Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“ N ervous?”
Reese cut a sideways glance at Michael, who stood beside her in the backstage tunnel leading to the set of his show. “What do you think?”
He grinned, unfazed by her rancor.
The more relaxed he seemed, the tighter her stomach knotted until she was one big ball of nerves, sweaty palms and a galloping heartbeat. She’d expected some stage fright when the big day approached, but this was ridiculous. She hadn’t been this nervous since her days of doing clinicals as an intern. Her anxiety that morning was further exacerbated by the growing rumble of crowd noise as the studio audience awaited their entrance. She thought there had to be at least a thousand people out there. She was afraid to ask.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she announced in a thin voice.
Michael chuckled. “That should make for good ratings. My new apprentice, puking all over the set of my kitchen. Nice.”
Reese closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on deep-breathing exercises. A moment later her eyes snapped open, and she stared at Michael in fascinated disbelief.
“Are they… chanting your name? ”
“I believe so.” He winked at her. “I much prefer it when you do it, though.”
Reese blushed at the reference to the way she’d panted, chanted and screamed his name during sex. Though she’d been trying for days not to think about their lovemaking, she was grateful to him for taking her mind off her jittery nerves, if only for a few moments.
“Only you would think about that at a time like this,” she grumbled.
His lips curved in a rakish grin. “Food and sex,” he drawled. “A match made in heaven.”
She blushed harder.
The assistant producer, standing nearby, began his countdown.
Reese tensed up again.
Michael reached out and took her hand, his warm touch infusing her with the strength and courage she needed to get through the next hour.
“Just relax and be yourself,” he murmured. “They’re going to love you.”
She gave him a tremulous smile. “How do you know?”
Something softened in his gaze. “Because I?—”
“And we’re on!”
At the producer’s cue, Michael slowly released her hand and whispered, “See you soon” before striding out to the set to a deafening chorus of cheers and applause.
Reese watched, mesmerized, as he waved to the audience and shook hands with his band members, his father and uncle, and a bunch of random people in the first row. He kissed several women on the cheek—namely his mother, his aunt Prissy, Lexi Austin, Asha, Samara and Taylor Wolf. He exchanged fist bumps with Quentin, Marcus and their drop-dead gorgeous cousins, whose appearances on the show were huge fan favorites.
When he’d greeted enough guests, he made his way onto the stage.
A woman yelled out, “I love you, Michael!”
He grinned and blew her a kiss as laughter and catcalls rippled through the crowd. When a rowdy group of fraternity brothers barked in rapid succession, Michael cupped his hands around his mouth and barked back.
It was, Reese marveled, quite a sight to behold.
When the noise had finally subsided, Michael laid his hand over his heart in a gesture of utmost gratitude. “Thank you so much for that warm Southern welcome. I’m definitely feeling the love right now.”
“We missed you, Michael!” This came from a different, equally breathless woman.
He laughed. “I missed y’all, too. It’s great to be back for a fourth season of Howlin’ Good , and I thank all of you for being here and for tuning in at home. Before we get started, how about another round of applause for my amazing family?”
The audience cheered and clapped enthusiastically as his family members beamed with pleasure.
After acknowledging a few more special guests, Michael continued his introduction. “We’ve got a lot of exciting things on tap for you this season. But what I’m most excited about is the newest addition to our Howlin’ Good family. As you all know, this year we launched a nationwide search for an apprentice. I want to thank everyone who submitted your best recipes to us. We had so many amazing, creative dishes to choose from. But at the end of the day, a clear winner emerged, and when you meet her, I think you’ll understand why. So without further ado, I’d like to introduce you to my new apprentice, the beautiful and talented Reese St. James.”
Reese unglued her leaden feet from the floor and strolled out onto the set as the crowd showered her with applause and whistles. Bravely she smiled and waved, inwardly gulping as she took in the size of the studio audience.
As she approached Michael, their eyes met. Suddenly Reese forgot where she was, what she was doing and how she’d even gotten there. No man had ever looked at her the way Michael was looking at her now. It was indescribable, a look that drove everything else into the background until he alone was the focus of her attention. The focus of her universe.
This time when her stomach clenched and her pulse quickened, she knew it had nothing to do with stage fright.
As she joined him at the large center island, he gave her an intimate smile that melted her insides faster than a pat of butter tossed into a hot skillet.
What is he trying to do to me?
“Reese comes to us from Houston,” Michael announced, turning to address the audience. “We got any other Houstonians in the house?”
At the enthusiastic smattering of cheers, Reese grinned and pumped her fist in solidarity, which drew some appreciative laughter.
“Reese is a doctor,” Michael continued with a lazy smile, “but she’s taking time out of her busy schedule to study under her favorite chef.”
“That’s right, Michael,” Reese said with just the right touch of breathlessness. “You’re my favorite chef in the whole—” She broke off suddenly. “What’s wrong?”
Michael was frowning down at her white chef’s jacket, which had been monogrammed with RSJ —her initials.
“Uh, Reese?”
“Yes, Michael?”
“This is my show, right?”
She blinked innocently. “Of course.”
“So…why are you wearing your initials instead of mine?”
With a sheepish grin, she eased her hand over the embroidered letters. “Oops?”
Michael scowled, shaking his head at the audience. “This might end up being the shortest apprenticeship in history.”
As the crowd roared with laughter, Michael and Reese exchanged sly winks.
Backstage, after the taping of the show, Reese met the rest of the Wolf Pack men, an experience that left her feeling as awestruck as Dorothy after crash landing in Oz.
It wasn’t any one thing that dazed her.
It was the full force of their devastating good looks.
It was their amazing, almost indistinguishable resemblance to one another.
It was the deep, masculine rumble of their voices, their heart-stopping smiles and their husky laughter.
It was the confidence and charisma that oozed from their pores.
It was the combined impact of all these factors that packed a knockout punch.
Reese could feel herself blushing as they stood in a half circle around her, a towering wall of testosterone, looking and smelling so good as they congratulated her on her entertaining television debut and told her they’d never seen a woman go toe-to-toe with Michael like she did .
“My nephew has a heart of gold, but he can be a bully sometimes,” Stan Wolf revealed with a grin. “Looks like he might have finally met his match.”
“I hope so,” Reese laughed, feeling like a bit of an airhead. She had just seen Stan Wolf on the news that morning. As Atlanta fire chief, he’d stood at the podium answering questions about a new community initiative, and all she could think about was how dashingly handsome he looked in his impeccable dress uniform.
His five strapping sons were formidable in their own right.
Manning, the eldest, was founder and CEO of a Fortune 500 biotech company.
Montana was a Grammy Award-winning jazz musician whose saxophone-playing prowess was the stuff of legend.
Magnum was a decorated firefighter and a chip off the old block.
Maddox was a New York Times bestselling author whose deliciously diabolical imagination kept his horror novels flying off shelves.
And then there was NFL superstar Mason Wolf, all badass tattoos, trademark cornrows and cocky arrogance. While the others had given Reese warm handshakes, Mason had gone a step further. Closing his big broad fingers around hers, he’d leaned down and brought her hand to his full lips, kissing the back of it while staring right into her eyes.
Despite being head over heels in love with his cousin, Reese wasn’t immune to Mason’s wicked charms. His slick move had her pulse fluttering and her cheeks heating with a blush.
The man was downright dangerous. Seriously. It was scary.
When a hand touched Reese lightly on the back, she turned around to find Prissy Wolf standing there with a sparkling smile.
“Hello, Reese,” she said, pulling her into a warm hug. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too,” Reese said, surprised at how natural it felt to sink into the woman’s embrace, as if they’d known each other forever.
Prissy pulled away and beamed at her. She was an ageless beauty with supple brown skin, a perfectly sculpted short afro and a voluptuous full figure.
“You were wonderful out there. We thoroughly enjoyed every second.”
“I really appreciate that,” Reese said smilingly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I had so much fun. I’ve been a fan of Howlin’ Good for so long. It felt surreal to be sharing a stage with Michael. ”
Prissy gave her a twinkling smile. “Watching the two of you together was such a treat. You’re going to keep him on his toes, that’s for sure.”
“That’s what we were just telling her,” Stan chuckled, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “She’s gonna be a handful for Mike.”
Reese blushed for what had to be the millionth time that morning. Against her will, her gaze was drawn to where Michael stood talking with a group of network executives. Though he didn’t look her way, she sensed that he was aware of her watching him, but he was choosing not to acknowledge her.
“Okay, here I am. I had to pee so bad. Whew .”
Reese turned as they were joined by Taylor Wolf. The expectant mother was gorgeous, but pregnancy made her look even more radiant. Her brown skin was glowing, her dark eyes were luminous, and her natural hair looked soft and shiny with thick black curls bouncing past her shoulders.
“Hey, Reese. So good to meet you.” She gave her a hug, her baby bump round and warm between them. A world-renowned violinist, she appeared to be six months along in her pregnancy.
“Loved the show,” she told Reese as they pulled apart. “You and Michael had us cracking up. At one point I laughed so hard I almost peed myself.”
Reese laughed. She liked her immediately. “Congratulations on baby number three.”
“Thank you, Reese.” Taylor grinned. “Manning says you’re an ob-gyn. Can you tell if I’m having a boy or girl by the way I’m carrying?”
“Wish I could, but it doesn’t quite work that way,” Reese said with a chuckle. “How you carry has more to do with your muscle tone and the position the baby is in, as well as your body shape and how much weight you gain during pregnancy.”
“Hear that, Mom?” Taylor teased.
“Oh, I know it’s a myth,” Prissy admitted with a grin. “But I’ve had five boys and I carried each one low. And you carried Micah and Max low.”
“A happy coincidence. Right, Reese?”
Reese held up her hands. “Far be it from me to argue with the mother of five sons.”
“Smart woman,” Montana said.
Laughter rolled through the group.
“What’s your due date, Taylor?” Reese asked when the humorous moment passed.
“October sixteenth.”
Reese nodded, her guesstimate confirmed. “Do you and Manning want to know your baby’s sex?”
“We do. But then we don’t.” Taylor beamed up at her husband as he slipped an arm around her waist and tucked her against his side, nuzzling into her hair like he just couldn’t stop himself from touching her.
She smiled at Reese. “We’ve decided to let it be a surprise.”
“That said,” Manning added, “we’re both hoping for a girl.”
“We’re all hoping for a girl,” his mother emphasized. “Especially Mama Wolf.”
There were chuckles and nods of agreement as Marcus and Samara joined the group.
“What’re you guys talking about?” Marcus asked.
Stan grinned. “We’re wondering which one of you will be the first to bless Mama Wolf with the girl she’s been praying for.”
Manning and Marcus shared a look.
“No pressure, right?” Manning said.
“None whatsoever.” Marcus gulped and made an exaggerated show of tugging at his collar.
Everyone laughed.