Served Sweet Page 3

  “I have no idea what happened with him. I only know I had happy time in the kitchen. I wasn’t even naked. I’m so lame.”

  “True, you are,” Maya agreed, and Riley couldn’t tell if Maya was teasing. “But come on, as much as Anson can be annoying, you’d have to be blind, dead or a lesbian not to notice he’s hot. And even gay women appreciate a fine looking man.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Despite her sarcasm, Riley did feel a little better. “So what now? We made a pact, and I have no idea what to do about him. You two at least tried to fulfill our revenge deal. I mean, you both failed, but you tried.”

  “Hey now.” Maya didn’t look pleased.

  “Well, Ann’s engaged, and we all know you’re soon to follow.”

  “Maybe. If Dex is lucky.”

  “What do I do about Anson? I didn’t have sex with him yet. Technically.”

  Ann looked like she was trying to hide a smile. “Technically.”

  Riley felt like a failure. “I guess I could still go for that case of blue balls you mentioned, Maya.”

  “Maybe. My guess is you’ll fold like a cheap chair if he gets you even half-naked.” Maya shook her head. “Let’s think about this. What do you really want from him? Dex and Jack were assholes to us. But what has Anson done to you except annoy us?”

  Ann raised a brow. “Us?”

  “I meant her. He annoys me too, but this is about Riley. Sad to see her be such a weenie when it comes to standing up for herself,” Maya said.

  Riley had always had a hard time explaining how she felt about Anson. “My problem with Anson stems from years of coming in second best to his big fat head. He’s smart and athletic and gorgeous. But he’s got such an ego. We were never friends. Any time I tried to make an overture, he’d mention his latest win or trophy. It’s like he could never just talk to me.”

  “Maybe you two should have met in the kitchen back in high school,” Ann said with a wink. “You could have talked together then and made friends.”

  “Ha ha.” Riley frowned.

  Maya laughed. “Good one, Ann.” She turned to Riley. “So you need to beat him at something?”

  “That sounds so childish.” Riley groaned. “But yes. God. He even beat me in that home economics challenge in middle school. At knitting. You have no idea how embarrassing that was to explain to my mother.” The queen of knitting needles and crochet hooks.

  “So enter that Best Dish contest the hospital is having in conjunction with the auction,” Ann said. “We all know Anson is already involved as Bachelor of the Season.”

  “Don’t you mean, in all existence, ever?” Maya said drily.

  Riley shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s not a cook. He’s a finance genius who opens restaurants. That doesn’t seem fair. I want to beat him at something we’re both not good at. Like, we’ll be on an even playing field.”

  “Well, I’d say that points you back to sex, but any woman who doesn’t even need groping to orgasm is way behind the curve.” Maya drank more coffee. “Too bad. You could have worked out your frustration on him.”

  “What frustration?” Riley checked the oven. Five more minutes.

  Ann answered, “Oh, come on. Riley’s Sweets has been your significant other for as long as I’ve known you.”

  “I date.”

  “Barely,” Maya interjected.

  Ann nodded. “And if any of them even seem to want more than dinner or a movie with you, you dump them because you say you’re too busy to get serious.”

  Riley crossed her arms. “It takes a lot of work to get a business off the ground, especially in the food industry.”

  “I agree.” Ann sipped from her cup. “Not saying it doesn’t. But why does being successful mean you can’t enjoy a man’s company for more than a few dates?”

  Maya slurped her coffee and glanced at the oven. “Yeah, because maybe if you had a man to help feed certain hungers, you wouldn’t be rockin’ it with Anson in Ann’s kitchen.”

  Riley groaned. “I still can’t believe I did that.”

  Ann and Maya sighed when the oven timer dinged. “Finally,” Maya said with a whimper. “I’m starved.”

  Ann reached over the counter for the plates as Riley removed the hot tray and turned off the oven. “You’ve had a thing for Anson for years. We all know it. Don’t deny it.”

  “Fine. Yes, he’s gorgeous. Something we all admit.”

  “And he’s good at sex,” Maya said. “Hey, don’t glare at me. You’re the one with no discipline, and in the kitchen of all places.”

  She was never going to let that drop, was she? “So what do I do now?”

  Ann and Maya looked at each other. Then Ann turned to Riley. “My advice? Remember what you told me. Revenge might seem like a good idea now, but it can only backfire later. Why not see where this thing, whatever it is, takes you?”

  “Translation—bang his brains out, then dump him when he irritates the shit out of you.” Maya took a bite of the roll Riley handed her and moaned. “God. There is no way anyone bakes as good as you do. You really want to win something? Challenge him to a bake-off.”

  “Still not fair, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of having sex. That’s letting him win from the get-go.” Riley mulled over her options. The primal part of her still wanted to take him to bed, despite his tendency to annoy her. But finally winning something, being better than him, that would thrill her to no end. Immature? Yes. Ridiculous to hold on to a youth full of resentment? You bet. Something she’d ever get over without dealing with it? Not a chance.

  “Well, whatever you do, try to be in charge of your options,” Maya suggested. “We all know what a control freak you are.”

  “Hey.”

  “Sad but true,” Ann said. “If baking and sex are off the table, you need to come up with something else. Something you’re both not good at, you said, to see if you can actually do it.”

  Riley thought about it. The pair had left—after ribbing her unmercifully—and her mother called.

  She answered while finishing getting ready for work. “Hey, Ma.”

  “Riley. What are you up to?” Her mother lived on the south side of town, a good seven minutes away. She liked to tease that the distance between them made their hearts grow fonder.

  “Same thing I was up to last week. Except I’m running behind to work.” Hint hint. She’d see her mother tomorrow for brunch and end up telling her everything Cheryl Hewitt wanted to know now.

  “How was the engagement party?”

  Riley sighed. “Great. Ma, listen, I love you, but I have to—”

  “Were Dexter and Anson Black there?”

  Riley froze. “Um, yeah. Why?”

  “No reason.” Her mother sounded way too chipper. “Well, I have to be going. I have my knitting group coming over in a bit.”

  “Okay. See you tomorrow. Love you.”

  “Love you too, baby.” Her mother hung up.

  As Riley finished dressing and ran out the door, she had an epiphany.

  Knitting. Home Ec. A do-over.

  She smiled. They’d have a contest, finally, where she’d come out on top. She knew it. After all, her mother knitted. It was in the blood. How hard could it be?

  Chapter Three

  Anson wondered what to expect. Monday evening, after a long day at the restaurant overseeing its interior construction and redesign, which his hands-on assistance made flow much smoother, he stood at the door of Riley’s home.

  Earlier in the afternoon, she’d asked him to come over after work. Actually invited him with a cupcake she’d sworn she’d baked just for him. When he’d asked her what she’d done to it, she hadn’t snapped back at him. She’d clenched her jaw, then forced a smile and told him eight o’clock.

  So now he waited, at five minutes to eight, trying to figure out how to handle her.

  Their scene at the party had been unexpected. Hell, he hadn’t come in his pants since he was a pubescent, horny teenager. All it had taken were
a few kisses, hearing her moan and feeling her writhe beneath him, and he’d lost it in Jack’s fucking kitchen.

  Keep it cool, idiot. He mentally counted by sevens and had just reached a hundred and thirty-three when the door opened. His mouth dried. Riley stood there wearing a clingy pink cotton shirt and a pair of tight-fitting jeans. He couldn’t help lingering over the curve of her hip, over the tight ass he was dying to feel around him. And could he really be blamed for staring at her beautiful breasts perfectly molded by her shirt? Pink really was her color.

  “You done?” she asked.

  “Almost.” Already tried and found guilty, he figured he might as well enjoy himself. His gaze made its way up her graceful neck to the bite of her chin, the full, sweetheart lips and button nose. Then he stared into her eyes, thinking if she hadn’t been a baker, she could have made a fortune smiling for the camera. She wore her hair down, and it looked so soft. He wanted to bury his fingers in it and drag her to him, but he knew better than to chance fate twice. “Okay. Done.”

  She rolled her eyes and stepped aside for him to enter.

  He strolled inside and looked around. She lived on the southwest side of town, in a busy subdivision filled with kids, families and retirees. Not as eclectic as his neighborhood, here all the houses looked the same, but she had a kickass kitchen, no doubt.

  He followed her into the living room and thought the house felt like her. Comfortable yet neat, lived-in yet high quality. Riley had always had an eye for taste, and she knew her antiques. He saw several older pieces that had to be worth a pretty penny, though he preferred a more modern, Scandinavian style.

  She led him to her living room. On the coffee table sat a plate of cheese and crackers, two wine glasses and a chilling bottle of wine. His heart raced. A stage set for seduction, he could only hope.

  She quickly abused him of that notion. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Get that look out of your eyes.”

  “What look?” He took a seat on the couch, noting the space she kept between them as she joined him.

  “You know.” She frowned.

  He wondered if she’d bring up the party, but as time passed and she sat studying him, he thought not.

  “You’re probably wondering what you’re doing here.”

  He waited, comfortable in silence. Amazing what people would say to fill the emptiness.

  Her eyes flashed, more gold than green.

  God, I want her. He forced himself to sit still and not cross his legs to bring attention to his growing attraction.

  “You and I have been going back and forth for a long time.”

  “Oh?”

  “You know. Coming in first. Me then you then me.”

  “Then back to me.” He smiled at her frown.

  “So I was thinking we should just get it out of the way.”

  “Get what out of the way? And does this have anything to do with your part in the Trio’s need to get revenge on all of mankind?”

  “Huh?”

  “Dex filled me in on what you girls decided to do about us. You know, what with Ann and Maya trying to get back at Jack and my cousin. I figure you and I have always had issues, so it’s natural to assume you want me groveling.”

  She snorted. “You, groveling? That I’d love to see.”

  He continued, “I’d give you an apology, but I can’t think of what to be sorry for. I’ve never slighted you that I can remember. I’m amazingly skilled at everything I do, but that’s as much a curse as a gift. Being number one comes with a lot of pressures, you know.” Okay, so he was piling it on to needle her. But there was nothing prettier than Riley in a rage.

  She scowled. “You know, smart ass, you didn’t beat me at everything in high school.”

  “No. Just most things.”

  She leaned closer and parted her lips, no doubt to blast him, so he stopped her with a simple question. “Wine?”

  “Huh?”

  “Is that wine for us? Can I help myself to some food? I haven’t had dinner yet. Came straight over from the restaurant.”

  At mention of his place, her mouth firmed. “Yes. Help yourself.”

  Oh, honey, I intend to. He stared at her out of the corner of his eye, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. Touching them, feeling the buds of her nipples between his fingers had been magical. He still couldn’t believe he’d finally done it, or that she’d let him.

  He poured himself a glass of wine and took some cheese and crackers. After a sip, he nodded. “This is good.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” She sounded disgruntled as she poured herself a glass. “What a long day.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I had this one customer who ordered two of the same— Never mind.”

  He squelched his disappointment that she didn’t want to talk to him about work and enjoyed the Sauvignon Blanc.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. Why are you spending so much time with the construction? Shouldn’t you be working spreadsheets and running numbers?”

  “I do those things.” Almost obsessively, according to Dex. “But I also like to be involved from the ground up. I like working with my hands.”

  The pregnant pause after he said that hadn’t been intended, but apparently both of them immediately thought of the party. He saw her nipples bead beneath her shirt, heard her slight intake of breath and felt vindicated that he wasn’t the only one unable to forget about Friday night.

  “Right.” She cleared her throat. “So I asked you to come over because I need closure.”

  “Closure.” He set his wine glass down.

  “Yes. You and I have always had this push and pull thing between us. Half the time I can’t stand you.”

  Stupid to feel hurt by that, but he buried it beneath a raised brow.

  “See?” She pointed at him. “That.”

  “What?”

  “That arrogant pose you put on everything.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There it is again.” She blew out a breath. “Look. I’m tired of you thinking you’re better than me.”

  “I don’t think that.” He honestly didn’t. “Hold on. You’re saying you care what I think?”

  “Yeah. Who knew?” She swore under her breath, and he sat back, flabbergasted. “Thing is, we’ve never actually settled between us who’s number one. Sure, you went off after high school and became a big shot, but I’ve made a success here too.”

  “I know. I work right next door and see the many customers coming and going every day. I’m a bit confused though. When did I ever say I was better than you?”

  “You just said you beat me at nearly everything.”

  “Come on. I was teasing.”

  She stared at him. “We’ve always competed. Heck, growing up, my mom heard nothing but me trying to do better than you.”

  “My parents heard the same.” He chuckled. “Me complaining about that stubborn girl, Riley Hewitt. So what? We’re beyond high school, Riley.”

  Her flush made her that much more attractive. “I know that. It sounds stupid, but like I said, I need closure. It’s a girl thing.”

  He took a long swallow of wine and set the glass back down. “Is that what Friday night was all about?”

  She bit her lower lip while glaring at him. “Hey. You kissed me.”

  “You threw wine on me.”

  “It was an accident. So to punish me, you kissed me?”

  He rubbed his thumb over his lip, enthralled with the way she followed the movement. The air seemed thicker, somehow. The wine lingered in his taste buds, tart yet crisp, reminding him of how good she’d tasted.

  The atmosphere turned carnal between one heartbeat and the next. He was so hard he ached, and he wanted to taste her again.

  “It wasn’t a punishment though, was it?” he asked in a low voice.

  She squirmed. “Kind of.”

  “Is that why you were moaning and moving in my arms? Why
I swallowed down your little scream?”

  “Anson…”

  He loved hearing his name on her lips.

  “You say you want closure.” Go big or go home. “I want more of Friday night.”

  “More?” She moistened her lips, and it was all he could to do hold on to his moan.

  “Tell me what you have in mind, and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.” Easy to tell if she’d look a little lower. His cock made a rigid outline in his jeans.

  “So, um, well, I was thinking we could do something neither of us is good at. Something completely outside sports or cooking or academics. A true test of which of us is better at learning something.”

  “Sex?”

  She blinked and stammered, and he had to fight the urge to kiss her. Hard.

  “W-well. I mean… Sex? I think I’d classify that as a sport.”

  “There is that.” One he excelled in. “Although I’m happy to compete with you in that arena.”

  She seemed to regroup, because she smirked at him. “Honey, there’s no guarantee you’d come in first.”

  “Oh?” Finally. An invitation.

  She held up a hand to stop him when he moved forward. “Somehow I totally lost track of the conversation.”

  The touch of her palm against his chest had them both breathing hard. “Me too.” He wanted to eat her up, starting at her mouth and working his way down. All the way down.

  “Stop. Quit looking at me like that.”

  He sighed and leaned away from her, back against the couch, so aroused it wasn’t funny. “Shit. Okay, so you want closure. What’s in it for me?”

  “Bragging rights.” Before he could answer that, she did for him. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re hot shit. The hospital thinks you’re man of the century. Women and men love you. Blah blah blah.”

  “So you know where I’m coming from.” Every time he thought or said the word “come” he remembered how she’d gotten him off from just the press of her belly against him. Imagine what being inside her would feel like.

  “Right.” She chuckled. “How is it that your arrogance can sometimes be kind of cute?”

  “Cute?” Now he frowned. Cute and nice were the kiss of death.

  “Just hear me out. My plan is that we both compete. Winner gets bragging rights. Loser has to make nice.”