Sweet on You (The Wilde Sisters #1) (7 page)

And Trent had one hell of a sweet tooth. Staring at her glistening pink lips, he thought of a very suitable replacement for dessert. They sat on a blanket under a tree, ate, and talked about other items on their bucket list. For him, skydiving, parasailing, bungee jumping. She had more tame events: climbing the Eiffel Tower, walking through the Aztec ruins, hiking the Appalachian Trail. And of course, starting a family.

Yeah, he could totally see himself doing those things with her. Except the family part. They argued over their lists and laughed at each other’s jokes. It was too damn bad he couldn’t give Rayne what she desired.

“No cookies?”

“I didn’t think you’d have room after all this.”

“Hell, I thought you knew me better than that. I always have room for dessert.”

“You just wait. One of these days all those snacks are going to catch up to you and you’re going to be mistaken for Santa Claus,” she teased.

“And to think I shaved this morning for you,” he said as he rubbed his cheeks.

“I like the scruff.”

Trent raised an eyebrow and studied her. She had no idea how sexy she was. Or that everything she said and did turned him on. “Really? Why is that?” He leaned back on his elbows and looked up at her. Tanned skin, hair that was meant to be splayed across his pillow, nervous chocolate-syrupy eyes. He itched to reach out and tuck the stray curl behind her ear, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop there.

Rayne pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, and stared out over the river. “You’re a nice guy, Trent.”

“Uh, oh. I’ve heard that one before.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.

She turned to face him and gave him a sad smile. “I really like you and am glad we’re still friends after…after my um, misunderstanding.”

His heart softened. No, it turned into a melting puddle of ganache. If he was reading the signs right, she was interested. Very interested. That could either spell trouble or
hello sweet heaven
. But if he turned her down, that could ruin their friendship as well. Better to evade than to disappoint.

“Ten bucks says I’ll beat you in.”

Clearly confused, Rayne tilted her head.

“The water. I bet you’re a toe dipper. Gotta get used to the water slowly. I’m a head diver. No holds barred for me. Think you have it in you?”

“Seriously?”

“Hell yeah.”

Okay, maybe he read her wrong. He thought she was annoyed that he turned their conversation into something as ridiculous as a wager. While wondering if he should apologize for his insensitivity, she bolted up, stripped the black dress off, and ran into the river, diving under the water before he brought himself to his feet.

The devious brat.

The shallow water only reached her thighs—and oh, what a sight!—and dripped off her nearly naked body that glistened in the sun. She rested her hands on her hips and yelled, “You owe me ten bucks!”

He laughed and ran into the river, tackling her underwater with him.

“You cheat,” he said as they came up for air.

“How so?”

“I never said
go
.”

“Oh please.” She splashed him. “You’re such a sore loser.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Now let’s pack up. We still have another hour or so until we reach the landing.” Trent followed her, stopping to appreciate how her wet bathing suit molded to her butt, her long hair dripping water down her back into no-man’s land. His gaze followed the drops as they disappeared under her suit, fantasizing about following the same path with his tongue. “Unless you’d rather swim for a bit. The shuttles come every thirty minutes, so it doesn’t really matter what time we get there.”

They’d get picked up by a van and shuttled back to her car ten miles up the river. Some people made a weekend of it, tenting out alongside the river. Him, Rayne, sleeping bag, tent. No, not a good idea. She wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl and he didn’t do commitment. He didn’t do forever.

And Rayne Wilde was a forever kind of girl.

***

Rayne

“That was fun. You’re a good sport. Now hand over my money.” Rayne held out her palm to Trent as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

Picking up her hand, he turned it and brought her knuckles to his lips. “Will you take an IOU?”

Red alert! Red alert!
She could either cave in to his sweet caress, accidentally lean into him, and bump her lips against his, or she could pull away and act pissed that he would not make good on his bet.

The latter won out.

“You suffered through six Zumba classes but you can’t pay up ten dollars? Geesh. Never took you for a cheapskate. I’ll have to tell Brian about this one,” she teased.

“You are pure evil. I thought my good looks and charm would get me out of it.” Trent scooted up in his seat and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. As he rifled through, counting out his bills, she peered over his arm and saw the ominous ring of a condom.

Of course he carried protection with him. Trent had women falling at his feet wherever he went. He oozed testosterone and sex. But not with her. No, he made it blatantly obvious he liked her as a friend. Apparently he liked the model-thin trampy types like Katrina. Well, if that was his taste, pooh to him!

“All I have are twenties. Do you want to owe me or want me to owe you?”

“Here’s a deal. I need a cake for my parents’ anniversary next week. I was planning on picking one up at the grocery store—”

Trent’s dramatic gasp startled her. “I don’t
ever
want to hear you talk like that again.” He shook his head in disgust. “Do you know they order their frosting in bulk in cans? Who knows what chemicals they put into those things? Come to Sweet Spot. I’ll hook you up with a cake. How big? What flavors? We can do a decadent chocolate ganache or a lighter lemon curd or—”

“Whoa. Down boy. We’re talking about my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granola. They’d be fine with goat’s milk on a bed of lettuce, but it’s their fortieth. I thought a cake would be nice. Nothing big and fancy. It’ll just be my sisters and Suzie and Neil. Nothing spectacular. They’d rather spend it without anyone around anyway, so it’s going to be a short and sweet dinner. Well, maybe not so sweet. Sage will have a temper tantrum and be grumbling about something and Thyme will be late, if she remembers at all.”

“And to think I felt left out not being invited.”

Well that was an idea. Rayne had been known to bring men to their sporadic family dinners. She’d always wanted a big table full of friends and family to talk and laugh with over a meal. Make memories. Start traditions. If Neil, Suzie, Sage, and Thyme had their way, the Wildes would never see each other, so Rayne made it her mission to bring the family together when her parents were actually around. This year it coincided with her parents’ anniversary.

Having a man with her distracted the family, gave them something to talk about, and took the pressure off Sage’s stress and anxiety and Thyme’s unwillingness to commit to…anything. Neil had a man to talk to and Rayne would talk to Suzie about herbs and new garden trends.

Maybe Trent would fit right in. He could talk recipes with her parents. They weren’t big on sweets either—only organically fresh food for them—but she bet they could swap a few recipes.

“Actually, if you’re not doing anything next Saturday night, you’re more than welcome to come. Sage and Thyme will do most of the cooking at my folks’ place in Parish Hill. Feel like an adventure? You can scratch it off your bucket list.”

“It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Oh, just you wait and see.”

Chapter Five

Rayne

The cake wasn’t ready when she stopped by Sweet Spot to pick it up. Instead, the nice woman behind the counter introduced herself as Marie, Brian’s mother, and told her to go on back. Reluctantly Rayne pushed through the swinging doors and called out to Trent.

“Just in time.” He wiped his hands on a towel and handed her a white apron. “Tie this on. You don’t want to get your clothes messy.”

Rayne looked down at her denim shorts and squinted. “Not really concerned about the wardrobe, Trent. I’m just picking up the cake. What did you come up with?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Well, okay. I don’t really need it today. As long as it’s ready when I leave tomorrow—”

“I’m not coming up with anything. You are. It’s your parents. I’ll help you with some ideas but I thought it would be pretty cool if you made the cake.”

She snorted. “Me? I can’t bake. Stir fry, grill, sure, but I don’t do sweets. I’ve never even made cookies. Not even the kind you buy at the store with the dough in those tube things—”

Trent covered her mouth with his finger. “Shh, we don’t talk about such things in the house of confections. That’s blasphemy.” He pulled his hand away and turned her so he could tie her apron. “I’ll guide you. All you have to do is follow orders. You can do that, right?” He spun her around and yanked on her ponytail. Such a brotherly, friendly gesture.

She hated it.

“Sure. Whatever. Tell me what to do,” she snarled.

“That’s the spirit!” He gently chucked her chin with his knuckles and pushed her toward the sink. “First, wash up.”

After listening to about fourteen thousand sugary combinations, she opted for a coconut cream cake with raspberry filling. Ever the model student, Rayne followed Trent’s directions and measured, poured, stirred, sifted, whipped, and creamed. Her arms ached after an hour of baking.

“Why couldn’t we use one of those big mixer things?” she asked after they put the cake in the oven and the filling in the fridge. “My arms are killing me from all that beating.”

“Sounds to me like you need a new personal trainer,” he teased.

“Bite me,” she growled and watched his eyes darken. “You did this on purpose to torture me.”

“Oh, stop being a baby and go wash the dishes.”

“I don’t know why I couldn’t have given them one of the lovely cakes you have in the display case up front,” she grumbled on her way to the sink. “I’ll wash but you dry.”

They worked together, her banging dishes around while he whistled and laughed at her grumpy mood. Only she wasn’t grumpy about the upper body workout or dish duty. She wore her favorite red halter-top. The one that made her look like she had a C cup. It showed off her shoulders and dipped a bit in the back to reveal her shoulder blades. The daisy dukes weren’t super short but she knew they did tremendous things to her booty. And Trent never let his eyes stray from her face. Maybe the man was gay and didn’t know it yet.

She held back a snort. As if.

Rayne didn’t always get hit on, not in regular clothes and with a naked face, but when she put a little makeup on—just a touch of mascara and some shiny lip gloss—like she did today, and spent a few extra minutes on her hair and wardrobe, she could turn a few heads.

And the only head she hoped to turn had no intention of looking her way. She’d give him until tomorrow, and if he didn’t put the moves on her by the end of the night, she’d body tackle him to the floor.

***

Trent

“I deserve a freakin’ award,” Trent grumbled before he took a swig from his bottle of beer.

“No, you deserve a kick in the ass. I don’t get why you don’t throw on the infamous Kipson magic and charm her pants off.” Brian laughed.

“I can’t.”

“Why the hell not? You like her, right? She’s hot. She’s funny. You two seem to have a lot in common. Are you afraid you’ll fall in love or something?” Brian flipped the burgers on the grill and popped open another beer.

Trent grabbed a handful of chips, chewed, and contemplated how much he should tell his friend. “She’s different than the women I date.”

“No kidding,” Brian laughed. “She has a brain and a personality.”

Rolling his eyes, he bent to scoop up Faith, using her as a shield, and patted her back. “We’re friends—”

“Friends that—”

“Don’t you dare say it, man. Yeah, I like her. I respect her a hell of a lot too. She’s had…relationship issues in the past.”

“And you haven’t?”

Trent sighed. “She tends to get emotionally attached pretty fast. Falls hard before the second date.”

“And you’re worried she’ll fall in love with you?”

It did sound pretty arrogant when put that way, but she was the one who admitted to doing so. “Yeah, something like that.”

“And that would be a bad thing…why?”

Trent scowled. “I don’t
do
love. I’d break her heart before the end of dinner.”

“It seems to me,” Brian said, taking Faith in his arms, “that you two have had dinner before. She in love with you already?”

That stopped him in his tracks. Damn. What if she was? He couldn’t lead her on anymore. That wouldn’t be fair. He’d use his upcoming trip to LA to put some distance between them and hopefully diffuse any romantic ideas she had in her head.

“Dude, stop the train. I can see the fear bubbling up inside you. Don’t dump her now because you’re afraid she may have feelings for you. Why don’t you hop on board and go for a ride? See how she feels.” Brian smirked.

Trent snatched the spatula and took the burgers off the grill. “Food’s ready.” He needed time to figure out what to do. One part of him—his lower half—definitely wanted to take Rayne for a test drive. But his head said other things. And his heart—damn, his heart never got involved—seemed to have a mind of its own. He needed some time to himself to figure out exactly what that organ was trying to tell him. Damn if it ever talked to him before.

***

Rayne

It wasn’t like Trent was the first guy she ever introduced to her family, but the other two men had been fiancés at the time. After a dinner with surly Sage and her parents’ sickening lovey-dovey behavior, both fiancés had gone off running. Or maybe it was Rayne they ran from. If Kevin or Roger truly loved her, they would have gotten past her family’s idiosyncrasies.

Granted, this time she wasn’t introducing a fiancé, just a friend.

Unfortunately.

Rayne sighed and took one final peek in the mirror. Her lavender sundress showed off her sun-kissed skin, accentuating her curves in a flirty, not sexy manner. Sage would pick up on any sudden wardrobe changes. Rayne wasn’t one for sexy dresses like Thyme.

Normally she kept her hair pulled back in a ponytail; she figured her hair needed a day off, so she wore it down. She may have had two fiancés in her wake but she’d never spent so much time prepping or caring how she looked. Trent seemed more interested in his stupid frosting and filling than he was in her. She lathered on her new coconut raspberry lotion that she picked up this morning in hopes of luring Trent to her sweet spot.

Tonight she’d wow him.

Hopefully.

***

Trent

It was damn near impossible to keep his hands on the wheel and his tongue in his mouth. The woman smelled like she should be licked from head to toe. She was mouthwatering in her little, airy dress and tanned legs that stretched for miles. Thank God he was driving or he would have dived over the center console and taken her in the front seat.

Rayne seemed oblivious to her sex appeal. Which made her even more alluring. Trent reached over and cranked the air conditioner.

“Hot?”

He gulped and nodded. “Too cold?” His gaze skimmed her arms, searching for goosebumps.

“No. It feels good. The humidity is pretty gross today. I’m hoping I’ll stay somewhat cool in this dress. I should have warned you my parents don’t believe in air conditioning. The hotter the better, is their motto.” She blushed and chewed on her lips.

Was she purposely trying to torture him? “Good to know.” Yeah, he sounded stupid. She did this to him all the time, got him tongue-tied and sounding like a fifteen-year-old on his first date. He tried to block out her scent, her presence, and tuned in to the country music filling the car. Trent didn’t want to think of running his hands through Rayne’s hair and getting a rockin’, so he pushed a button and changed to classic rock.

Nothing like a little AC/DC to kill the mood. If she noticed the tension in his body she didn’t say anything. In fact, Rayne was unusually quiet. Nervous maybe? Had she brought any other men to meet her parents? Probably, considering she’d been engaged. Twice.

“So your parents…they know you’re bringing…me?”

Rayne nodded. “I told my sisters I baked the cake and they threatened not to come. So I told them you helped. Which you did. A lot.”

Interesting. So did they know who he was already? How exactly did she describe their friendship? If Sage was as direct and surly as Rayne had described her, he figured she’d tell him exactly what Rayne thought of him.

“And your parents?”

Rayne snorted. “I could have told them I was bringing the Portland Symphony Orchestra and they would have said, ‘Great, honey.’ They’re so wrapped up in each other it doesn’t really matter what my sisters and I do.”

Instead of sounding angry like most daughters would, she sounded distant, sad. He reached out and patted her hand that rested on her thigh. She wrapped her fingers around his hand and squeezed.

They kept their fingers interlocked for the rest of the ride, neither saying a word. Other than his sister and Brian, Trent had never met a couple completely devoted to each other. Rayne had a warped version of love thrown in her face from birth, but the Wilde version was just as unhealthy as the Kipson one. Somewhere there had to be a happy medium. Brian and Claire had it, but they were lucky, a rare breed.

Trent had been able to shield Claire from most of the harsh realities of love, which was why she was a true believer now.

And poor Rayne. Even though she faced rejection every day of her life from her parents and crappy boyfriends, she still believed in happily ever after. The compassionate woman was a glutton for punishment.

“Their driveway is after the big maple tree.” She pointed to the left. “Ready or not, welcome to the crazy Wilde house.”

Trent laughed and squeezed her hand before letting go to grip the steering wheel. “I’ll survive.” He seriously doubted it.