Page 24 of Recipe for Temptation

“Whoa,” Marcus called out, raising his voice to be heard above the cacophony. “Grandpa can’t understand a word you boys are saying. One at a time.”

“Aw, leave ’em alone,” Sterling said good-naturedly. “This is music to my ears.”

Michael and Marcus exchanged amused glances. “Do you ever remember him saying that when we were growing up?” Marcus asked.

Michael grinned. “Nope.”

Pointedly ignoring them, Sterling whispered conspiratorially to his grandsons, “Ms. Frizell has a special treat waiting for you in the kitchen. Why don’t you go see what it is?”

With eager squeals, the boys took off down the hall in a flash of matching blue T-shirts and white sneakers.

Sterling smiled as he watched them go, the epitome of the proud, doting grandfather. He’d wept with joy the day the twins were born—the first time in years Michael had seen his tough, hard-nosed father reduced to tears.

Heaving a deep sigh of contentment, Sterling turned to Michael and Marcus. “It’s good to have the Wolf Pack together again,” he declared, draping an arm around each son’s shoulders as they started from the foyer. “Thanks for coming over and spending your Saturday with your old man.”

“You don’t have to thank us, Dad,” Marcus said, taking the words out of Michael’s mouth. “You know you’re the main reason Samara and I decided to move back to Atlanta. We wanted to be closer to you, and we didn’t want to deprive the boys of growing up around their grandfather.”

“I sure do appreciate that,” Sterling said earnestly. “The day you called to tell me that good news made me as happy as the day I found out your brother had strong-armed the network executives into letting him tape his show here instead of New York.”

Michael chuckled. “I didn’t ‘strong-arm’ anyone.”

“Actually, you did,” Marcus countered wryly. “When it was time to renegotiate your contract, you gave the network an ultimatum. Either they relocated your set to Atlanta, or you walked. But not only did you threaten to walk, you told them you’d approach Ted Turner with a proposal to use your show to launch a rival food network based in Atlanta. With Howlin’ Good being such a huge ratings hit, you knew how badly your producers wanted to keep you, so you played hardball.” His tone was laced with admiration. “And here I thought I was the ruthless lawyer in the family.”

Michael and Sterling laughed.

When they reached the kitchen, they found the twins perched on high-backed stools at the center island, munching happily on cupcakes decorated with miniature Mickey Mouse ears. Their hands and mouths were smeared with purple frosting, and when they looked up and flashed chocolaty grins, everyone dissolved into laughter.

After settling down the twins with an animated movie, Marcus joined his father and Michael on the veranda. Flopping into a chair at the wrought-iron table, he grabbed the glass of iced tea that’d been poured for him.

“Ahh. Good stuff,” he declared after taking a long, appreciative sip. “Another thing I missed about home—sweet tea. They don’t know the first thing about brewing good Southern sweet tea in Washington. One of these days I’ll have to ask Ms. Frizell what her secret ingredient is.”

Sterling grunted. “Good luck with that. I’ve already tried, and she won’t give it up.”

Michael chuckled. “She adds a little baking soda. It acts as a preservative to keep the tea from becoming cloudy and bitter.”

Marcus shook his head at Sterling. “Shoulda known she’d tell him. The chefs always stick together.”

“Of course.” Michael grinned.

“So how’s Lexi?” Sterling asked him. “Talk to her lately?”

“Doesn’t he always?” Marcus said with a grin.

Michael frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I believe your brother’s trying to imply that you and Lexi never go a day without talking to each other,” Sterling explained.

“So? What’s wrong with that? She’s one of my closest friends.”

“Right,” Marcus said dryly. “And it never occurred to you that she might want to be more than just a friend.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Of course it occurred to me. The first time we met was at a party where everyone we knew was paired off into couples.” Inwardly he smiled at the memory of the sloppy, drunken kiss he and Lexi had shared, the sparks that failed to ignite between them. In the ensuing years, she’d become that female friend every guy should have—the one he went to for dating advice and to get a woman’s perspective on the female psyche.

In all the time they’d been friends, Michael never once suspected that Lexi was secretly carrying a torch for him. He knew she wasn’t.

But Marcus seemed hell-bent on proving otherwise. “She’s never liked any of your girlfriends?—”

“Neither has Dad.”

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