Sweet on You (13 page)

"Who is he?" Tony barked. "What does he do? Have you had him checked out?"

She winced, thinking about how angry Daniela was going to be when she found out she'd spilled the beans to Tony.

Would it annoy her or please her to have someone quiz her about Brian? It seemed like it'd be nice to have someone care so much that he interrogated her about the guy she was dating. Not that she was
dating
Brian. Not really, anyway.

"Marley," Tony snapped. "You're not listening."

"I didn't realize you were finished talking." She slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified that she let that slip. "Sorry, Tony. I didn't mean that exactly."

"Exactly? What the hell is going on out there? You don't sound like yourself either. Are you dating someone, too?"

He said it like it was inconceivable, so she defiantly said, "Yes, I am."

There was stunned silence—on both ends of the line.

She lifted her chin and doubled down. "Brian Benedict is great. Successful, handsome, and funny. And we have great chemistry."

Since he was Italian, Tony spoke effusively anyway, but right now he sounded especially loud. "You and Daniela move across the country, and you go crazy like co-eds on spring break."

"We haven't made any topless videos." Because some devil prodded her, she added, "Yet."

"This conversation is far from finished, Marley." He hung up.

She gripped her phone so tightly it was a wonder the case didn't crack. Her knees should have been trembling, and she should have been afraid for her job. She should have worried that she's blown her chance with Tony. But she felt...

Angry
.

How dare he sound like it was such a stretch for her to date someone? She wasn't completely hideous, and she was nice. When she wanted to be, at least. Men wanted her. Sometimes.

She could prove it. Eyes narrowed, she made another call.

Brian answered right away. "Marley, is the world ending?"

"Not before we go to see a movie together."

"The world is definitely ending if you're asking me to a movie, but I think we can squeeze it in before it's all over. They're showing
Die Hard
at the Castro. It's a Christmas Classic if there ever was one."

"Great," she agreed savagely.

"You want to catch the early showing, or a later one?"

"Early."

"Excellent. I'll pick you up." He paused. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You want me for my ride?"

She smiled, just a little, his light-heartedness crowding her anger away. "It
is
really sexy."

"Damn. I knew it." He sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll have to deal."

She laughed.

"I love that sound. You should make it more. I'll text you before I head over. Marley?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you called," he said softly before he hung up.

She set her phone down. She was too.

It was the best moving watching experience
ever
.

Every time Bruce Willis came on the screen, the audience would yell "
McLane!
" They'd boo the bad guys and cheer every time there was an explosion.

But the real magic was with Brian. They shared popcorn with Junior Mints mixed in (her idea) and held hands (his idea).

Marley left the showing high on sugar and happiness. After a sushi snack, they got fresh cookies from next to the theater and cartons of milk and headed to her place.

She still felt fizzy and effervescent when Brian pulled into the driveway and parked—so much so she impulsively said, "Let's have our cookies in the backyard."

"Okay." Brian took her hand and let her lead the way.

The half-moon was their only light, so she went slowly. "I don't come back here that often."

"It's a shame. It's awesome." Brian nodded at the stone wall fencing the yard in. "Let's sit up there."

"Let's."

She watched him find a toe-hold and boost himself up, following his example less gracefully. She shifted her butt off a sharp spot, letting her legs dangle over the other side.

"Here." He handed her a carton of milk. "Chocolate chip cookie first?"

"Yes." She set the milk next to her and took the half cookie he held out. It was still warm from the oven, the chocolate chips melty and slightly bitter.

"I love cookies like this," Brian admitted. "My best friend's mom used to make cookies like this for us."

"Not your mom?"

"Hell no." He faked a shudder. "My mom is fantastic and talented in many ways that exclude cooking. She manages to burn water."

Marley smiled. "My mom's the same way. Growing up, I knew all the phone numbers for restaurants that delivered by heart."

"But now you have all the warm chocolate chip cookies you want."

She shook her head. "Daniela doesn't bake just for us. These days, she's not around that often either, though she has been baking more."

"Bummer." He held out another cookie. "Snickerdoodle?"

She broke half, swinging her feet, happy. "I didn't know you'd be able to see the lights of Golden Gate Bridge from here."

He nudged her shoulder with his. "Stick with me, kid. I'll take you places."

The brush of his body, even with all the layers of clothing, made her shiver. Impulsively, she turned her head and kissed his cheek.

"You missed." He pointed to his mouth.

Eyes narrowing, she braced herself on the wall, leaned, and kissed him on his lips.

He let her. Literally—he didn't make a move to help or encourage, nothing more than shifting closer to make it easier on her.

Giddy with power, she leaned into him, pressing herself to the side of his body. He tasted sweet, like cinnamon and chocolate. Daniela would have said those were the ingredients for seduction.

Was she ready to seduce?

Confused, she pulled back.

She'd have expected Brian to let her go. He surprised her by catching her by the back of her head. He held her close and took her mouth all over again.

He tore her world apart.

One touch of his lips redefined a kiss in her mind. It was more than the sweet kisses they'd shared before. It whispered of passion and dark need, of perilous heights and thrilling falls. It engulfed and enflamed. It made her soar and grounded her at once.

Something inside her body shifted, melted, came to life. She gasped, holding his arms to keep steady. "I think I just discovered your superpower," she murmured against his talented lips.

"As long as it's your Kryptonite." As he kissed her again, his hand snuck inside her sweater, and she felt it warm and exciting on her skin.

Then he lifted his head, brushing her tingling lips with his thumb, looking into her eyes like all the secrets of life were there. "Go out with me," he said. "On a real date, where it's purposeful, and I bring you flowers and take you to dinner and get nervous about whether you'll let me get to second base after."

"What's this?" Her voice was so husky with desire she didn't recognize it.

"This is an accidental encounter brought on by unseen forces." He held her chin with his fingers. "I'd like to go out once knowing that we're on the same page. That you admit you like me."

"I always liked you."

"Enough to go on a date with me?"

She tried to think of Tony, but the only face in her mind was Brian's. A date with him? That'd be...

Nice.

Fun.

Hot, if making out tonight was any indication.

Maybe Valentine was right. Maybe she should just try it.

So she nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." He exhaled, letting her go. "Good."

Trying not to feel bereft by the loss of touch, she straightened her clothing. "Brian?"

"Marley?" He hopped down from the wall and held his arms open.

She jumped into them, knowing without a doubt that he'd catch her. She slid down his body and braced her hands on his shoulders. "You don't need to worry about getting to second base."

His smile was like the sun rising. "Good to know."

She gave him what she hoped was a mysterious smile and led him back through the garden.

Chapter Eighteen

Daniela slipped into sassy red heels that were going to kill her feet in an hour. But Nico would love them, and he was taking her to the opera tonight, so she figured he deserved some sort of reward.

He hated opera. He hadn't said as much, but she could tell it wasn't his thing. She'd grown up with it. Of course, her brother had grown up with it too, and he hated it, so maybe it was a guy thing.

Nico didn't talk about his childhood—ever. But if she had to guess, she'd have said knife fights in alleyways were the evening entertainments he enjoyed, not opera.

She went downstairs, swinging her purse. Whatever his childhood, he'd made the most of himself. He was successful, determined, and caring, though he'd deny that.

She liked him.

It was sweet now, but she wasn't sure how long it'd last. She couldn't tell how he felt about the fact that she was buying the building. Since the day Chris Ludlow had consented to sell her the building, they'd had a tacit agreement not to discuss it. Would his male ego get over her winning? She wouldn't be sure until she signed the paperwork and it was hers. He said he hated to lose—did he like her enough to overcome that?

Tonight wasn't the night to think about that. One day at a time, she told herself as she reached the first floor.

"Hello, Daniela."

She shrieked, whirling to find her brother sitting in the front room. His tie was loosened and the first couple buttons of his shirt were undone. His feet rested on a table in front of him, and he held a tumbler with whiskey in his hand. He'd turned on the fireplace next to him.

"Tony?" She walked slowly into the room, not believing her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled but it held no amusement. "Not happy to see me?"

"Actually, no, I'm not." She put her hands on her hips. "Did Marley know you were coming out?"

"No."

"So..." She shook her head. "Why are you here?"

"Someone has to stop this spring break episode you and Marley have going."

She glanced at the glass in his hand. "How much have you been drinking?"

"I've been wondering the same about you."

"Oh, no, you don't." Pointing a finger at him, she shook her head. "You aren't allowed to come into my house and talk to me like I'm a five year old who can't take care of herself."

"I can when you've been acting like a child." He swirled the ice in the glass. "And this is my house, actually. I'm renting it for you."

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she glared at him. "Next you'll tell me you're cutting me off from my own money."

"If that's what it takes to get you back on track."

She gasped. "You bastard."

Exhaling, he rubbed his eyes, as though he were exhausted. "Daniela, don't act like I'm the bad guy here. I just want what's best for you."

"You have no idea what's best for me."

"I know that a soup kitchen isn't it." He crossed his arms. "Ever since you moved to San Francisco, you've run unchecked. I've come here to get you back on path."

"I think I can manage my life without your help."

"That's not the impression I get. As far as I can tell, you're determined to destroy everything we've worked so hard to build."

"I didn't realize you were in the kitchen, slaving over the hot oven with me."

"That's not the point, Daniela, and you know it."

His tone was harsh and hurt. She blinked back sudden tears, trying not to remember how he used to call her Dani. She cleared the nostalgia from her throat. "What
is
the point?"

"You have to accept the Food Network deal." He leaned forward, every bit the aggressive businessman his clients paid a fortune for. "It's unprecedented. It'll make you set for life. Then if you want to fritter your life away—"

"I'm frittering my life away
now
," she cried.

"Stop being so melodramatic." He set the glass down and reached for the briefcase next to him. "I brought the paperwork for the network—"

She crossed her arms. "I'm not signing anything."

"As your representative—"

"You're fired."

That stopped him cold. Then he shook his head and spoke to her in that paternal tone that made her want to throw something at his head. "Stop acting like a child, Daniela."

"I'm not acting like anything. I'm dead serious. I don't want you to represent me anymore."

"Who are you going to get then?" he asked, his voice rising.

"No one. I don't want to be a TV star. I just love to bake."

"Are you going through an early midlife crisis?"

She narrowed her eyes. "If you ask me if I'm PMS'ing, I'll throw something at you. Something heavy. Like the bookend you got me for Christmas last year. Or maybe the ugly vase my birthday flowers came in. Remember that one?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"No kidding, because you didn't even order the flowers yourself," she yelled. "Somewhere along the way you stopped being my brother and just became management. Well, I'm done with management. I'd like my brother back."

"Daniela, you're being nonsensical."

"Antonio, you're being an idiot." With one last glare at him, she stormed out.

She heard his heavy footsteps come after her. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"Out."

"Are you going through some sort of belated rebellious period? Because you hiding things is growing old."

"I'm not hiding anything," she lied, thinking of Nico.

"What about the man you're seeing? Assuming that's why you're going out dressed like that."

Whirling around, she glared at him with her hands on her hips. How had he known? Was Marley spying on her? "Be careful."

He glared right back. "You're the one who needs to be careful. You look like—"

"Like what?"

"Like a harlot."