Cherie went completely still when Reese mentioned attending college, as she remembered Bettina Wilson saying that Reese had enlisted in the army after graduating high school. “You went to college.” The query was a statement.
“Yes. Does that surprise you?”
“Well—I—” she stammered, struggling to get her words out. “I shouldn’t be surprised because I really don’t know you.”
“That’s true, but since we both live on Coates Island, I’m certain we’ll get to know a lot more about each other.”
“I’ll suppose we’ll have to level the playing field, because, Deputy Matthews, you do know more about me than I know about you.”
Reese smiled, and the expression was so sensual that Cherie felt her pulse quicken as she was caught up in a spell of longing that made her weak in the knees. She didn’t know what it was about the man that made her whole being fill with a desire for him to make love to her. It had been that way the first time she saw him walk into the Seaside Café to pick up a takeout order. At first, she’d believed he was curious or even suspicious because he’d never seen her before. Yet it had happened again when she’d gone to the mainland to shop for gifts for Kayana and Leah. Just for several seconds, she’d met his eyes before going inside the jewelry store.
Cherie had admitted to Leah and Kayana that she’d only been with one man and, because of that, was wholly unprepared for what to expect if or when a man should express an interest in her. She hadn’t dated before leaving home to attend the prep school because she didn’t want to get involved with any of the boys in her neighborhood and possibly end up pregnant, which seemed their intent whenever they went out with a girl. It was as if they’d made a pact to see how many children they could father before turning twenty.
And now, in hindsight, Cherie realized she hadn’t been prepared to sleep with Weylin, but he’d been so persuasive that she’d found it hard to resist him. After a while, it was obvious she wasn’t the first girl he’d slept with, and when she’d told him she couldn’t afford to get pregnant, he’d assured her that wouldn’t happen because he always used condoms. Even after they’d agreed never to see each other again, she wondered what it would’ve been like to sleep with another man.
“That’s true, Miss Thompson,” Reese said, breaking into her thoughts. “But that’s only when I’m a deputy asking you pertinent questions about a crime. And that’s very different now because I’m currently not in that capacity.”
“Which means what, Reese?”
“That I’d like to get to know Cherie.”
Their eyes met. It was apparent they wanted the same thing. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” she said in a quiet voice. An expression of shock froze his features before he nodded. It was obvious he hadn’t expected her to agree.
He lowered his head and brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “Thank you.”
Cherie hoped Reese couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart through her sweatshirt. “You have your book, and I have to go downstairs and check on my meat loaf before it turns into a brick. You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”
“I was hoping you’d ask. Thank you.”
Turning on her heel, she left the room, leaving Reese to turn off the light. He was hoping she’d ask, and she’d hoped he would accept. Cherie knew she’d turned a corner in purging Weylin completely from her past, now that she looked forward to having an open relationship with a man that wasn’t an affair.
Chapter 13
“If I were to grade you on tonight’s dinner, I’d definitely give you an A, Cherie,” Reese said as he set down his fork.
She’d talked about upping her game to compete with the owners of the Seaside Café, but Cherie didn’t realize she had a natural talent for cooking. Not only could she follow a recipe; she also had the wherewithal to modify it to make it her own. She’d used ground beef and veal, and had removed sweet and andouille sausages from their casings to substitute for the pork; the result enhanced the flavor of the moist meat, topped with a savory tomato sauce and Panko bread crumbs. He watched her whip up a bowl of creamy mashed potatoes and sauté freshly washed spinach in garlic and oil.
Cherie lowered her eyes, enchanting Reese with the demure gesture. “If I’d known I was going to have company, I would’ve made a salad and baked some bread.”
“You didn’t need the salad or bread, bae. What you made was perfect. If I hadn’t eaten with you, I would’ve heated up some leftovers.”
She smiled. “Didn’t you say that you cook?”
Reese nodded. “I do.”
“Who taught you?”
“My grandmother.”
Cherie’s eyebrows lifted. “There’s nothing like a grandmama’s cooking. Even though we were Connecticut Yankees, I grew up eating southern food.”
“What part of the South were your folks from?”
“South Carolina.”
“Gullah?” he asked.
“Down to the marrow in my bones. My great-grandmother came north during the Great Migration. She settled in New York City for a couple of years before moving to Connecticut when a municipal hospital advertised for laundry workers. That’s where she met my great-grandfather, who worked there as an orderly. They got married and moved into a low-income housing development in New Haven. When they moved there, it was a suitable place for families raising their children. It was where my grandmother was born and where she had my mother, and where Momma had us. Even before my mother was born, the neighborhood had changed, becoming infested with crime and drugs.”
