Sweet on You (The Wilde Sisters #1) (4 page)

“Hey, you’re that hot baker guy, aren’t you?”

“Um, I…uh…” He glanced at Rayne, who raised her eyebrow in question. Trent couldn’t tell if she was miffed or amused.

“You are,” the tall redhead fawned. “Can I have your autograph?” She sized him up with predatory eyes. “I guess you can’t do that now. If I swing by the bakery later, will you make me something special?”

The woman had no shame. “Stop by anytime. We always have specials.” He turned to recheck Rayne and the redhead didn’t stop talking. And flirting. He didn’t know if he was more embarrassed for himself or her. She finally got the hint and left after he let out a few grunts and one-word responses.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled while pulling on Rayne’s rope.

“I didn’t realize bakers were famous. Is there something I don’t know about you? Are you a rock star on the side? Retired child actor?”

Trent laughed. “No, nothing that exciting. Sweet Spot made it into a few magazines and news spots. It sort of put us on the map. I mean, we were doing well before all this hoopla, but I can’t complain about the business the media has raked in for me.”

And the possible job of a lifetime. Felicia Cortez called him last night and emailed him his itinerary. By the end of July, he’d be flying into LAX and touring the Cooking Network’s studio in Burbank. If things went well, he’d be the new host of
So You Think You Can Bake,
a spin-off of
Cupcake Wars
. If he got the job, Trent would travel across the country sampling and judging different bakers’ concoctions and might even get an opportunity to film a few episodes of his own. Trent hadn’t told his sister or Brian about the offer yet; he’d wait until he had the contract in hand.

“Very cool. That’s every business owner’s dream, yet you don’t seem too thrilled about it.”

“It’s good. Most of it. That part,” he shrugged toward the redhead, “is the annoying bit.”

***

Rayne

Handsome and modest. Yeah. Rayne was totally over-the-top, head-over-heels crushing over Trent Kipson. It wasn’t love. It could be, if only…She watched his strong, yet somehow delicate hands make fast work of the contraption around his waist. It looked like a glorified diaper and she felt ridiculous in it, but it did amazing things for her new crush.

The harness cupped his butt and enhanced his front side, revealing a very nice package. One she’d never get to open, but a girl could dream. In elementary school, she dreamt about Harry Potter turning her into a princess. Then it was Channing Tatum doing a magical dance just for her. Her most recent infatuation—as Sage called them—was Chris Pratt. He and Trent shared the same boyish smile.

Oh yeah, she was totally doomed. And smitten. And he was totally off limits. Which was probably a good thing.

“You all right?” The movie star lookalike asked, slowly standing from his crouch. If Trent wasn’t…Trent, and they weren’t in a public place, the seductive stance and alluring eyes would have her stripping off her shirt and jumping into his arms.

She had to remind herself that he liked men—who could blame him—and they were in a very public place.
Damn.
He caught her staring and that was mortifying.

“No, I’m good. I’m getting my game face on before I take a nose-dive off this cliff.”

Trent chuckled. “No nose-diving on my watch. And it’s just a wall. No cliffs in sight.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, maybe to you, but you probably do 100 pull-ups a day.”

Without confirming or denying his workout ritual, which sadly no longer involved Zumba, he smirked and put his strong hands on her shoulders. “I got your back sweetheart. Nothing to fear.”

Sighing, she reached out for her safety rope and walked toward the looming wall. Without turning around she called, “Just so you know, payback’s a bitch.”

The deep laugh from below made her heart quiver and nearly made her hands shake. No, he expected her to climb the wall, and if she had any hopes of
converting
him, she had to stay strong.

***

Trent

“Mmm, I haven’t had a lobster roll in months. This is the best surprise lunch ever.” Rayne closed her eyes and groaned, making an entirely too erotic scene at their picnic table by the ocean. The storm had passed through quickly as they typically did in the summer, leaving behind the smell of fresh rain and salty air.

Trent held himself back from plunging his tongue into her mouth. He’d never envied a piece of food before but damn, he wished he was on the roll and her mouth was…
wow, don’t go there.
Adjusting his crotch—which was thankfully hidden under the table—he finished off his beer and signaled the waitress.

“Done with lunch? Would you like dessert? We have amazing strawberry shortcake or maybe you’d like a scoop of ice cream with gooey…hot…chocolate sauce…” The young girl who worked at the Lobster Shack was ignoring Rayne and pouring out an obvious invitation to Trent. It made him sick. Couldn’t she see he was with a woman? Even though Rayne made it clear she wasn’t interested in anything romantic, she had to be offended by the sexual innuendos. Was it something in the water that had all the women pawing after him like mares in heat? Spending time with Rayne over the past few weeks had been somewhat refreshing. While he wanted to get in her pants, not having to worry about saying the right thing or sending the right or wrong messages of commitment felt pretty damn good too.

It was the first time in…ever that he could be himself around a woman. Brian would have his ass if he ever heard Trent admit to being anything but relaxed around sexy curves. He didn’t trust women. Not after the way his mother up and left him and Claire. And his history with women was only proof that all—well, most—were after one thing. Very few had a genuine soul. Very few were like his sister.

Or Rayne. Damn. He wouldn’t put her in the same category as Claire. His feelings toward her were so not sisterly, but he also didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he’d had since meeting Brian in Little League. And he sure as hell never had a
friendship
with a woman.

Without taking his eyes off of Rayne, he said, “Check, please.” The waitress stormed off in a huff.

Rayne had yet to stop by the bakery, claiming she didn’t eat sugar and that it went straight to her thighs.
Yeah, I’d like to go straight to your thighs.
Shaking his lusty thoughts out of his head, he smiled at her.

As if reading his thoughts about friendship, she said, “So tell me more about Brian. How long have you known him?”

“Since we were kids. We played ball together and I spent more time at his house growing up than in my own. I think of his mom, Marie, as my own. She even works at the bakery with me. Pretty much runs the place. I don’t know what I would do without her. Or Brian. But if you ever tell him I said that I’ll completely deny it.”

Rayne laughed and reached across the table, placing her hand on top of his. “Today was a great day. Thank you for bringing me rock climbing.”

He clasped her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’m really proud of you. You’d never know today was your first climb.” Trent pulled her gently to her feet and led her to his SUV. After unlocking the passenger side door, he opened it, but Rayne stood in between the door and the car as if waiting for…a kiss? No, he couldn’t go there.

Last week during a jog around the bay, she’d told him she was a hopeless romantic. That she always fell in love at first sight and how freeing it was to spend time with him knowing nothing would come of it. At first he didn’t think he’d heard her correctly, because she kept on jogging as if they were discussing the weather. Rayne didn’t elaborate as to why she felt so sure nothing sexual or romantic would come of their relationship, and he didn’t know whether to be offended or grateful.

Instead of correcting her, he had let her ramble about her past relationships. Two failed engagements, four cheaters, and one forty-year-old virgin. How any sane man could cheat on her was beyond him. Apparently she fell in love too fast. Rayne didn’t lay blame for the failed relationships in her life and took responsibility for her own actions.

“I fall hard and then I get clingy. I can’t help it. Being in love is such an amazing feeling and it makes me happy.” She had turned toward him and smiled as they jogged, her ponytail flailing back and forth, her legs never missing a stride. “It’s completely euphoric. Better than sex. Sex lasts…ten, fifteen minutes, but being in love lasts forever. Well, maybe not forever in my life. Yet. It will someday, though. I’m confident there’s the perfect guy out there waiting for me. Which is another reason I’m so grateful for our friendship.” She smiled at him again and for a brief second he thought he saw something more than platonic interest. And then it deflated as quickly as an undercooked soufflé. “It shows me that not all guys are asses.”

While his pace had slowed, hers had stayed constant. It was then he knew he couldn’t make a pass at her. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? Why wasn’t she attracted to him? Rayne wanted and deserved the happily ever after. The Cape Cod house with the white picket fence, two kids. A dog. Stability.

Trent was anything but stable. And he liked his life that way. He supposed that was why Rayne didn’t throw herself at him like all the others. Living in the Old Port meant he could stumble out of bed and into work at the crack of dawn or walk down the street at night to a pub for a nice cold one, play a game of darts or pool. Hang out with the guys or meet a woman.

And pretty soon he’d be working the dream job. Traveling, meeting new people, baking and meeting other bakers across the country.

Other than Sweet Spot, he had no commitments. The lease on his brownstone had to be renewed every six months, the lease on his SUV every two years. Just like Maine’s motto, it was
the way life should be.

Willing his libido to cool, he bent down and pecked her cheek. “Today was fun, but I’m wondering what you have up your sleeve for us for next week. Should I be worried about your
payback’s a bitch
statement, or did I do all right?”

“Oh, I owe you big for today. Next week’s adventure’s gonna knock your socks off.”

He’d prefer it if she knocked his shorts off, but he’d take what he could get. “Don’t forget about the Fourth of July at my place. We’ll grill around five but come whenever. The fireworks show from my deck is amazing. And you won’t have to worry about the gridlock of traffic when it’s all over.”

“I’m looking forward to it. What can I bring?”

“Nothing. Just yourself.”

“Can I…uh…bring a friend? I sort of forgot that I had already made tentative plans. I can—”

“Absolutely. Bring a friend. The more the merrier.”

She smiled shyly and slid into the front seat.

Trent couldn’t wait to meet Rayne’s friend. Hopefully she could fill him in on some unanswered questions.

Chapter Three

Rayne

“I’m going out of my mind, Sage.” Rayne hung her head upside down and wrapped her wet hair in her towel. Standing up, she put her hands on her hips and shook her heavy head. “I’m going freaking nuts. I can’t believe I let Kevin talk me into this again.”

“You said it. You are freaking nuts. The guy’s a loser. There’s a very good reason you broke up with him—”

“He dumped me.”

“Because you were about to bust his ass for cheating on you.” Sage stretched out her right foot on Rayne’s bed and admired her freshly painted toes.

“We never said we were exclusive.”

“Raynie, he told you he loved you. And you
said
you loved him…”

Sage didn’t need to state her opinion. Again. Rayne knew exactly how Sage felt about her love life. It didn’t help that her sister didn’t believe in love. The trail of men she left in her dust could spread from coast to coast. That they had completely differing views on relationships and matters of the heart and were still close was surely a testament to their sisterly bond. She only wished Sage would get along better with Thyme. Thyme had always been the flighty sister, and Sage’s OCD had no tolerance for it.

“You’re a fool but I love you. And you know I don’t throw that word around,” Sage grumbled. “If you feel obligated to keep this stupid date with Kevin, at least you’re bringing him to Trent’s. I haven’t met this guy yet but it sounds like he cares a lot about you. I’d like to get his take on the stupid oaf. I may stop by Sweet Spot after and—”

“Don’t you dare, Sage Lavender Wilde. You stay out of this!”

Sage brought her dainty foot closer and painted a second coat of fuchsia nail polish on her toenails. “I’m just saying…”

“No, you’re not. You love to meddle. It’s probably why you’re the best event planner in southern Maine.” Rayne loosened her towel, slipped on a pair of shorts and pulled a tank top over her head. “Plan, plan, plan. That’s what you do. But you can’t plan my life, Sage.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Sage snorted. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“And you can’t meddle.”

“Oh, that I can do. As your best friend and favorite sister, I’ve earned that privilege. I’m looking out for your best interests.”

“Whatever.” Rayne walked back into the bathroom and turned on her hair dryer. Going out with Kevin was definitely a mistake, even though she made it clear to him they were just friends now. As a professional bodybuilder, Kevin was more interested in the size of his muscles and his spray tan than he was Rayne. Kevin liked her profession and how she looked on his arm. His love for fitness was what got them together in the first place, but his obsession with it, and himself, and other women, is what drove her away. She knew she was using him as a distraction but he wouldn’t care. They’d go out on the Fourth, hang out with Trent and Brian, watch the fireworks, and she’d go home alone.

Pulling her hair up in a clip, Rayne stuck her head out the bathroom door and called to Sage. “If I somehow cave and let Kevin come home with me tomorrow night, you have my permission to smack me over the head, lock me in my apartment, and never let me date again. Promise.”

“Oh, you’re on, girlfriend. After tomorrow night, you’ll never see that bastard again. Why you are keeping this date is beyond me…No, it’s actually not. You’re good to a fault.” Sage got up and put the nail polish on Rayne’s dresser. “You’re too sweet, always trying to make everyone happy. But don’t even think about making Kevin happy, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After Sage left, Rayne made a quick grocery list and headed to the market to pick up the makings for a fruit salad to bring to Trent’s cookout. The last of her groceries loaded, she closed the trunk of her car and was startled to see Brian standing behind her cart.

“I thought that was you. I came over to offer a hand. It looks like you’re all set.”

“Thanks. Just picking up a few things for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Trent said you’re coming to the cookout. Faith will be happy to see you.” He laughed.

“Oh, where is the angel?”

“Claire’s with her while I help Trent set up for tomorrow. You know he can bake, but did you know he’s king of the grill as well? Men have tried to strip him of the title, but I don’t mind keeping the barbecue tongs in his hand. All I have to do is sit back and eat.”

Rayne chuckled. “I guess that’s why you two make the perfect couple.”

“What?”

Realizing Brian, too, may not like discussing his sexual status, Rayne backpedaled. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries. Trent doesn’t talk about his sexuality either. I should respect your privacy.”

“Okay…” Brian cocked his head and lowered his sunglasses. He was a handsome man as well. She could see why Trent would be attracted to him. “What exactly doesn’t he like to discuss?”

“Well…your relationship. I know you were childhood friends, but when did you both realize you were gay?”

Brian started coughing. Clearly he didn’t expect her to get so personal.

“Gay?”

“Forget I said anything. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I really admire him…and you. You’re both very nice men and such good fathers.” Seeing his embarrassment, Rayne pulled her keys from her purse and opened her door. “I’m sorry, Brian. Forget I ever asked. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She slid into her car and closed the door, hoping she didn’t ruin the best relationship she’d ever had.

***

Brian

“And you didn’t correct her?” Claire slapped Brian on the arm. “You idiot! The poor girl.”

Brian couldn’t stop laughing. The tears had finally stopped flowing out of his eyes, but his body still shook with amusement. So, the girl who had Trent all twisted up in knots thought he was gay. This couldn’t be any funnier. In truth, Brian had been surprised that Trent could keep his hands off such a hot woman and that she could actually be content with a friendship with Trent. The girls fell at his feet. Hell, he’d won that crazy-ass Zumba bet because Trent couldn’t go five minutes without getting hit on.

And the only reason Rayne didn’t hit on Trent was because she thought he was gay.

Too. Freakin’. Hilarious. Oh, he’d have fun with this one.

“Brian Smart. Don’t you dare. You call my brother right now and tell him about this. He deserves to know. And so does that poor girl. She’s going to feel like a fool when she finds out.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll tell him. Give me some time to enjoy this. She thinks he’s gay.” Another fit of laughter erupted from his lungs as he wrapped his wife in a bear hug.

“And she thinks you’re gay too, Mr. Funnypants.”

Shit.
That was not funny at all.

***

Trent

It must have been the cloudless, blue sky and flawless eighty-degree day. Or the ocean breeze. Maybe it was the busy morning at the bakery? No, Trent’s good mood had nothing to do with weather and finances. And he wouldn’t admit that it had anything to do with a gorgeous brunette who’d be entering his home in—he took out his cell phone and checked the time—four minutes.

Trent didn’t get nervous. Or excited. No, he was as cool as the frozen watermelon sorbet he made last night. Just chillin’. That was Trent. That was why he stayed in the backyard, pouring lighter fluid over the cold, black briquettes, waiting for the ebony cubes to turn ash gray, and not in the house, pacing and staring out the front window. Not a thing on his mind but grillin’ and swillin’ and chillin’.

The friend status with Rayne had been going surprisingly well despite the constant cold showers and lack of sex. Granted, he’d prefer friends with benefits, but he’d settle. Nope, no anxiety attack coming on at all.

The doorbell rang and his internal sorbet quickly melted. No longer chillin’, now he was sweatin’. Wiping the beads of perspiration off his forehead with his t-shirt—yeah, he was classy too—he quickly turned his back to the sliding door, pretending to be enthralled with his grill and not his newest guest.

And then he heard her voice. So happy. So sweet. She
ohh
ed. Claire must have given her the baby to hold. Trent couldn’t make out the words; all he could hear was her smooth-as-milk-chocolate voice cooing to the baby.

Damn. He should have been on baby patrol instead of manning the grill. But no. Nobody touched the meat in his house. Instantly his mind switched to pig status and thought of some meat that he’d let Rayne handle.

Gross. No. He wasn’t a pig, but she brought out the teenage boy in him. He’d be lucky if he didn’t drool on her over the chicken. Trent lit a match and dropped it in the barbeque pit, enjoying the sudden
whoosh
as the charcoal caught on fire.

The deep baritone of a male voice brought his thoughts back to PG land. Someone else had arrived as well. Figuring it was Cote and Thomas from the Rock Gym, he stayed outside and tended to his meat. Most likely they were ogling Rayne and her friend and had no desire to hang with Trent.

Couldn’t blame them, really.

The slider opened and Brian stepped out.

“Dude,” he said and slapped Trent on the back. “We gotta talk. Fast.”

Brian furrowed his brows and sucked in his teeth, glancing over his shoulder one more time before turning to face Trent again.

“Rayne? Is she all right?”

Brian blocked his view of the house. Something didn’t smell right and it wasn’t the charcoal.

***

Brian

Claire was right. Brian would make it up to her tonight after Faith was asleep.
Damn
. He should have told Trent yesterday. Or at least this morning. Brian never would have guessed that Rayne’s
friend
would be a
boy
friend. If one could call him a boy. He stood easily at six and half feet and probably weighed in at 250. All muscle. The guy was jacked, not the kind of guy Brian wanted Trent to mess around with.

The Hulk had his hand on Rayne’s butt the entire time she was holding Faith. Brian had tried with polite conversation but the dude completely ignored him, instead making his declaration of love to Rayne, going on about the babies they were going to make. She didn’t seem to be into the Hulk the way he was into her, but Brian still needed to warn Trent.

Judging by Trent’s over-the-top cheerful mood, he was most likely expecting to get lucky tonight. Fireworks could be romantic—Brian knew that first hand. Last Fourth of July was when Claire proclaimed she wanted a baby. And for the next few weeks he was the luckiest guy in the world, his wife wanting it morning, noon, and night. Of course, most of that sexual bliss ended once she got pregnant and threw up for twelve straight weeks.

“Yeah. She’s…uh. Fine. I need to tell you something—”

“There you are! Of course I’d find you out at the grill.”

Rayne came skipping out the door and into Trent’s arms, kissing him on the cheek. A completely platonic kiss for her gay friend.

There was no mistaking the mountain of lust and something a bit deeper in his friend’s eyes.

“Hey, there. I’m so glad you came. I can’t wait for you to see the fireworks tonight. The view from the yard is—”

“Hey, babe. Do you know where the beer is?”

Brian scrunched his face in concern and peeked at Trent out of one eye. Trent’s focused stare bounced from the Hulk to Rayne to Brian, the question in his mind evident.

“Um, I brought water and a bottle of wine—”

“Come on in with me. I’ll grab you one,” Brian interjected and jogged inside, but not before missing Trent’s beady stare. Once in the kitchen, he placated the Hulk with a beer and offered to show him Trent’s weight system in the basement. Leaving him down there, he ran upstairs and sought out his wife.

“Help. Distract Rayne while I go talk to Trent.” He kissed his wife on the lips, fast and hard. “Don’t say it. I know. You were right.”

Dashing outside, he plastered on a fake smile and called to Rayne, “Mind helping Claire with a few things in the kitchen? I know it’s totally sexist, but she said she didn’t want my help.” He laughed, trying to mask his nervousness.

“Absolutely! I’d love to help,” the adorable woman said as she went into the house.

***

Trent

As soon as Rayne closed the screen door behind her, Trent grabbed Brian’s shirt, pulled him close, and growled, “What the hell is going on?”

“Well, uh…” Brian’s gaze was everywhere but at Trent. Guilt flooded his face, and his shoulders sagged.

Trent let him go, keeping a stern watch on him.

“Okay, well, this is actually kind of funny.” Brian laughed, not the funny-ha-ha laugh, but a nervous one.