Page 76 of Recipe for Temptation

Reese’s grin widened. When she made an exaggerated show of glancing over his broad shoulder, Quentin eyed her curiously.

“What’re you looking for?” he asked.

“The string of broken hearts you left in your wake on your way over here.”

He laughed, the sound curling around her like a drift of smoke. “I like you.”

She fluttered her lashes at him. “Oh, Quentin,” she said in a breathy voice. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Again he laughed, shaking his head at her. “Gorgeous and sassy. Damn, girl, you are deadly.”

“Thanks.” Reese grinned, raising her glass in a mock toast before taking a long sip of champagne.

A companionable silence lapsed between them as they watched Marcus and Samara swaying together on the dance floor, lost in their own private world.

“It’s like being at their wedding again,” Quentin murmured.

Reese smiled softly. “I bet it was beautiful. This garden has ‘romantic wedding’ written all over it.”

“It was. Most definitely.” He slid a glance at her. “Even Mike cried.”

Reese gaped at him. “He did?”

Quentin laughed. “Well, he got choked up,” he amended, as if he realized he’d violated an unwritten bro code: Never make your best friend look like a sap to a member of the opposite sex.

“There’s nothing wrong with men crying at weddings,” Reese remarked. “Especially your brother’s wedding. I know how close Michael and Marcus are. I’m sure he was very happy for him.”

“Of course,” Quentin agreed. “We all were. Especially since no one saw it coming.”

“Oh? Did Marcus have commitment issues like his brother?” The moment the words left her mouth, Reese wished she could snatch them back. She’d all but confessed to Quentin that she was falling for his best friend, something she wasn’t even ready to admit to herself.

Quentin’s eyes narrowed on her face, silently assessing her. After a prolonged moment he nodded slowly, though Reese didn’t know whether he was responding to her question or confirming a suspicion about her.

A small, rueful smile touched his mouth. “When we were growing up, there were these two old ladies who used to congregate on their front porch. Every poor neighborhood has them—the nosy gossips who keep the grapevine going. Mike’s parents’ divorce was one of the juiciest scandals to ever hit the block, because of the way things went down. After Mike’s mom moved out, every time he and I walked to the corner store, we’d pass those two old ladies. And without fail, we’d hear them cluck their tongues and say to each other—and I quote—‘Gonna take a miracle to tame those Wolf boys. Both of them are gonna be heartbreakers. You can thank their mama for that.’”

Reese stared at him. “Every time?”

“Every time.”

She grimaced and shook her head sympathetically. “That must have been really hard for Michael, having to hear that all the time.”

Quentin shrugged. “He got used to it eventually, learned to tune them out. Two years later he was off to college, and poor Marcus had to deal with it. Anyway, you mentioned their commitment issues, so I just wanted to give you some context.”

Reese nodded slowly. “What you’re telling me is that Michael and Marcus were really scarred by their parents’ divorce.”

“Yeah,” Quentin said quietly. “But I’m not going to get into specifics. I’ll let Mike do that.”

“What makes you think he’s going to confide in me?”

A soft, enigmatic smile curved Quentin’s lips. “Call it a hunch.”

Reese followed his lazy gaze across the garden to where Michael stood talking to an attractive, creamy-toned woman resplendent in shimmering Chanel. Reese remembered seeing the woman at her audition, and again at today’s taping. Whenever they’d made eye contact, Reese felt as if she were being sized up.

She thought of the woman who’d texted Michael on the way home that night. Shauna. Could that be her?

Only one way to find out.

“Who’s that woman?” Reese asked, feigning only casual interest.

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