Sweet on You (The Wilde Sisters #1)

by Marianne Rice

  Once home, Trent wrapped the fresh sea scallops in bacon, sprinkling brown sugar on top. After setting the oven to broil, he sliced the zucchini and seasoned it with garlic, salt, pepper, and Parmesan cheese. Garlic wasn’t his first choice on a date, but as long as they were both eating it…hell, what was he thinking? There’d be no homeruns tonight. Not even so much as first base. Friends. A friendly dinner. Enjoyable conversation. And a beautiful woman.

  Trent was doomed.

  ***

  Rayne

  “The denim mini-skirt or blue capri pants?” Dressed in a light pink bra and matching panties, Rayne held up both and checked out her reflection in the mirror. “The skirt shows off the legs, not that he hasn’t seen them before. The capris enhance the butt. He’s sort of seen that.” She turned and eyed her butt in the mirror. “Too bad he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about either.” Rayne sighed and plopped down on her bed. “I know I’m totally doomed when I have full-fledged conversations with myself.”

  She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed again. “If you got a dog or a cat or even a freakin’ gerbil you could justify talking out loud and carrying on a conversation in your apartment. You wouldn’t be considered a total freak.” Rayne snorted, giving her reflection an eye roll. “Whatever. Capri’s it is. No need for easy access. This girl ain’t gettin’ lucky tonight.”

  She turned away from the mirror and shimmied into her clothes. After buttoning up her pink sleeveless blouse, Rayne slipped on pink flip-flops decorated with a big fluffy flower and studied her reflection one more time.

  “Oh, screw it.” She undid two buttons and checked out her cleavage. Not Hooters material but not too shabby, either. Gathering her purse and popping a mint in her mouth, she closed her apartment door behind her and headed to her car, cursing the turmoil in her belly.

  Right on time, Rayne rang Trent’s doorbell. She had barely taken her finger off the button when he yanked the door open and smiled.

  “Hey, I thought you’d never get here. Come in.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her in.

  “Um, I didn’t mix up the time, did I?”

  “No, but I took the scallops out of the oven twenty minutes ago and I don’t know how long they’ll stay fresh. Here. Try one.” He slid a scallop in her mouth before she could protest.

  “Ohmigod,” she said around a mouthful of deliciousness. “This is aweshome.” Trent smiled and picked up another. Rayne held out her hand. “Wait.” She chewed and swallowed. “Let me process. Wow. Amazing. How did you do that? I’ve had scallops and bacon before but…wow.”

  “It’s the brown sugar. It caramelizes on the bacon. And you thought you didn’t have a sweet tooth. Here.” Trent plucked another off the plate and held it up to her mouth.

  Afraid of the intimate contact, she reached out her hand, grabbing the little piece of heaven, and bit into it. The saltiness of the bacon, tenderness of the scallop, and surprisingly sweet taste on her tongue hit so many senses at once. Kind of like Trent.

  No. Exactly like him.

  Getting hot around the collar and she’d only taken four steps into his condo. How the heck would she survive an evening with the man of her dreams?

  “Wine?”

  “Mmm, what?”

  “Would you like some wine? You said pinot, right?”

  “Yes, please. That would be great.” She followed him into the kitchen, where an array of delicious aromas filled the air. “Oh, wow, Trent. I figured you could cook, but I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “You haven’t even tasted the grub yet. Save your compliments until you’ve tried my dessert.”

  “You know, this has only encouraged me to kick your butt at many more contests. I love winning. And I think cooking a meal should be my prize every time.”

  Trent barked out a laugh. “Pipe down, pipsqueak. First, you haven’t eaten anything yet. Well, an appetizer, but that hardly counts. Second, I don’t plan on losing to you ever again. And third, I don’t plan on betting ever again for the rest of my life.”

  This time Rayne laughed. “As if. You’re a gambling man if I ever met one. I give you one week before you take on another bet.”

  “Nice try. I’m not falling for that one.” Trent tossed the shrimp in a sauté pan and swirled it around with the expertise of a gourmet chef.

  After the most amazing meal she’d ever tasted, they did the dishes together and moved out to his deck to enjoy the evening breeze.

  “How about a game of chess?” Rayne tapped at the base of her wine glass.

  “No.”

  “Uno?”

  “No.”

  “Strip poker?” Trent eyed her suspiciously. “Kidding. Geesh, you really don’t like to lose, do you?”

  Trent sighed. “I’m not worried about losing, but I’m not making any more bets.”

  “Ha! You don’t like losing to me. I never said anything about making a bet. I was just thinking of something to do.” That didn’t involve taking our clothes off.

  And it was all her fault. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Coming up with ridiculous games to play only made her seem more desperate. They needed to stick to outdoor activities that didn’t require as much conversation.

  “We could hike Mt. Washington or something next week. It’s your pick, but since you went to all this trouble over dinner I don’t mind planning it.” She avoided eye contact, not wanting to see any lingering pity in his eyes.

  “Um, sure. Whatever you feel like doing is fine with me.”

  Her heart sank. Trent didn’t sound excited. More like he was pacifying her. Avoiding conflict so as to not hurt her feelings. Yeah. She understood that tactic.

  “Well, thanks for dinner. I’m going to head out. I’ll be in touch.” Rayne shot up and opened the slider, letting herself in his house. She snatched up her keys from the counter and was nearly out the front door when she felt his presence behind her.

  “Rayne.” His deep baritone stopped her in her tracks. She kept her back to him and her hand firmly on the doorknob. “Thanks for coming over. Dinner was…nice.”

  What? Dinner was nice? Why the heck was he thanking her? Realization dawned on her once again, making her feel even more like a fool. A pity thank you. Something she would have said to a man she was not interested in after a date. Rayne closed her eyes and forced back her tears.

  Somehow her mind sent the message to her hand to turn the knob and she let herself out of his home…and most likely, his life.

  ***

  Trent

  Two weeks went by with no word from Rayne.

  Trent had never been turned down by a woman before. Damn if this didn’t feel like some sort of rejection. The days rolled into each other, making each cake, each pastry, each new confection blend into the next. He’d made another quick trip across country and had been tempted to call Rayne after his final screen test. She’d appreciate his storytelling about the eccentric film groupies he’d encountered while in LA and encourage him to follow his dreams. He couldn’t share this experience with her. He’d seen the hope in her eyes. Rayne might be telling herself that she could handle a quickie affair, but he knew better and wouldn’t lead her on. For once, Trent’s future was looking bright. If everything went according to plan, he’d be packing up his condo and moving west before Christmas.

  Trent felt bad leaving his sister and Brian and his little niece behind, but they had each other and wouldn’t miss him too much. He’d visit a few times a year. It was leaving the woman who made him laugh, who challenged him, who turned him on more than any other woman ever had, that made him sad.

  Brian razzed him about his sullen mood, and no amount of beer, pizza, and Red Sox wins could get him out of his funk. Only one thing, one woman, knew how to test him, provoke him, and turn him on.

  And he turned her down flat. What the hell was he thinking? Damn, he worried and over-analyzed more than a woman. He needed to get laid.

  Unfortunately only one woman held his interest. And she w
as completely out of his reach.

  “Dude, you in?”

  Trent studied his cards. “I fold, and I’m outta here.”

  “Come on, Kip. It’s only nine. Faith isn’t even in bed yet. Stay for one more round.”

  The other men sitting around the poker table sighed and pushed back their chairs.

  “Ah, come on, Trent. Now everyone is going to leave,” Brian whined.

  Jerry, the fire chief at Brian’s station, stretched and slowly stood. “I gotta go too, man. Jillian’s been after me about all my night shifts. Seems I should be home at a reasonable hour.”

  Tim snorted. “Jer just wants to get laid.”

  “Yeah, that too.” Jerry laughed.

  “Well, if you guys leave, we might as well go too.” Dave shoved another handful of peanuts in his mouth before scooping up his winnings. “I kinda like Kip’s girly mood. It’s the only way the money falls my way.”

  Tim followed Dave out. The two were inseparable in every way. No one at the fire station commented on their relationship. It was the old, “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy but everyone knew. And it didn’t seem to bother anyone. What they did behind closed doors was their business, just like what happened behind Trent’s was his. Not that anything was happening behind or in front of his doors.

  “Thanks, man. Sorry for bailing out. I’m just not feeling the poker vibe tonight.” Trent picked up the empty beer bottles and carried them into the kitchen.

  “Dude, just call her.”

  “Don’t know what you mean, man.” Trent went back in the living room to clear the peanut mess. His friends were slobs and Claire would have his balls if he left her a mess to clean in the morning.

  “Kip.” Brian grabbed the empty chip bag out of his hands. “Trent. Something’s gotta give. Just call Rayne and tell her you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not.” Brian laughed. “Okay, maybe I am, but I didn’t do anything this time.”

  “So what’s the deal with you two? What happened to your Disney relationship? Kayaking trips and crap?”

  “Dunno.” Trent shrugged. “Guess she moved on.”

  “Moved on? Thought you guys were just friends? I didn’t know people moved on from friends.”

  Exasperated, Trent rolled his eyes and pulled out his keys from his pocket. “Gotta go, man. Thanks for the beer. Next poker night is at my place.”

  ***

  Rayne

  “You should just jump his bones. Take what you want.”

  “Sage!” Rayne glared at her sister over her wine glass.

  “Wow, who would have thought our loveless sister would ever suggest such a thing?” Thyme muttered before biting in to a chip.

  “Sarcasm isn’t pretty or cute, Thyme. You’re in no condition to offer love advice.”

  “Oh, stop it you two. Seriously. I thought we could have a girls’ night out, not a night of bickering.” Rayne filled her glass with the rest of the chardonnay and slid some more chicken nachos on to her plate.

  “Our big sister is heartless—”

  “Better than being too dumb to—”

  “Stop it!” Rayne stood up, knocking the table and spilling her wine. “I didn’t ask you two to come over to pick on my love life—”

  “Or lack thereof,” Sage muttered.

  “Or to pick on each other,” Rayne said, ignoring her sister’s comment and mopping up the spill on the table. “With Mom and Dad gone for the next six months, I figured it was time for us to start acting more like sisters.”

  “Leave it to Pollyanna to—”

  “Shut up, Sage.” Rayne’s outburst quieted both sisters. “I’m serious. We need to talk about Mom and Dad. And us. This,” she extended her arm across the mess on the table, “isn’t helping.” She sighed and lowered herself to her chair. “Let’s face it, Mom and Dad are crappy parents. Always have been, always will be. All we have is each other. They’ve taken off for God knows where and who knows when we’ll see them again. Girls, we need to be close again. Like we were when we were little.”

  “Yeah, back when Sage wasn’t a bitch,” Thyme said with a smile.

  “And when Thyme listened to her elders,” Sage teased.

  “Yes, you are my elder. I’ll try to listen better to you.”

  “Shut up, little punk.” Sage clinked her wine glass to Thyme’s and then Rayne’s. “To sisters,” she said.

  “To sisters,” they echoed back.

  Rayne bit back her tears, her clouded gaze moving from sister to sister. If only she had Sage’s courage and confidence and Thyme’s free spirit, Rayne would be able to face Trent and actually go after what she dreamed of. What if…what if…

  “Don’t think about what if,” Sage said, interrupting her thoughts. She was good like that. They’d always been closer, and acted more like a mother hen to Thyme. “Honestly, Raynie, I’ve seen you when you think you’re head-over-heels in love. That’s when you act stupid.”

  “Hey—”

  “Shut up. You do. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. You turn all Pollyanna, believing the world is perfect, along with your man of the hour. This time, no, this time is different.” Sage swirled her wine, set it down, picked off a chunk of chicken from the nachos and slowly chewed. “This guy, your baker man, he’s different. Totally into you, not just your body. The fact that he turned down no-strings-sex says he’s just your type.”

  “You offered him no-strings sex? Why didn’t I know about this?”

  Rayne smiled apologetically at her sister. “I was going to tell you, I just happened to see Sage first.” Sort of a lie. She saw Sage first because she called her first.

  “Okay, I can get beyond that part, but I can’t get beyond you offering free sex. Holy freaking cow. I don’t even know you anymore. So I take it he said no? Wow. The man is either gay or…I don’t know. What else is there?”

  Feeling guilty once again for leaving Thyme out, Rayne decided it best not to fill her little sister in on how her relationship with Trent got started. Instead, she started with the most important.

  “Trent and I get along really well, Thyme. He’s perfect for me. We hang out, do all the adventure sports I’ve been dying to do since forever, he can cook like a god and obviously bakes like one too.”

  “You’re eating sugar now?”

  “No, I haven’t stepped that far off the ledge. Yet. Anyway, I told him I wanted to take our relationship to the next level. You know…have sex. And he said no.”

  “No? Just like that? Why? Why would any red-blooded male say no to sex?” Here lay part of the problem with Thyme. She enjoyed men a little too much.

  “Trent is an honorable man. He said he was afraid it would ruin our friendship.”

  “There’s gotta be more to the story than that.”

  Rayne sighed. Her sisters knew her too well. “I told him about my past relationships and that I tend to…sort of fall in love at the drop of a hat. Trent is a great guy but he’s not into relationships, commitment, the happily ever after that I’m into. He knows I want all of that and he can’t give it to me. So…no sex for us.”

  “That’s just wrong.” Thyme finished off her wine and scraped up the last of the salsa with a tortilla chip.

  “Raynie,” Sage said. “You want to, don’t you? You’re willing to risk your heart just to get closer to him, aren’t you?”

  She nodded and rose from the table clearing the platter and her wine glass. Unfortunately, her head was not quite so easy to clear.

  ***

  Trent

  Closing up the bakery in the afternoon was therapeutic. He had the kitchen to himself while Marie finished the paperwork up front. The familiar scents of vanilla and sugar filled the air while his hands kept busy kneading the dough for tomorrow’s bread. Images of Rayne played through his head, and his groin tightened. Trent gave up on the proper technique to make sure the dough was light and airy as his hands squeezed, imagining it was Rayne’s skin. Her butt, her chest. His mind took over and soon he forg
ot his surroundings.

  Skin as pure as silk slid under his palm as his fingers itched to find the curve of her hip, then the indent of her waist and the swell of her chest. He imagined his mouth slowly working its way from her wet lips down her silky neck to her—

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Trent jerked his eyes open and nearly dropped the dough on the ground. “Hey! Hi, no. I’m, uh, I’m kneading dough.” Damn, she was beautiful. Rayne’s hair fell in soft ribbons around her face. She didn’t wear it down often and it gave her a sexy, innocent appeal. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail made her appear sexy and innocent as well. Rayne could wear a paper bag over her head and she’d still turn him on.

  Long, toned legs—the same legs he’d imagined earlier—traveled miles until they reached the ragged hem of incredibly short denim shorts. Her teal tank top didn’t quite meet the top of them, revealing a hint of tanned skin.

  “Trent?”

  Damn, busted again. He couldn’t hear her over the loud thump of his heart. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted right now.” A lot distracted by you.

  “Think you can escape from this hell hole? Or is the boss still busting your butt around here?”

  “I think he’ll give me time off for good behavior.” So lame. Where the hell did that come from? Was it his imagination or was she checking him out? He pretended to be interested in his dough ball and pounded it a few more times, but his elbow accidentally brushed up against her chest. He looked up, expecting her to jump back, but she leaned in closer.

  “I was actually hoping you’d get time off for a little bad behavior,” she whispered into his mouth.

  God only gave him so much restraint, and God knew he was at the end of his rope. Dropping the dough, he plunged his hands into Rayne’s hair and drew her towards his body. She didn’t resist. Didn’t even act surprised. When he started to pull back for air she pushed her chest into him and sucked his mouth into hers, not breaking their seal.