Sweet as Pie (Spring Hills Book 1)

by Brisa Starr

  “So what are you gonna do?” she says. “You know, with your dad and his firm and, well, the direction in your life.” She looks at me, and then she hands me more dishes to take to the sink, making me leave her side.

  I do as she bids and head to the sink. I turn on the water to wash the dishes and say, over my shoulder, “You know, my dad was correct there, too. He has some interesting cases, although they’re not using my winning debate skills.” I pause and then add, “Though I have to wonder if I’m actually any good. I can usually win people over… everyone except you.”

  And she laughs.

  God, I love her laugh.

  I finish the dishes and we keep talking. I enjoy sharing this stuff with her, not just to get to know each other better, but also because it’s helping me clarify my own thoughts. “Long-term, maybe I’ll do something part-time with law. I enjoy it, but the money has given me options, so I want to be smart about it. Find something I’m really passionate about. I don’t know yet.”

  She nods and walks over to the double-stack, commercial ovens and turns them on. She opens the refrigerator and gets out the dough. I’m amazed at how fast the time is flying. I enjoy her company so much. She sets the dough on the counter and asks, “Can you please turn the air conditioning a few degrees cooler? The thermostat is in the dining room, by the grandfather clock.”

  I do as she asks, and as I walk back into the kitchen, I say, “So tell me more about the hotel.”

  Her gorgeous face lights up like the sun rising, and a warm feeling spreads through my chest. Her eyes fill with joy and determination as she says, “It’s my dream come true. I love the idea of meeting travelers and having a place for them to stay that’s warm and cozy. And since we have the bistro already, the ‘breakfast’ part will be easy. And! It’s a way to become financially independent!”

  Her smile is so big, and she gestures her hands around the kitchen, “I love baking! And I love running the restaurant with my mom. But we wanted to expand, and do something more than just open another restaurant. We wanted to try something different.”

  “I’m glad to hear everything is working out for you, but if it’s so important, why didn’t you let me invest?”

  She looks at me, and the friendly face from a moment ago fades. “I already told you. I don’t want to be beholden to a man for my dream. I didn’t need your help.” She turns her back to me and unwraps the dough. She sprinkles flour onto the stainless steel table and starts rolling it out.

  “Aspen, that doesn’t make any sense.” I counter smoothly, but my irritation is growing. “You were going to have a male investor, anyway.”

  “Yeah, and he’s like 70 years old.”

  Ahh. I smile inwardly, and my irritation quickly evaporates. “So, you didn’t take my investment… because you’re attracted to me, and I’m in my 20s.”

  “Fine, whatever,” she says, matter-of-factly. “But also, your rude behavior. The way you treated me when you first came into the diner. We have a no-assholes rule. If you’d done it again, you would’ve been banned permanently. Going into business with you was never an option. I’m smart enough not to take an investment from a jerk. It’s guaranteed to end badly, and I wasn’t that desperate.”

  I sidle next to her again. “Well, now that you know me better—now that you know I’m not actually a jerk—would you have taken it? Had I offered it today… less risky? Hm?”

  “Nope.”

  I huff. “What? Why the hell not?”

  “Because!” She huffs back, and her spine straightens like it’s been replaced by the shaft of a golf club. I can see she’s getting prickly.

  “That’s it? ‘Because?’” I ask, exasperated. “You know, Aspen, life isn’t about doing everything by yourself. Don’t you want someone to share things with? Bounce ideas off of? Do things together?” I say and bump her hip again, hoping to make her smile. “Like this!” I say and gesture to the counter full of unfinished pies. “This is fun!”

  Ignoring me, she walks over to the stove where her cherry filling is cooling, and she stirs it. She grabs a tasting spoon, dips it into the sauce, and brings it up to her mouth to taste. My blood simmers as I watch her put the spoon between her delicious, full lips. She closes her eyes like she’s tasting something wonderful, and I fantasize that she’s licking my semen off that spoon. Damn. I should’ve turned the air conditioning even cooler.

  She comes back over to me, and I shake my head to clear the mental image.

  “Apart from turning down your investment,” she continues, “your flirting is over the top. And so, there’s already a conflict. And it’s distracting.”

  I smile. I like where this might be going. She might see the distraction as a bad thing, but that just means she likes me. “But I’m going to marry you someday, so there’s that,” I slip into the conversation, in case she had forgotten.

  “Ha! I have zero time for any man, let alone a husband,” she says, not giving it a second thought. No matter. I’ll keep watering the seed I’ve planted.

  She continues, “This restaurant with my mom, and now the bed-and-breakfast… getting it set up, I’ll be busier than ever.”

  “What about your longer-term plan, Aspen? Where do you see yourself in a few years? This isn’t living… what you’re doing, always running so ragged… it’s not sustainable. It’s not good business. It’s not even healthy.”

  She whips her head in my direction, “First, you’re in no position to talk, Mr. I Do Nothing. You know nothing about me or my life. And not that it’s any of your business,” she spits, gaining speed, “but, in a couple years, when everything’s up and running, and successful, I’ll still be too busy. I don’t need a man to be happy!”

  She returns to working on her pies, her movements rushed and fiery from the momentum of our conversation, but still controlled, like the expert she is. She drapes the crusts over the pie plates, and then growls and huffs, “Ryker, I don’t plan on being alone forever. Once I’m financially independent, I’ll consider letting a man into my life. Maybe. The point is that, if he and I ever end up divorced, I’ll be secure.”

  “That’s not the right attitude going into a marriage, Aspen,” I say, disappointed.

  “Oh, and you’re an expert? As though you wouldn’t protect your billions, with a prenup.”

  “No way. If I need a prenup, it’s not true love. I’m marrying for life. Marrying you, remember?”

  She ignores me, like totally, and I don’t even know if she heard me.

  “Anyway, Aspen,” I say, getting her attention again. “That’s a long time to go without enjoying a companion of the opposite sex.” This makes her look up at me.

  She barks a laugh, and then sighs. “What’s another couple of years added to the last two?”

  Well, that answers that question. I’d been wondering, and I’m pleased, knowing she hasn’t been with anyone in a long time. I have no right to care… she’s not even mine—yet—but the thought of her with another man makes me sick. Though, I also have to wonder about her years-long abstinence. Women have needs. Does she not get horny? I begin to wonder when the last time was she had an orgasm, and I involuntarily visualize her masturbating. Quit it, dude, this isn’t helping. I snap out of it and refocus my attention on what she’s saying.

  “I just don’t have time, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I have so many things to do,” she says.

  It’s time to lighten things up. “Will you add me to that list of things to do?” I say and turn to face her, smiling, but she keeps her face forward. I expect her to laugh or shove me away, but she swallows hard, instead. Then she turns to face me, determination in her eyes, but I also see fire behind them. And then… a flirtatious twinkle lights them up…

  She reaches over and grabs the commercial-size box of cherries. She tilts it to the side and a few straggler cherries roll to the middle. She grabs two of them, their stems still intact. She holds one up in front of me and says, “OK, Ryker. Here’s the deal.” She p
lucks the stems out of each of them and hands one stem to me, keeping one for herself.

  “If you can tie this cherry stem into a knot, using only your mouth, before I do, you can kiss me.”

  Whaaaat?

  My cock jumps to life. I have no idea what she’s up to.

  “Seriously? All I have to do is tie this cherry stem into a knot with my tongue before you do?” I narrow my eyes at her. “Wait, I have a feeling you’re good at this.” And that makes me think about her tongue working a stem into a knot. Fuck me.

  15

  Ryker

  “Go!” I say to her, not giving it a second thought, and I throw the cherry stem into my mouth. Aspen does the same, and I work at my stem, not taking my eyes off her. But she meets my eyes, hers filled with determination, and I’m trying not to smile because it makes it harder to use my mouth. I want to laugh, but I need to win! I try to distract myself by looking around the bistro’s kitchen instead of her sensuous mouth working its magic, but I can’t help it. My eyes dig back into hers.

  Fuck, this is hard! I think I tried it in a bar once, in college, but can’t remember how it ended. I can’t seem to get the stem to cooperate, and just when I think it will, and I bend it with my tongue and teeth, it slips back into its original position. Shit!

  I’m watching her closed mouth move, and I grin. Concentrate, Ryker! Her juicy, red lips are on the line! I can almost taste them!

  But watching her move her mouth is driving me crazy. All I can think about is my cock in her mouth, with her tongue whipping around it, flicking the head. My brain cheers me on—Focus, Ryker! You can do it!—but my blood is too hot! I can’t concentrate!

  As my mouth contorts into all kinds of shapes trying to tame this goddamn cherry stem, she reaches into her mouth, with her two dainty fingers, and pulls out a cherry stem. Tied into a knot. Victory shining on her face.

  But the victory will be mine. I pull mine out. It’s sorry-looking and bent in half, and I step forward and grab her face between my two hands and my lips crash down onto hers. I can’t help myself. I have to taste her. I have to kiss her. I have to connect with her raw beauty.

  It takes her a moment of my tongue coaxing its way between her lips, but… she lets me in. I gain entrance to her mouth. My tongue probes deeply into the depths of her sweet wetness. Her soft, slippery tongue slides alongside mine as she kisses me back. I steal a moan off her breath, and her arms wrap around my neck.

  My searing blood jets through my body, filling me with hot, electric heat. Her full breasts are pressed up against my chest, and her hips grind into mine. Holy hell, she feels so good.

  She moans again when she feels my cock, full and ready now, pressed up against her womanly-soft, goddess belly. God damn, she feels so perfect. Fireworks explode in my heart as I kiss her. I pull her in closer, crushing her more, and I grab her sexy, blond ponytail and pull her head back. My mouth jumps to her neck, and I bite, sucking hard, craving any taste I can get of her. I need her.

  I’ve never wanted a woman so badly.

  “Ahhh,” she exhales, and I release her hair and my mouth lands on hers again. She runs her hands through my hair, and she pushes our bodies against the counter. It digs into my backside. I knew she wanted this as much as I do. Confidence floods my veins.

  I need more of her. I want to suck on her breasts. I reach around her and pull the string, untying her apron. I pull it aside as I move my hands to her chef coat buttons and start with the top button, and her hands frantically try to assist. I get the coat open and push it half-way down her arms, leaving it on part way, binding her arms slightly behind her, and as she shimmies out of it, I grab her breasts, still under a t-shirt, but fuuuuck she’s not wearing a bra. Oh my god, this woman was made for me.

  I groan as I kiss her harder and pinch her peaked nipples through the fabric. She gasps and then gets her jacket off. It falls to the floor, and she reaches up to pull my head closer to her, to kiss her even harder. She rakes her hands through my hair, yanking it and tugging. This woman needs a release, and I plan to set her free.

  I move my hands down her waist and start to pull her shirt up over her tummy, and her phone rings. Fuuuck!

  She jumps back, panting, her breath ragged and her chest heaving. Her brown eyes widen as she regards me with shock and bewilderment. I wish I knew what she was thinking, and I think I know, as it dawns on her what we were doing, and her eyes darken.

  Her phone rings again. She shakes her head vigorously, like she’s straightening her thoughts, lining them up. She backs away from me, slowly, like I’m a predator, and she plans to run the first chance she gets. She reaches into her back pocket and holds her phone up to her ear. “Hello?” And after a second, she says, “Yes, Jack. Hi.”

  Oh, good. Jack is coming through for me.

  I lean back against the counter, and I cross my arms over my chest, watching her.

  She says into her phone, “Really? That’s fantastic. I can’t believe that hap…” she stops herself, and her eyes flick to mine, and she narrows them before she continues speaking to Jack. “Well, that was fast… Oh, things just line up that way sometimes? I see. Uh-huh.”

  She suspects something.

  Shit. Think fast, Ryker.

  She continues talking to Jack, “It’s good news, yes. I’ll have my Popster meet you. His name is Emerson Kingsley. OK. Thank you. Bye.” She looks at her phone and ends the call, and without looking at me, she swipes her finger across the screen, and I think she’s sending a text message to someone. She closes the app and slips her phone back into her pocket, glaring at me with her eyes narrowed into slits of brown.

  She purses her lips into a pout. “Did you have something to do with that?”

  Shit. What do I say? I don’t want to lie… I’ll already be in deep shit when she finds out how her Popster got the money for the hotel. But that’s certainly not something I’m going to deal with right now. I’ll figure that out with her Popster.

  Maybe having kissed me, and seeing how we’re meant to be together, she won’t be as mad.

  I step closer to her.

  She steps back.

  Crap.

  OK. Here we go. I shrug, nonchalantly, playing it cool. “Oh. That? Jack? I may have helped a little.”

  She’s throws her hands up. “Jeezus, Ryker?! Do you not listen ever? How dare you involve yourself in something that’s none of your business!” She’s flushed, and her eyes are as angry as a tornado tearing through a trailer park.

  Think! Think! Think!

  Time to diffuse. With more casual confidence, I say, “Aspen, I meant it when I said we’re going to be married someday, and after that kiss, you know it’s true.”

  “Ahhhh! Ryker! You are un-fucking-believable,” she spits and charges out to the dining room. I peek my head around the corner and see her put a dollar into the swear jar. God, she’s cute. But her back is rigid and there’s a slight tremble in her shoulders. I have to fix this. Fast!

  “What’s the big deal? I helped. I don’t expect anything from you. Consider it my apology for being mean to you in high school. I feel bad about that. Like, terrible, Aspen. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Oh, OK. You’re right,” she says, strangely soft. “Thank you for your apology gift.”

  “OK?” I ask. “You’re OK with it? Really?”

  “NOOOOOOOO!” She roars and throws her hands up. “Of course not!”

  “Can’t you just say ‘thank you’ for once when someone does something for you? You were upset about it taking four weeks. Now it won’t. It’s good news! So just accept it,” I say, my anger rising at how ridiculous she’s behaving.

  “I said I don’t need your help!” she yells, and she turns back to working on her pies. “I don’t need your help tonight, either!”

  “You want me to go?” I yell back.

  “YES! Finally! You comprehend! Now let’s see if you can actually fucking do it!”

  “Fine! I’m out of here!” I untie my apron
and take it off, tossing it into the corner on the counter. My nostrils flare. I tried to do something nice for her, something that she dearly wanted, and she just can’t accept the help because it’s from me.

  I turn as I’m leaving, a question in my mind. “So, Aspen, if I were a woman… like, a girlfriend or a female customer… someone who could’ve helped you speed up the inspection process. Would you treat her the same way?”

  She stops and turns to face me, and I can see her process my question. I’ve hit a nerve.

  “No. I would accept the help. I just don’t like your help!” she snaps.

  “You’re the one who’s unbelievable, Aspen. You know there’s something between us. You’re just being fucking stubborn. Use all the excuses you want.”

  I walk out to the dining area and grab my jacket. “Well, I’m not sorry I helped you, Aspen. You’ll come to your senses one of these days.” I unlock the door and storm out of there, slamming it behind me, rattling those damn bells so hard it rattles my brain.

  I stomp out to my car, clenching my fists. My heart is pounding like it’s trying to bust out of my chest. I get into the car and grab the steering wheel. I want to punch it. She is unbelievable!

  But that kiss.

  I exhale long and loud.

  There’s no way it was just me. She felt it, too. And now, I want to taste every part of her. I smell my hand, and it still smells like her, sweet and sexy. And her lips… they were as succulent, soft, and delicious as I knew they’d be.

  Fuck!

  I hit the steering wheel.

  I start the car and head to the gym.

  16

  Aspen

  I jump at the loud clanging of the bells over the door as Ryker storms out of the bistro.

  Who the hell does he think he is, kissing me like that?