Served Sweet Read online

Anson grinned. “I think what your mother is trying to say is that you’re every bit as conceited as I am.”

  “You are,” Cheryl agreed. “But she wears it a lot better. You’re mouthy about it,” she said to Anson.

  “I don’t know I’d say mouthy.”

  “I would.” Riley gave him a wide smile, pleased her mother had finally stood up for her.

  “You’re still working through your infatuation with me,” he said offhandedly. To her mother he added, “That’s why she’s so aggressive. She’s hiding deep feelings.”

  Riley gritted her teeth and did her best not to throttle the man. “Anson Black…”

  Her mother seemed way too entertained. “You know, Anson, your mother and I have the most interesting conversations about you. You should come to a Pink Lady Gathering sometime. The things you’d learn…”

  “Ah, I try to make it a habit not to be around my mother when she’s drinking. She says all kinds of things I wouldn’t take seriously.”

  “Oh? Maybe I’ll go to a Pink Lady Gathering.” Under the table, Riley rubbed her foot against his, and he tensed.

  Her mother laughed. “I don’t know, sweetie. We talk about you too. It’s funny how much you two have in common. Like this bet, for instance. I could see either one of you coming up with an idea to see who’s better than the other. But knitting?” She laughed. “What made you come up with that idea, Riley? You hate knitting.”

  “Well, it was something neither of us is good at. This way we can see who’s better.”

  “So competitive.” Anson shook his head.

  “Oh please. You’re exactly the same.”

  “You are,” her mother agreed.

  “I may be,” he conceded. “But in truth, I didn’t move my restaurant next to Riley’s to prove I’m better than her. It’s prime location.”

  “A smart business decision.” Her mother nodded. “You know, being smart about business and all, it would make more sense to bring Riley to your open house than me. You could put on a united front and drum up more business.”

  Cheryl and Anson looked at Riley.

  “What?”

  Anson shrugged. “It’s not a bad idea. I think it would be better if customers saw us not as competitors, but as working together. It’s your call of course. I can always get someone else to make our desserts. I was thinking of hiring a pastry chef anyway, but it’s an expense I wouldn’t need if you’d lend your expertise.”

  “You want me to cook for you? I have a fulltime job.”

  “No. I want license to use your recipes. You create something new, just for us. I’ll cut you in on the profit, and you get the credit for it.”

  That was a pretty good deal. But she didn’t know why he’d bother when he could simply hire someone else to do the job for him. “So you want me.”

  The smoldering expression in his eyes said volumes. “You’re the best at what you do, aren’t you? I only work with the best. And we’d have a nice legal contract detailing everything. No questionable business practices when you deal with me.”

  “There you go, honey.” Her mother sounded way too satisfied. “A match made in heaven.”

  “Or hell,” she muttered under her breath. By the gleam in Anson’s eyes, he seemed to have heard her.

  “So then you’ll go with Anson to his thing next week.” Her mother nodded. “Good. I’ll still come, Anson, but not as your date.”

  “I’m crushed, Mrs. Hewitt.”

  Her mother batted her eyelashes, looking flushed. Her own mother.

  Riley huffed. “Oh fine. If it will help, I’ll go.”

  He frowned. Before he could say anything though, the waitress brought the check.

  Her mother snatched it off the table before Anson could move.

  “You’re quick.”

  “I spent eighteen years living with this one.” Cheryl nodded at Riley. “It was eat or be eaten at our house.”

  “Oh please. That was all you and Grandma.”

  Anson chuckled. “Our house was much tamer. Unless Dex was over. Then things could get tense.”

  “Come on,” Riley argued. “He was so sweet and cute as a kid.”

  “Don’t let the memories of his geekiness fool you. He was a master strategist back then. Only my intelligence and aptitude for victory kept me ahead.”

  “Yeah, no conceited ego there. It’s all in my head.”

  After more teasing, her mother paid their bill and walked with them out of the restaurant. “I’m sorry to have to cancel on you two today, but I have a few errands to run.”

  Errands her retired mother couldn’t do tomorrow?

  “That’s too bad. I could use some help with my casting. It’s not as easy as it looks.” Anson sighed.

  “I’ll bet.” Her mother sounded sarcastic, but she left before Riley could question her.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  “Huh?” He walked with her toward his car.

  “My mom.” She watched him, looking for a sign of weakness. “This bet of ours…do you already know how to knit?”

  He just stared at her.

  “Yeah, that sounded stupid in my head, but I had to ask.” Imagine him sitting with needles and yarn. The idea made her laugh.

  “Very funny.” He sounded disgruntled. “And for your information, my grandmother tried forcing me to knit when I was a kid. I had some long summers on the ranch in Montana.”

  “I’ll bet.” She shook her head and got into the car with him. “My mom was so into it. My grandma too. They tried to get me to like it, but honestly, I found it boring. So repetitive.”

  Anson started the car and drove them toward her place. “My grandmother said it was a terrific way to clear her mind.”

  “You still see her?”

  He nodded. “I try to get out to the ranch twice a year at least. Once in the summer, once in the winter.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “She’s not getting any younger. She’ll be seventy-five next month.”

  “Wow.”

  They pulled into her driveway, and Anson said, “Your grandmother passed away a while ago, didn’t she?”

  “Yep. Back when I was in high school. It was hard. I loved her a ton. But I still have Mom, and I know Grandma is up in heaven watching over me.” She blushed at how naïve she sounded. “Sounds silly, but that’s the way I like to think of her.”

  “I don’t think that’s silly.” Anson tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I like it. The thought of loved ones looking over us. I’m fortunate I never had to deal with loss like that. You have.” He looked into her eyes, and she again felt that instant connection.

  The bond with her one-time enemy was growing, and she didn’t know how to feel about that. Hell, she’d agreed to go with him to his open house. Was even considering partnering with him on this dessert thing. She must have lost her mind.

  He stroked her cheek, and she sucked in a breath. “Did you ever wonder why I try so hard to be the best at everything?”

  She shook her head, and he continued to touch her face.

  “Because I have something to prove.”

  She blinked. “You do?”

  “Yeah. To my parents, to my friends. To you.” He leaned close and kissed her, a soft peck on the lips that went straight to her heart. “I work hard to be the best. People remember the best. People want to be around the best.” He shrugged and pulled away, and she had no idea what lay under his words. It was like he was telling her a fundamental truth about himself, but one she couldn’t understand.

  Couldn’t just being oneself be enough?

  “Anson?”

  “I have work to do today. And some practice with knitting needles.” He gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

  “Dream on. I’m going to win our bet,” she said, despite no longer feeling the need to win.

  Then he added, “Don’t be a sore loser when I kick your ass, okay? Oh, and it’s important you look your best on Thursday at my opening. W
ould you like me to find you a dress?”

  She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  He shrugged. “You’re doing me a favor by coming with me. A united front. I like it. So I thought I’d help you out by buying you something suitable to wear. Something more appropriate than a tee shirt and jeans. What size are you anyway? And how do you feel about a black dress—”

  She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her. Then she circled to his side, pleased he’d reverted back to form. “Anson, don’t be an utter ass. My agreeing to go with you was a business decision. You’re good business. An idiot when it comes to people, but a genius with the food biz. I’ll see you Thursday evening and not before.”

  “But the dress, I—”

  “I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself, you moron.” She huffed. “Oh. I can’t believe you’re the same person I slept with last night. I must be losing my mind.”

  She turned on her heel and left him idling in her driveway.

  So she missed his satisfied smirk as he watched her storm into her house and slam the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Monday evening, Anson had put dinner off as long as he could. But the time had come to bite the bullet.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad.” He entered through his folks’ front door and accepted his dad’s bear hug.

  “Lookin’ good, son.” His father had the Black family classic good looks. He could have passed for Uncle Theo’s twin, except he was four years older. The brothers had always been tight, something which carried through to their children.

  Anson and Dex were closer than most brothers. Anson loved the guy, even if he’d have made different decisions regarding Dex’s life and career. Like taking his cousin’s photography to the next level, not settling in Bend to run a domestic studio and flirt with Maya—the she-devil his cousin planned on marrying.

  At the thought of menacing women, Riley’s scowling face came to mind. A stroke of genius on his part to ask about getting her a dress. As expected, she’d been grossly offended. And the closeness that had nearly smothered him in the restaurant had eased.

  God, he’d actually started thinking about a lifetime with her. Marriage and kids. Meeting her mother for family breakfast, then bringing her to his parents’ for family dinner. He’d enjoyed watching her interact with her mom, of having her sit next to him like they were a real couple.

  Such an insane wealth of feeling for a woman who hadn’t seemed to like him for most of his life.

  What the hell had he been thinking? That just because they had amazing sex and her mother liked him they’d make a terrific couple?

  Terrific couple of what? Inmates probably—after attempted murder on both their parts.

  “Anson, are you okay?” His father looked concerned.

  He shrugged off his insanity. “Fine, Dad. Just mentally preparing for Thursday night. You’re coming, aren’t you?”

  “Sure thing. My boy’s opening up a big restaurant in town, of course I’m going.” His father filled with pride.

  “There’s my handsome son. Come give your mother a kiss.” Kristen Black still looked like a million bucks. Tall, lean and pretty. Her dark hair showed white streaks and contrasted with her bright blue eyes. Though he took after his father in looks, he had enough of his mother inside him to please her to no end. According to her, he was a chip off her block, not his father’s.

  He smiled and met her in the entrance to the kitchen, where she waited with her arms outstretched. Enfolding her in a hug and lifting her off her feet, he waited until she squeaked that she couldn’t breathe. Then he set her back down and joined his parents at the dining table.

  After catching up and hearing about golf, a book club and more travel, they started peppering him with questions. As usual, he endeavored to make them proud.

  “The restaurant is looking good. I think our open house will generate the buzz it needs. Plus I’ve invited the press.”

  “Smart move.” His father nodded. Jonah Black had retired from running a high-end marketing firm that did ads for big name brands. “How long before you break even on this one, do you think?”

  There was no question of failure. To his bemusement, a part of Anson wanted to ask his father why he never considered the possibility Anson might fall short.

  “Ah, maybe a year and a half if we’re lucky. Outside of two I’d worry, but I don’t think we’ll need to deal with that. Considering the lack of competition in Bend for this caliber of fine dining experience, I think I’m good.” Redmond, a small town just north of Bend, had a restaurant with a similar feel, but Anson’s would be better. “We’re using organic meat and produce from local farms. Keeping it Bend-centric.”

  “Terrific idea. Those places seem to do best around here.” His father nodded. “With the tourists flocking for ski season and the summer, and the retired guys like me and your mother wanting a nice place to eat, I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”

  But what if I did? Anson wanted to ask. He’d been raised to believe in himself—to his detriment, according to Dex and Uncle Theo. Anson worked hard to succeed at everything. Failure was not an option, not even a consideration. He told the truth about himself and people said he bragged. What they failed to realize was how hard he worked at being the best. How much it meant to his family that he thrive on every playing field.

  Perhaps that’s why he’d never had a committed relationship. Because he could run numbers and study risk assessments and make logically based decisions. The closest he’d ever come to losing money had been on that coffee deal in Portland. But even then he’d relied on his gut, trusting his instincts to guide him.

  When it came to women, logic didn’t apply. Hell, even Riley confused him, and he found her to be one of the most rational, reasonable women he knew.

  “Honey, eat your dinner.” His mother pointed her fork in his direction. “You look like you’ve been losing weight. Everything okay?”

  “Fine.” He dug into his chicken, pleased at its taste. His mother loved cooking and cleaning. Domesticity was her bag, and she and her husband loved being together. They’d made a real go of their marriage, and he’d never seen them weather hard times. Perhaps if he found someone as even-keeled, accepting and doting as his mother, he’d be able to shrug off his anxiety at a relationship. But that left Riley off the hook. She didn’t seem very doting of him. At all.

  “So how do you like being back?” his mother asked.

  “We’re tickled pink you moved back, but you know that.” His father grinned. “I bet Theo a hundred you’d stick. No leaving town now.”

  “Funny, Dad.” Anson pushed around his salad, once again losing his appetite. Was Riley really mad at him? He’d prodded her for two reasons. One—to get some space. And two, because the woman was fucking gorgeous when angry. He looked forward to make-up sex. Since having her Saturday night, he thought about her constantly. Well, more than he had before having had sex with her. So…the same.

  He looked up to see his mother and father exchange a glance. “What?”

  His mother arched a brow at him. Riley was right. That was annoying. “Tell us about this bet you made with Riley.”

  “What?” He swallowed some tea, wishing he’d pushed off this dinner for another week or two.

  “Dexter told us you challenged Riley to another one of your competitions.” His mother sighed. “You’ve always been trying to one-up that poor girl.”

  “Poor girl? You have met Riley, haven’t you?”

  His mother continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “Riley’s Sweets is the best bakery in Bend. Talk about a successful venture. And Riley’s so pretty and nice. I just love Cheryl. We get together every now and then, and we talk.” She just watched him.

  “Talk about what?” he dared ask.

  “Oh, about…things.”

  His father stifled a smirk. The traitor.

  “Ah, well, about that bet. Riley suggested it. I think she’s still holding high school against me.”

&n
bsp; “Oh?” His mother didn’t look so pleased with Riley now. “Not your fault you’re the smartest boy in your school.”

  “Was the smartest boy, Kristen.” His father rolled his eyes. “You two are like peas in a pod. Cocky and not shy about letting the world know it.”

  His mother turned on his father with a frown and left Anson alone, thank God. “What are you saying? My son is wonderful, smart, talented and handsome. Why shouldn’t he bask in his accomplishments?” Anson agreed with her a hundred percent, but then she added, “Just because Riley Hewitt is jealous is no reason for her to be stirring up trouble.”

  Whoa. Talk about a one-eighty. “Um, Mom? Riley’s not stirring trouble.”

  “She’s trying to make you look bad with that bet, isn’t she?”

  Dex and his big frickin’ mouth. “It’s just for fun. Not a big deal or anything.”

  “Dex thought it was pretty funny, actually,” his father said. “But then, I mean, it is knitting.”

  Anson nodded. “Exactly. Who cares?”

  “I care. Do you want me to talk to her?”

  “To who, Mom?” Anson looked at his dad, who shrugged.

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “With Riley,” his mother said. “Or I could talk to her mother, tell her to leave you be since you have more important things to be worrying about than a silly bet that makes no sense, just to soothe Riley’s wounded ego.”

  “Mom, you do realize I’m thirty years old, right? I don’t need you fighting my battles.” Was the woman serious?

  She had that look in her eye that told him she was. Oh hell. “Anson Black, don’t you back talk me.”

  “I’m not back talking, I—”

  “Your future here is reliant on how well you do with your restaurant in town. I don’t want you leaving because some jealous girl has something to prove.”

  Anson stared from her to his father, who looked equally baffled by the woman’s craziness. “First off, Riley’s a woman, not a girl. Second, I’m a grown man. I appreciate your concern, but it’s totally unnecessary.”

  “But Anson, I—”

  “And third, I’m going to be working closely with Riley on said business. So I’d appreciate it if you’d be nice to her. No, I demand you be nice.” Subtle didn’t work with his mother. “She’s my partner, and I like her. Leave her alone, Mom. I mean it.” He hated to get firm with her, but if she went off on a tangent around Riley, there was no telling if Riley would ever speak to him again.