Married to a powerful businessman feared all-over Portland, Mia Kingston has a reputation to uphold. As the CEO of MK, her own lingerie brand, everyone believes she has everything, including the perfect marriage most women envy.
She's beautiful, s...
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Warm water cascades down my skin as the shower does its magic. I rub my hair gently, my head tilted heavenward, letting myself get lost into my world of bliss and sexy fantasy.
My God, I fucked him again!
First time was a mistake. But what about this time? I ponder. And yet my profligate, shameless face twists into a million roses, smiling at the marvel of Red's kisses and all the things he did to me earlier.
You're in deep trouble, Mia.
Fresh from the shower, I slip into the closet. I need something simple and homey to suffice my evening that's just begun. Holy shit, I've got to cook dinner. The thought makes me wary and excited at the same time.
"What should I cook, huh?" I mumble while skimming through the hung up clothes in the open wardrobe. "And what should I wear?" I sigh, glad that my troubles right now are all sleazy and mundane.
I've casted aside all the bigger ones. I want to feel normal.
A red sundress draws my attention right away. Is it the color? I flush. Decidedly, I pluck it from the hanger. Spaghetti straps, thigh length, and loose—it's just perfect for my mood.
Red is still in his room. The kitchen is neat and well arranged, including the forsaken groceries. I wonder when Red cleared everything. I giggle at the sight of our crime scene. Oh boy!
After scratching my head for a while, I finally decide on what I should prepare for dinner. However, I think I may need a little help from my most favorite person in the world if I want everything to be a total success.
"I miss you, too, but that's not the only reason I called. I want the recipe for that chicken grill you make," I whine into the phone, talking to my mom.
Sophie Diaz gasps loudly enough for me to hear. I roll my eyes while opening the fridge. So what if I'm famous for having a natural feud with the kitchen? A lazy girl can cook sometimes, come on! I smile to myself.
"You want to cook, honey? Why? What have you done this time?" my mom asks mildly.
I hold the fridge door open, huffing. "What have I done? What do you mean?" Gosh, she can be so absurd.
"I mean, you only cook when every restaurant is closed, Mia. Or when you want to please someone. So have you fought with your husband and you're trying to make up with him through his stomach?" Mom probes, pretending to know it all.
I chuckle. God, I miss her so much.
"None of that, Sophie." I proceed with my task, taking the ingredients out to start making my intended meal. "I just want to try making that delicious chicken only you can make."
"Hmm. Okay. Tell me what else you're making so that I can decide which recipe to give you," she says happily.
"Um . . . Baked potatoes and cucumber salad," I reply. Putting my phone into a loudspeaker right on the breakfast table, I start moving here and there while following my Mom's instructions.
