Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
T he scene at the breakfast table the next morning would have made good material for a sociological study on human dynamics.
In an ironic role reversal from last night, Reese was sullen and subdued while Michael bantered cheerfully with his family. His upbeat mood rankled her, taunting her with memories of their illicit moonlight encounter—an encounter that had left her body thrumming with sexual tension and frustration for the rest of the night.
Every time Michael laughed or flashed one of his killer grins, Reese wanted to stab him with her fork. Once, when he’d caught her glaring at him, he’d smiled and winked at her. If small children hadn’t been present, she might have flipped him the bird.
But Michael wasn’t the only one in an exceptionally good mood. Marcus and Samara were back to stealing private smiles at each other, while Sterling was so jovial and relaxed that if Reese didn’t know better, she would think Marcus wasn’t the only member of the Wolf Pack who’d gotten laid last night.
In sharp contrast, Celeste was silent and grim faced, shooting dirty looks at Asha throughout the meal. But Asha seemed unconcerned, exuding an aura of serenity that repelled any and all daggers thrown her way.
Only Grant, buried behind a newspaper, seemed oblivious to all the undercurrents at the table. When Celeste discreetly nudged him at one point, he set aside the paper with a sheepish grin and reached for his coffee mug. As he drank, he appeared to be casting about for something to contribute to the conversation.
Finally, he blurted the first thing that obviously came to mind: “That sure was a beautiful full moon last night.”
“Sure was,” Michael agreed, his wicked gaze meeting Reese’s. She hated herself for blushing.
Marcus smiled lazily. “You know what they say. Strange things happen when there’s a full moon.”
Sterling chuckled into his coffee. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Asha choked on the orange juice she’d been sipping.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Samara asked in concern.
Asha nodded quickly, her dark eyes glimmering with mirth as she set down her glass and delicately fanned her face with her hand. Celeste frowned.
Marcus grinned at his father and brother. “Hey, remember what we used to do on our camping and fishing trips? Whenever there was a full moon, we’d all sit around the campfire?—”
“—and howl at the moon,” Sterling and Michael finished, laughing.
“Is that where Michael got his famous howl from?” Reese asked curiously, still not addressing him directly.
Sterling grinned. “If anything, we got it from him. Starting from the time he was five years old, he’d always howl after eating something he really liked. So we started putting food into two categories—there was good , and then there was howlin’ good .”
Reese smiled at Michael, so charmed by the anecdote that she temporarily forgot she was supposed to be mad at him. “So that’s how you came up with the name of your show.”
He nodded, his eyes glinting with amused satisfaction. As if he, too, realized that she’d let her guard down.
“Needless to say,” Celeste chimed in, brightening for the first time all morning, “whenever my cooking received one of Michael’s coveted ‘howlin’ good’ ratings, I strutted around for the rest of the day like I was Julia Child.”
Everyone laughed.
Reese didn’t miss the smug glance Celeste shot at Asha, while Grant looked pleased that his innocuous comment had generated such a lively discussion.
Unable to resist an opportunity to make Michael squirm, Reese said ever so innocently, “Someday I’d love to hear the other story behind the howl.”
“What other story?” Sterling asked.
Everyone looked inquiringly at Michael, whose expression had gone carefully blank.
“Oh, come on, Michael,” Reese prompted in a deceptively puzzled voice, as if she couldn’t understand why he was playing dumb. “You know the story I’m talking about. Remember? The one Quentin said would offend my feminine sensibilities?”
Celeste gasped. “Michael Sterling Wolf,” she scolded, as only a scandalized mother could.
As Michael ducked his head, laughter erupted around the table.
From beneath the thick veil of his lashes, he gave Reese a look that promised retribution. She responded with a huge, triumphant grin.
She’d already learned that when it came to besting this man, she’d take whatever victories she could get. Because she knew they’d be few and far between.
After breakfast, Asha came up alongside Reese as they were leaving the dining room. “Samara and I are treating ourselves to an afternoon of shopping. If you don’t have any plans today, perhaps you’d like to join us.”
Reese beamed at her. “I’d like that very much,” she said, excited at the prospect of going shopping with the famous fashion mogul. Being able to try on clothes and get feedback from Asha Dubois was something any woman would kill for.
“Samara tells me you’re staying near them in Buckhead,” Asha said, stopping and turning to face Reese.
“That’s right. I’m housesitting for a friend.”
“Perfect. Samara and I brought our things over last night, so after we get ready, we’ll swing by your place to let you change clothes before we head over to the mall.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Reese agreed, secretly wondering if anyone ever argued with this confident, take-charge woman. Anyone other than Sterling Wolf, that is.
Asha suddenly hesitated, adding as an afterthought, “Oh, but maybe you’d better check with Michael first.”
Reese bristled, her smile fading. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Are you sure? Perhaps he was hoping to spend the day with you.”
Heat flooded Reese’s cheeks. Stiffly she said, “We’re not together, Ms. Dubois.”
“No?” Asha assessed her, a calculating glint in her eyes that made Reese want to squirm.
“We just met,” she elaborated, feeling the need to explain herself. “We’re going to be working together on his show. And I’m, uh, sort of in a relationship.”
“Sort of?”
“We’re, um, on a break. But still technically together.” Reese swallowed uncomfortably. “The point is, Michael and I aren’t involved.”
“Hmm.” Asha’s gaze traveled past her. “You might want to tell him that.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Reese saw Michael standing nearby with Marcus and Samara. He was chatting with the couple, but his gaze was on Reese. The hot, possessive gleam in his eyes couldn’t have been more potent if he’d run his hands all over her body.
She shivered, heat pulsing through her veins. She dragged her gaze away in time to see Asha’s lips curving in a soft, intuitive smile.
“He’s been watching you like that since yesterday. I could be wrong, darling, but any man who looks at a woman that way has no intention of surrendering without a fight.”
Reese’s stomach flip-flopped. Michael’s dangerously seductive promise drifted through her mind, taunting her. It’s only a matter of time before I’ll have you for the main course.
She swallowed hard. “We’re not involved,” she repeated, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself more than Asha.
The knowing twinkle in Asha’s eyes told her she wasn’t buying it, anyway. But thankfully, she made no further comment.
Slipping her arm through Reese’s, she began ushering her down the hallway. “Let’s get going. I have some designs in mind that will be very flattering on you.”
Reese grinned meekly. “Yes, ma’am.”
As if refusing was even an option.
Reese’s phone rang as she stepped through the front door that evening, her arms laden with shopping bags. Bumping the door closed with her hip, she divested herself of her baggage and fumbled the phone out of her handbag on the final ring.
“Hello?” she answered breathlessly.
“Hey,” Michael’s deep voice poured into her ear.
And just like that, her knees went weak.
Dragging her fingers through her hair, she made her way into the living room and sank into the nearest chair. “I just got home,” she said in lieu of a greeting.
“I know.”
“You know?” She glanced around, half expecting to find him lurking in the shadows with his phone to his ear.
Michael chuckled, as if he’d intercepted her paranoid thoughts. “I just spoke to Marcus. Samara called to tell him they were dropping you off and would be home soon.”
“I see. I’m assuming you’d already instructed Marcus to give you a heads-up?”
“Pretty much.” There was a smile in his voice. “How was the shopping trip?”
“Fun. Exhausting.” She sighed. “I see why Lenox Square Mall is considered the shopping Mecca of the South. And Asha wore me and Samara out.”
Michael chuckled. “And she’s the older one. What’s wrong with that picture?”
Reese grinned. “What can I say? The woman was in her element.”
“I can imagine. So, did you get something pretty?”
“I got a lot of something pretty,” Reese said laughingly, surveying the mountain of bags bearing the emblems of glitzy, upscale shops. Not only had Asha handpicked every outfit for her—the woman knew fashion like nobody’s business—she’d also footed the bill for the entire shopping excursion. Though Reese had vigorously protested, Asha refused to take no for an answer .
As expected, they’d received red-carpet treatment everywhere they went, greeted by gushing salespeople who’d tripped over themselves to do Asha’s bidding. The first time they were served champagne, Reese had gaped at Samara, who’d shrugged and grinned, saying, “It’s a pain in the ass, but you get used to it.”
Reese didn’t see how that was remotely possible. Though she’d thoroughly enjoyed shopping with Asha, the dizzying pace of the experience had left her craving a hot, relaxing bath and a glass of chilled wine.
But first she had to get Michael off the phone.
She opened her mouth to tell him goodnight, but what came out instead was, “Where are you, anyway?”
“At the restaurant.”
“You’ve been there all day?”
“Yeah.”
She slipped off her flat sandals and rubbed her sore feet, thinking of their sublimely sensual midnight encounter. It alarmed her to realize that this man, whom she hardly knew, could possess such mastery of her body. If they ever made love, she’d be ruined forever.
“I don’t hear a lot of noise in the background,” she observed.
“That’s because I’m sitting on the balcony,” Michael murmured. “At our table.”
Our table . The words reverberated in her mind as a melting warmth spread through her, a deep longing.
She forced out a laugh that sounded strangled to her own ears. “So now we have a table?”
“Yeah,” he said huskily. “We do.”
“Come on,” she scoffed. “Do you really expect me to believe you’ve never taken another woman up to the balcony?”
“You’re the first, Reese.”
God help her, she believed him. Closing her eyes, she drew a deep, shaky breath and slowly exhaled. “Michael…”
“I need you?—”
“ Michael .”
“—to come down to the restaurant.”
Her eyes snapped open. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “You need me to do what?”
“Come to the restaurant. That’s actually the reason I was calling. If you want to be my apprentice, you should familiarize yourself with the inner workings of a restaurant. So tonight I’m giving you a front-row seat to our busy kitchen.”
Reese groaned. “That sounds lovely, Michael, but does it have to be tonight ?”
“Tonight’s perfect. Tuesdays are generally our slowest nights, so it won’t be a complete madhouse. Besides, aren’t you the one who said you were trying to get into your new role as my apprentice?”
The man remembered everything, damn him. “I did, and I am. But tonight doesn’t work for me.”
“Tonight, Reese.”
“Oh, come on, Michael,” she wheedled. “It’s already after seven. And Asha ran me ragged today. My feet are killing me.”
He laughed. “Don’t ever whine to a chef about having sore feet after a leisurely afternoon of shopping. Trust me, you won’t get any sympathy.”
She bit her lip, feeling a pang of shame. “I guess you have been on your feet all day, slaving in a hot kitchen.”
“That’s right, and you don’t hear me complaining. So suck it up, buttercup.”
Reese heaved a dramatic sigh of resignation. “All right. I’m coming, I’m coming.”
“Mmm,” came his low, husky rumble. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”
Heat stung her cheeks at the sexual innuendo. “Down, boy.”
“Too late.” He chuckled. “Anyway, your cab should be there in a few minutes.”
“ What ? You already called me a cab?”
“Yeah. I’ll drive you home afterward.”
Her hackles rose. “Don’t you think it was a bit presumptuous of you to call a cab before you’d even spoken to me?”
“Absolutely.” He was infuriatingly unapologetic. “Look, babe, I have to go. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Reese sputtered in protest, but he’d already hung up on her.