

The two friends’ brows creased further, and their mouths hung slightly.

“I expected them to be upset, but yo, this brother came at me like we were old enemies.”

“What did the others do?” Luke asked.

“They pulled him off of me, but I told them to let him go.”

The two men nodded.

“I feel you. Friend or foe, if you come at me like that, we’re fighting on sight,” Derek said, and Quentin and Luke nodded.

“It’s just unfortunate you know, I mean, we supposed to be brothers,” Quentin said.

“Yeah, man, but you know, if it was your sister or my sister, I’d want to knock your head off, too,” Derek said.

They all nodded again.

“Yeah, but would you come for me though?” Quentin watched Derek’s response closely.

“I might,” he rubbed his chin.

“But you know, I would never date someone like your sister if I wasn’t serious about her. I mean cut me some slack, why would I be foolish enough to risk a lifetime of friendship to play around with her?”

Derek stroked his beard. “Yeah, I hear you. So you’re telling us that you’re trying to take Phoebe off the market?”

“She’s off,” he stated matter of fact. “There’s no trying to it, brother.”

The two men chuckled.

“Okay, then let me rearrange the question,” Derek said. “Have you taken yourself off the market?”

Luke nodded.

“Look, man, I’m all about Phoebe,” Quentin replied. “I would tell y’all how I really feel, but you bustas wouldn’t understand.”

Derek glanced from Quentin to Luke with a raised brow.

“Try us?” Derek and Luke said concurrently.

That piqued Quentin’s interest. “Is there something either of you want to get off your chest?”

“Eden,” Derek said.

“Jasmine,” Luke added.

An easy grooving smile grew on Quentin’s face.

“Damn,” he said, “they got us.”

The men fell into laughter knowing exactly where Quentin was coming from. Neither of them refuted the claims because that was their commonality.

“Well you know what you have to look forward two with the Roses,” Quentin added as their laughter died down.

“I think I can take ‘em,” Derek said.

They all laughed again.

“I’m serious. I might have to knock some heads off because Eden, she’s a keeper, man.”

Luke nodded. “I can take Jonas,” he said.

Both Quentin and Derek cut their eyes at Luke with a smile.

“You can take on Jonas?” Derek questioned.

“Yeah, you don’t think you can?”

“We’re talking about an undefeated heavyweight champion,” Derek said.

Luke shrugged. “I can take him. Just because you don’t believe you can, don’t put your insecurities on me.”

Quentin laughed, and Derek frowned. “Insecurities? Boy, you trippin’. I can take Jonas, I was just worried about you.”

“Fellas, you realize you’re talking about which one of your brothers you’re going to handle, right?”

Derek held his hands out. “They’re coming for us, what should we do about it?”

Quentin glanced from Derek to Luke. “Check this out,” Quentin said. “I would have never in my life considered for a minute going against the brotherhood, but for the longest time, man, I’ve sat on the sidelines and watched Phoebe date these clowns. Then when dude would get out of pocket, Jonathon, Jordan and I would have to intervene. I’ve never felt like my heart could literally explode when watching her tears flow. It’s an unnatural possessiveness that even I worry about sometimes. We grew up together, I saw her laugh and was on the receiving end of some of her jokes, and it’s been like watching an award-winning film seeing her transform into the woman that she is today. Boy, when I tell you that shit has me on fire for her and never would I ever admit that about anyone if it weren’t true.” Derek and Luke nodded.

“All day, I’ve been thinking about how Jonathon approached me. Telling me to choose like wanting her was just this thing I wanted to check off my bucket list and if need be I could take it off altogether without giving a fuck. The shit turned me red, and I was ready to knock his head off his shoulders.” Quentin sighed. “The thing is he of all people should understand even a small ounce of what I’m feeling if he feels anything remotely close to it with his wife. But he doesn’t see it that way, so here we are.”

“Damn,” Derek said. “I feel all of that. Well look at it this way, with everything we’ve done in the past concerning women, it would be sweet irony that the one we really want is unattainable.”

Quentin and Luke nodded.

“It’s irony that all my life I’ve been represented as someone who breaks hearts when I’ve never willingly collected them,” Quentin said.

Derek and Luke laughed.

“I’m serious,” Quentin said. “I’ve never deceived women, always made sure beforehand that whatever arrangement we were in at the time was an understood one. Yet I’m the heartbreaker.”

The men agreed.

“It is unfortunate,” Derek said. “But, you’re in good company.”

“Let’s switch gears, fellas,” Luke said. “Let’s talk about something lighter… like New Year’s Eve. What y’all got lined up?”

“I know where I want to be,” Quentin said.

“Let’s make it a triple date,” Luke said.

Quentin and Derek thought it through.

“Are you bringing your nine milli because we might need them for the Rose brothers.”

They howled with laughter, unbelieving that they were on the opposite side of the totem pole. It was interesting and a little understanding of what their predecessors had once experienced.

“Man, I’m not fooling with y’all,” Luke said, waving them off.

“We have to try and make light of the situation somehow. Jordan wasn’t in attendance last night,” Quentin said, “but I plan to stop by and see him at the firm today.”

“Yeah, talk to the man, try to get him to at least give you the benefit of the doubt,” Derek said. “Invite him out not to a bar, but let’s find a place and have a serious conversation with our boys, man. We can’t let it go down like this.”

“You’re right,” Quentin added.

“You still have those tickets to the game?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, and no, I’m taking Phoebe.”

“In public?”

Quentin’s brows creased. “Yeah, in public, why wouldn’t I?”

“You know paparazzi will have a field day once you two are spotted,” Luke said.

“I know, but neither of us cares about that.”

“You’re really diving right out there, huh?”

“There’s no need to walk on the edge, my man. I plan to show Phoebe what being with a real man is like.” Quentin stretched back with a smile, laying down on the bench to lift the weights sitting on the bar.

Derek and Luke exchanged smug smiles.

“I can’t wait to see this myself,” Luke uttered, and Derek chuckled. The men left the machine area for the changing room. While they were away, Quentin rested in the notion that in his heart he understood playing games with Phoebe wasn’t on the agenda. He wanted her, every last inch and whoever he had to fight to keep her would meet him head-on, no holds barred.

Chapter Fifteen

Phoebe unbuttoned the top of her blouse while readjusting her bottom in the swivel chair as she reached for the desk phone. It was ringing for the fifth time in a row as the interns working with her on the Weatherby case called with information or questions about their assignment. From the moment she’d entered the firm, Phoebe knew everyone was hard at work as the office was compact with boisterous activity.

Phoebe had gone straight to her office and removed her jacket; since then, she hadn’t had a moment to think or check-in with Quentin. Whenever her thoughts crossed over to him she’d smile and bite her bottom lip but just as quickly an interruption would cause her to go from one emergency task to the next.

“Yes,” she said as she answered Christian, her intern’s question. “Stay with that, if you can get information don’t switch up, get as much as you can, then report back to me.” She paused. “Yes, thank you.”

Phoebe dropped the phone in the cradle just as a swift knock on the door pulled her attention.

“You got a minute?”

Phoebe nodded. “Of course, what do you have?”

Jordan slipped into the room with a disc in his hand, giving it over to Phoebe.

Interested, Phoebe took the disc and pressed a button on her computer that pushed out a door for the CD. She slipped it inside and waited for the information to load, crossing her legs with a slight bounce. Jordan stood at the window with his hands thrown in his pockets, his heavy gaze overlooking the skyscrapers.

“So, you and Quentin are really doing this,” he blurted.

Thrown off a bit by the question, Phoebe turned slowly. “This?” she said. “You make it sound like we’ve agreed to rob a bank or something. Get over yourself.”

Jordan turned and strolled to her side to stand in front of her.

“Get over myself?”

“I’m not doing this with you here.”

“Then where should we do it, sis, because I can’t seem to talk to you any other time.”

“This is not something we’re going to discuss because this is not a topic of conversation. This…” she reiterated, “is my life, and you are completely out of line for interfering or shaming Quentin as if he’s not good enough for me. Totally out of line.”

“Okay,” Jordan traipsed to the door, “but for the record, I’m not shaming him, I’m just calling it like I see it.”

“Whatever, just leave if you will.”

“Damn it, I don’t like this anymore than you do.”

“Then why don’t you drop it?”

Jordan glared at Phoebe. “Fine, whatever you like, sis.” He left the room with an air of finality.

“Ugh,” Phoebe grumbled, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. She grabbed her cell phone to send Quentin a quick text when the disc began to play.

It was foggy to begin with. It appeared to be someone entering a cellar with a recording device, but the room was dark, so the only thing that could be seen was the red blinking recorder indicator. Without notice, a man began to speak, he sounded much like their defendant’s father Allen Weatherby. He casually spoke his name, time, and date that the recording was taking place.

“I, Allen Weatherby, have spent nine months crafting this beauty.” A light flickered on, and the camera zoomed in on a metallic like device reminisced of a bomb. I’ve been given direct orders, and my mission on this plane will end whilst my journey to the next world begins.”

Allen Weatherby stepped out in front of the camera with a sinister smile. As he moved so did the video, following him around as if he was not the one recording himself. The picture froze, and a reflection could be seen bouncing off a mirror leaning against the wall. Phoebe leaned into the film, trying to make out the person in the image. When the revelation hit her, she gasped and jerked back against the seat. Her mind whirled, and she jumped from her chair, removing the disc and heading straight for Jordan’s office.

She knocked swiftly then opened the door and strolled inside without hesitation.

“So I’m just supposed to forget about you boning my sister!” Jordan barked at a calmly posed Quentin.

They both turned as she entered the room and became silent.

“Oh please,” she said, “don’t stop on my behalf.”

Jordan cleared his throat. “Did you watch the disc?” he asked, ignoring her statement.

“It’s why I’m here now.” She glanced to Quentin who had turned full circle to watch her. The Burberry cashmere trench coat he wore complemented his well-built physique as it stretched the length of his masculine form tapering off at his knees. The collar sat straight up, and a peek of his strong neck teased her. The way his heated gaze cruised over every portioned detail of Phoebe almost made her quiver where she stood. “Good evening, Quentin.”

“My lady love...” his thick voice grooved.

A smile spread across her lips, and he winked as naughty thoughts of how they could redesign her office came to mind.

“Could you make out the image in the mirror,” Jordan said, interrupting their moment.

Phoebe’s eyes snapped to Jordan. “It’s DeAngelo Weatherby.”

“I thought so, too,” Jordan added.

“Why would he hire us knowing we would find this information out?”

“Honestly, I think he was the one who dropped the disc in our mailbox.”

Phoebe’s eyes rose. “That’s how you got this recording?”

“Yes. It was marked with only one word.”

“Which was?”

“Rose.”

Phoebe shifted her weight from one foot to the other, astonished at the

evidence they held. “I’m going over there,” Phoebe asserted.

Quentin’s brows furrowed, and that fierce protectiveness he always felt with her kicked in. He didn’t know the details of the case, but it didn’t sound safe for Phoebe to be going anywhere by herself. But before Quentin could expand on that thought Jordan spoke up.

“You have no reason to go see DeAngelo Weatherby. He’s not our client regardless to the fact that he’s paying us to win his sister’s case. We’re going to see Ms. Weatherby. She needs to know what her options are.”

“You know what this means,” Phoebe said. “Ms. Weatherby has to give up her brother or give up her partner.”

The room grew quiet as each of them played with those words in a different scenario. It made them all as equally uneasy to think of having to choose between loved ones in any situation.

“Have you had dinner?” Quentin asked, deciding to be the one to break the ever-growing ice.

“Is that an invitation, or are you worried about my nutritional needs?” Her lashes batted, and Quentin grew hard in his pants.

“Both,” he said with a lazy grin.

“In that case, I’ll be ready in an hour.”

“I’ll be here.”

Phoebe had a notion to stroll across the room and lay a mouthwatering kiss on his lips, but she decided to cut Jordan some slack. He was still processing their budding relationship, but it would be one of the last times she held back.

“We’ll go first thing tomorrow morning, so be ready. I’ll pick you up from home,” Jordan said, keeping his eyes on Phoebe.

Phoebe regarded her brother, standing stoic, with his jaw locked. She thought about commenting on what she’d heard upon entering his office then thought better about it. If Quentin was in his office, he’d obviously come to do damage control. Whatever he’d said to Jordan was their business, and if he wanted to talk about it over dinner, then they would.

“How much longer do you plan on staying tonight?” she asked Jordan.

“I’m not sure, the Weatherby case isn’t the only one I’m working on. Neither are you,” he added.

Phoebe stretched her arms, and Quentin followed her every movement. His eyes drifted up her tiny waist to her hefty bosom, small neckline and upturned head. She pulled deeper into her stretch, arching her back and yawning at the same time. The simple movements wreaked havoc on Quentin’s senses as his mind was assaulted with images of thrusting into her from behind and the things that could be accomplished with her sweet little mouth.

With all the strength he could muster, Quentin pulled his eyes away from Phoebe to glance at Jordan who was now pretending to be interested in a few papers strung across his desk.

“That’s true,” Phoebe responded to Jordan, “but I can at least take time to eat, can’t I?” she glanced to her brother who didn’t return her eye contact.

“As you’ve pointed out, dear sister, you are old enough to make your own decisions.”

They all knew this conversation was not about Phoebe eating, and she decided to let go of the charade and move on.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she turned to walk toward the door but stopped to gaze back at Quentin. “I’ll see you in a minute?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

She offered him a brief smile then left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Are we done here?” Jordan said, continuing to give Quentin no eye contact.

“In regard to the statement you made before Phoebe entered, is that all you’re worried about, me boning your sister?”

Jordan’s jaw tightened, and finally he leveled a hostile glare at Quentin. “Nice conversation you had with my brothers last night. I heard all about it when Jonathon called my phone raging at your audacity.”

Quentin decided to shift gears also. “Nah, I think all of you are hypocrites. And you know what they say about hypocrites, they’re the worst kind of people. They preach one thing while doing the total opposite.” Jordan went to respond when Quentin pressed forward. “Imagine my surprise when my brothers from the same cloth decided to shame me for doing the exact same thing they’ve done.” Quentin tisked, “Shame,” he said.

“Are you saying you’ve found the woman you will marry? Are you saying, Quentin Davidson, that Phoebe’s the love of your life and you plan to make her your wife? Because if you are, that’s a whole different scenario. Don’t get it twisted. None of us would be mad because of that. We would most likely welcome it. But let’s be honest here. You…” Jordan shook his head, “are not there, and you know it.”

“Says you?” Quentin said.

“Says Cindy, your assistant that you’re still boning. Or am I wrong? Did you fire her, or is she still on your payroll and your dick?”

Quentin gritted his teeth while Jordan waited for a response.

“Nothing?” Jordan exclaimed. “What about the woman you were having a cup of coffee with in the middle of the day when you got hit by a car?”

Jordan placed his hand to his ear as if to say, “I can’t hear you.”

“Nothing there either, huh?” he continued. “How do you think Phoebe will feel when she knows you’re still carrying around a torch for your assistant and possibly grooming other women while she’s dating you?”

Quentin brooded while listening to Jordan’s accusations.

“Ah,” Jordan said. “More silence.” He shook his head and took his focus back to his papers. “If there’s nothing else, I have work that needs my attention.”

Quentin watched Jordan for the better part of a minute, answering the questions Jordan asked in his own thoughts. It was pointless for him to tell Jordan he and Cindy weren’t a thing, and he had no plans to play around with her or anybody else while he and Phoebe were an item. Jordan wouldn’t believe him unless he fired Cindy, and it was something Quentin wasn’t entirely ready to do.

Quentin made his move toward the door and opened it. On the other side, Delilah Crenshaw, a first-year associate beamed at the sight of his magnificent splendor.

“Hi, Quentin Davidson, right?”

“I’m the one,” he said.

“Wow, it’s amazing to see you in person.”

“Amazing?”

“Yeah, I seem to run into famous faces often now that I work here,” she gushed. “I could stand to lose a little weight myself, do you have any pointers, or perhaps a class?” She lowered her eyes seductively, purposefully pushing out her breasts.

“Get with my assistant, and we’ll go over your needs in detail,” he said.

Delilah gushed. “Sure thing,” she said.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Quentin step to the side and held the door open for her to enter. “Oh, yes,” she said as if forgetting she was at Jordan’s office for a reason. She rushed inside but not without pushing her breasts up against him. It was blatant flirtation as the doors opening offered plenty of space for her to enter without touching an inch of him.

Quentin didn’t bother to glance back at Jordan because he was sure there was a glare targeted in his direction. He couldn’t help being an absolute chick magnet. It was in his DNA, and he’d perfected the art of a simple seduction that made women fawn over him at the drop of a dime.

Checking the time on his wristwatch, Quentin decided to wait for Phoebe in the lounge, but that became a back and forth of loquacious conversation as woman after woman approached him with a sudden weight loss journey they wanted to ensue. Thirty minutes had passed when he decide to take his waiting to her office. He stood and closed a button on his jacket as he strolled through the cubicles, projecting a powerful and dominating authority.

Phoebe’s door was opened, and her face was buried in a mound of papers on her desk. By the creases in her brow, Quentin assumed she didn’t like what she read. He cleared his throat, and Phoebe glanced at the door. Her frown dropped instantly, and a soft soothing smile replaced it.

“Hey,” she said, “come in.”

Quentin stepped in the office, and Phoebe rose from her chair, checking the time. “Are you ready for dinner?” she asked.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” he said.

“Can you have a seat for about five minutes while I close out my system?”

“Of course,” he said, “there’s no rush. As a matter of fact, if you’re not done, finish your task. Waiting in the lobby was becoming a bit overcrowded, so I decided to wait in here.” His sexy eyes moved up and down her completely, and Phoebe blushed and sauntered toward him. When she came close, Quentin reached for her, wrapping his thick arms around her waist. In turn Phoebe’s arms slipped around his muscular shoulders while stuffing her face into his neck.

“Mmmm,” she said, “you smell so good, and you’re so warm. I swear I could nap here and be completely rejuvenated when it’s over.”

“That can be arranged,” his deep voice grooved.

Phoebe giggled and exhaled a deep breath. She turned her face into his skin and kissed his collarbone.

“Lady love, you’re still at work. Wouldn’t want to disturb everyone else with your mid-afternoon fling.”

Phoebe giggled. “I dunno…” she sang, “I’m seriously considering it.”

Quentin pulled back slightly and eyed her with a slant of his lids.

“Don’t play with me, woman.”

Phoebe giggled again and finally drew away. When they disconnected, it was slow and steady as if neither one of them wanted to let go. Quentin’s gaze stayed locked on hers, and a sphere of warmth and electric energy circled them both.

Phoebe strolled around him to shut the door, and the click of the lock specified dangerous intents.

“You know,” Phoebe started, “I’ve got to be careful with you.” Her fingers slipped up her blouse and with three quick flips, the top three buttons came undone. “You have a way of making me unwind that should be against the law.”

Quentin unbuttoned his jacket and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Phoebe leaned her back against the door, with sultry eyes cast low. A growing smile registered across her lips, and with a finger she drew circles around her swelling cleavage. Quentin’s tongue chased his teeth, and in a prowl, he walked up on her, placing a hand on either side of her head. Quentin covered Phoebe with his extensive frame, dipping his head down to hover right above her face. The smell of Phoebe’s feminine fragrance made his libido go crazy. She had made it increasingly difficult for him not to stuff his face into her breasts and lick up her soft skin to her face. An animalistic rumble crept from his throat, and his pupils seemed to change colors going from light to dark.

Quentin licked his lips. “I don’t think you really want to do this here,” he said as his dread locks fell against his shoulders. Phoebe went to respond when Quentin pushed his mouth against her lips in a shush.

“Mmmm,” she moaned and promptly heat combed over them both. Speaking into his mouth, Phoebe purred, “Your actions discredit your words, Mr. Davidson.” Phoebe slipped her hands up the wool of his shirt, and her fingers sank into the flesh of his neck.

A knock at the door disturbed their sensual moment, but not before Quentin kissed her lips one last time for good measure. Phoebe was caught between a gasp when his lips suffused into hers, and she held on to his neck as the kiss deepened. The knock came again, and with reluctance, Quentin pulled away from her and crossed the room to the windows.

Phoebe readjusted herself and swiped the corners of her lips just in case her lipstick was a bit messy. Turning around, she opened the door with a hand on her hip. “Yes,” she said, staring up at Christian.

“I wanted to turn in the information I was able to come across before you leave,” Christian said. “Are you leaving anytime soon?” Christian’s eyes flew over to Quentin who stood with his back to them, looking at the same skyscrapers Jordan had earlier.

“Yes, I’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes. Thank you for bringing this to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night.” Christian turned to leave before deciding to say whatever was on his mind. “Hey, is that Quentin Davidson, the fitness spokesperson?”

“It is,” Phoebe said, amused that the young intern’s voice took on a hero-like fascination.

His mouth dropped, and his eyes stretched in surprise.

“How could you tell from the back of his head?” Phoebe questioned.

“I thought I saw him walking through, but I wear glasses, so I couldn’t be sure.”

Phoebe chuckled. “Have a nice day, Christian.”

“You too, and you too, Mr. Davidson,” Christian yelled out.

Quentin turned to the gushing boy with a nod to his head in a silent adieu.

“Sorry about that,” Phoebe said. She waited a beat then asked. “Did you and my brother finish your conversation?”

“Something like that.”

Phoebe could only guess how it ended.

“Anything you would like to discuss?”

“Not at all,” his easy voice replied.

“All right,” Phoebe said, treading around her desk. She saved the items on her monitor then powered down the computer.

Quentin strolled around to her chair to remove her coat, and holding it out, she shimmied into the wool material. Closing the gap between his front and her back, Quentin’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, snugly positioning the fleece over her. With a kiss to her cheek, he spun her in his arms then applied another soft smooth kiss to her cherry red lips.

Phoebe practically sighed, feeling completely euphoric being so close to him. “Shall we?”

Phoebe grinned and slinked her fingers in his brawny hands, and together they left the building. It was not without the curious stares of everyone’s path they crossed. As they waited for the elevator, they flirted shamelessly, a wink here, an air kiss there, a tightening of their interlaced fingers. The doors dinged, and they both stepped on, keeping their eyes locked on each other.

“This will be our first official time out together as a couple,” Phoebe said.

Quentin nodded. “Are you nervous?”

“Should I be?”

“It depends. You are accustomed to the limelight, and when you’re with your sisters, I’m sure it’s triple trouble.”

“I feel a but coming on,” Phoebe said.

“But now you’re with me, and once we are spotted, I have a feeling the attention we will gain will be exponential.”

Phoebe tilted into his shoulder. “I think I can handle it,” she said.

Quentin pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss that sent another stirring storm of heat through her body. The door hit the ground floor, and the elevator doors opened where a gang of paparazzi had been camping out after word that Quentin Davidson was visiting Rose and Garnet LLC. Phoebe and Quentin didn’t get another chance to change their minds before the pops of light flashed from camera bulbs.

Chapter Sixteen

“A limo?” Phoebe questioned as she and Quentin dashed out the doors of Rose and Garnett LLC.

“Yeah,” he said.

Photographers threw questions at them as they made a run for the awaiting vehicle.

“Why are you visiting a law firm today, Quentin? Are you in trouble?”

Before Quentin had a chance to response, another question was thrown from a different cameraman. “Are you guys dating?”

“Where are you going this evening—”

“Phoebe, look this way!”

Their chauffeur stood at the ready with the back door to the limo open. Phoebe slipped inside, and Quentin was quickly behind her. The chauffeur closed the doors, and the cameramen surrounded the vehicle steadily throwing questions while snapping pictures at the same time. Slowly, the driver pulled away from the curb, and the car sailed off smoothly down the street.

Phoebe shook off some of the frigid weather and looked at Quentin. “You were right,” she said. “That is worse.”

Quentin’s baritone laugh sent shivers down her spine. She loved it when his smooth coffee lips eased into a heavy chortle. The set of pearly whites highlighted his smile even more, and it was no wonder she loved tasting his mouth.

“I did try and warn you.”

Phoebe nodded. “You did.” She settled next to him as he draped an arm over her shoulder. “Rarely have I seen you in a limo. Pulling out the big guns I see.”

Quentin’s beard tickled the tip of her nose, and Phoebe turned her face upward to nuzzle under his chin. “I absolutely love the way you smell,” she said.

“As do I.”

“You love the way you smell?”

Quentin pierced her with a look, and Phoebe laughed. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“So you got jokes.” He reached and tugged her nose, and Phoebe giggled. “I missed you today.”

“Did you?”

“I sure did. Thought about you in every moment. What are you doing to me?”

“Mmmm, time will tell I guess.”

Quentin tightened his arm, pulling Phoebe’s face to his lips. A kiss, soft and warm, sank into her skin with a lingering drone. Whenever Quentin touched Phoebe, her nerves scattered with exhilaration. It was so dangerously different from the way she felt with any of the guys she’d previously dated, who never stuck around long when they’d found out Phoebe wasn’t putting out.

For Phoebe those guys had only been in her life to pass the time until she and Quentin could be together. Of course, she never knew when that was, or if it would even happen, yet she was willing to wait, biding her time patiently. Phoebe fell in love with Quentin slowly growing up. His protectiveness, his kindness to her, the way he listened whenever she had a problem. Even when she cried at times, his eyes would also water as if he could feel her direct pain. It softened her heart and opened her eyes to the possibility of a love everlasting. Now, to be here in this moment, snuggled next to the man himself, it was like a dream come true, and she couldn’t help but feel thoroughly whole.

It was 6:30 p.m., and the street lights were barely on. Their limo made a left turn, riding to the west side neighborhood of Chicago. Phoebe frowned.

“Where did you say we were having dinner?”

Quentin kissed the side of her head. He too, felt as if being with Phoebe was a dream. Never in his life had he ever felt so remotely comfortable and at home with any other woman.

“I didn’t say,” he responded.

“Ooou, it’s a secret,” she joked.

“Something like that,” he responded.

The limo pulled to the rear of the United Center. It was home for the Chicago Bulls NBA team and also home for Chicago Blackhawks NHL team. Phoebe glanced to Quentin.

“I hardly doubt there’s anything fresh off the grill in this thing.”

Quentin’s grizzly laugh ticked Phoebe, and she side-eyed him.

“Just go with me, lady love. I promise to feed you right tonight.”

For some reason, that sentence passed Phoebe in a non-nutritional type of way. At least when it compared to food.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“You sure? I’m feeling a little hesitation.”

“I’m fine, just messing with you anyway.”

“Oh okay.”

Quentin knocked on the partition, and seconds later, their door opened. He slipped out first, and Phoebe was drawn into his arms. They left the limo and strolled hand in hand through the back doors, then was escorted to a main hall where restaurants sat in a quiet corner.

“I didn’t even know this was back here,” Phoebe said.

“Nobody knows this is back here, unless you’re VIP of course.”

Phoebe raised a brow. “Are you saying I’m not VIP?”

Quentin chuckled. “Not at all, but you’re not a sports kind of girl, are you?”

“Since you know me so well, you tell me.”

“Hmm testing my knowledge, huh?”

“Yep.”

“All right, I’ll humor you. Kickball was your favorite game of all time. Next to that volleyball, then track. You used to love the Spice Girls until Geri Halliwell left the group in 1998, in which you swore you would never support anything of theirs again.”

Phoebe chuckled.

“The singer you idolized was Whitney Houston, and you cried like you’d lost a best friend when she died.  When it comes to religion, you believe that Christ died for your sins—”

“Our… sins,” she interrupted. “Go on, I couldn’t help myself.”

Quentin chuckled. “That’s what I meant of course; however, you also like some ideologies of the India culture.”

“I swear I’m part Indian, I just know it,” she partly whined.

Quentin smirked. “You can always get a DNA test done to find out your ancestry.”

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“We should do it together.”

Phoebe stopped walking and turned to him. “We should, shouldn’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Quentin’s voice bolstered, holding a James Earl Jones beat. “For all I know, I could be an African prince around here.” His intimidation made Phoebe giggled and before long she burst into laughter.

“And I an African princess.” She laughed.

Quentin pulled her in for a hug. “Or a Nigerian princess,” his thick voice drummed.

It made Phoebe shudder, and she pulled Quentin’s face closer to hers. “Or you a Nigerian prince,” she said.

Quentin leaned even closer, with his mouth hovering right above hers.

“Or you an Indian princess,” he continued.

When his mouth sank into hers, Phoebe purred, “Or you an Indian prince...”

The spark started in their ears then tinkered down their face, and mouth, covering their body entirely. A guttural growl fled from Quentin, and a soft moan skittered from Phoebe.

Their mouths meshed with a twinge of energy, and Phoebe shuddered again. Quentin couldn’t be certain the vibration wasn’t because she was cold, so even though he could stand their kissing her all night, he slowly pulled away.

“Let’s go.” Quentin grabbed her hand, and they began strolling inside the establishment.

“Wait,” Phoebe said. “Did you bring me here to watch the game?”

“I was hoping you might enjoy the game with me, but I know you’re not into that, so it’s cool.”

“If you have tickets, then I want to go.”

Quentin turned full circle to her. “If we go to the game, we can’t eat here, or we’ll miss most of it.”

“Well they have a hotdog stand or something, don’t they?”

Quentin chuckled, amused that Phoebe would be such a team player that she would eat hot dogs from the concession stand.

“Okay, since you insist.”

Phoebe pursed her lips. As if he didn’t want to go to the game in the first place.

“Ha ha, you are so funny,” she said.

“I thought so, too.”

Quentin drew Phoebe in, tucking her shoulder underneath his arms as he slipped his around her. In sync they left the hidden area of the restaurants and lounges coming to a set of double doors where two security guards stood.

“Good evening,” the security chimed. “You are more than welcome to venture through this door, but once you do, you’ll be in the mix with everyone else here to see the game.”

Quentin glanced down at Phoebe.

“Surely, if Lupe Fiasco or any other celebrity can sit at the game with no security, we can, too,” Phoebe said.

“We shall see,” Quentin nodded, and the security stood to the side and opened the doors.

Quentin and Phoebe strolled through, running right into a pack of Chicago Bulls fans. They meandered about, and so far, no one had noticed the elite couple. They made their way to a concession stand and Phoebe paused.

“Wait,” she said. “Which one of us do you think is more popular?”

Quentin raised a brow, but Phoebe waved him off. “Never mind it’s definitely you. So, let me grab our hotdogs, and we can possibly make it to our seats without disrupt.”

“Hold on, how do you figure I’m more popular? You have a whole family enterprise behind your name.”

“Yeah, but you’re a man, and fine at that, women are thirsty, they’ll notice your face long before they notice mine.”

Quentin laughed. “You’re serious?”

Phoebe straightened her face to show her sincerity. Quentin could understand Phoebe’s point, but he still didn’t like standing by the side while she stood in line.

“Eden!”

Quentin and Phoebe whipped around to find a rather large, tall woman running toward them. In her hand was a bag of popcorn, and more than enough hotdogs to feed a family.

“Oh my God, it is you!” she screamed, settling up in front of Phoebe. “What are the odds! I tried to talk my husband out of coming to this game tonight and look who I meet!”

A heavyset guy ran up behind the cheerful woman with a hand on his hips and out of breath.

“Mickey, what in the world has gotten into you?” the man huffed.

“It’s Eden!” Mickey was saying. “In the flesh!”

“Actually,” Phoebe started when Mickey’s husband glanced at Phoebe then Quentin.

“Quentin Davidson!” the man said, holding his hand out. “Oh man, it’s so good to see you in person. I’ve tried to get in your class several times, but there’s always a waiting list of about a thousand people and as you can see, I really need the guidance.”

Phoebe glanced from Mickey to her husband and decided not to let them know she wasn’t Eden.

“Oh by the way, I’m Earl, and this here is my wife, Mickey.”

“Good evening, Earl and Mickey,” Quentin greeted, “As you know, I’m Quentin, and this beautiful woman here is Phoebe.”

Mickey gasped. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, hun. I can never tell you three apart.”

“Shouldn’t have been calling names out then,” Earl fussed.

“Oh, I was just so excited when I saw you.”

A crowd began to grow around them, and Quentin clutched Phoebe’s hand. He slipped his other inside his coat pocket and retrieved a business card.

“Contact my assistant tomorrow afternoon. She’ll have your name, give her your info, and we’ll get you in the next class,” Quentin said to Mickey. “You folks have a nice night.”

Quentin wrapped Phoebe under him and quickly walked away.

“I’m sorry, Phoebe!” Mickey apologized.

“I thought you said I would be noticed first,” Quentin said.

“First time for everything,” Phoebe retorted, and Quentin laughed.

They moved through the crowd at the same pace, weaving around and about. Ducking off into the arena came with an exciting delight. The stadium was like a thunder dome with a massive crowd of fans. The sea of people wore red and black to favor their team’s color. The game was underway with the Chicago Bulls with the ball. Quentin slipped Phoebe in front of him and guided her down the steps to the VIP section on the second row right behind the team. They found their seats, and Quentin helped relieve Phoebe of her coat.

“Thank you!” she shouted as the crowd went wild when Rajon Rondo made a two-point shot.

“My pleasure,” Quentin responded, tossing their coats over the seat next to them.

Phoebe looked over at him. “Don’t those seats belong to someone?”

“Yeah,” he said, “me.”

Phoebe smiled. “Did you plan on bringing more people?”

“No,” he said, “just you.”

Phoebe didn’t press him on the issue further, deciding he’d gotten the extra seat for that specific reason, as a coat rack. They both got comfortable, Quentin tossing an arm across her seat and propping his leg over his thigh. Phoebe also crossed her legs as she sat back in her seat and cuddled under him.

“You know I’ve never been to a live game before,” Phoebe shouted.

“What do you think so far?”

“It’s pretty exciting.”

“Let me know if you still feel that way when it’s over.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you have plans with the family for New Year’s Eve,” Quentin asked.

“There’s a small party for friends and special guests, but I hadn’t decided whether I was going or not. Are you?”

“Nah,” he said, “I don’t think I’m invited.”

At the saddened look on Phoebe’s face, Quentin reached over and tugged her nose. “Cheer up, my lady love, everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

That seemed to make her feel a little better, and she leaned further into him, wanting to be closer. “Let’s place a bet,” Phoebe offered.

“Well, there’s something I didn’t know about you,” Quentin said. “You’re a gambler. No wonder you lost all that money in college.”

Phoebe’s mouth dropped, and she swatted him across the arm. “Did not, that was Eden!”

Quentin tossed his head back and guffawed. He’d known it was Eden, but he and her brothers had always messed with Phoebe, stating she was the culprit. Everyone knew Phoebe managed every dime she earned, even when she sold lemonade at her stand when she was young, so it turned Phoebe’s ears red and made her nose flare up when someone accused her of flushing away her money.

“I’m just kidding, my lady love, don’t look so disappointed.”

Phoebe cut her eyes at him, and a grin creased her lips. The live recording of the game went to commercial, and the players ambled off the court. During the commercial break, several cameras scanned the crowd, stopping on a few other celebrities in attendance. Quentin and Phoebe were no different as the camera zoomed in on the two.

The announcer spoke their names, and the crowd cheered to be in such good company. Suddenly their faces appeared on the overhead monitor, and the kiss cam lit up with roses outlining the frame. Phoebe gasped as she and Quentin noticed at the same time. The crowd began to cheer, mass clapping and thundering stomps.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” they chanted.

Quentin looked to Phoebe, and she blushed as his firm hand tickled her chin and lightly pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips tingled upon meeting, and the fiery torch that always consumed them spread throughout. The crowd went bananas, and cameras snapped as the pair enjoyed the tangle of their tongues. Their bodies held a searing concentration, and both hearts knocked in sync. A fluttering tinkered in their chests, and Quentin found himself reaching for Phoebe’s waist to pull her in. The crowd continued to scream as he deepened the erotic kiss, sending a trail of nerves splitting down their spines.

Phoebe moaned, and her hand slipped up the side of his neck as she welcomed his probing tongue. The crowd was at its high point, screaming with a thunderous sound, and Phoebe smile against his mouth. I love you, she thought. I always have. Her thoughts continued, and a cove of heat simmered between her thighs.

Feeling on the edge, Quentin pulled his mouth from hers as bad as it pained him to do so. His smile was devilish, and with one hand, he reached out and wiped the corners of her mouth with his thumb. Phoebe smiled in turn, shivering under his touch as they held each other’s blazing stare. They had just turned the night up, and Quentin was exceptionally hungry, but it was Phoebe who would fill up his plate.

Wrapping an arm around her, Quentin pulled her back into his chest, trying to casually refocus on the game coming back from commercial. With his leg propped back up on his thigh, and Phoebe in his arms, he added a quick kiss to the side of her forehead. The crowd was still hyped but had also turned their focus toward the game, and they cheered along as the Bulls went on to win.

After the game, Phoebe and Quentin were quick to leave the arena, knowing if they didn’t get out before everyone else, they’d be caught in a parade of people. Phoebe laughed with a sweet giggle as they dashed through the stands and ran for the door while holding hands. When they made it through the second door guarded by security, the two slowed to a steady pace, still laughing and catching their breaths.

“Are you good?” Quentin asked with a charming smile.

Phoebe nodded. “Yes,” she panted, a little out of breath. “I’m good.”

“You sure, I might need to work you out at the gym. I can’t be having my girl out of breath. Being together means we have to become track stars.”

Phoebe doubled over in laughter, and Quentin held on to her smile with one of his own.

“You know it’s true. We got to duck and weave, girl.”

She giggled, and Quentin reached for her chin then tugged at her nose. “Come here you,” he said, drawing her into an embrace, loving her beautiful beam. They walked slowly, making their way to the parked limo outside confident in the moment they shared.

Inside the car, Phoebe sat with her butt in the seat and her legs laying leisurely over his lap. She cozied in her perfect space with a head on his shoulder, one of his arms draped casually around her. Looking into his face, she kissed his jaw with one, two, three sweet kisses when he turned his face down to meet her lips. Again, they indulged in one another, heated, and feeling connected on another level.

“I enjoyed my time with you tonight,” Phoebe said.

“I’m happy to hear that. I thought for a minute I’d chosen the worst date to possibly take you on.”

“No, this was fun. The next time we do it, I’d rather be in jeans and some comfortable shoes though.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, but I must say, you are the real MVP, running in those heels like the track star you once were.”

“Once were?” She pulled away from him and placed a hand on her hip. “I’ll have you know I can outrun you and anybody representing your fitness center in these heels any day.”

Quentin laughed a deep thunderous guffaw.

“You find that absolutely too funny for my taste.”

Quentin’s hand slipped up the side of her face, and he pulled her in, kissing her lips softly. “I don’t mean anything by it, I promise.” They shivered from the heat of their mouths. “I love it when you put on that face. It lets me know when I’m in trouble, and that you mean business.”

Dreamily, Phoebe asked, “What face is that, show me?” She wanted to see his imitation of her.

Quentin straightened his posture and dropped the smile, giving Phoebe slightly narrowed eyes and a firm voice. “I’ll have you know,” he mimicked, “I can outrun you, and anybody representing your fitness center in these heels any day.”

His voice was Foxy Brown, like that of Pam Grier. Quentin threw his head back and roared, and Phoebe sucker punched him in the arm as a smile spread across her lips.

“There’s another one you do, I call it your lawyer look.” Quentin chuckled. “When you relax your face, and give a sultry stern glare to the jury.” Quentin straightened his posture again: “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecutor would have you believe that my client was responsible for initiating the encounter that cost a young man his life. It’s a serious heinous crime, and the person behind it should be punished to the full extent of the law, but fortunately, that is not Dr. Daniels, and I will tell you why.”

Quentin’s voice held a no-nonsense tone, and he moved his head from one angle to the next as if he was locking eyes with each jury member in his fantasy courtroom. As Phoebe watched him, she couldn’t help but laugh; everything he’d done was on point. Quentin reached out and tugged her nose, and Phoebe fell into his chest.

“So you’ve been watching me closely, huh?”

The limo pulled up in front of an Italian restaurant and put the car in park.

“I’ve always watched you closely.”

Phoebe scooped her arms underneath his dreads, tightening them around his shoulders. At the same time, Quentin returned the warm embrace, and for a moment, they sat and held one another.

“Are you ready to eat, my lady love?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, “whatever you want.”

Quentin squinted at Phoebe. “You will learn not to say such things to me.”

“Why, it’s how I feel. Like you could take me down a road blindfolded, and I would go because I trust you.”

Quentin drew back to stare into Phoebe’s eyes. They were low and dreamy holding a midnight glaze.

“Do you really trust me?”

He needed to know; it wouldn’t be surprising if she didn’t with the way her brothers reacted to them dating.

“Until you give me a reason not to, I’ll always trust you, Quentin.”

He gazed into her eyes, but his thoughts traveled to Cindy. Was it important to tell Phoebe that he’d once had a physical relationship with her? It was something he considered a part of his past. There was no relationship now. So why did it matter? What’s in the past was just that, the past. Considering that for a moment longer, Quentin decided to let it go. The door to the limo opened and with Phoebe in his lap they virtually got out at the same time.

Hand in hand, they strolled inside for a romantic dinner to finish the night. But Phoebe couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation in Quentin’s eye when she’d mentioned him giving her a reason to distrust him. The way her gut squeezed even though it was just a tiny bit, left a little gloom inside that she didn’t want to recognize.

Chapter Seventeen

The metal doors buzzed, and Melissa Weatherby strolled into the room. The guards at Melissa’s side sat her down in a folding chair pushed against the table. Gathered in preparation for this meeting, Phoebe sat across from Melissa as Jordan stood at her side with his hands inside his pockets.

“How are you?” Phoebe asked.

“You mean besides the numerous times I’m thrown into the hole for protecting myself against these bitches in here?” Melissa said. “Dandy.”

Phoebe slipped a glance up at Jordan then back to Melissa.

“What are they doing to you?”

“Calling me an extremist and every other name in the book, pushing me around trying to get a rise out of me. I guess they want to show me how bad they are and I’m not.”

“We can have you moved from general population.”

“You mean like in witness protection? No thanks.”

Phoebe frowned. “Why would you rather be in general population where they can toss you into the hole for fighting?”

“I don’t believe for a second that witness protection—”

“It’s not called witness protection.”

“Well, whatever it’s called, won’t save me if you guys can’t get me out of here. By your presence, I’m assuming you’ve come here to help me with that.”

Phoebe cleared her throat. “We have some information, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“Then why are you here? I told you I’m not putting my girl in this, so I know you didn’t come all the way back here to offer up the same deal.”

“Not quite,” Phoebe said.

At the bewildered look on Melissa’s face, Phoebe explained. “It’s come to our attention that your brother DeAngelo was the one helping your father build the bombs. We have evidence, and it’s our smoking gun. We can have your charges dropped and you released tomorrow. We just need to know if you have a picture of him we can use side by side with the evidence to prove it’s him.”

Melissa glanced from Phoebe to Jordan who stood quietly by her side. She didn’t know whether to be shocked or not at her brother’s involvement.

“How do you know this?” Melissa asked.

“We received a recording of your father staking claims on being the creator of the explosive device. Your brother’s image is caught in a mirror as it’s being recorded.”

“Can I see it?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have it with us.”

“Why not?”

“We’re keeping it in a safe place. As I said before, it’s a damning piece of evidence, but we came here to get confirmation from you and give you a heads-up so you won’t be blindsided when this case takes a different turn.”

Melissa rubbed her face as silence crowded the room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Melissa said.

Jordan peered at her, finally showing some form of emotion. To Melissa, Jordan was an interesting attorney. He never spoke much when they came to see her although Melissa had seen Jordan on TV talking to reporters about a case he’d represented at the time. Though Melissa was gay, she couldn’t reject Jordan’s gorgeousness. Rich brown skin, muscled shoulders, arms, and divine lips. She’d be up for having a threesome with him and her lady, if Jordan was into that kind of thing.

“This is not up for debate, Melissa, it has to happen,” Phoebe said.

“No, it doesn’t. Just because you’ve got evidence don’t mean you need to turn it in, and you can’t if you don’t have my confirmation. I don’t see how this would benefit me. My brother and I would switch places. How does that help the family?”

“You seem to be confused,” Jordan spoke up.

Melissa glanced up at him with a slow dragging appraisal, and she was ashamed to have felt turned on by his deep magnetic voice.

“We do not represent your family. We represent you. Period. This evidence was given to us. Someone wanted us to know it existed. What that tells me is A. someone wants you out of jail bad enough to give up your brother, including your brother. And B., whether you like it or not, this information can just as easily be handed over to the prosecutor, and they may have a picture of DeAngelo, then we won’t need your confirmation. It’s only a matter of time before those guys get wind that we have evidence that will turn this whole case around. It can be now, or it can be later. What you must decide is how much longer you’re willing to sit in here for something you didn’t do. We can have you released, but it’s up to you.”

Melissa sighed. “You think my brother would hand over a recording that implicates him in making that bomb?”

Jordan and Phoebe exchanged glances. “We have our reasons to believe he would,” Jordan said.

Melissa sighed again. “Does DeAngelo know?”

“If he does, it’s not because we informed him,” Jordan said.

“Well, will you?”

“Melissa,” Phoebe interjected, “I understand because he’s family, you want to give him the best possible chance, but understand, your brother was involved with a known terrorist group. He helped craft a bomb in the basement of a home with your name on it. If he cared as much about you as you do about him, neither he nor your father would’ve done that. But their mission was more important. It killed innocent people, and as bad as you would like to, you can’t help your brother, and neither can we.”

“Yes, you can, all you have to do is warn him!” Melissa shouted.

“But we won’t,” Jordan stated matter of fact. “He’s a terrorist, and we don’t defend those against our country.”

“Then why did you take my case? You had no way of knowing I was innocent except for my word!”

Jordan and Phoebe exchanged glances again. “That’s why we think it was your brother who provided the evidence. When he hired us, he assured us he had proof you were innocent, but he never said what it was. For all we know, he had a messenger drop that recording off, and he’s on the next plane out of the country.”

Melissa stared off into space with astonishment, not wanting to believe it, but knowing it was true. Her head fell into her hands, and Phoebe glanced at her wristwatch.

“Time’s ticking, Melissa,” Phoebe said. “If you want to get out before New Year’s Eve, you’ve got to speak now so we can get the ball rolling. Do you have a picture or not?”

Melissa sucked her lips in and let out a heavy breath. She was supposed to be excited that she even had an opportunity to get out, but instead she felt a major migraine coming on.

“Yes,” she said reluctantly, “get me out.”

The Next Day

When Phoebe and Jordan left the prosecutor’s office, they looked at each other and smiled triumphantly. With the evidence in their possession, the district attorney had no choice but to the drop the charges on their client. The smug look on D.A. Phil Grayson’s face was as comical as the way their eyes had all popped when the recording was revealed. Now Phoebe and Jordan had made sure Melissa Weatherby would be released before New Year’s Eve, which was a day away.

“Good job,” Jordan said, tossing an arm around Phoebe to pull her in for a hug.

Phoebe smiled. “You as well, big brother,” she said as they sauntered out of the station.

As they took the steps one at a time, a voice behind them called, “Hey, Rose.”

Both Jordan and Phoebe glanced back with pause.

“I can’t imagine how you must feel with your boy dating your sister,” Phil Grayson said. “The way he tongued her down last night for the world to see at the game.” Phil whistled. “Must have you and your brothers up in arms. I know if one of my buddies ever tried to get with my sister, especially a notorious playboy like Quentin, I’d most likely kill ‘em.”

Phil held that same smug smile he’d had inside the office moments ago. Phoebe’s eyes narrowed, and she went to speak when Jordan stopped her. Phoebe glanced at Jordan and watched as he cut his eyes back to Phil with a slow, methodic clap of his hands.

“Bravo, Phil. I mean really, that little speech you did there, congratulations. You assume you’ve insulted me, but let me enlighten you on something that you seem to have mistaken. My friend Quentin Davidson, whom I trust, has more honor and dignity than you would ever have in your meager little pathetic life. He may not have the best reputation when it comes to women. But unlike you, or any of your Neanderthal friends, I can say without a doubt that he will respect my sister, protect her, and love her with the type of passion you may live the rest of your days without ever experiencing.

“See, it’s always funny to me when suckas like you lose ‘cause when you do, you cry so hard on the inside that it’s vital to seek someone out to try and destroy. But please understand, the only thing you’ve done here is make a fool of yourself. Rose and Garnett LLC will still take the win.

“And my sister and my brother from another mother will go on about their lovely day. They probably have plans to bring in the New Year in the Bahamas. I may try to tag along with my pretty young ting,” Jordan said, changing his accent at the end to a Jamaican one. “I hope you don’t bring in the new year in that stale ass room at the Old Country Inn that you call an apartment. You should’ve gone to school to be a lawyer, Phil; then you could afford a condo.”

Jordan faced Phoebe. “Let’s go bring in the New Year, sis.” Jordan tossed an arm across Phoebe’s shoulder, and they cruised down the steps. With a grin on his lips and surprise still on Phoebe’s face, they strolled to Jordan’s Porsche Panamera and climbed inside.

Once they were away from prying ears, Phoebe asked, “You really mean what you said back there?”

Jordan glanced at her before cranking up the car. “Yeah,” he said.

“Then why did you give me such a hard time about dating Quentin?”

Jordan gave a curt shake of his head with a sly grin on his face. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

At Phoebe’s puzzled look, Jordan elaborated. “You’re my kid sister, no matter how grown you get. You, Eden, and Jasmine, you’re the embodiment of Mom. We’re protective of you because we don’t know how else to be, and as I said, Quentin’s reputation with women...” He let that linger. “Still, he knows how much you mean to us, and I know how much you mean to him.” Jordan sighed and switched lanes. “Put on your seatbelt.”

Without an objection, Phoebe buckled up. It had been easy to dismiss what her brothers said about Quentin. She had grown up right along with them. Phoebe hadn’t been blind to all of the women who threw themselves at Quentin. Some would grab his attention and others not so much. Her brothers didn’t know just how close Phoebe had watched Quentin. Pretty much every chance she got, but Phoebe had considered her brothers’ worries. However, she’d hope that the bond they’d all grown throughout the years would take precedence over Quentin indulging in a simple fling. So for now, Phoebe would continue to trust him.

Phoebe removed her iPhone from her coat pocket and swiped the screen. A notification sat in the middle. Quentin.

A smile filled her lips, and she double-tapped the screen to read the message. Inside, there was a picture and the words:

We’re front page news.

Phoebe smiled harder, and her mouth fell slightly apart. She hadn’t doubted they would make the news, but it was the way in which they did. Maximizing the picture, Phoebe stared at a collage of images of she and Quentin at last night’s game. In some of the shots they were smiling, while in others they were drawn fiercely together in a deep, delicious kiss. Damn, Phoebe thought. The picture had managed to cast her exact feelings at that moment. Completely swept away in his embrace. Phoebe’s heart warmed, and she peeled her shoes off with the heels of her feet and pulled her feet into her seat, folding them underneath her bottom.

“I saw that this morning,” Jordan said.

The car quieted as Jordan cruised down the highway.

“Be careful, sis,” he said, and somehow, Phoebe knew it was his final warning.

She reached and grabbed his shoulder for a curt squeeze. Jordan glanced her way, and Phoebe gave a soft smile. Jordan smiled back, and the car remained quiet all the way to Phoebe’s condo.

“Are you coming to the New Year’s Eve party?” Jordan asked as Phoebe stuffed her feet back into her heels.

“Probably not, but you already know where I’ll be,” she said, “or where I want to be.” Phoebe tightened the belt around her coat to brace for the winter weather and she unbuckled her seat belt.

Jordan nodded. “Most likely I won’t see you tomorrow, so, Happy New Year, Phoebe.”

Phoebe opened the door to exit the Porsche then turned back to look at him. “Happy New Year, Jordan,” she said.

They smiled at each other again, then Phoebe stepped out and shut the door. The wind had picked up, and it felt like one of the coldest days they’d had thus far. Jordan waited for her to enter, and Phoebe snuggled into her wool coat as her long legs took her to the entrance. After entering her code, the door buzzed, and she stepped into the lobby.

Jordan pulled off, and his thoughts traveled to someone he’d found a new friendship in. Selena Strauss. Over the last few weeks, he and Selena’s correspondence hadn’t gone past telephone conversations, but Selena intrigued him with her bright and comical attitude. Selena had kept Jordan laughing most of their repartee, and it made him want to whisk Selena away on a nice vacation somewhere fun. He wondered if she had any plans to bring in the New Year, and with his thoughts in that direction, Jordan dialed Selena’s number as he sailed across town to his condo.

Phoebe was in a daze as she stepped onto the elevator of the upscale downtown condominium she shared with her sisters. The end of the year had come so fast she almost felt transported. To close a case she expected would last for the next six months two days before a new year was unexpected but right on time. The elevator reached her floor and dinged just as Phoebe’s cell phone rang. She stepped off and strolled to her door while searching with a hand down her purse. When she’d found the device, Phoebe pulled it to her ear and answered while simultaneously fumbling with her keys.

“Hello,” she said with her mind still in a fog.

“Good morning, my lady love,” Quentin’s deep voice oozed.

A smile flourished across her face. “Good morning, my chocolate drop,” Phoebe responded.

Quentin chuckled. “Chocolate drop, huh?”

“Yeah, and sweet, too,” Phoebe said, entering her abode.

“But not sweeter than you,” he said. Switching gears, Quentin cleared his throat then asked, “Do you plan to spend New Year’s Eve with your family?”

“I don’t know,” she teased. “Eden did bring up a New Year’s Eve party that we were invited to.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a thousand invitations.”

“Not quite, but this invite came from Hunter Valentine.”

“Uh huh,” Quentin said.

“I have my options open. The day is still young. What are your plans for tomorrow night?” she asked casually.

“Hmm, let’s see. The fellas and I did talk about having a triple date with these set of triplets who mastered driving us crazy.”

Phoebe blushed hard. “Fellas as in you, Derek, and Luke?”

“Yeah, but I’ve changed my mind. There’s this hot lil cutie I’ve wanted to get all to myself for at least a few days,” he said. “She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to pick her up in the next hour or so.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “The next hour or so? Well that’s not enough time to let your date know, especially if she’s one of those girls who needs to prepare for any special occasion in detail.”

Quentin grinned. “Ah, you’re right, but it’s too late now.”

“Where will you be taking her? There are so many things for her to do.”

“I was hoping she would enjoy an evening… or two… with me in Paris, so she would need to pack a bag for at least three days.”

Phoebe clutched the phone. She was no novice when it came to traveling. She and her sisters had been almost over the globe and back. But spending days… and nights… with Quentin in the city of love sent an surplus of chills sailing down her spine.

“Paris,” Phoebe said in a breathy voice. Her heart knocked, and in another second, she felt herself lean into the hallway wall.

“Yes, my lady love, Paris.”

Phoebe exhaled with a feeling mixed with gratification and harmony.

“I would love to go to Paris with you, Quentin,” she said. “I can’t promise I’ll be ready in an hour and a half though.”

Quentin chuckled. “If you’re not, we will take what you have and buy the rest later.”

Phoebe grinned. “Okay…” she sang.

“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

“See you soon,” she responded, ending their call.

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you have plans,” Jasmine said.

Phoebe glanced over at her sister and smiled brightly. “Jealous?”

“It depends,” Jasmine said. “I didn’t hear where he was taking you.”

Phoebe poked her lips out. “Paris.”

A jovial smile splayed across Jasmine’s face, and she pierced her fingers together. “Just a little jealous.”

Phoebe laughed and strolled down the hallway to her bedroom where she spent the next hour and a half preparing for their getaway to France. As Phoebe moved, she hummed a tune with a dreamy smile on her face. The thought of being with Quentin for so long warmed her loins in anticipation. When Phoebe was done, she flipped her suitcase and pulled the handle out on it as she strolled out of the room. Upon entering the living room, she was met with Eden’s smirking smile.

“What?” Phoebe said.

“I just want you to know that, that little stunt you and Quentin pulled at the game,” Eden kissed the tip of her fingers and snapped, “it was perfect!”

They both fell into laughter.

“We didn’t plan it!” Phoebe said. It was the first time she’d had a conversation about it besides when she spoke with Jordan.

“You might not have, but I feel it in my spirit that Quentin did it on purpose.”

Phoebe tilted her head to the side. “How?”

“Come on, Phoebe,” Eden said, crossing her arms. “After that big ol’ fight with Jonathon, he turns around and takes you somewhere that is so public there is no way you wouldn’t be spotted. Even if,” Eden continued, already knowing what her doppelganger would say next, “he didn’t have control over the kiss cam, he still knew being there together would put you in the news. The kiss cam was just the touch he needed. Quentin is literally confessing out loud that you’re his girl without even saying a word.” Eden shrugged. “And I can only hope that Derek will be that brave.”

Phoebe hadn’t thought about it that way. But hearing Eden say it made sense. It also made her warm up inside even more than before. Eden glanced at her bag with a raised brow, but before she could ask the doorbell rang.

“I don’t have to guess who’s at the door, do I?”

Without a word, Phoebe sashayed to the door and opened it. Her heart did a double thump as her eyes graced Quentin’s gorgeousness. Like a king in his own right, he stood tall, with broad shoulders sprouting into a thick herringbone wool cashmere coat. The spicy scent that drifted from him aroused her, making her nipples soar as they tensed. A delicious smile grew across his magnificent lips as his eyes took in her full beauty.

Unable to help himself, Quentin reached out and touched her face, sending a quiver through her body from his warm fingertips. Phoebe had spoken over the phone as if she would need hours to prepare herself, but she’d never been one to wear much foundation. She didn’t need it, and her skin glowed with a flawless finish.

“Pretty brown, brown, driving me wild…” Quentin sang. He stepped in while pulling her into his embrace. Staring down at her, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth then slowly released it. “I’ve always been a fan of your beauty, my lady love.”

His minty fresh breath tickled Phoebe’s lips.

“Thank you,” he said, “for spending your new year with me.”

Phoebe blushed and leaned into the tips of her feet for a kiss. When their lips collided, they sank into one another, and a whirlwind of heat combed over them.

“Ahem…” Eden said, clearing her throat.

Phoebe giggled at her sister while allowing Quentin to continue their kiss. When her arms slipped up around his neck, a whistle sounded.

Pulling apart as if it took a mass of strength to do so, Quentin and Phoebe glanced over. Jasmine now stood next to Eden, both with knowing looks on their faces.

“Y’all can just get on out of here with all that,” Jasmine said. “Love birds.”

Quentin and Phoebe smiled, and Quentin leaned down to grab her bag. “With pleasure,” he said, taking Phoebe’s hand in his unoccupied one and leaving the premises.

Chapter Eighteen

Shangri-La Hotel, Paris

The eight-hour flight and six-hour time difference from Chicago to Paris placed Quentin and Phoebe in the middle of the afternoon on New Year’s Eve. Arriving at the Shangri-La Hotel, the couple was met with top-hatted doormen who jovially took their bags and showed them to their suite. Upon reaching the large rooftop terrace, Phoebe was taken away by the panoramic views of the Eiffel Tower. It sat immensely large and so close it seemed only a touch away.

“This is so beautiful,” she said, holding a hand over her heart at the breathtaking scenery.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Quentin said, approaching her from behind to wrap Phoebe in his arms.

“Surely, you’ve seen this view before to know it was here,” she said, still astonished by the sights of the metal structure.

“I wasn’t referring to the tower, my lady love.”

Quentin pushed a hot kiss against Phoebe’s cheek, and a tickle of warmth ran down her neck. Phoebe cranked her head up to peer at him through smitten eyes.

“Oh,” she said, flattered by his insinuation.

“Would you like to have lunch out here? The weather is calming enough that we could enjoy a meal without being rushed inside by the breeze.”

“Yeah, this is nothing like Chicago’s windy city.”

“Paris is a world away,” he said, pushing another kiss into her neck and trailing up to her ear.

Phoebe shivered from the heat of his mouth, and she turned full circle in his arms. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of your touch,” she quipped.

“Ever?” he asked.

Phoebe shook her head slowly. “Ever.”

Quentin held her tight and kissed her lips, filling her mouth with the caress of his soft tongue.

“Mmmm,” Phoebe said.

“Or we could skip lunch and…” Quentin implied.

Phoebe’s eyes rose with a flare of sensuality as his tongue continued to explore her mouth as if he’d never tasted her before.

“Or we could mix lunch with a little love in the afternoon before we go shopping.”

Pulling back, Quentin smiled. “Whaaaa,” he said, “Phoebe Alexandria Rose wants to spend money?”

Phoebe smiled delightedly. “Your money, silly, not mine.”

A deep thunderous laughed chortled from Quentin’s throat, sending a vibration wrecking Phoebe’s nervous system.

“Of course,” he drawled. “I wouldn’t dare suggest otherwise,” he said, amused at her sass. “What are you in the mood for, sweetheart?”

“Hmm, something light maybe, veal ragout.”

“The lady knows her dishes,” Quentin said, twirling her underneath his arm as they strolled back into the opulence of the grand luxury hotel suite.

Veal ragout was the quintessential French cuisine. The mixture of veal stew meat and chopped parsley, tomato sauce, and finely chopped celery stalks made for a simple yet fulfilling dish.

Quentin strolled to the phone while Phoebe removed the coat she’d worn on the jet ride over. She peeled her heels off with her feet and sauntered to the bathroom. The cold marble floor comforted her warm toes as she slipped across the large lavatory to the sink. Taking an eye over her appearance to make sure her light foundation was still immaculate, Phoebe smiled, satisfied that the hustle from the airport to the hotel had kept her mane intact as well. She slipped a hand in her curls and decided right then that she would straighten her tresses for tonight. In order to do that she would have to make this shopping trip quick. It would be easy to get lost in the French malls and shopping centers, and although her celebrity stretched overseas, it was simple to hide in the sea of other famous faces, especially on a night like this.

Turning to the side to catch a glimpse of her waistline and derriere, Phoebe pursed her lips as she held in her belly and poked out her butt. It wasn’t as if she needed to lose weight, her curvy thighs and flat midsection sat with a perfect mixture of angles. But it didn’t stop her from wondering if she should shed a few pounds. Leaving the sanctuary, Phoebe sashayed back into the bedroom, padding across the plush carpet in search of Quentin. She found him with the French doors to the patio open setting the table with an intimate display of wine flutes, expensive china, and rose petals littering the surface. A bottle of champagne sat on ice, and a small golden box wrapped with a red gift bow sat on one side of the table.

Phoebe smiled inwardly and couldn’t help but wonder what was inside the present. Usually, whenever she was awarded a gift, Phoebe would hurry to open it, but at the moment, all she could focus on was the towering structure of Quentin’s tone build. His physique was so thoroughly ripped that the bulge in his arms waved through the cotton material of his sweater. As her eyes roamed over him, they took in the fitness of his broad chest, thin waist and taut ass. The jeans covering his magnificence kissed his muscled thighs, and Phoebe was sure the denim wouldn’t look as roguishly sexy on any other man the way it did on Quentin.

When she made it to his feet, Phoebe noticed he, too, had shed his shoes, opting to leave his pedicured feet bare as he worked around the table. A thought crossed her mind and she wondered how Quentin would feel if their feet mingled underneath the table. Phoebe bit her lip as a trace of heat saturated her thinking about the simple, yet intimate dance of their toes. Coming out of her reverie, Phoebe breathed a dreamy sigh and sauntered onto the balcony.

“For me?” she said, gaining a closer look at his arrangement.

“Oui, ma dulcinée,” he responded.

Phoebe raised a surprised brow. As long as she’d known Quentin, she’d never heard him speak another language. And although she and her sisters and brothers were fluent in several lingos, it didn’t cross Phoebe’s mind that Quentin would also pick up on some of their studies. It surprised and filled her with a deprivation that had nothing to do with food.

“You know, my lady love sounds so much better in French,” she said.

Quentin’s deep grumbling laughter seared her loins. She’d never felt so turned on and completely set on fire by another human until she neared Quentin. The mere fact that she’d attacked him early in the month at his gym, jumping into his arms like she was a freaky vixen was proof in itself that she had no control over the way her body responded to his imminence, or the way she vibrated from his touch. Or the way her pussy thumped when they kissed. The riveting energy was shocking to her core in the most splendid way.

Quentin pulled out her seat, and Phoebe sat down as he adjusted her chair against the table. A knock on the door sounded before Quentin could claim his seat, and it was just as well since, he knew it must have been room service.

“Good timing,” Quentin said when the door opened. “Follow me.”

The server pushed the cart inside and trailed Quentin across the massive expanse of the suite to the balcony where Phoebe waited patiently. One by one, the server removed the dish tops while announcing their food. Steam rose from the freshly prepared stew, and Phoebe’s stomach rumbled just looking at the cuisine.

“Thank you, sir,” Quentin said.

“Would you like me to set your tables, monsieur?” the server asked.

“I think I can take it from here,” Quentin responded.

“As you wish,” the server dipped his head into a slight bow and turned to Phoebe, “Mademoiselle,” greeting her and saying goodbye at the same time.

The server turned to leave the room, and Quentin followed him to the door. As the server crossed the threshold, Quentin offered him a fifty-dollar tip.

“For your troubles,” Quentin said.

“Ah, thank you, sir, but it’s no trouble at all, I aim to please.”

“Which we appreciate, have a good day.”

Returning to the balcony, it was now Quentin who watched Phoebe add their lunch to their china. “I would’ve taken care of that for you,” he said, claiming his seat.

“You set the table, right?”

Quentin tilted his head in a nod.

“Then you’re good, babe, I think I can handle this part.”

Quentin’s gaze roamed over her chocolate covered skin that spanned down her neck and hid inside the long sleeve cardigan sweater she wore.

“So I was wondering,” Phoebe started, bringing Quentin’s attention from her plump breasts to her luscious lips. Phoebe sat and readjusted her seat, then crossed her legs. “Did you plan the whole thing with the game?”

Quentin’s brows knocked together as he thought.

“I mean,” Phoebe reiterated, “did you purposefully take me to see the Bulls to out us as a couple?”

“To out us?” Quentin questioned.

“I know it sounds ridiculous putting it that way, but I just thought there could’ve been other places we could have gone that would’ve been far less attractive for media outlets.”

“Would you rather I have taken you someplace quieter?”

“No, not necessarily.” Phoebe shrugged. “Just wondering I guess.”

“Are you embarrassed to be on the arm of Chicago’s most notorious playboy?” Quentin pushed on.

It was the same thing Phil Grayson had said. It was the same words that had been splashed across the front pages of the newspaper. Phoebe vividly remembered the headline and start of one particular story, the one Quentin had texted to her.

Chicago’s Most Notorious Playboy Dating America’s Sweetheart

Quentin Davidson, the city’s most notorious playboy adds yet another notch to his belt with America’s sweetheart Phoebe Alexandria Rose, shocking Chicago’s elite. The kiss they shared at last night’s Chicago Bulls game was epic and sizzled everyone who witnessed it right down to the bone.

“No,” Phoebe stumbled, “of course not.” She pressed her lips together as Quentin’s lazy grin grew.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve been called worse things,” he drawled.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Quentin decided to cut her some slack. “Of course, I knew going to the game would put us in front of the headlines, but I didn’t see any reason to try and hide it. We’re together, it’s as simple as that. I don’t care who knows about it or who has a problem with it.”

That much was clear from the way he’d sucked in her mouth in front of possibly millions of viewers. Phoebe sat back, content in his assurance. Her eyes dropped to the gift sitting in front of her.

“Open it,” Quentin said.

Phoebe smiled gracefully. “Don’t mind if I do,” she said, lifting the small box in her hands. The silk material sat cool in her palm as she made a show of fumbling with the bow to open it. Quentin chuckled, knowing Phoebe was always the kid to rip open presents during Christmas.

Pulling the top off revealed a vintage brass key. Phoebe took her eyes to Quentin. “Is this what I think it is?”

Quentin’s quirky smile drew her in, and a flutter of emotions ran through Phoebe.

“Depends on what you think it is,” Quentin teased.

“Okay for the sake of the theatrics, just tell me,” she said impatiently.

“But you know the answer to your question, so why don’t you tell me,” he said.

Phoebe glanced back down at the brass key. She knew Quentin was a collector of vintage items, including but not limited to his old school cars and art canvas, but also his vintage condo.

“Your home?”

Quentin’s smile reached his eyes as he watched Phoebe’s glaze over.

“I want you to be comfortable on the arm of this notorious playboy,” he teased, “so yes, this is a key to my front door. It’s yours to do what you will with it.”

Phoebe sat in silence for a moment, watching him as her thoughts battled, and her heart rate increased. She tried to gather herself as emotions she’d never known washed over her. For Quentin to give up a key to his front door was epic according to her brothers, the media, and anyone else who were aware of his bachelor lifestyle. But for Phoebe, it warmed her heart and solidified a lingering albeit quiet question: was he serious about her or was this something he would move past quickly?

“You’re serious,” she said as if answering her own question. Quickly, she cut back in. “That wasn’t really a question.” She smiled, still in shock at what most people would feel wasn’t that big of a deal.

Quentin sat forward. “You seem surprised,” he said. “I’ve given you a key to my place before.”

“On my eighteenth birthday,” she whispered, remembering when she’d received the gift. At the time she’d been confused but Quentin had elaborated that if she ever got lost in this big old world, she could always find peace at his place. He’d only been twenty-two, but by that time, Quentin had become so protective of Phoebe that he didn’t see any reason not to give her the gift.

“I never used it,” she said as if speaking to herself.

“I always wondered why.”

Phoebe searched for an excuse. “Um, well, I guess I never thought you really wanted me to show up. That you were just being nice,” she said. Although she’d had several dreams of spending the night at his place, going out for a leisurely stroll, and dining at the finest restaurants as Quentin’s new love. “I didn’t want to come over, and you had someone there, you know.”

Phoebe removed the vintage key from the box and rubbed her thumb over it. It wasn’t a wedding ring, but it was still symbolic in a way only they would understand.

“To give you a key then invite someone over when you could walk in on us is just rude,” Quentin said. “Is that what you think of me?”

“No,” her brows crunched. “I mean, well, maybe then, we were both young so.” Phoebe shrugged.

“But now you don’t?”

“No,” she smiled, “I don’t. Thank you, Quentin.”

She stood and leaned over the table as he met her halfway for a delectable kiss. “Mmmm,” she moaned just as Quentin’s dick lurched in his pants. He grabbed her jaw and swallowed her tongue as a sting of energy shot to his groin. When their mouths departed, it was with sheer strength from Quentin. But Phoebe didn’t move, holding her balance in place as she continued to lean across the table. “I want more,” she practically panted.

Quentin gave her a quick kiss and moved away, settling back in his seat. Phoebe quirked up an eye at him. “If I give you more, a simple kiss would never do. More for me is…” he took a wicked eye over her statuesque frame then moved back to her lush lips. “More…” he cruised.

Phoebe shivered at his implication and slowly sat back in her seat. She wanted more of Quentin for sure, but she was well aware if they started now, they’d most likely never leave the room.

“There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

This raised another arched brow from Phoebe, and her smile was belated. “Where?” she asked like a kid on Christmas.

“When we’re done with lunch,” he promised.

Phoebe sat back, fond and excited about whatever Quentin had in store. Deciding to make a move, they prayed over their dish and ate in silence while taking in the beautiful views of the Eiffel Tower and its surroundings.

“You really couldn’t have picked a more perfect location to see this tower,” Phoebe said, dabbing the corners of her mouth.

“Hmm,” Quentin nodded also emptying his plate. “I hoped you would love to be this close.”

“I do,” she said.

The two words cuddled around Quentin’s heart and sank into his bloodstream, causing him to shift in his seat from the sincerity and affection behind them. It was a simple response but held much more meaning to Quentin. He gazed sharply at Phoebe, imagining her wrapped like a present just for him in a bridal gown that hugged her beautiful body. His thoughts ventured further into their honeymoon night where he would take his time with her only to fuck her brains out later. His dick moved again, and it further warmed his blood. He’d saw it all like it was a premonition of his future, and yet there were still a few things he needed to clear up before he could move close to taking a humungous step such as that.

“This was good,” Phoebe said with a yawn leaving her mouth.

“You ready for a nap?” Quentin said, implying something other than sleep.

Phoebe’s musical laugh sent a population of chills settling over his skin. It was amazing how she not only turned him on but did strange things to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Phoebe heard his implication. “First,” she said, “I want to see this thing you want me to see, then we shop, then maybe we…” she shrugged with a giggle on her lips.

Quentin leaned in and swiped his mouth with his tongue. “Later, I was thinking maybe we could bring in the new year at this masquerade ball.”

Phoebe perked up. “That sounds like tons of fun,” she said.

“Would you like that?”

“Yeah, let’s do it, baby.”

Chapter Nineteen

Phoebe rose to her feet, and Quentin stood with her. They left the terrace strolling back into the front room where they retrieved their coats and left the suite. With a mild breeze in the air, the cool temperatures were a welcome change to Chicago’s turbulent winds and chilly atmosphere. A limo sat waiting for the couple as they meandered out to the front of the building. The hotel wasn’t lacking in personnel as the employees milled about helping other guests who were mostly checking in, in the hopes to see the Eiffel Tower light up once the clock struck midnight.

Getting comfortable inside the limo, Phoebe rested against Quentin’s broad chest as they were chauffeured around town. The grandiose of Paris was a serene beauty, holding a contemporary and notable blend of landmarks. The romantic city provided no shortage of picturesque views. Each avenue accommodated the wide tree-lines, and outstanding sights. Estates, gardens and exhibition halls stood on virtually every turn. Architectural structures were also a beauty of the city as they pronounced the cities elegance with on every corner. When the limo pulled to the curve at Carrousel du Louvre, Phoebe turned to Quentin to kiss his lips. She made sure to make it quick since she was well aware of the danger they could get into if she lingered too long. Realistically, Phoebe adored the thought of being prey to Quentin, and soon he would find out just how much.

Quentin and Phoebe exited the limo and strolled hand in hand inside the underground shopping center. It was brimming with rambunctious activity as travelers, citizens, and the like milled about in search of last-minute items and preparations for the New Year. Entering Barneys, Phoebe patted Quentin on his arm with a promise.

“I won’t spend too much of your money,” she teased.

Quentin kissed the side of her forehead. “I’m not worried.”

“Hmm,” Phoebe murmured. “You may take that back when I’m done.”

Quentin chuckled. “I doubt that very seriously.”

They strolled through the store. “I don’t know if you’ve ever dated a high maintenance girl like me,” she continued to tease.

Quentin just laughed. It was funny to him that she set out to make him think she could spend his fortune in one store. Besides that, Phoebe must have forgotten that Quentin knew her inside and out. He could guess how much money she would spend since she had a knack for adding things up in her head and justifying whether it was worth the price. Not many multimillionaire women would think twice about it, but Phoebe Alexandria Rose was the exception.

“Go ahead,” he humored her, “do your worst, baby girl.” Quentin leaned in and pushed a kiss against her forehead then turned to leave.

“Wait, where are you going, babe?”

He offered her a bemused grin. “Not far,” he said, “I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

Phoebe blushed and batted her lashes. “I miss you already.”

Quentin’s smile grew even further, and he stepped back into her space, pulling her in by her waist. “Then I’ll stay,” he said.

A shiver fell over Phoebe as she stared into his dark onyx eyes. “It’s okay, go on and do what you were going to. I’ll be here.”

Quentin sank his palm against her face, slipping his hand into her hair. With his other wrapped around her, Quentin pulled her lips to hover right below his. “I promise to be back quickly. I wouldn’t dare leave you unaccompanied for too long. Some guy could try and steal you away. Then Paris would have their first brawl at Carrousel du Louvre. Can you see the headlines? Quentin Davidson of Chicago Illinois, knocks a man unconscious for coming too close to his lady love.”

Phoebe giggled.

“Then I supposed you better get back then.” She stuck her tongue out and pretended to lick up his lips, missing his mouth by a breath.

An inundation of warmth seized Quentin and his eyes darkened furthermore. “You shouldn’t tease me in public,” he said. “Sometimes, I can be instinctual.” He let his words sink in.

A ball of nerves shot down between Phoebe’s thighs and rested against her labia. She tilted on her toes as he leaned and their mouths joined.

“Stop,” Quentin warned. It was an interesting caution coming from him as he continued to kiss her.

“After you…” Phoebe breathed.

His hand left her hair and flew to her jaw. Slowly, he peeled off of her while simultaneously sucking in a breath. That one had almost gotten away from him. It was why he’d beckoned Phoebe with the gesture first. Quentin’s ability to take things slow with her whether it was sex or otherwise was becoming a losing battle.

“Go,” Phoebe said.

Quentin kissed her forehead then turned and left the store. His thoughts flew as he thought about what was happening here. Phoebe, his long-term friend, and now lover was pulling his heart strings. He’d longed for her before but what he was feeling lately was insoluble. Connecting with her on an intellectual basis was one thing, but their physical connection was something entirely different. She’d waited for him, and Quentin had no idea that he was someone Phoebe had grown to yearn for.

It tripped him out and made him feel a jubilant emotion of something he had no experience with. Marriage had never been on his radar before. It was something Quentin still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about now, even as his footsteps took him down the hall and up a short escalator to Zales. Quentin entered the store but stood by its entrance. He’d only been in the jewelry retailer once when a gift was in order for his mother’s birthday. Now the diamond store held a completely new meaning and it gave off an extra flutter in his chest and caused his heart to pick up an extra beat.

Back in Barneys, Phoebe strolled around the store in a semi daze as she grabbed a few things for tonight. An hour slipped into two as she pranced around the establishment with heavy thoughts on her mind. Just weeks ago, Phoebe had wondered what her New Year would look like and now she smiled thinking of the sudden shift the road before her was taking. Even as she grabbed the last item she wanted and sauntered to the register, she mused over being in a relationship with Quentin. As she pulled out her credit card to make her purchase, a shadow covered her, and deep grooving vocals tickled her ear drum.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Quentin asked.

Phoebe sucked in a breath, and ripple of heat fell over her. “I was getting ready to pay for my things.”

He tisked. “That wasn’t the agreement.” His lips hovered just above her ear, and the heat from them caused Phoebe to squirm, and her pulse quickened.

“I thought you were gone,” she half panted.

The cashier rang them up and Quentin reached for her bags then slipped his hand inside hers.

“That means you’re supposed to wait for me. Not swipe your card. Didn’t I tell you I was taking care of you?”

They strolled hand and hand out the door. “I kind of told you I was spending your money.” She laughed, and he smirked. “I was just kidding though.”

Quentin held her with a raised brow. “But I wasn’t.” He tucked her arm between his, and they exited the shopping center and climbed into the awaiting limo. Quentin casually draped an arm across Phoebe’s shoulders, and they rode to their next destination.

“Have you ever seen the way the sky lights up a pink gray hue when the sun sets?” he asked.

“Pink and gray? I can’t say that I have.”

“I know the perfect spot for us to catch it,” he whispered, pulling her in to kiss her forehead.

“Sounds delightful.”

As they rode, Phoebe rested in the strength of his arms, the beat of his heart and the warmth of his solid body. The limo pulled to a stop right outside Pont de l’Archevêché bridge, and Quentin and Phoebe slipped out. They strolled with their fingers tightly bonded to the middle of the bridge just as the sky fell. A crackling of soft grays from the clouds and pink filling from the retreating sun mixed across the heavens.

“Wow,” Phoebe said, “this is beautiful.” She leaned into Quentin, and he pulled her close while producing another gift box, this time wrapped in a silver bow. Phoebe’s eyes rose in surprise and glanced at him then back to the box. “Another gift?”

Quentin smiled slowly as Phoebe took the box from his hand. She hurriedly removed the bow with a bright smile, excited about what he could be giving her next. She popped the top and look back at him with a curious stare.

“Another key?” she said, trying to figure out what this one could possibly unlock.

It was then that Quentin produced a golden lock. Unbeknownst to Phoebe, it was 18 carat gold along with the key in her hand.

“This key opens this lock that symbolizes my love for you,” he said.

Phoebe’s heart warmed, and she gasped. “Quentin…”

Quentin reached in his coat pocket and retrieved a magic marker. With it, he inscribed his autograph across the metal safe then handed it over to her. With tear-stained eyes, Phoebe accepted the marker and also scribbled her name across the lock right underneath his.

“And now,” his deep voice grooved, “we seal our fate.” He snapped the lock shut around the metal frame of the bridge then turned to her. “If it is your will, you can toss that key overboard.”

Phoebe’s heart thumped so hard she thought it would beat out of her chest. “Why would I do that?”

The tradition says you toss the key so there is no possible way to break the bond of our love.”

“This is the love locks bridge,” she asked, just now realizing it. “I thought they took down the locks and changed this bridge so it couldn’t be done again.”

“They did, but I called in a favor.”

Phoebe reared her head back. “You called in a favor?” she echoed. “Who would grant you something as extraordinary as this?”

Quentin winked and tugged her nose. “The specifics aren’t really that necessary, are they?” his voice grooved.

Phoebe pushed her lips out and peered at him before taking her hands off her hips and tossing them around his waist as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“This is beautiful, babe,” she crooned. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Quentin kissed her forehead. “There’s more in store for us tonight. I think you’ll love our new year’s destination.”

Phoebe moaned, snuggling further into his embrace. “Didn’t you know,” she said, “nothing could be better than this.”

A blanket of warmth tussled around them in the disguise of the wind, and they held together, stable and planted against one another.

“Can we stay here for a while?” Phoebe asked.

“We can do whatever you would like to.”

Phoebe sighed. “You’re going to spoil me. Consider this your only warning.” A teasing laugh escaped her, and Quentin chuckled.

“A warning?” he said. “Like the one I gave you back at Barneys to which you ignored?”

Phoebe turned her face into Quentin’s chest and giggled. “I couldn’t help myself,” she said. “Your kiss is absolutely incredible.” Phoebe pulled her face from his chest and turned up her chin to look at him.

Gazing back with a dark penetrating stare, Quentin responded, “I could’ve very well pulled you to the nearest dressing room and taken advantage of you. Then what?”

Heat simmered straight to Phoebe’s nipples and her areolas tightened into nubs. “We would’ve gotten caught,” she said. “There’s nothing you could’ve done to keep me quiet.”

“And yet you didn’t heed to my warning.”

“I took a gamble,” she said with a shrug.

“Hmm,” he said, “I guess it’s a good thing I keep my iron clad strength on reserve then.”

Phoebe giggled again and buried her head back into his chest. They stood there on the bridge for another hour before she turned and leaned against the railing tossing the key overboard. Phoebe sighed, contented and Quentin pulled her in placing a kiss on her forehead. Deciding they could leave, Phoebe grabbed Quentin’s hand and they strolled back to the limo with their fingers linked. But as they got closer, Phoebe sauntered out to take a glance at the other side. When a tickle of chills cruised up her fingers, she turned back sharply and was caught up in the undertow of his gaze. His fingers continued to dance against hers and more chills fled Phoebe’s skin. She stepped back to him and tightened their connection just as they’d made it to the limo.

The drive across town was euphorically silent with Quentin pondering on the plans he’d made for tonight and Phoebe thinking of her own. When Quentin had mentioned a masquerade ball earlier, Phoebe had been excited thinking about the intrigue in attending an event like that to bring in the new year. However, while at Barneys, a naughty thought had crossed her mind and no matter how hard she tried, Phoebe couldn’t shake it. They pulled up to the Shangri-La Hotel, and left the comfort of the limo for the now chilly temperatures that surrounded the city. After the sunset, Paris’ temperature had dropped, making for a cool night on the town.

Again, Phoebe and Quentin linked fingers as they made it to the elevators that took them to their suite. After Quentin opened the door, Phoebe took a step inside when he tugged her hand, causing her to glance back.

“I was thinking,” he began, “there’s something I need to put last-minute touches on for our New Year celebration, which means I need to leave you alone for just a minute.” He pulled her soft hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“A minute as in sixty seconds?”

Quentin chuckled. “Okay, an hour,” he said.

“Aww,” she groaned, and it tugged Quentin’s heart that she’d rather be beside him.

“I promise not to take too long,” he said.

Phoebe glanced at her watch. “It’s nine-thirty. You’re not going off to spend the New Year with your French girlfriend, are you?”

At Quentin’s frown, Phoebe laughed. “I’m just kidding,” she said, placing a hand against his face. “You know I would never believe that.”

Quentin wished he could agree with her, but unfortunately, he could only play it by ear. “Don’t play with me, girl,” he said.

“Hurry back,” she said.

They leaned in at the same time and kissed quickly. Quentin left the hotel within three minutes of their departure as the elevator stopped to pick up other occupants. The surprise he had for Phoebe had been something he’d always wanted to do for her, and this was the perfect time for it. He rode back the way they’d came with thoughts of loving her forever and the purchase he’d made at the mall balancing on his mind.

Chapter Twenty

At the hotel, Phoebe pulled the items out of her bag and took her eyes over the designer clothes. The more she tossed the idea she had around in her head, the more she wanted to put it in place. But Quentin had plans of his own, and right now he was out trying to make sure whatever it was, was perfect. But as the naughty thought continued to swirl, Phoebe trudged over to the phone and dialed the front desk.

“Shangri-La Hotel, how can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am, this is Phoebe Alexandria, I’m in the penthouse suite and need a few men to come help me move around some furniture. Nothing major, I assure you.”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Rose, I’ll send someone up right away.”

“Thank you.”

Phoebe dropped the phone on its base and strolled to the patio doors. When she opened them, a gust of wind flew inside, and from where she stood, the Eiffel Tower sat with blinking lights as it prepared for what she was sure would be a magnificent light display.

Back across the room, Phoebe took her clothes to the bathroom and pulled out everything she would need for tonight’s performance. When a knock came at the door, she smiled and left the lavatory to let in her handy men.

“Good evening,” she said.

“Good evening to you, madam. We we’re told you needed some help rearranging furniture?”

“Yes, if you’ll follow me.”

The two men entered the room dressed down in the hotel’s signature uniform.

“I’d like this moved to the terrace and the table on the terrace moved here.”

The men quickly worked, moving around Phoebe swiftly as she stood back with a demure smile on her face. It had taken them all of fifteen minutes to get both pieces of furniture moved along with a few other items she’d asked them to exchange. When they were done, Phoebe pulled out two one hundred-dollar bills and handed one to each of them.

“Thank you very kindly,” she said.

“You’re most welcome, mademoiselle,” they both chimed.

Phoebe followed them to the door and did a little jig once she’d closed it. Back in the sanctuary of the bathroom, Phoebe took a shower, making sure to lather herself extra careful so the scent of her peach body wash stuck to her skin.

“Mmm, this smells so good,” she said, standing under the shower for a rinse.

Excitement bubbled through her bones, and she strutted to the sink and picked up her phone. It was 11 p.m., and time had certainly been moving. A text message icon sat at the top of her screen from Quentin. She opened it and read.

I misjudged the time this would take. Forgive me, I’ll be there in a blink.

That was five minutes ago, and Phoebe wasn’t ready. Shit. “Okay, girl, get it together,” she said, taking her eye over her image in the mirror.

As quickly as possible, Phoebe moved, applying a peach nectar to her skin for a brilliant shine. She slipped into her garments and re-brushed her teeth. She had been supremely careful with the shower, making sure not to get her hair wet. Deodorant, body spray, diamond earrings that hung from her lobes with a sparkle teased from underneath her straight shoulder length hair. Phoebe marched away from the sink to stand in front of a full-length mirror to check out her attire. She turned from side to side, then analyzed her derriere to make sure she was popping where she needed to be.

“Yesss, girl work,” she said, satisfied with her appearance.

The front door opened, and Quentin shuffled in but paused when he noticed the furniture repositioned.

“Phoebe?” he called, traipsing around the room to check out what else had been changed. “Phoebe,” his deep voice thundered.

The bathroom door opened, and Phoebe strutted out. She crossed the bedroom and casually strolled into the seating area were Quentin stood.

Quentin’s gaze left the rearranged furniture to glance over at Phoebe as she entered with a question on his tongue. “Sweetheart, what happened with the—”

His sentence died on his tongue as he swept his gaze over Phoebe’s bold attire, if you could call it that. Quentin started at her feet, immediately turned on by the six-inch spiked heels that covered her pedicured toes. Her cocoa brown legs looked like they were made of silk as the shine on them glistened, casting a golden-brown glow over the curves of them. It carried on to her curvaceous thighs and the apex of her center was covered in a see-through laced thong. Quentin’s nostrils flared as his midnight eyes sailed up her bare belly and the soft ripples in her midriff spoke to the training she’d kept up on her body.

Immediately, his blood boiled, and heat ballooned straight to his manhood. The coat he wore suddenly felt like he stood inside an oven as Quentin continued to drink up her erotic pose. Phoebe’s breasts sat full in a sheer lace shelf bra that exposed the cleavage around her breasts right down to the outer lining of her brown nipples. Thin straps covered her shoulders and the golden glow of her skin shone right up through her neck and face.

“I was hoping the plans you’ve made won’t be totally ruined if I changed them just a bit,” she purred.

Quentin whispered a curse, and Phoebe turned to the side and arched her back. Her hair bounced and teased her shoulders as she moved, and when she turned to glance back over them, Quentin had abandoned his spot and stalked across the room to stand beside her. Pivoting swiftly on her heels, Phoebe reached to unbutton his coat when Quentin sank his mouth into hers.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, peeling his coat of his shoulders to get closer to his chocolate skin.

His hands reached to grip a handful of her ass, and she yelped in his mouth. A devilish smile spread across his handsome face, and a wildlife mating call trekked from his throat. The sound was so wildly untamed that it knocked through Phoebe’s being and tightened her areolas. The grasp Quentin held her with brought Phoebe slightly off her feet and her crotch slid against ridges of his protruding shaft.

“Oooh my…” Phoebe said.

“Mmhmm,” he growled. “You think you want the beast in me, but you’re not ready…” his thick voice grooved.

The insinuation aroused Phoebe even further but also gave her a defiant stance as she felt challenged to take on whatever he dished out. She twirled in his arms and bounced her bottom on his pants before strolling across the room with hips bucking as she sashayed.

“You know what I think, Mr. Davidson,” her throaty voice crooned. Quentin matched her steps with no intent of letting Phoebe out of his sight. “I think,” she opened up the patio doors and stepped into the cool night air, twisting back to smirk at him. “That it’s fifteen minutes until midnight, and I want you to give me everything you think I can’t handle on this lounge.” With her back to him, Phoebe pulled her hands to the straps of her thong and slipped the panties over her hips. Putting on her best performance, she bent over, making sure Quentin received and eyeful of her peach while she pulled the sheer material down her legs. The lingerie hit her ankles, and she stepped out of them and swept them to the side.

Quentin had come out of all his clothes. The cool winter air all but forgotten as he watched Phoebe’s little sexy ass bend over the chaise lounge. The furniture was created with an arch, effectively lifting her bottom in the air while her legs lay leisurely down its curve.

Phoebe tossed her head back to look at him only to find him at the same time she felt him. “Oooooh!” she screeched as he spread her ass and sank his thick penis inside her vagina. “Jesus!” she hollered.

Quentin leaned over her shoulder and delved his lips into her shoulder blade.

“What was that you were saying about taking everything I wanted to give you?” he growled. Quentin’s hands trailed down her back, causing a path of chills to follow his direction to her buttocks. A direct slap with the palm of his hand caused Phoebe to yelp again and simultaneously he gripped her waist with a fierce clutch as he shoved albeit slowly deeper into her cavern.

Phoebe’s head fell back and a moan, long and sensual, curdled from her lips.

“Ooooooooh!” she hissed and sucked in a lungful of air as the ridges of his shaft dug so deep she could feel her gates instantly open. Her legs began to tremble, and the motion made Quentin abruptly pulled out. She hissed again, and he placed hot kisses down the back of her ear and neck. His hands skated up her belly, and his fingers tweaked her nipples.

“You can’t come,” he said, “until the clock strikes twelve.”

Phoebe whimpered and reached back for him, desperate to be connected again. Quentin slapped her derriere, and her soft bottom bounced off his palm.

“Sexy ass,” he said, seizing her waist to impale her once again with a long grinding stroke.

“Aaaah!” Phoebe shouted, and her hand clutched the furniture.

Quentin sank inside her wet cove, coating his shaft with her mounting crème. “Shiiit!” he cursed, slipping out, then in, then out again.

Phoebe mumbled as her walls continued to expand to accommodate his size. She shivered and writhed with pleasure as her body torched with each pump he took inside of her. With her buttocks tooted, Quentin made sure to go easy on Phoebe, but the wetness of her fountain and hotness of her core tasseled his nerves and sent him into overdrive. Without even trying, his hand slipped to her neck and clawed around her throat, sealing a minor chokehold on her esophagus. With expert precision, Quentin drove into her core and smacked her ass with his other hand. Phoebe scrambled to get away from him, but he held firm, driving inside her with deep, powerful plunges. The force of their sex was so solid and firm that she bounced off his dick hard and a wounded cry tore from her throat with each volatile thrust.

He released her neck, slipping his hand down her waist and she inhaled just as soon as he impaled her again. Phoebe’s breath caught in her throat as Quentin plundered her, tearing into her bottom with disastrous strokes. Digging, grinding, and thrusting. Finally, Phoebe found her voice long enough to bellow out a scream and brace herself for his next temerarious plunge.

“Fuck!” he shouted, and the furniture rocked and tilted off its legs to topple over. Phoebe shouted with pleasure and fear as their bodies smacked from their incessant sex and simultaneously moved toward the terrace ground. But all too swiftly, Quentin shifted, lifting Phoebe but remaining joined as the lounge collapsed on its side.

“Aaaaah!” Phoebe shouted, and Quentin held her waist. When Phoebe reached out for the edge of chaise, she gave Quentin a wide opening, and he took advantage, plundering into her pussy with the speed of a jackhammer. Phoebe arched her back and sang out loud with a combination of shouts, curses, and praises. Tears stung her eyes at the force of his attack, and it was so fearfully beautiful that her entire body shuddered and rocked, vibrating with the strength of a natural disaster.

Suddenly, nearby voices shouted out, and bells and whistles could be heard as the countdown to the new year had begun. Quentin’s hand slipped around Phoebe’s elongated neck, effectively pulling her to a partial stand as he continued to pump inside her heated core. His lips grazed her ear, and the heat from his mouth simmered down her flesh.

“Five… Four… Three… Two…” he breathed, and Phoebe came with a stringent wave that knocked her off balance and caused her to breakdown. She yelled, screamed even like a stricken animal left for dead. Quentin held on to her as they watched the Eiffel Tower light up in an array of colors signifying the new year.

Phoebe’s orgasm seeped down her legs, and Quentin whispered in her ear. “Happy New Year… my lady love.” With another driving force, he plunged, and she screamed, helpless to the unmerciful plummeting of his thrusts. With a swear driven oath, Quentin came inside Phoebe mixing their orgasms together in a rain shower of love.

Out of breath and unable to move, Phoebe hung limberly with Quentin holding her against him, their bodies scorched, and their nerves off the meter. For a second, Phoebe’s vision blurred before it came back into focus, and it was then that her thighs shook with spasms. Quentin leaned over her shoulder and swallowed her mouth while further stretching his member inside her. A startling gasp yelped from Phoebe, and Quentin swallowed the outcry with his tongue.

“You’re okay,” he said, sucking on her flimsy tongue as their breaths mixed together. “I’ve got you.”

Phoebe’s body continued to soar, and she knew right then that to experience a release of that magnitude had to be unprecedented. Sure, she didn’t have much experience, but it was uncanny to believe that what she’d shared with Quentin was second best. A silly thought crossed her mind, and she giggled just a bit feeling crazy and all out of sorts.

“What was that thought you just had there?” he asked.

Phoebe glanced back just as Quentin wrapped her up in his arms, severing the connection they held.

“Ah…” Phoebe moaned. An undulation of heat fell down her skin, and Quentin walked purposefully off the terrace with Phoebe in his arms to the bedroom. He laid Phoebe on her back and stared into her sultry eyes, and she smiled with a tipping curve of her lips. “I was just thinking,” she said dreamily, “there’s no wonder you can’t shake these women off of you. Why would you expect one to go away after loving them down like that?”

Quentin tilted his head to the side with a smirk. “Who says I’ve loved anyone down like that? I may not have been a virgin, but perhaps I was saving all my pent-up energy for you.”

Phoebe peered at him with a smirk of her own. “You really expect me to believe that?”

Confusion was cast over Quentin’s handsome features. “So you think I would tell the truth about some things and lie about others?”

Phoebe pursed her lips. “Of course not, I’m just saying. That sounds…”

“What?”

“Like something you would say just to be nice.”

Quentin frowned again. “But you know me. I’m not that guy.”

Phoebe slipped her hands up the side of his face and gripped his ears. Pulling him down, Quentin’s dreads tingled her shoulders as she puckered and exhaled when his lips sank into hers. Kissing Quentin was so fulfilling, and being with him completed her to a point where she desired to be with him forever.

It was amazing how they both held or save certain pleasures for the other, in case a time like this would actually occur. Quentin slipped his arms around her, and together they flipped over while at the same time, he entered her vagina with a grinding drive.

“Aaah ssss!” Phoebe sang as she straddled his powerful thighs, bracing her hands on the firmness of his ripped chest. “Aaah!” She moved up and down, grinding and rotating her hips, and her head fell back. Biting down on her lips, Phoebe moaned harshly, but it was caught in her throat.

With his hands digging into her waist, Quentin directed her, bucking his hips to make for a powerful connection. Phoebe opened her mouth wide and held her head back when a singing cry escaped her lips.

“Quentin…” she hissed as her vagina met the base of his shaft in shocking stabs of heat. “Fuck me, baby!” she squealed as he thrust to meet her peril pitfalls.

The effusion of heat that circled them raged like never before, and another cry fled from Phoebe as she came harder the second time around.

“Oh my God!” she squealed and bit down on her lip as an ocean of crème covered his chocolate shaft.

“I fucking love you, girl,” Quentin growled, reaching up to grip her neck and bring her down to him for a tongue-plunging kiss.

Tears stung Phoebe’s eyes once again. If she was on the edge before, his confession pushed her over, and now she had completely fallen in love with him. Her heart warmed, and her body shivered, and Quentin pumped into her refuge while they slopped each other down.

“Fuuu-ck!” he growled, tearing his mouth away to release the vicious swear. Quentin came inside her again, holding her tightly against his body as they showered each other with another breath-stealing release.

“Quentin! Quentin! Quentin…” Phoebe purred as she dropped onto him. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and starlight twinkles were exposed in her eyesight. Phoebe’s breathing was ragged, and she couldn’t seem to gain control of it.

For another long moment, Phoebe laid there splayed on top of Quentin. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I can’t move.”

Gruffly, he chuckled, and his hands skittered down her back, making her tremble more.

“That was incredible.” Phoebe’s fingers slipped up his rock-hard chest, and she lay her palm against his heart. Quietly, she listened to the rhythm and made a mental note to remember it. “I love you, too, Quentin,” she said. Her nose moved around his neck in circles as she breathed in his scent.

Quentin kissed her forehead, and together, they fell asleep, still connected, and completely sated.

Chapter Twenty-One

It was after 2 p.m. when Phoebe managed to pull herself from the comfortable duvet covers. Until around 10 a.m., she’d been able to lay under Quentin’s warm body, and it had been the absolute best sleep she’d had in her life. Phoebe was sure it had something to do with the exuberant amount of times they made love and the excessive foreplay they’d gotten into throughout the night. She smiled softly now as she blew on a hot cup of cappuccino while sitting in the back seat of their chauffeured car.

Phoebe had made sure to apologize to Quentin for ruining whatever plans he had for them going into the new year. But he’d side-eyed her and assured Phoebe that her plans were better than his on any day. She already knew that, but she laughed anyway and was happy he’d received her interruption with pleasure. However, being the lover of all things gifts, she’d decided she still wanted to know but instead of telling her, Quentin determined that it was still possible to give her a part of the surprise he had for her the night before. When the metal door opened, Quentin strolled out and buttoned his coat. His long legs brought him to her door in just a few strides.

Phoebe sipped her cappuccino as he pulled her door open. Bending down, he said, “Are you ready?”

Phoebe smiled delightedly. “Yes.” She took another sip of her caffeine then sat the cup in a holder.

With his hand held out, Quentin stepped back and helped Phoebe to her feet. He pulled her in and linked their arms together then strolled inside the building. Phoebe leaned slightly against him with a bluster of nervousness swirling inside her belly. A look at her blushing face and Quentin knew she was excited beyond measure. Always happy to receive a surprise.

The corridor they strolled down was brick layered, and it held the foundation of an ol’ school poetry club or concert hall. Black marble tile outlined the flooring, and a waft of sweet incense sat in the air. They turned a corner and stopped in front of an open door.

Quentin tapped lightly on the solid frame, and a voice quickly ushered them inside.

“Come on in, please,” a lady called.

Phoebe peered around the corner as they stepped inside the room.

“Good evening,” the woman approached. “You must be Phoebe.” She held her hand out, and Phoebe’s eyes lurched.

“Oh my God, Geri Halliwell!” Phoebe shrieked, tossing her arms out and pulling Geri Halliwell in for a hug.

Geri laughed and held Phoebe’s back as Phoebe stood star-struck and unable to hold in her excitement. Standing off to the side, Quentin watched Phoebe as she bubbled over and spoke enthusiastically to the fifth member of the Spice Girls’ original group. When Phoebe had thought the moment couldn’t get any better, the other original four members walked into the dressing room with smiles as they welcomed her to France and thanked her for being a long-time fan.

Quentin loved Phoebe’s beautiful smile, and his heart thumped as he continued to gaze on. Nothing in his life had ever felt so paramount than the weight of loving Phoebe and holding on to her forever. His mind shifted, and he thought back to his last conversation with Jordan.

“Are you saying you’ve found the woman you will marry? Are you saying, Quentin Davidson, that Phoebe’s the love of your life, and you plan to make her your wife? Because if you are, that’s a whole different scenario. Don’t get it twisted. None of us would be mad because of that. We would most likely welcome it. But let’s be honest here. You are not there, and you know it.”

Quentin’s mind shuffled. With the odds stacked against him, anyone else would set out to prove Jordan and his brothers wrong. But Quentin didn’t feel the need to prove anything to anyone other than Phoebe. And she had told him that she trusted him already. Knowing this settled his spirit and warmed his soul. It was a good thing, too, especially when thoughts of a lifetime were relentless as of late. What he would give to see Phoebe light up every time he produced a surprise, or see her eyes glaze over anytime they released together.

He’d been more reckless than ever before, sexing her down with no protection and no fucks given. His blood boiled, and his nerves jumped as excitement of a real future with her took hold of him. Where there was no pretending to just be friends, or playing the role of big brother, little sister, but just uninhibited love, emotion, and need as they sailed this road of life together. Eternally. A swelling in his chest locked him down, and for the reminder of the day, Quentin had found himself lost in space.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Phoebe asked later as they sat across from each other in an French restaurant.

Quentin cleared his throat. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “What was your question?”

Phoebe frowned slightly. “Are you sure? You would tell me if anything was wrong, right?”

Quentin reached across the table and covered her hand with his own. “I promise you, everything is fine. I haven’t lied to you before. I won’t start now.”

Phoebe combed her eyes over him and decided he was telling the truth. “I wish we could stay in Paris a little while longer. It’s been so blissful here.”

Quentin agreed with a nod. “It’s been the best trip I’ve taken,” he said.

Phoebe smiled coyly. “Me, too.”

Their eyes met and held, and they exhaled simultaneously.

“Look on the bright side, we can come back as soon as your caseload decreases. My schedule is pretty flexible.”

“Ha, if only,” she said. “As you know Rose and Garnett LLC is the highest rated and most sought-after firm. Our client list is large enough to share with independent firms across the nation and still we would have to refer some to others.”

“That’s a good problem to have.”

Phoebe grinned. “Yeah.”

Something in her voice caught him. “You love your career, this I know for sure. So what’s up, sweetheart?”

Phoebe silently mused over her thoughts. Her family was important to her, but dating Quentin had seemed to split them down the middle. Thinking of going back home where there would be more sideways glances or silent treatment, specifically from Jonathon, saddened her.

“My lady love,” Quentin penetrated her thoughts, “tell me what’s wrong.”

Phoebe sighed. “I just wish things didn’t have to be so by the books, you know?”

Quentin’s forehead creased as he frowned. “I’m not sure if you mean the law or something else.”

Phoebe smirked. She had just changed the subject on him. “I’m talking about this ridiculous guy code you and my brothers have.” She dabbed at the corner of her lips and took a sip of her ice water.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Phoebe stared into his eyes. “You didn’t know at the time you’d fall hopelessly in love with me,” she teased.

Quentin chuckled. “Actually, I did.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, and a flurry of chills spread over her.

“What do you mean?”

Quentin let out a deep breath. “I’d always assumed that me being so protective over you throughout your youth and as we grew into adults was because your brothers were my best friends, and it was my duty to help protect you.” He sighed. “And it was my intentions in the beginning, but…”

Phoebe held on to his words, waiting for him to finish as her heart beat enthusiastically in her chest.

“I grew to love you. It happened sooner than I’d realized. When I first recognized it, I tried like hell to deny it. I even went as far as to stop coming around you guys for a spell.”

Phoebe’s lips parted. “That’s when no one heard from you for about a year,” she said, recognizing the distance between them during her early adult years.

Quentin smirked. “I called myself trying to break through the ridiculous fantasy that one day you would grow to love me. Can you believe that? Chicago’s most notorious playboy.

“Truth is, none of those women could satisfy the thirst I had. Because it belonged to you.” He sighed again. “And now I’ve managed to piss off my best friends.” The laugh that came from his mouth didn’t hold a comical note. “I know that’s something you’re worried about. And like I said before, I’m sorry to have caused this disruption in your life.”

“Quentin.” Phoebe’s eyes watered. She had cried a lot lately, and she didn’t know if it was because she was a sap or being with Quentin just made her heart melt that much. “Don’t ever apologize for opening up to me and loving me. I love you, too, babe, and you know without a doubt that I’ve always had my eye on you. So it looks like we have something in common.” Phoebe thought again. “Maybe we should sit down and have a conversation with them. Cordially.”

At Quentin’s raised brow, Phoebe continued. “I know the last meeting didn’t go so well, but it was unplanned and knocked a few of their socks off. This time, we’ll meet at my father’s house. I can set it up.”

“No,” Quentin said, “I’ll set it up.”

Phoebe watched him for another second.

“You don’t have to,” she started.

“But I want to.”

And not only did he want to, but it was also his duty to make sure all was well between them. If not for the sake of his long-term brotherhood, then for the sake of Phoebe and the rift that would only get bigger the more he ignored it.

Their conversation settled back into a comfortable one, with Phoebe questioning how he was able to get backstage passes for The Spice Girls New Year’s Eve celebration. Quentin had adverted her question. Giving her enough to satisfy her inquiry. What Phoebe didn’t seem to understand was that Quentin’s mission throughout life had been to give her everything she wanted, and from the very first time she’d cried when the group broke up, he’d vowed to find a way to get them together.

It was only fate that The Spice Girls would be performing in Paris while they were there, but he’d pulled out all the strings to get exclusive passes. Phoebe had apologized to the moon about missing the concert, which she would’ve been on stage to watch up close and personal had they been there. But Quentin paid it no never mind. She’d still gotten a chance to meet them, and he was happy about that.

On the flight home Phoebe had slept in Quentin’s arms while his thoughts had whirled with the conversation he would have with her family. Phoebe had explained that her last conversation with Jordan was thoroughly different from his. It didn’t surprise him that the guys saw their mother in Phoebe, Eden, and Jasmine. Nor did he need a reason why they were so protective of them. What did take him back was Jordan’s defense of him against Phil Grayson. After everything that had went down, Quentin was certain none of them had any faith in his ability to be monogamist and hold things together.

When they’d touched down in Chicago, and he and Phoebe had departed, the first phone call he made was to Phoebe’s father.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” Norma chimed when she answered the phone.

Norma Rodriguez was the wife of Phoebe’s father, Christopher Lee Rose. They were newlyweds, just getting married on Christmas.

“Good afternoon,” Quentin responded. “This is Quentin Davidson, how are you today, Mrs. Rose?”

“Oh, just call me Norma,” the senior woman said. “Nothing’s changed but my name,” she said. “How are you, Quentin?”

“I’m doing just fine. How was your New Year?”

“Oh it was great, I hate that you missed it. You know we had the party at Chandler Center. Mostly everyone was there, except for you, Phoebe, and Jordan. By any chance were you three together?”

“Phoebe and I were together. I can’t speak for Jordan’s whereabouts.”

“Hmm, probably with Selena,” she mumbled. “Anyway, would you like to speak with Christopher?”

“Yes, I would, thank you.”

“Just a moment.”

Norma disappeared from the line, and Quentin cleared his throat. Standing in the office of his fitness center headquarters, Quentin tugged at his tie and undid the first two buttons on his shirt as he stared out the window to the street below. Cars passed going about their usual day and sunny skies and strong winds greeted the city of Chicago.

“Hello,” a deep voice barked into the phone.

“Mr. Rose,” Quentin began.

“Good afternoon, Quentin. How are you, son?”

“I’m better than ever,” he responded.

“And your New Year?”

“The best,” Quentin quipped.

“And my daughter?” Christopher asked. The phone fell silent, and the question prompted Quentin to move into the conversation.

“From what she tells me, she’s happy.”

“What does she show you?” Christopher inquired.

Quentin cleared his throat again. Talking to Christopher Lee didn’t usually hold discomfort. Although he had a mother and father of his own, Quentin had grown to love Christopher like he was also his father.

“She’s happy,” Quentin said. “Phoebe and I would like to talk to you and your family in person.”

“My family,” Christopher ruffed out. “I thought my family was your family. Why the specifics?”

Quentin released a long breath. Christopher wouldn’t make this easy for him, and he didn’t expect anything less.

“I was,” Quentin said then stumbled back, “I am. I figured in this instance, specifics were required. Sir, I want nothing but the best for Phoebe—”

“And you think the best is you?” Christopher cut in.

“I do,” Quentin said with firmness.

“Okay,” Christopher said. “When would you and Phoebe like to have this conversation?”

“I know everyone has their own schedule, so I’m thinking Friday. If that’s still too soon, we’ll find another date.”

“Friday’s fine, son,” Christopher said with finality. “I’ll make sure they’re all here.

“Thank you. See you then.”

“Goodbye.”

Quentin sat the phone on his desk and slipped his hands inside his pockets with eyes cast out the window. Thoughts of Phoebe and their departure this morning slipped through his mind. The entire time they’d been in France, Phoebe’s phone had been powered off and Quentin hadn’t had a clue. As soon as she powered it back on, Phoebe had been hit with thirty voicemails and a few text messages from Jordan.

Apparently, one of their high-profile clients had had too much to drink on New Year’s Eve and been caught with his pants down with a woman other than his wife. Since that time, which had only been about seventy-two hours, more women had come forward accusing the political member of having sex with them even in public places. The scandal had started the New Year off with a bang, and Phoebe had gone straight to the office.

Quentin would wait until she reached out to him before bothering her. But in the meantime, he retrieved the phone and dialed his mother. The line rang out almost to an end before she answered.

“Hey, baby,” she cooed.

Quentin smiled. “Happy New Year, Mom.”

“And what a happy new year it is,” she said. “You’ve been busy I see. I’m glad you were finally able to reveal your true feelings for Phoebe. That’s lovely.”

Quentin smirked. “True feelings?”

“Oh, you don’t think I thought you two were just friends, right?”

“How would you know when I was just as protective over Eden and Jasmine as I was for Phoebe?”

His mother chuckled. “Baby, I’m your mother. I see everything, even the way your world stopped when Phoebe was in the vicinity. Sure, you were protective over them all, but Phoebe gave you a joy like none I’ve seen before. As your mother, it was scary to see my little boy falling in love so young, but you were so graceful, and you put your friendship first.

“After a while I became used to the way you would stare at her, or be the first to help her with something she needed. Then when you both became adults, it was a pleasure. I knew when you mutually decided to give it a go, you’d have a love most people could only dream of.”

Quentin silently listened to his mother speak such touching words. It was true, parents knew best.

“So, when’s the wedding?” she added.

Quentin closed his eyes and smiled. “I haven’t asked her yet, Ma.”

“Well, I won’t rush you to do that either. When you’re ready I guess.”

Quentin swallowed thickly. “I’m not sure if it’s in our stars,” he admitted.

“Why is that?”

“Her brothers didn’t seem to take the news of us dating so well.”

“Ah,” his mother said, “the friendship pact.”

Surprised, Quentin quirked up an eye at her. “What do you know about that?”

“I was there when you made it, remember? I’d just entered the living room to ask you boys if you wanted lemonade, and apparently, Jonathon had caught you gazing off at Phoebe.”

Quentin chuckled remembering that day.

“You’d promised not to talk to his sister if he promised not to talk to yours. You guys wrote it out on paper and everything. I figured one day you would come back to regret that. But I don’t want you to worry about it much at all. They’ll see the same love I saw all the years you guys grew up together.”

Quentin hoped his mother was right. If it were up to him, he and Phoebe would be together no matter what. But he knew that she would never be able to commit to him fully if her family had a problem with it, and Quentin wouldn’t let that happen.

“We’re coming to see you tomorrow night.”

“Oh, great,” his mother perked up, “I’ll make a dinner out of it.”

“Thank you, Ma. Is Dad there?”

“No, your father was at an auction today. He found a bunch of stuff he thinks is worth some money, so he’s gone to get an appraisal.”

Quentin frowned. “You guys don’t need money, do you?”

“No, but your father can’t help himself.”

Quentin grinned. “I see.”

“Well I look forward to seeing you both tomorrow. I’ll let your father know.”

“I love you, Ma.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

Quentin ended his call and sent a text to Phoebe.

I miss you terribly.

He didn’t expect to get a response right away, so he closed the screen and slipped the phone in his pocket. Quentin shifted his attention to his computer screen and the email he’d gotten from Cindy that morning. This was the busiest time of the year for his company, when people sought out to execute their new year’s resolutions by getting memberships at the gym. Like Phoebe, Quentin wished they could’ve spent more time in Paris, but he had a specific destination in mind for what he was hoping would be their honeymoon.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The knock on the door jolted Phoebe from her current telephone conversation. With the cord from the retriever stretching as she glanced over at the wooden barrier, Phoebe shuffled it to the side and turned on her heels, motioning for her visitor to come in.

The man stepped inside with a bouquet of roses in his hands. The flower arrangement was so big it covered the top half of the deliverer. Phoebe held a finger out at him as she finished the call she was on.

“It’s no problem, thank you very much.” She dropped the phone in the cradle and glanced back at the guy.

“Phoebe Alexandria Rose?” he prompted.

“Yes,” she said, coming around the desk to stand in front of him.

“These are for you.” He handed the big arrangement over to her, and Phoebe smiled delightfully.

“They’re beautiful…” she sang, slipping her nose in to smell them.

“Have a good day, ma’am.”

“Wait!”

The deliverer turned back.

“Who are they from?”

“Oh sorry.” The man stepped back in the room and pulled a card out of his back pocket. “They fell over twice on the way over here, so I carried them while I drove the rest of the way, and I didn’t want to destroy your card. I hope that’s okay.”

The man looked uneasy.

“It’s fine,” she said, accepting the card. Phoebe sat the flowers down and ripped the envelope.

My lady love, being with you has given me a lifetime of joy. Please accept these roses as a symbol of my love for you. – Quentin

The smile that stretched across Phoebe’s face was clandestine. She shivered all over and had a reckless thought that she’d had to put in check quickly. Quentin made her want to drop everything she was doing and go to him. Just to feel his lips against hers and his tongue down her mouth.

“Chill out, girl, you’ve got work to do.”

Sometimes a girl had to give herself a little pep talk. It was the end of the day, and from the moment they’d touched down, Phoebe had been enthralled in one crisis to the next. Why people decided New Year’s Eve was the best time to get reckless was beyond her. But she had a job to do. Leaning into the flowers once again, Phoebe sniffed then sauntered around to her desk and dialed his number.

It rang twice when he answered. “How was your day?”

The groove of his deep voice comforted Phoebe, and she found herself leaning into the phone. “Busy, but no different than last year after new year’s.”

“Hmm, I have a massage waiting for you when you’re done.”

“Really,” she crooned. “I am so looking forward to that.”

“Full body, too.”

Phoebe whistled. “Why don’t I just call in right now and tell Jordan I won’t be here tomorrow.”

Quentin laughed. “You won’t hear me disagreeing.”

“If only it were that easy,” she moaned. “Thank you, babe, for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

Phoebe blushed and flipped a piece of hair behind her ear, then glanced at her wristwatch. “I’ll tell you what, how about I’ll leave in thirty minutes and make my way to your place?”

“Are you calling in first because you know an all-nighter is in order?”

Phoebe giggled. “I’ve got the feeling being with you, there will be many of those.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

Phoebe laughed again. “I might have to set schedules for us. I can’t be off my game walking into the courtroom because my boyfriend rocked my world all night.”

“Schedules?” Quentin said. “Nah, we won’t be one of those couples. If anything, that all-nighter will put a spring in your step, girl.”

Phoebe giggled again.

“I’ll let you finish up. See you soon, sweetheart.”

“Okay.”

“I… love you,” he finished.

Phoebe’s heart rocked against her chest, and her entire body was covered with warm chills. Her eyes faltered and she responded, “I love you, too, Quentin.” They both remained quiet, taking in the severity of their confession before Phoebe ended the call.

So it had been true. Quentin hadn’t said it on a whim just for the sake of their coupling. He meant it. He really loved her. A smile stretched across her face that reached her eyes. Her body was buzzing with a euphoric warmth that she couldn’t contain. Phoebe inhaled a deep breath, completely astonished that she was in love with Quentin Davidson out loud and vice versa. If it was the last thing she did, she would leave this office and get to him. Fast.

Unfortunately, that blissful moment dispersed the minute an email hit her inbox. An emergency meeting had been called with the politician who’d been caught with his pants down, and all of the lead defense attorneys on the case were mandated to attend. Shit. Phoebe loved her career at Rose and Garnett, but she needed to balance the heavy workload and her growing love life. For her career to be fulfilling to her, she couldn’t let it take over her existence, or she would grow to hate it. Phoebe shot Quentin a quick text message apologizing for not being able to leave, then left her jacket, phone, and purse in her office when the meeting began in conference room C.

The text message from Phoebe had dashed the excitement Quentin had. He’d set up a full body massage, fruit, wine, cheese, and a light dinner. Now as he stood staring at the table of food he’d prepared, Quentin blew out a sigh and strolled to the refrigerator for an ice-cold Corona. He was halfway to the living room when the doorbell rang. It sounded through the house as whomever was on the other side was determined to get his attention. Quentin opened the door swiftly with a frown on his face.

“It’s so cold out here, please let me in,” Cindy said, practically running him over to get inside.”

“Well come on in,” he said dryly, closing the door behind her.

“It’s amazing how the temperature gets colder in January,” Cindy said shimmying as she walked down the hall into the kitchen.

Quentin followed her, taking another swig of his Corona. When Cindy saw the layout of food and the wine bottle that sat on ice, she turned back to him swiftly as he entered the kitchen.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No,” he said, taking another swig of his Corona. “Plans changed.”

“Hmm,” Cindy uttered. “Well, I don’t mean to barge in here on you, but my car broke down, and I can’t get it to my mechanic until tomorrow. Your house was closer, so I Ubered here.” She smiled softly.

“What,” he said, “I don’t pay you enough to pay for an Uber home?”

Cindy’s eyes roamed side to side. “Of course, I just thought I’d stop by, I haven’t heard from you since the new year besides our back and forth emails.” She paused. “How was your new year by the way?”

“One of the best so far.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “Oh, and that kiss, right?” Cindy nodded slowly as a smile spread across her lips. “How could anyone miss that kiss you shared with Phoebe at the game. That was something, huh?”

Quentin watched her carefully. “It was better than it appeared,” he said.

“It appeared as if you wanted to filet her for the world to see, how could it have possibly been better than that?”

A sexy grin trekked across his lips. “Trust me, it was better.”

Cindy’s jaw locked, then she quickly released it. It was meant to be invisible, but Quentin hadn’t missed it. Not too long ago, he’d asked himself if firing Cindy was the thing to do. But because they had what he felt was a solid history and a complete understanding of their situation, he’d let up. They were past; Phoebe was present. But gauging her reaction just now led him to believe that maybe she didn’t understand at all.

She pivoted and traipsed over to the coffee maker. “You don’t mind if I make some coffee, do you? It would really warm me up.”

“Where’s your car?” Quentin asked.

Cindy slowly turned back to him with a brow quirked upward. “It’s downtown at the job.”

Quentin nodded. “Okay, where are your keys?”

Cindy fished out her keys, moving her hand around inside her pockets. Quentin held out his hand, and she tossed them over.

“I’m going to meet my mechanic at the job and have him transport it to his shop,” he said. “The company card will pay for the labor, and when I get back, we should talk.”

They eyed each other for several moments before Cindy nodded.

“Okay,” she said.

Quentin tossed his Corona in the garbage and went for his coat.

“How long do you think it will take?” Cindy asked.

“Maybe an hour, no longer than two.”

“Okay,” she said, watching him slip his muscled arms into a trench coat.

It had been a long time since Cindy had those thick arms wrapped around her, and Cindy’s body shuddered just thinking of it. She watched Quentin until he disappeared and wondered if he’d also missed her. It had been a few months since they’d been intimate, and the longing she held had reached its peak. Strolling to the cheese samples sitting on the counter, Cindy picked one up and tossed it in her mouth. Since Quentin hadn’t made a move on her since he’d been playing house with Phoebe, Cindy figured it would be up to her to make the move.

Cindy thought of Phoebe for a moment. She was gorgeous, successful, and young, but there was no way she could keep up with a man like Quentin. And either way, Cindy wasn’t ready to be done with him yet. Cindy went to the cabinet and pulled out a wine glass and poured the sweet liquor halfway. She taste tested it while she pondered on what needed to be done to regain Quentin’s affections. A rueful smile crossed her lips as she sipped her wine.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Phoebe dug her feet into her boots and zipped them to her exposed calf. That meeting had lasted longer than she cared for, and now all she wanted to do was find herself between Quentin’s arms and go to sleep. After picking up her briefcase, Phoebe tied the buckle around her double-breasted coat and strolled to the exit where she flipped the switch, shutting off the light. She closed her door behind her and locked it just as Jordan approached.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving?” Phoebe feigned surprise. “The almighty Jordan never gets tired of work,” she teased.

“I like the almighty part,” he said, teasing back.

Phoebe smirked.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said.

Together, they ambled to the elevator. It dinged and opened without hesitation. They moved inside and turned to face the door.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask you how your new year had gone,” Jordan started.

“It was wonderful,” she said with a dreamy smile.

Jordan nodded. “Good.”

“How was yours?”

“Excellent,” he responded. “Selena and I spent it together in Sidney.”

“Australia?” Phoebe cooed.

Jordan chuckled, “That’s the one.”

“Hmm must be a little love in the air,” she teased.

“Time will tell,” he said.

Phoebe remembered Quentin saying the same thing to her.

“So,” Jordan got down to what he really wanted to know, “everything between you and Quentin, cool?”

Phoebe leaned into his shoulder and smiled up at him. “Don’t worry about me, big brother. Everything between Quentin and I is superb.”

It had only taking her fifteen minutes to drive twenty-five miles to reach him. Phoebe pulled her Mercedes Benz into Quentin’s driveway and parked. She retrieved her keys and briefcase, deciding to work from home tomorrow. His home to be exact. She smiled thinking about lighting a fire and being able to cuddle with him as she worked. She imagined Quentin rubbing her shoulders while she sent emails, took phone calls, and did research. Her smile lingered as she strolled to the front door and stuck her key in for the first time.

Elated and filled with happiness, she opened the door and strolled inside. Her nerves began to jump joyously as she moved through the kitchen. Discarded food sat on the counter and an empty wine glass in the sink.

“Aww,” Phoebe sang, thinking about the way she’d abandoned him and the massage he had for her. She walked toward the living room, looking for Quentin, but only found his high definition TV on ESPN. As she thought about ways to make it up to him, Phoebe scanned the room then strolled slowly down the hallway before entering his sleeping quarters.

It took you long enough,” Cindy said as she arched her naked back and glanced toward the door. Laying across Quentin’s bed with her bare legs tangled between his sheets, Cindy sat up gradually, and her mouth opened with surprise.

“Phoebe,” Cindy said, astounded.

A wave of sickness cascaded over Phoebe, and the briefcase she held onto slipped from her fingers and hit the ground. Her mind wanted to disregard the image of Cindy’s naked body spread out for her Quentin, but Phoebe’s eye held her captive. Instantly, her throat locked, and a severe splitting pain rocked through her existence.

“Oh my God,” Phoebe said, stunned into tears as the watery mist clouded her vision and fell down her face. Without trying, Phoebe’s eyes traveled to Cindy’s perky breasts, flat belly, thick hips, and silky legs. Phoebe slapped a hand over her mouth to control her regurgitation, and her feet back pedaled before she turned and fled down the hallway. Her hands fell out in front of her as she felt against the walls the more her vision blurred, half running and half dragging herself with tears streaming in a downpour.

Just as she reached the front door, it opened, and Quentin entered shaking off the cold. Phoebe ran past him, but her sudden appearance mixed with the distress in her eyes made him quickly reach out.

“Phoebe,” he grabbed her, “where are you going, what’s wrong?”

Phoebe turned around and slapped him hard. Her palm stung as she pulled it back and shouted, “I trusted you!”

Taken aback, Quentin paused, and his mind shuffled quickly. Phoebe turned to leave again, but he halted her advances, grabbing her arm again.

“Phoebe! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pulled her into an embrace.

“Let me go!” she shouted. “You must think I’m an idiot!” Phoebe shook out of his arms.

“Can you calm down for a second and tell me what you’re talking about.”

“As if you don’t know there’s a woman in your house! In your bed for that matter! She’s waiting for you to come back so you can finish what you started.” She held a shaking hand out at him. “I can’t believe you would do this to me! Never once did I suspect you would. Why go through all of the theatrics and give me a key if you were going to keep screwing other women!?”

“Phoebe, listen to me. I’m not screwing other women.” He put his hands together and step toward her, and she stepped back. “Please,” he said. “I don’t know what you saw, but we can get down to the bottom of this right now.”

“So, you’re saying you didn’t know that your assistant is in your house?”

Quentin hesitated. “I knew she was there, but she—”

“Just shut up, Quentin! How can you excuse this?” Phoebe shook her head. “I was a fool,” she uttered as tears streamed down her face. “I should have never!” she yelled. She turned on her heels and fled through the yard, and Quentin went after her again.

“I’m not letting you leave like this.” He reached for her, and she shoved him with as much strength that was inside her soul.

“I hate you!” she screamed, and he fell back, stunned by her outburst. Phoebe jumped in her Benz and pulled out of the driveway. The tires pealed and kicked up asphalt as she threw the car in drive and took off down the street.

Lost in a trance, Quentin stood there taking his thoughts over what had just happened. It was then that he turned on his heels and re-entered the condo. His heavy steps announced his thundering presence, and when he cut the corner to his bedroom, Quentin was halted in his tracks.

Cindy had not moved. She still laid relaxed across his sheets much like the way she was when Phoebe had entered the room, with her legs entwined in the covers and brown peeks of her naked body on display.

“Son of a bitch,” Quentin barked.

Cindy sat up, and her breasts bounced as she perched on her knees.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

Quentin let out a harsh breath. Really, this was all his fault. If he would’ve had the necessary conversation with Cindy from the beginning, maybe just maybe, she wouldn’t be lying naked in his bed. But that was just his voice of reason, assuming Cindy cared anything remotely about his relationship with Phoebe.

“Put your clothes on,” his ordered. His steely voice was rough and infuriated. Right now, Quentin felt homicidal. He may have just lost Phoebe forever. But taking a little blame on himself, he decided not to throw her out on her ass.

Cindy slipped out of the bed and sashayed to him. “I’ve missed you,” she purred. She flung her arms around his neck, and Quentin peeled her off of him.

“I said put your clothes on, I’m calling you a taxi.”

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to him, “what’s going on here?”

“What’s going on here?” he murmured. “Are you serious,” his steely voice drawled. “You know Phoebe and I are in a relationship. You’re disrespectful. Now get your shit and leave.”

Cindy took several steps back, embarrassed and astonished that he would dismiss her. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and quickly tossed them on as Quentin left the room to call a taxi. As he dialed, Quentin cursed, and his thoughts shuffled on what he could do to fix this.

“Mercury,” the man on the other line answered.

Quentin gave his address and disconnected the line just as Cindy came out the room.

“Hey Quentin, I’m sorry. You’re right, I was out of line, and I promise it won’t happen again. Honestly, I didn’t know you were serious about her since you’re usually not serious about anyone.”

Quentin regarded her. “You’re right. I take partial responsibility for this. I should’ve made it clearer. But I’ve got to tell you, Cindy, you can’t work with me anymore.”

Her eyes widened. “What, no, just calm down a minute. I promise it will never happen again.”

“It’s too late,” Quentin added.

“You’re not kidding.”

“I’m sorry to say that I’m not.” He looked from her to the window. “As of tomorrow, you’ll be transferred to the westside office. You’ll be working as Courtney’s assistant. Your salary will stay the same, and you’ll be reporting to her instead of me. Turn in your company phone when you get there, and Courtney will assign you a new one.”

Cindy’s mouth dropped as a flurry of emotions and thoughts pulsated through her mind. She watched him with a mixture of shock and dread. She would be separated from him—as a sex partner and as a friend, someone she’d grown attached to. The latter hurt her more than the former.

“They say there’s a time and a season for everything.” He looked back at her. “Our season is over.”

“You can’t do this,” her voice cracked. “I love you.”

Quentin’s eyes widened. He didn’t see that coming a mile away. “Since when?” he said.

“Since… since,” she stuttered, still in a state of disbelief.

“This is straight up bullshit. You knew what our relationship was. You knew,” he said.

Cindy shrugged. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

Quentin turned his head with a shake. A severe headache pounded at his skull. “I’m sorry.” He turned back to her. “I don’t love you. I’m in love with Phoebe. There will never be anything between you and I, Cindy. I’m sorry.”

A horn outside the condo blew long and hard as they stood there staring at each other.

“I’ll have your car sent to your home when it’s ready.”

“So that’s it? Just like that.”

Quentin thought for a moment. Firing Cindy would be best for his relationship with Phoebe, if he managed by God’s grace to win her back. The problem with that was Cindy could easily make his life a living hell. In this day and age, some women filed sexual harassment lawsuits if they were pissed off enough. Despite the truth, it would be his word versus hers. And he was the “notorious playboy.” The only way he saw fit to fix the situation was to keep Cindy away from him—and Phoebe. And to not disparage Cindy by firing her. He couldn’t fire her anyway; he knew his wrongness in the situation.

All the changes, the choices made, was the best call.

“This is it,” he said finally.

Cindy shoved her arms inside her jacket and walked past him robotically. At the front door, she stopped and looked back at him. Her mouth opened, but no words came from her. Instead, she turned and exited.

Soon after, Quentin had his jacket in hand and left in hopes of reuniting with the love of his life.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Her phone rang nonstop throughout the night. And every time the smooth sounds of Musiq Soulchild rang from her iPhone, Phoebe would silence it and stuff her face back into her pillow. Her world had come crashing down so fast that it made her delirious, and the agony in her heart was more than she could bare. Every time she replayed her strange encounter with Quentin, it never made sense.

He acted as if he was clueless that there was a naked woman in his bed. He seemed so genuine Phoebe almost wanted to believe him. Almost. Truthfully, what did she expect him to say or do? Furthermore, why would he give her a key to his place if he planned to see other women?

An image of Cindy trekked through Phoebe’s mind, and she frowned. It amazed her that Quentin slept with his assistant. It was so cliché and tacky. Phoebe thought about how Cindy stretched out across his bed, her back arched with a peer over her shoulder. There was no doubt they were sleeping together, or else why would she be comfortable enough with him to strip down and wait for his return?

For all Phoebe knew, they’d had sex before he left, and Quentin was coming back to finish the job. Too bad Phoebe interrupted them. Her mind traveled to the love they made at his apartment and in Paris. It was irresistibility amazing to Phoebe, but maybe Quentin wasn’t satisfied. Her frown deepened as her thoughts darkened, and she questioned being enough for him.

“Phoebe.”

Phoebe snapped her head up to Jordan, then glanced around the conference room.

“Um, what was the question?” she asked.

Jordan’s brows dipped slightly. “Can you have Mike draw up the papers with the official statement written on it?”

“Yes. I’ll get on that right now.” Phoebe stood from the table and excused herself. Jordan resumed their meeting, but his thoughts stayed with Phoebe.

In her office, Phoebe braced her elbows on the desk and sank her fingers in her bone straight hair. Focusing on anything other than Quentin was becoming impossible, and at any moment she felt like she would scream. Besides that, Quentin would not let up on the calls. Every time she glanced at her phone, there was a missed call or text message.

In her heart, Phoebe wanted to hear him out. But the image of Cindy in his bed added an extra dose of fortitude in her, and she held out. The day moved at a snail’s pace, and she feared Jordan busting in and playing 20 Questions with her, so Phoebe hightailed it out of the office by 4 p.m. In her Mercedes, she drove across town to the Ritz Carlton and rented a suite for the week. It was crucial that she get her mind in order, and she couldn’t do that with people breathing down her neck.

When she didn’t come home the first night, her phone was flooded with calls and text messages from her sisters.

I’m okay will call later. She’d responded in a text with no intentions to call anytime soon. The next day at Rose and Garnett LLC, another bouquet of roses were delivered to her office. Phoebe almost tossed the note without looking but curiosity got the better of her, and she opened it up and read it.

I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to explain. Just one. – Quentin

Locking her jaw tight, Phoebe ripped the note and tossed it. She paced around her desk and hit a button on her phone that dialed her assistant.

“Yes, Ms. Rose?”

“Mike, would you mind taking these roses to the break room and replacing them with the ones from yesterday.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

Phoebe folded her arms and glared at the beautiful flowers. As mad and hurt as she was with Quentin, none of that stopped the constant fluttering that carried on when she thought of him. She sighed and went on about her day, keeping busy for apparent reasons. That night when Eden called but didn’t get an answer, she left a threatening voicemail.

“If you don’t call me and tell us what’s up, I’m going to the police and telling them someone has kidnapped you and they’re holding you for ransom.”

Phoebe shook her head. Leave it to Eden to be that dramatic. Instead of calling, she sent another text.

I love you. I’ll see you Friday.

It didn’t take long for her to get a response.

This is about Quentin, isn’t it?

Phoebe sighed and leaned back, her MacBook Pro resting on the lap of her crossed legs.

I’ll see you Friday.

Then she powered off her phone and closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to drown out her thoughts.

The 1966 Ford Mustang pulled to a stop in front of Christopher Rose’s compound. Quentin reached to withdraw the keys from the ignition, shutting the pristine vintage automobile down on the street. Quentin glanced at himself in the mirror then peered back at the front door. He had planned to do this with Phoebe—talk with her family and tell them of their mutual love.

My, how fast things can change.

Current situations didn’t stop what Quentin had to say, so with much chagrin, he removed his long frame from the Mustang and strolled up the sidewalk to the front door. Pressing the doorbell, Quentin cleared his throat and counted the steps silently as someone approached the door.

When it swung open, a warm smile fell across Norma’s lips, and she ushered Quentin in as a wave of wind sailed into the house.

“Mr. Davidson,” Norma said, “you’re early, come on in.”

“How are you today, Mrs. Rose?”

Norma turned her lips up in a pout. “I thought I told you to call me Norma.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Quentin said.

Norma reached out and pulled Quentin in for a hug. “Come, follow me,” she said, releasing him and strolling down the corridor.

Inside his reading room, Christopher was laughing about a joke one of his sons had made when Norma entered with Quentin in tow.

Norma cleared her throat. “Look who’s here early,” she announced.

Quentin stepped from behind Norma as his eyes settled in on Jonathon, Jonas, Jaden, and Jacob before finally moving to Christopher. The men’s smiles slowly dissipated, and Christopher waved Quentin over.

“Quentin!” Christopher deep voice barked. “We weren’t expecting you for a little while, son.” Christopher assessed Quentin’s emotionless face. “Is there something I should be worried about?” Christopher frowned.

Quentin cleared his throat. “Phoebe and I had a misunderstanding,” he began. Groans bounced throughout the room, and Quentin exhaled a deep sigh.

“What happened?”

It was Jonathon who spoke up.

“What happened isn’t important,” Quentin stated firmly. “What is important is that I love Phoebe. I always have, and I always will. Dating her was never about testing any waters or for God’s sake playing with her heart. I would never do that to her. Now I know you all think I’m not good enough for Phoebe, and what kind of brother or father would you be if you didn’t? When my sister was dating, I didn’t think the guy she was dating was good enough for her either. But I can admit when I was wrong. Now they’re married, and she couldn’t be happier.”

“Just what are you saying, son?” Christopher asked.

Quentin took his focus to Christopher. “I’m in love with your daughter,” he said. “Have been for a long time, but I’ve always stayed away from her because I didn’t want to disappoint any of you.” Quentin swept his eye around the room to each one of them. “I can’t make you understand how much she means to me. All I can say is it would crush my own soul to do wrong by her, and I would much rather be dropped in the middle of nowhere than do anything of the sort. So today I plan to ask her to marry me, and I came over here hoping my brothers,” Quentin said, looking at them one by one again, “and father would give me the benefit of the doubt. I’d love your blessing.”

The room was quiet as each one took in his words. Jonas believed Quentin did love his sister. He’d known as much through the years, but Jonas never thought he’d see the day when Quentin finally admitted it.

“So that whole outburst on the beach was about you?” Jonathon asked.

“It was about all of us,” Quentin said.

Jaden nodded. “He’s right.”

“We were all treating her like a child, making decisions for her without so much as a thought to how she would feel about it,” Quentin added. “That stops now.”

The room became quiet again, and then Jonathon rose from his seat and strolled to stand before Quentin.

“For the record, it wasn’t that I didn’t think you were good enough. I know very well what your capacities are, I just didn’t know which road you were trying to take, and I was unwilling to let you play around with my sister. Period.”

They stared at each other for another second.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathon said. “You will always be my brother, and I shouldn’t have come at you the way I did. Just don’t fucking surprise me like that again.”

Quentin cracked a smile. “I’m sorry, too. Instead of having a conversation in detail about something I knew would hit you hard, I just kind of told you what I was doing.”

Jonathon nodded.

“Brothers?” Quentin held out his hand, and Jonathon didn’t need to look down at it to grasp it with a firm shake.

“Hell yeah,” Jonathon agreed. “Now let’s go get your wife.”

Quentin’s full-on devilish smile spread across his lips. It had taken him several days and a mini fortune to come up with something that would grab Phoebe's attention.

“Let’s go,” he said. “If my plan doesn’t work, nothing will.”

Across Town

Phoebe was late getting to her office. That morning she would be checking out of the Ritz, and she felt like taking extra time to get ready for work.

She flipped her hair and tightened her jacket as she walked through the double doors, heading straight for the elevator. The week had gone by at a crawl, and every day, she arrived at the office with another set of roses awaiting her. Several times, Phoebe had been on the verge of answering one of Quentin’s calls if for nothing else but to hear his absolute truth. But the sting of his betrayal kept her away, making her fall back in every case.

“Good morning,” a voice rang out.

Phoebe turned casually around, and disbelief spread across her face followed by a frown.

“Unless you need an attorney, I would suggest you leave the premises,” Phoebe snapped.

Cindy stepped closer to her, and Phoebe arched a brow. “Don’t get it twisted,” Phoebe said, “this is personal, and you’re in my space. I suggest you back up before I feel threatened all of a sudden and stand my ground.”

Cindy raised a brow and took a step back, but Phoebe kept her eyes cut on her.

“I didn’t come here for any trouble.”

“Yeah, could’ve fooled me.”

“I know I’m the last person you want to see, but I came here to tell you Quentin had no idea I’d be lying in his bed. When I came over, it was because my car had broken down at the job.” Cindy sighed at the annoyed look on Phoebe’s face. “Quentin left to help me out. I saw all the fuss he made for you—the fruit, food, wine, flowers, and… and I came up with the idea to…” Cindy cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m not the one he wants. It’s you.”

Phoebe stared at Cindy for another second before she turned her back and entered the elevator. When Phoebe was safely inside, and the doors closed, she exhaled and dropped her head. She’d missed Quentin like hell, and being without him for a week had been torturous. Give him a chance and talk to him. Phoebe exhaled a breath. The two had planned to have a conversation with her family. But now things had changed so drastically, and the last thing she wanted to hear was I told you so.

The doors to the elevator opened, and Phoebe stepped out and strolled through the office, going straight for her closed door. Jordan had watched her every day but never made a move to speak on his thoughts. Phoebe knew Jordan could tell something was up. She was grateful that he didn’t ask and let her be.

Phoebe entered her office and sat her briefcase down on the desk and powered her computer up to prepare for the day ahead. She tried and failed to shift her mind from Quentin to her work, and by lunch time, she’d given up and decided to call. Standing from her chair, Phoebe perched her butt onto her desk and pulled the receiver to her ear. As she dialed, Jordan knocked then entered with urgency. Phoebe looked at him quizzically.

“What’s up?” Phoebe asked.

“Rose and Garnet is on the news.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, and she replaced the receiver. “What?” her voice rose, and she slipped off the desk to follow Jordan back into the main office area. Mike stood with the remote in his hand, elevating the volume. The local news station and camera crews were set up outside of the law firm. Their cameras recorded, and they spoke exponentially as what appeared to be a floating stage followed by a marching band sailed down the street.

As if the festivities had been planned, security personnel and police officers blocked off the streets, sending nearby drivers on a detour. The five members of the band were announced by the reporters as The Original Spice Girls, and Phoebe gasped and covered her mouth. Frantically, her eyes searched for him, and it didn’t take long for his array of charm to fill up the screen. As if Quentin knew exactly where she stood, he gazed into the camera and a wicked chill slipped down Phoebe’s spine when his eyes met hers.

The crowd simmered down just enough without completely shutting down the party.

Lead reporter from Fox 5 news Teresa Hardaway leaned toward Quentin and spoke. “Tell us why you’ve come here today and what the significance of this parade is to you.”

Teresa held the microphone out at him and Quentin spoke straight into the camera. “I’m in love, Teresa,” he said, “and I fear I may have lost someone I could never live my life without because of a misunderstanding.”

The reporter peered at him, and Quentin’s bright handsome smile grew across his face. “I know what you’re thinking. But the truth is she’s the one.”

Phoebe’s heart lurched, and both hands flew to her mouth as tears stained her eyes.

“She’s always been the one,” he added. “Phoebe, you need to understand, I love you, sweetheart, and I would never disrespect you in any way.” Quentin paused. “You’ve got to believe me. You know me more than anyone. What does your heart tell you, baby?”

Phoebe’s heart rocked against her chest, and she cried harder as her feet moved across the room. Everyone in the law office stood as they watched her sprint out the door to the elevators. She hit the button furiously then abandoned the metal doors for the stairs and took the two flights down in record time. When she burst through and entered the lobby, her eyes widened at the real-life parade that sat just outside the doors. In enrapt awe, Phoebe cleared the exit and stepped outside into Chicago’s breezy January winds that coasted her within inches of Quentin’s towering frame.

Quentin’s eyes lit up upon seeing her, and immediately he reached out and pulled her into his arms as the cameras rolled.

“What’s with the marching band, and… the Spice Girls?” She smiled excitedly. “Now this is just being extra,” she teased.

Holding her, he reached out and tugged her nose. “If you haven’t noticed by now, I like to show you off. I only want big things for you, no matter how extravagant they may be. Besides that, I couldn’t seem to get your attention. I figured there’s no way you can ignore Geri Halliwell and a marching band. You’d be surprised what a shitload of money could do.”

Phoebe chuckled as a blush rose on her cheeks.

Quentin lifted her chin.

“I would never,” he said, and Phoebe nodded. “Still, I want to apologize. I’m so sorry, Phoebe. It was my responsibility to let anyone I’ve dealt with in my past know that the only person in this world I want is you, and I’ve got to know if you can spend the rest of your life letting me prove it.”

Phoebe’s eyes slowly widened, and Quentin produced another golden box this time with a gold bow attached to it. Phoebe gasped and covered her mouth with a hand.

“They say three times a charm,” he said, popping the top.

“Quentin!” Phoebe shouted as she stared at the rose gold diamond ring. The jewelry sparked with a sharp gleam, and tears sprouted from Phoebe’s eyes as she nodded profusely.

“I think that’s a yes,” Quentin said.

Phoebe nodded even harder. “Yes, baby,” she cried, “I will!”

Quentin tightened his arms around Phoebe, pulling her so close she couldn’t breathe without him exhaling first. Warm lips sank into hers, and Quentin’s hand slipped up her neck into her hair with an even tighter grip. Phoebe cried and sucked his lips as the January winds cruised around them in a whirlwind of caresses.

The End

Enjoying the Falling for a Rose Series? Grab the next installment which follows Jordan Alexander Rose and Selena Strauss in The Sweetest Surrender.

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Note from the Author

Thank you so much for reading Mine, Falling for a Rose Book Seven. I hope you enjoyed Quentin and Phoebe’s story! Reviews are the life blood of independent writers. The more reviews we get, the more Amazon and others promote the book. If you want to see more books by me, Stephanie Nicole Norris, a review would let me know that you’re enjoying the series. If you liked the book, I ask you to write a review on Amazon.com, Goodreads or wherever you go for your book information. Thank you so much. Doing so means a lot to me.

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XOXO - Stephanie

More Books by Stephanie Nicole Norris

Contemporary Romance

- Everything I Always Wanted (A Friends to Lovers Romance)

- Safe With Me (Falling for a Rose Book One)

- Enough (Falling for a Rose Book Two)

- Only If You Dare (Falling for a Rose Book Three)

- Fever (Falling for a Rose Book Four)

- A Lifetime With You (Falling for a Rose Book Five)

- She said Yes (Falling for a Rose Holiday Edition Book Six)

- Mine (Falling for a Rose Book Seven)

Romantic Suspense Thrillers

- Beautiful Assassin

- Beautiful Assassin 2 Revelations

- Mistaken Identity

- Trouble In Paradise

- Vengeful Intentions (Trouble In Paradise 2)

- For Better and Worse (Trouble In Paradise 3)

- Until My Last Breath (Trouble In Paradise 4)

Christian Romantic Suspense

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Crime Fiction

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Fantasy

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Non-Fiction

- Against All Odds (Surviving the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) *Non-Fiction

About the Author

Stephanie Nicole Norris is an author from Chattanooga, Tennessee, with a humble beginning. She was raised with six siblings by her mother Jessica Ward. Always being a lover of reading, during Stephanie’s teenage years, her joy was running to the bookmobile to read stories by R. L. Stine.

After becoming a young adult, her love for romance sparked, leaving her captivated by heroes and heroines alike. With a big imagination and a creative heart, Stephanie penned her first novel Trouble In Paradise and self-published it in 2012. Her debut novel turned into a four-book series packed with romance, drama, and suspense. As a prolific writer, Stephanie’s catalog continues to grow. Her books can be found on her website and Amazon. Stephanie is inspired by the likes of Donna Hill, Eric Jerome Dickey, Jackie Collins, and more. She currently resides in Tennessee with her husband and two-year-old son.

https://stephanienicolenorris.com/