Page 31 of Recipe for Temptation

“A doctor, huh?” His expression turned downright roguish. “Maybe you can help me out with this little problem I’ve been having. See, I?—”

“She’s an ob-gyn,” Michael told him smugly.

“She is?” Quentin had the decency to look embarrassed. “Damn. Never mind.”

Michael and Reese laughed.

Deciding to turn the tables on Quentin, Reese asked, “So what do you do for a living?”

“Nothing as noble as what you do,” he answered, lazily dipping his hands into his pockets. “I’m just a lawyer.”

“Q is a managing partner at my brother’s law firm,” Michael elaborated.

Quentin winked at Reese. “Marcus was the only one in this town crazy enough to hire me.”

Michael chuckled dryly, shaking his head at Reese. “As much as I’d like to agree with him, he’s being modest—which is rare. The truth is, he was working at one of the biggest law firms in the country when my brother lured him away. Marcus considers Quentin a real asset to his company.”

“I’m impressed.” Reese smiled at Quentin. “Would you like to sit down?”

“No,” Michael said flatly.

“Sure,” Quentin replied at the same time.

They stared each other down. Or rather, Michael glowered while Quentin looked unabashedly amused.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at their standoff, Reese said warmly, “Don’t mind him, Quentin. Please pull up a chair and join us.”

He did, flashing a triumphant grin at Michael as he sat right next to Reese. She decided not to read too much into Michael’s narrowed eyes and clenched jaw.

“How long have you guys known each other?” she asked, dividing a curious glance between both men.

“Mike and I go way back,” Quentin drawled, stretching out his long legs as he settled more comfortably into the chair. “We grew up in the same neighborhood, went to Morehouse together. Pledged the same fraternity.”

“Another Omega man, huh?” Reese gave him a whimsical smile. “So you’re Q the Que.”

“Yup, that’s what they called me.” A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “We called Mike the Wolfman, and not just because of his last name, either. You know that howl he does on his show, the famous howl that his fans go crazy over? Well, he’s been doing that for over twenty years. Wanna know how it got started?”

“She doesn’t need to know that,” Michael cut in brusquely.

“Oh, but I want to,” Reese countered with a grin. “I happen to really enjoy that howl, and if there’s an interesting story behind it, I’d love to hear it.”

Michael didn’t blink. “No.”

Quentin winked conspiratorially at Reese. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Like hell you will,” Michael growled, leveling a glare at his friend that promised violent retribution if Quentin defied him.

“On second thought, baby girl, it’s probably better that you don’t know.” Quentin’s grave tone belied the mischief twinkling in his hazel eyes. “I wouldn’t want to offend your feminine sensibilities.”

Reese laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“That good, you mean.” Quentin sighed nostalgically, drawing a dirty look from Michael.

Reese grinned. She could easily envision the two friends ruling campus parties along with a pack of rowdy, high-stepping frat brothers who rushed the dance floor every time “Atomic Dog” burst through the speakers. With their killer good looks and panty-melting smiles, Michael and Quentin must’ve been hella popular with the ladies. Clearly nothing had changed.

Michael looked relieved when one of his busboys appeared to clear their table and to tell him that his sous chef wanted his advice on wine pairings for tonight’s house specialty.

“Go on and handle your business,” Quentin urged, waving Michael off. “I’ll keep Reese company while you’re gone.”

---