Page 101 of Recipe for Temptation

Overcome with emotion, Sterling grabbed her hand and strode toward the house, where Michael and Marcus stood on the front steps gaping at them in disbelief.

“Help the driver carry Asha’s luggage up to my room,” Sterling told them gruffly.

“Yes, sir,” Marcus said.

Amused, Michael drawled, “And where are you lovebirds headed?”

Sterling and Asha shared a smile. “The guesthouse.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Reese could hear her mother and sister whispering to each other, hovering outside the living room where she’d been parked on the sofa for most of the day.

She would’ve preferred to lick her wounds in the privacy of her own home. But she’d disconnected her electricity while she was away on sabbatical, and the power wouldn’t be restored until Monday. So she’d spent the weekend moping around her parents’ house, feeling like an insect under a microscope.

Her mother and sister had started whispering again. Biting back an impatient sigh, Reese grabbed the remote and punched up the volume.

She could still hear them. Crap.

“I’m trying to watch TV here,” she groused.

The whispering stopped.

She continued channel surfing, though nothing was grabbing her attention. She just needed something, anything, to keep her mind off who and what she’d left behind in Atlanta.

The who was Michael. The what was her heart.

When the whispering started back up again, Reese heaved an exasperated breath.

“If you’re going to talk about me, can you at least do it to my face?”

Her mother and sister came into the room with the wary caution of someone entering a minefield, taking one step at a time. With their golden brown skin and highlighted dark hair, mother and daughter shared a striking resemblance, like snapshots of the same woman taken twenty-five years apart.

They joined her on the sofa, flanking her on either side.

“Sorry for all the whispering,” Emery St. James said ruefully. “We’re just worried about you, that’s all. You’ve hardly said a word since you came home. Something is clearly bothering you.”

“Clearly.” Raina sounded a little frustrated. “I wish you’d just tell us what happened. Did you and Michael have a fight? Is that why you left?”

Reese’s throat tightened. She pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “I’m sorry for worrying you guys. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about it. Not right now.”

Concerned looks passed between her mother and sister.

Reese navigated to Netflix and scrolled through rows of popular recommendations, hoping to lose herself in something mindless that wouldn’t remind her of Michael. So romcoms were off the table. Same went for The Great British Baking Show. Naturally, Netflix’s algorithms trolled her with nothing but romcoms and cooking shows.

Her mother gently stroked her hair, which hadn’t seen a comb all weekend. “You know you can talk to us, sweetheart. No matter what happens, we’ll always be here for you.”

“I know, Mom, and I appreciate that. I’m just…I’m not…” Tears clogged her throat, burning her nose and eyes as she whispered, “I made a fool of myself. A complete and utter fool.”

“In what way?” her mother asked.

She just sniffled and shook her head.

Raina went into protective mode. “Does Warrick need to kick his ass? Because you know he will if I ask him to.”

Reese choked out a watery laugh. “Not that your offer doesn’t sound tempting, but no, an ass kicking won’t be necessary.”

Raina looked dubious. “If you change your mind?—”

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