His Loving Caress Read online

“No problem. I’m going to go back to my office, eat and continue working on the pop-up store project. Do you need anything else?”

  “No...just be ready at three for the warehouse walk-through. Oh, wait. Check to see if any of my fashion designer friends have some hot bikinis and sarongs. I’m going to the Hamptons for the Fourth of July and need some new ones.”

  Mya tapped her chin with smirk. “The Hamptons? For the Fourth of July? Mmm-hmm.”

  “Um...yeah. So? I go to the Hamptons every summer.”

  “Yes, but I recently saw the flier for the jazz festival and a certain quartet is on there. The Braxton Chase Quartet. Interesting.”

  After opening the salad container, Elle picked a crouton off the top and popped it in her mouth. “Yes, he invited me to hang with him for a few days in the Hamptons. No big deal.” Elle shrugged and mixed the salad around. And it wasn’t a big deal. We’re friends, and I have willpower.

  “How many hot bikinis do you want? Should I add anything else to the list? Lingerie? A Brazilian wax?” Mya teased, walking toward the door. “Toodles.”

  Elle called out in a joking manner, “You know, Ciara suggested I fire you for making me go to the brunch in the first place.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Ciara says you should fire me all the time. Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding,” Mya said, closing the door behind her.

  Wedding? Getting married was no longer on her goal list.

  She’d had proposals from two boyfriends and while she did care for them, she couldn’t see herself married to either one. Ciara and their other friends suggested she was scared of the actual wedding ceremony and feared being jilted again but that wasn’t the case. There simply wasn’t any chemistry. She didn’t love them as she had Braxton. Heck, she didn’t even know them like that. Sure, she knew the basic, generic things but the deep conversations and the knowing what they were thinking just by facial expressions wasn’t present. She’d tried hard as she could to love Connor Prescott, the investment banker. Her parents adored him and his family adored her, but there was just something missing that she could never pinpoint. Perhaps it was that his snoring, chewing and lame jokes bothered her to no end. Braxton’s snoring had never bothered her. Even when she would be away from New York for a week or more at a time, she didn’t miss Connor at all. And that was all the proof she needed to know that he simply wasn’t the one.

  Taking a bite of her salad, Elle’s thoughts trekked back to Mya’s words. At this point, Elle wasn’t sure about getting back with him much less marrying the man. Even though the sad truth was that she couldn’t see herself married to anyone but Braxton.

  Chapter 7

  “This is absolutely exquisite,” Elle stated as she walked into the tiled foyer of the Cape Cod cottage on the Hamptons. She could see through to the oversized great room with plush off-white couches with matching comfy, huge chairs topped with gold and dark blue toss pillows. In the middle of the room was a white baby grand piano set in front of an enormous picture window that overlooked the inviting blue ocean.

  “Thank you. Glad you like it.” Braxton replied as they walked through to the great room. To the right was an open gourmet kitchen with off-white antique cabinets, stainless steel appliances and beige granite countertops. A round glass table with black wrought-iron chairs sat in the breakfast nook amidst bay windows and puffy burgundy valances that matched placemats and napkins on the beautifully set table. Everything was decorated with perfection and she wasn’t surprised.

  “This place has Megan written all over it.”

  “Yep. Baby sis is very talented.” Braxton sat on the piano bench and Elle joined him.

  His scent hit her nose and she almost regretted sitting so close. She was tempted to straddle his lap but her key word for the weekend was willpower. And considering he looked absolutely scrumptious in a pair of khaki shorts and a red golf shirt that wasn’t hiding his toned mocha arms, she needed all the willpower she could muster up.

  “She decorated my second home in New Jersey a few summers ago. It’s absolutely gorgeous. I’m sometimes scared to touch anything because I don’t want to mess it up.”

  “I didn’t know she decorated your home.”

  Elle ran her fingers along the keys of the piano. “You weren’t supposed to.”

  “Well, I have to admit whenever I asked my sisters about you they didn’t answer. Syd would say ‘Let the internet be your friend’ in a sarcastic way.”

  Elle laughed. “That sounds just like her.”

  “Do you remember how to play?”

  “Uh...no.” She wrinkled her nose as her brow creased. She loved music thanks to him, but she had no musical ability whatsoever. “I do believe you taught me how to play three songs, though. The only one I remember is “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and that’s with one finger, not ten. My lessons usually ended unfinished, as I’d find myself straddling my piano teacher and kissing him as my back would play the keys better than I ever could.”

  Nodding his head, he winked at her with an intoxicating grin. “Those were some good times. You were my favorite student. Let me see what you remember.”

  “You can’t be serious, Maestro.”

  “It’s all in fun.”

  Groaning, she started to play with one finger, or rather bang the keys with one finger, painstakingly skipping over and playing the wrong notes. It was embarrassing to mess up in front of him. Sure he was her homeboy, but he was also a musical genius, a master at his craft. She hated that she’d even attempted to play something so simple and still effed it up.

  Braxton covered his ears and Elle playfully pinched him on the arm.

  “Sunshine. Stop. Just stop,” he teased, taking her hands and holding them tight in his lap.

  “I glad you’re finding this amusing. I told you I don’t remember. Besides, that’s not where my talents or creativity lie.”

  A sinful grin rose up the corner of his mouth as he leaned over and placed a seductive kiss to the side of her neck, eliciting a surprised yet pleased gasp from her. She pushed away from him to the edge of the bench before she showed him just how talented she was.

  “Down, boy. I was referring to my designs, not...kissing and stuff.”

  “And stuff? Mmm... I remember that quite well. But seriously, you’re the best in your field, Sunshine. I’ve always known that. I especially love that black dress from the auction. It had all your ample curves on display. You wouldn’t happen to have one in every color? The girls were looking mighty ripe and delicious that night.” He played a few notes from “My, My, My” by Johnny Gill. “Glad I got a little sample.”

  Smacking her lips, she shook her head. “You never quit. Don’t make me play another selection.”

  “No, no.” He waved his hands in front of him laughing. “How about I play and you take a tour of the house and relax. Any requests?” He raised his eyebrow with a knowing expression as if he already knew what she wanted to hear.

  Elle had plenty of requests, but decided she wasn’t ready to hear any of the songs he’d written for her. It was too soon and a few still made her teary-eyed. “How about you practice your set for the jazz fest tomorrow.”

  “I’ve been at rehearsal all day with the band.”

  Rising, she retreated to the window to stare out at the beautiful shades of the sky as the sun began to set, giving her an idea for pastel, tranquil summer bridesmaids’ dresses.

  “Then rest your hands. I’m going to go outside and take pictures of the sky. It’s very inspiring.”

  “Cool. I’ll take your bags to your room. You have the master suite. It’s on the other side of the kitchen.”

  Elle was glad he’d answered the question that had brewed in her mind all day. She’d wondered about their sleeping arrangements. Since it was also a rental, she’d looked up the information for the home t
hat morning and saw that it had four bedrooms. “And where are you sleeping, Mr. Chase?”

  “Calm down. In the in-law suite on the other side. It’s basically the same as the master unless you’d prefer me to sleep with you.” His lips rose slyly up his jaw.

  “No.”

  “Very well. We could’ve had a slumber party.”

  “Aren’t we too old for slumber parties?”

  “We can stay up and catch up,” he suggested.

  “That’s sounds like a plan, but out here, not in the bedroom. What’s the plan for dinner?”

  “The chef will be here soon.”

  “Chef?”

  “Yes, I hired one to cook dinner. I hope you like lobster.”

  “I love it.”

  “Perfect. Would you like to eat out on the veranda? It’s enclosed, so no bugs.”

  “That would be lovely. Thank you.” She exited through the French doors leading outside and before she could close them she heard the prelude of the first song he’d ever written for her and kept the door slightly ajar. Of all the songs, she thought. That was the one that bothered her the most. He’d written it while she’d slept after their first time making love. She’d woken up to see him sitting at his keyboard, wearing headphones and bobbing his head while glancing at her every now and then. When Braxton had realized she was awake, he bestowed a loving smile on her and came over to the bed in their hotel suite to place a tender kiss on her forehead. Afterward, he unhooked the headphones and played the most beautiful song she’d ever heard him play. Tears were already streaming down her face but when he’d finished, he told her the song was called “Elle.” She couldn’t help but fall for him even more than she already had, and they topped the morning off by making love again.

  And now he had the audacity to play it when she was trying not to be tempted. And he wasn’t just playing, he was downright killing her song with so much vigor and emotion as if every single note served a purpose. She shut her eyes tight to suppress the tears. Hearing him caress the keys always put her in some kind of mood depending upon his mood that exuded into each note. This one was screaming a mix of regret and love. He always had a way of expressing himself through his music when he couldn’t find the words to say what he was feeling.

  She was kind of surprised he’d remembered it. He’d written other songs for her that had appeared on his albums but that one hadn’t. She figured he’d forgotten it. Afterward, he played some familiar jazz standards while she soaked in the beautiful scenery in front of her. The blue waves crashing against the sand and the pink-and-orange hues of the sunset were inviting and serene. She took a ton of pictures with her phone and sent them to her head designer.

  Upon reentering the cottage, she found Braxton in the kitchen with Chef Jackson whom she recognized from cooking contest shows and some industry parties around New York. One of his assistants approached her with a martini glass filled with an inviting purplish drink.

  “Good evening, Ms. Lauren. This is a pomegranate vodka martini.”

  “Why thank you very much.” Elle took a sip and was very impressed with the way the sweet drink had a kick to it as it went down. “This is good. Keep them coming.” She turned her attention to Braxton who was wearing a delicious smirk aimed toward her as he watched the chef place two lobsters into a huge pot of boiling water.

  “Hey, beautiful. Did you get a lot of pictures?” Grabbing his martini from the island, he walked over, clutched her hand and led her out to the couch on the veranda in front of the unlit fireplace.

  “I did.” Pausing, she took a sip of her drink and hoped her voice wasn’t shaky when she spoke. “I heard you playing... I didn’t think you even remembered ‘Elle.’”

  He raised a cocky eyebrow and the heat behind his eyes emerged. “I remember you very well. Every single inch of your brown sugar skin.”

  He strummed his fingers along her arm as if she was a piano. His subtle touch provoked tingles to run rampant through her and end up in her center as if she was being tickled. Then again, that could’ve been from her Brazilian wax yesterday.

  Shifting in her seat to calm down the sensations, she smacked her lips. “I was referring to the song you wrote for me. I figured you’d forgotten how to play it.”

  He frowned and then said in a sarcastic tone. “Um...I composed it, babe. Of course I remember it.”

  She giggled. “Yes, but you were like eighteen. That was eons ago, and it wasn’t on any of your CDs...not that I was searching for it.” She knew as she soon as she had said that, he’d know she was lying.

  “I didn’t put it on any of them because the song is special to me...like you are. I mean, don’t get me wrong, all of my songs are dear to me but... I didn’t want to share this one with the world. I wrote it especially for you, Sunshine. And I’ve played it over the years when I’m feeling a little sentimental or melancholy over you. So, no, I’ll never forget it. That would be like forgetting you and what you mean to me. No matter what happens, you’ll always be the one that got away. You’ll always be the one for me and I’ll always regret the day I walked out of your life.”

  “Really?” she whispered, blinking her eyes rapidly to block the tear that desperately wanted to fall. She refused to let him see her cry again. She was still chastising herself for crying when they had the talk.

  “Yeah... I know I messed up with you. This may sound sappy, but I didn’t know what I had until it was gone. You were my best friend, the love of my life and I hurt you. I will always feel guilty about that.” He ran a tender hand down her face and drew her to him, holding her to his chest. “I know you’ve forgiven me, but I’m still working on forgiving myself.”

  She snuggled closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I know you’re sorry, Brax. You don’t have to feel guilty anymore. I’ve forgiven you. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. And since you’re being transparent, I listen to the song when I’m feeling frustrated over not being with you. I get a little melancholy, as well.”

  Lifting her chin up, a crafty smize crossed his face. “You still have the copy I made for you?”

  She sighed. “I did, but unfortunately a few years ago as I was taking the CD out of the case and it got stuck. I ended up breaking it by mistake. However, I remember perfectly how it sounds in my head. Every single note. I was so sad when it broke. It was good to hear it again in person.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll record it for you and make a few extra copies just in case.”

  She kissed his cheek and stood, grabbing her drink from the table. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She had to move away from him. Being with him like that made her forget that they weren’t together and her goal for the weekend was to stay strong and resist him. But he was so damn yummy and the martini was giving her the giggles. Giggles around him always ended up with her under him.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, patting the cushion on the couch she’d vacated. “I thought we were chatting.”

  “To freshen up before dinner,” she said as the chef’s assistant strolled out to set the table for two.

  “All right. I’ll see you in a few.”

  Thirty minutes later, Elle stepped back onto the veranda that was lit by only white candles in the fireplace and on the table. Soft jazz played in the background and Braxton had changed into khaki slacks, a blue golf shirt and a black newsboy cap. He stood when she entered and approached him, giving her a warm hug. The fresh scent of soap and cologne filled her senses and his comforting embrace was enough to make her forget her promise to herself. Be strong, girl. Be strong. She chanted it over and over in her head as he kissed her hand and then her cheek, keeping her fingers laced with his. His lips on her skin almost knocked her off-kilter, and she continued the chant as he led her to the table. Pulling out her chair, he whispered, “You look sexy in that dress.”

 
Elle glanced down as if she’d forgotten what she was wearing. She’d purposely chosen a simple black polo shirt dress and flip-flops and had styled her hair in a ponytail so he wouldn’t be tempted to flirt. She sat and he pushed in her chair.

  “You think so?” she asked, surprised, as she unfolded her napkin and set it in her lap. She wanted to look as low-key as possible.

  “Elle, it doesn’t matter what you wear. You’re still a beautiful woman. And with your hair pulled back, I can focus more on your alluring eyes and radiant smile. Goodness I’ve missed your smile.”

  “You are too much, Brax.” She laughed, reaching for her glass of water. No more martini’s for her even though there was a fresh one in hand’s reach. “You look nice, as well. I like the cap, but I like your bald head, as well. Very smooth and sexy. It’s taken me a moment to get used to it, though. I’m used to your hair.”

  “I’m glad you find it smooth and sexy. It’s time to shave, thus, the cap.”

  The chef arrived with the lobster sautéed with shrimp, scallops and vegetables and a risotto with a garlic cream sauce.

  “You remembered I love seafood,” she said, taking a bite of the dish. “This is delicious, Chef Jackson.”

  “Thank, Ms. Lauren. Save room for dessert.” He skipped out and left them alone.

  Braxton dug in as well. They ate in silence for a few minutes and once in a while caught each other staring at one another over the candlelight. It was indeed romantic with the sky completely dark, the candles, and the sultry jazz music playing in the background. She had to break the sensual silence especially when she realized that her feet were intertwined with his under the table. When did that happen? It had been a habit of theirs since high school whenever they went out to eat. She didn’t want to remove them so she didn’t, and continued eating.

  “How was your meeting this morning at the club?” She was almost scared to ask that question and even more scared to know the answer. If he bought the building, would he spend more time in New York? A part of her hoped so and her mind started racing with all kinds of questions. Would he need a place to stay? Would we start to date again exclusively? Would we finally get married?