by Tawny Weber
“Fine, fine.” Pushing to his feet, he held out a couple of envelopes, then lifted them high before Vivian could take them.
She ground her teeth to keep from screaming. What was the purpose of older brothers? The only thing keeping her from kneeing him in the groin and rolling his damaged body out the door was knowing that Zane would be here any second now.
“Michael,” she said in her most threatening voice. “If you mess up my date, I’m going to hurt you.”
“Who’s the guy?” Her mail still in his hand, he wandered over to the table to scoop up a handful of sugared almonds, popping them one by one into his mouth. “Anyone I know?”
The knock on the door echoed through Vivian’s head.
Uh-oh.
Vivian used Mike’s distraction to grab her mail just as the door opened. A quick flip showed a couple of bills, an equipment catalog, two lingerie magazines and an oversized manila envelope.
She wasn’t sure if the sinking feeling in her stomach was from the look on her brother’s face at the sight of Zane or from the Culinary Institute’s return address on the large envelope.
“Yo, Bennett,” Mike greeted Zane with a big grin and a slap on the back. “How’d you know where to find me?”
After a questioning look at Vivian, who only shrugged, Zane returned the greeting and sidestepped the question.
Content to be ignored for the moment, she stared at the envelope. Here it was. The answer to whether she was good enough, whether her designs were strong enough, whether her vision was focused enough to be worthy of pursuing.
Or, as her family always said, if she was just wasting her time. Catering to the crass, focusing on the tacky. Those and oh-so-many more phrases circled her brain as Vivian stared at the envelope.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. A quick glance at the men assured her that they were deep in discussion about who might have decapitated the float head.
Heart trembling, she slowly, carefully slid her fingernail under the slit in the envelope, trying not to make a sound as she opened it.
She could have set it on fire for all the attention the men were paying to her, though. Realizing that, she pulled out the papers and read the cover letter.
Everything in her head went blurry.
“C’mon. Let’s hit Myer’s for a drink. We’ll see you later, Viv.”
Vivian blinked, bringing the pages back into focus when Mike’s comment pulled her out of her shocked fog.
“What?” Sweeping her bangs aside to better frown at them. “You’re leaving? Both of you?”
“Of course.”
“Actually, I’m busy tonight,” Zane said with a warm smile for Vivian.
Oh, yeah, he was. Vivian found her own smile as she imagined just how busy she planned for him to be. She had a gallon of fudge ripple and a bowl of homemade whipped caramel cream waiting.
“Too busy to hang out with the guys?” Mike demanded. “What could be more important than that? Besides, Vivian has a date.”
He caught the look that passed between them.
“Whoa. Wait a second.” Hand held high in denial, Mike glanced from Zane to Vivian and back again, then shook his head. “No way. You are not my sister’s date.”
It was rare to hear her brother in a temper, but that was definitely his pissed off voice.
Trying to think of a way to defuse the situation without ruining her evening, Vivian gulped back the knot of worry that was stuck in her throat.
Not for Zane. Not even with a crowbar could Mike put a dent in her SEAL.
Zane only shrugged and asked casually, “No?”
“That’s my sister.”
“Yeah. And you were the one who said that your sister can take care of herself.”
Vivian blinked in surprise before pride trickled in, making her lift her chin and stiffen her spine. Yeah, she could.
“She can take care of herself with regular guys, sure. Most of them are scared of her.”
What? Her chin dropped again, this time in shock. Who was afraid of her? Well, Lenny was, but he didn’t count. He was afraid of anything with breasts. Kyle could never look her in the eye, but that was because his were always on her breasts.
Of course, they were good breasts, she admitted to herself when she saw Zane checking them out. Especially when showcased by the square neckline of her favorite floral dress.
“What the hell, dude? I thought you were romancing Quinn Oswald. Why are you here with my sister?”
What? Vivian stopped running her fingers along the edge of her bodice.
“I never said I was romancing Quinn,” Zane denied with a shake of his head.
“The hell you didn’t.”
“Let’s review, shall we? If you recall, my exact words were that I was romancing someone very special. You assumed that meant Quinn.”
Awww. Vivian actually felt her heart melt into a big puddle of goo at his words. It took a little effort, but she managed to ignore it. Because she wanted to know what the hell Quinn had to do with anything.
Apparently her brother knew. The vein in Mike’s forehead was pulsing and he looked ready to punch the hell out of Zane.
“I assumed that because of the challenge.”
“What challenge?”
Squaring off like a pair of dogs over a bone, the men both ignored Vivian’s question.
“And what about the bro code?” Mike yelled, waving his arms in the air like a duck losing altitude. “Did you ask my permission before dating my sister?”
“Who are you to give me permission to date?”
They ignored that, too, as Zane laughed off Mike’s argument like it was as lame as the duck flapping.
“You waived the bro code. You even said your sister could take care of herself.”
Oh. Vivian stood a little straighter, her smile filled with pride. She’d never realized her brother had so much faith in her.
“She’s my sister,” Mike shouted, as if that was enough of a reason. “And you’re dating Quinn.”
Her smile disappeared, stunned pain replacing pride.
“Dating—” She couldn’t get the words past the roaring in her head. Zane was dating? Dating another woman? Quinn Oswald? He was dating the perfect woman? Vivian’s breath hitched.
“You’ve been romancing Quinn Oswald?” She hugged her arms tight. “Pikes Peak’s Princess?”
Not only pretty, but sweet and friendly and, according to all of the rumors, the goal of every single man in town.
And Zane was chasing after her? Vivian’s vision blurred into a haze of fury.
“Out,” she snapped, pointing at the door.
“Vivian, let me explain.”
“Not you,” she told Zane, slapping her hand on his chest. “Mike. Out. Now.”
“Viv—”
“Go.” Since words weren’t doing the job, she added a nice shove to get her brother moving. Then, his protests still echoing, she slammed and locked the door.
The same door Zane had first taken her against, she remembered, drawing in a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry about that. It’s no big deal,” he said, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring a hefty portion. “You know Mike, the guys, they’re always issuing these challenges. Like drag racing down Main, jumping off the gym roof, dancing on the cafeteria table.”
He offered her the glass and what she assumed was an attempt at a charming smile.
Vivian didn�
��t accept either.
“Those were in high school, Zane. High school was ten years ago for you.”
“A challenge is a challenge,” he defended, looking fierce. “A man can’t walk away from a challenge. C’mon, Vivian, it’s no big deal. You know Mike, Lenny, Kyle and the gang. They’re idiots about this kind of thing. You can’t really be upset about it, can you?”
He held out the glass again. This time, Vivian took it, carried it to the sink and, her eyes locked on his, poured it straight down. Something flashed in Zane’s eyes, but she was too angry to try to decipher it.
“I take that as a yes.”
“Yes, Zane. You should definitely take it as a yes, I’m upset.”
“You shouldn’t be. It’s not like I’m interested in Quinn.”
Vivian drew in a long, slow breath between clenched teeth, then asked, “Did you take her out? Did you actually date her?”
Zane’s hesitation was infinitesimal, but she caught it.
So she shouldn’t have been surprised when he admitted, “It was just coffee.”
“Just coffee. But you’re not interested. Yet you’re dating her anyway.” Vivian’s lower lip trembled, her heart—the one she’d been so sure wasn’t at risk—feeling like he’d just drop kicked it out the window. “So that makes me, what? The consolation prize?”
“No, c’mon, Vivian. Don’t make this into something it isn’t. I’m not sleeping with Quinn. I’m not even interested in her like that.”
But Vivian caught it. The unspoken something at the end of that sentence.
“You’re going to keep going with this stupid challenge, aren’t you?”
Zane looked baffled, as if she’d asked him if he was actually going to save the drowning puppy.
“Of course. A challenge was extended, I accepted. I can’t back down. I never back down.”
“You’re not backing out of this challenge,” she realized, sinking onto the couch. She rubbed her hand over her forehead before meeting his eyes again.
“You don’t get it,” he said with a smile, sitting opposite her. “This is who I am. Meeting challenges, facing the difficult, it’s what I do.”
“What you choose to do.”
“Yes. Because that’s how I achieve things. That’s how I make them happen. You keep talking about what you want to do, about your dream of building your business, right? How is that not a challenge?”
“That’s different.”
Zane reached across the table to take her hand in his.
“How?” he asked, nibbling on one finger, then the next. “What’s the difference? You want something, right? In this case, your career. In my case, to uphold my rep.”
He scraped his teeth over her finger, sparking a flash of desire deep in her belly, before he swirled his tongue along the side. Vivian bit her lip to keep from moaning.
“You want to make your career rock, Vivian. Then step up and do it. Reach out and take it.”
He gave her finger one last nip, nibbled his way up her wrist. Vivian’s breath came a little faster as he slid his lips over her shoulder, then whooshed out when he buried his mouth in the crook of her neck.
“I want it,” she admitted with a low moan. “I really do.”
His fingers skimmed her breasts, dipping and teasing their way over the edge of her bodice.
“Are you willing to work for it?” he asked, his words low and husky in her ear. “To take risks for it? To put it all on the line to have it?”
God, yes.
She’d give anything to have it right now. To strip it bare, to climb on and ride it for all it was worth. She’d milk every drop of satisfaction from it.
Her breath shook with the tiny orgasm rippling through her body.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?”
Vivian’s eyes fluttered open to focus on Zane’s face. Those sexy eyes and that wicked smile. God, he was gorgeous. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so good, so amazing. Staring at Zane, she realized it wasn’t just the orgasm. It was the feeling she got being around him.
“It feels amazing,” she admitted, wishing they were talking about the same thing.
“You want to make your dream come true, move to Southern California,” he suggested, nibbling on her knuckles now. “There are hundreds of specialty bakeries in the area. SoCal is the entertainment capital of the world. There’s no place that’d appreciate erotic desserts more, except maybe Las Vegas.”
Vivian opened her mouth but nothing came out. Probably because all the air had been sucked away, leaving her gasping.
“Say I move to California,” she managed. “Would I see you again?”
“See me?” He laughed. “Babe, you make the best cupcakes I’ve ever tasted. You’d see me all the time.”
Oh, boy, there it was.
All her dreams, right there on a gorgeous platter.
Vivian’s lips trembled into a hesitant smile, her heart racing with excitement.
He loved her cupcakes.
Wait.
Cupcakes.
She wet her lips.
“Did you take her one of my cupcakes?”
10
“IN ORDER TO romance Quinn Oswald into a date, did you take her one of my cupcakes?”
“What?”
Vivian tried to ignore the kick-in-the-gut pain, but it was stealing her breath.
“You did, didn’t you?”
For the first time since he’d walked in the door, Zane looked uncomfortable.
“Look, we’re not talking about cupcakes.”
“No.” Vivian pulled her hand away and pushed off the couch. “We’re talking about challenges. Something you’ll apparently take at any cost.”
“You’re holding out for guarantees, clinging to your safety net. And you accuse me of having a problem?” Zane shook his head. “The only way to grow is to take risks, Vivian. If you want something, you have to be willing to pay the price to get it.”
“And in this case, the price you’re willing to pay is us,” Vivian shot back, refusing to hear what she knew he was saying.
“C’mon, Vivian. You don’t actually expect me to walk away from a challenge, do you?”
She wanted to ask him to do it for her. She wanted to tell him that while it didn’t mean anything to him, and it might not even mean anything to Quinn, it meant something to her. It would mean that she was important to him. That she mattered.
Dammit, it’d mean he cared. He wanted her to walk away from her safety net. All she had to do was risk everything, put it all on the line. All of her dreams. The career dreams, the relationship dreams. Everything.
What if she failed?
Her stomach wrapped itself into knots so tight she could barely breathe.
“Look, Vivian—”
No. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to know she was great, but not quite great enough. She didn’t want to hear that she was special, if only she’d change one little thing or the other.
“You should go.”
“Look, let’s eat that delicious lasagna and talk this through.”
Vivian stalked into the kitchen, grabbed the lasagna off the counter, shoved it into his hands, then waved her arm.
“Please go.” She jabbed her finger toward the door. “I’m sure you have a date, or whatever.”
“Viv.”
“Look, I’m starting to fall for you. So go, please, before I actually finish the fall.”
Zane’s mouth dropped open. He closed it. Before he could voice the shock—or pan
ic, or both—that was clear on his face, she did the unthinkable.
She cried.
She managed to keep it to a single tear, but it was enough to get him out the door.
And all she could think was Oh, God. Had she actually said that?
Vivian stared at the closed door for so long that her eyes burned. But no amount of denial could change the facts.
She’d just told Zane Bennett, the hottest guy she’d ever known, that she was falling in love with him.
Vivian groaned.
First that letter. Now this?
Could this night get any worse?
* * *
PANIC SLAMMED THROUGH Zane’s system. Lasagna in hand, he stared at the closed door. At least he thought it was panic. He’d never panicked before in his life, so he might be wrong. But remembering the single tear glisten a silvery track down Vivian’s cheek, he didn’t think so.
An hour later, Zane still felt like shit.
He’d finished off the entire lasagna, which had been unquestionably delicious, but could have used a little garlic bread to sop up the sauce.
Now he sat at the small jut of Formica Lenny called a kitchen table with a full stomach, wondering what the hell had happened. He debated finding his cell phone, calling Xander. Or Lansky. Or maybe he could try Vivian again.
But three calls after she’d told him to get out of her apartment was probably too much.
“Zane, what are you doing here?”
“I was craving bad coffee.” He lifted the mug that claimed that This Is What a War Machine Looks Like. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a hot date.”
“I did, we did, now it’s done.” Grabbing a beer, Lenny dropped into the torn chair opposite him and took a mouthful. “Hottest fifteen minutes of her night, let me tell you.”
“My man.” Zane toasted him with his mug. “You sure know how to rock the ladies of Little Creek.”
“How about you? I thought you had plans tonight.”
