Page 22 of Sweet Temptation

And thinking like that was a rabbit hole with no end. Shaking her head to clear it, she forced herself to focus on what Amy was saying.

“I was wondering...” Amy’s lips turned up in a smirk that Meg was all too familiar with. She stiffened, worried where her sister was going to take this conversation, yet knowing it’d be heading south...fast. Amy cocked her head, her grin widening. “I don’t think work is what’s been keeping you busy.”

Meg snatched her hand back, then hoped that the quick reaction was lost on her sister. From the gleam in her pretty blue eyes, she guessed it wasn’t.

“What?” Meg asked, widening her eyes innocently. Good God, she probably had sex written all over her, and no way was her sister going to let that go. Maybe dinner out was a bad idea. Maybe she should be hiding from her family until this affair was over. Telling them about John wasn’t conducive to her mental health. When he left, they’d ask a million questions, and it would create drama that she wasn’t interested in dealing with. Ever.

Nevertheless, while she wasn’t about to talk about what had been keeping her up at night, there was a part of her that wanted to talk about John, despite the commotion that was sure to follow in the early days after his disappearance. Maybe it was because she’d missed out on a big chunk of her childhood, missed the years of gossiping about boys with her friends.

Except John was no boy. No, he was a man, experienced, suave, lethal. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to leave here in a couple of days with her heart in the palm of his very deft hands.

“Oh, I just thought something else might be preoccupying you,” Amy said, her brow raised playfully as she took a generous sip of her margarita.

Don’t ask, Meg. Don’t ask.

“Like what?” she asked.

Kill me now.

Amy lifted her finger to draw a circle in the air, one that outlined Meg’s face. “You almost look a little windburned, sis. Only problem is, it hasn’t been windy lately.” She leaned closer and narrowed her eyes. “The only other logical explanation is...those are whisker burns on your cheeks.”

Oh shit.

Amy’s laugh carried through the restaurant, and Meg groaned, fighting the urge to hide her face. She didn’t want to tell her sister about her and John. Dammit, there was no her and John. Not really. They were simply having an affair, one that came with an expiration date, and she’d be wise to remember that.

She’d left his arms last night, and today was about reconnecting with her sister, not reminiscing about the way he’d taken care of her, wiped her eyes when she’d told him something painfully personal. She certainly hadn’t expected him to make a gift of her words, wiping away her tears and...comforting her. Tender, that was what he’d been, and she wasn’t sure it was something she could bounce back from.

Something had changed between them last night, something she couldn’t define. Honestly, if she hadn’t felt things for him before...that profound moment would have been icing on the damn cake.

When she’d started this thing with John, he was all icing. All delicious goodness to be licked off with her tongue until the sugar became too sweet and she’d had her fill. But no, he was proving to be the sturdy surface that supported the icing—and that was a problem for her.

God, maybe she was just tired, getting up at four to bake all those bagels and muffins. That had to be why her stupid emotions were on a roller-coaster ride with no stop button in sight.

“Hello, earth to Meg,” Amy said, bringing her thoughts back to the present.

Meg blinked once, then twice until her sister’s smirking face came into view again.

“Want to talk about him?” Amy asked.

Meg picked up her taco and bit into it, humming nonchalantly around a mouthful of cheesy goodness.

Amy laughed. “Okay, I get it. But I have to say, it’s a good look on you, sis.” She gestured to the window, and Meg turned, catching her reflection. Truthfully, she did look happier, far more relaxed than she had in ages, and damn if her skin wasn’t all flushed and smooth.

That’s what good sex does to a girl.

That thought made her smile, but it dissolved quickly, the bite she’d just swallowed ready to rise for a second viewing when reality came crashing over her like a tsunami. It didn’t matter how good the sex was, how tender John had been with her. All of this would be over in a few days, and it was time for her to pull herself together once and for all.

She dropped the rest of her taco and plastered on a smile. “What do you say we go have some fun?”

“There’s my girl.” Amy wiped her mouth with the napkin as Meg gestured for the bill. She paid for dinner and wrapped her arm around her sister as they made their way to her favorite wine bar. The thump of bass shook the ground below them as they approached, and boom. Once again, her mind was on John, and the night, that first night, right here in this wine bar.

Amy pushed the door open. Floral perfume and sandalwood cologne clogged the air and assaulted her senses. Numerous eyes turned in their direction, and Meg chuckled. The Marchande girls knew how to make an entrance, and it was all about confidence. It didn’t hurt that her sister, with all her colorful ink and unapologetic attitude, drew stares, many from males, and all appreciative. She tugged on Amy’s arm, and her sister’s dreads tickled Meg’s nose when she put her mouth near her ear.

“Grab us a table. I need to make a quick trip to the bathroom.”

“Look at you. And you didn’t even have to set the alarm,” Amy teased.

Laughing, Meg made a beeline for the bathroom, cutting through the nearly empty dance floor, but a calloused hand scraped lightly down her arm and stopped her cold. The touch was vaguely familiar, but it didn’t give her all the feels like John’s. Still, no one touched her without her permission.

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