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“Shouldn’t you be working?”
Breath knotted in her chest, Vivian spun around, almost falling on her butt thanks to her four-inch heels and slim pencil skirt.
“Mike,” she said, one hand pressed against her chest to keep her heart from leaping out. “What’re you doing here?”
Having obviously used his key to the back door, her brother stood in the pass-through between the storefront and the kitchen, frowning. Older by three years and their parent’s perfect child, Mike strode behind the counter to look over her shoulder.
“Why are you messing around with that stuff again? More of your dirty cakes and crazy ideas? C’mon, Viv, give it up and focus on the work you’re paid for,” he nagged in that big-brotherly tone that made his disdain for any other work she did clear.
Fingering the fifty in the pocket of her ruffled apron, Vivian debated waving it under his nose. But she knew it was pointless. Like their parents, Mike considered Vivian’s side job to be a silly little hobby, something they hoped she’d give up soon. Preferably before too many people learned of it and made the connection between Little Creek Bakery and its three generations of boring baked goods and The Sweet Spot, with its naughty selection of edible treats.
“Shouldn’t you be dressed like an uptight banker?” she asked, giving his casual jeans and button-down shirt a smirk.
“Shouldn’t you be dressed more, I don’t know, like someone who works in a bakery instead of a forties movie star?”
“You think I’m pretty enough to be a movie star?” Vivian teased, adding a sassy smile to her hair toss because she knew it’d bug him. The only thing more irritating than her brother’s criticism of her side business was his critique of her vintage style.
“I think you’re too much a handful as it is for me to answer a question like that.” As he spoke, Mike went through the bakery case, filling a standard pink cardboard box with a selection of choice cookies, brownies and muffins.
“What are you doing here? I’m pretty sure our parents left me in charge of the bakery while they’re on yet another vacation.” Vivian glanced at the clock to make sure she hadn’t lost time somewhere. “And since I am, shouldn’t you be bossing your tellers around at the bank instead of bugging me?”
“Shouldn’t you be closing out the cash register and prepping for tonight’s baking instead of playing on your computer?”
“Playing?” Vivian made a show of tapping one crimson fingernail on her iPad, opened it to her website and flipped through a few more cake images. “The register is already closed out, so whatever you’re taking there will have to be paid with exact change.”
“Cute,” he said, closing the box. “Here,” he said, waving a piece of paper. “I brought you a special order. Desserts for the class-reunion welcome reception.”
Vivian looked at the order and congratulated herself for holding back a sigh. Booooring, she thought, running one long nail down the list.
Simple vanilla cookies. Plain frosted cupcakes. Six-dozen standard petit fours. Yawn, yawn, yawn. And one three-tier cake in the high school colors, complete with a sugar photo of the school mascot, a roaring panther.
“You know, I could make the entire cake in the image of the panther,” she suggested. “Dress him up just like the mascot, complete with a Pikes Peak High pennant.”
“Stick with the sugar photo.” He started writing up a list of what he’d boxed, then pulled out his wallet. “I’ll pick it all up on Sunday afternoon, save you the delivery.”
“Sunday? You’re only giving me three days warning? I have other orders, Mike. A Saturday wedding, four birthday cakes and a croquembouche for Mrs. Fiore’s daughter’s shower. With the parents gone, I’m the only baker here.”
“You can handle it. Bring in more counter help if you have to,” he said with a shrug, handing her a ten and four ones.
“What? You’re not helping? I have to make this entire boring, cookie-cutter order by myself?” She glanced over it again. There wasn’t a sparkle of edible glitter or even a shiny cherry anywhere to be found.
“Use your imagination,” Mike said, giving her an encouraging look. “Pretend it’s fun.”
Vivian knew there was no doubt they were related. The Harris genes bred too strong, with their flaxen hair—although Vivian’s was a shoulder-length sweep fashioned in the classic forties style. Their huge brown eyes—but Vivian made sure hers looked even larger with heavy black liner that accented her lush lashes. And their tall, broad-shouldered build—Vivian’s being a lot more feminine than her former-football-playing brother and complete with generous curves.
But she’d long ago accepted that they were only similar in looks.
“You’re in charge of the bakery, you figure it out. I’ll be busy celebrating having all my pals home.”
All his pals?
A thrill of delight shot through her.
“The Bennett brothers are coming home?”
“Yep, Xander and Zane should be here—” Mike looked at his watch and grinned “—within the hour.”
“Both of them?” At her brother’s scowl, Vivian made a show of sweeping her long blond bangs away from her face and giving him a wide-eyed look of concern. “Are you sure Little Creek can handle an invasion by the Bad Boy Bennetts?”
“Probably not,” Mike replied with a laugh. “Luckily they’re only here for ten days. Other than breaking a few hearts, I don’t think they can do much damage with so little time.”
“Last time they were only home a week and they got into a huge bar fight after you challenged them to see who could drink the most shots. They broke the table at the diner arm wrestling and, if rumor is correct, they were seen streaking down Main Street at three in the morning as part of some insane decathlon.” Oh, how she’d wept over missing that sight.
“Nah, the streaking was just a rumor. But the rest is true.” Mike’s grin widened. “I’m going to have to do some serious thinking if I’m going to top all of those challenges.”
Vivian had a few challenges she wouldn’t mind offering Zane. Talk about a dream worth living—if only for ten days.
Her fingers tapping a beat over the boring order form, Vivian gave herself a minute to delve into her favorite fantasy. The one that starred her and Zane Bennett covered in nothing but chocolate frosting and a few tempting dollops of whipped cream.
Maybe it was time to try out a few of those coaching lessons on something other than business. After all, if she could make a glistening penis-shaped cake worthy of oohs and aahs, how hard could it be to get her hands on Zane Bennett’s real one?
Vivian flashed a wicked smile.
Hopefully, once she got her hands on it it’d be very, very hard.
3
WONDERING IF A person could go stir-crazy in less than eight hours, Zane parked his Harley in front of Myer’s Pub. Tugging off the helmet, he automatically checked the vicinity.
It looked pretty much like it had all his life.
The buildings, businesses and signs were the same. He recognized a number of the cars parked along the street, along with quite a few of the dozen people going about their business. The bakery across from the pub had a new striped awning, but that appeared to be about it for changes.
He’d spent the afternoon visiting family, and now he was ready to see friends. That ought to liven things up a little, Zane decided as he strode into the bar. One of the reasons he always opted to stay with his bud Lenny instead of at the family home was the freedom to enjoy whatever fun he found here at Myer’s.
He was ready for some fun.
He was also early.
No problem. He was sure he’d find plenty to entertain him until the old gang arrived. Lansky’s advice ringing in his ears, he scoped out the action. The bartender was familiar, but not in a did-I-do-her kind of way.
“Quinn? Quinn Oswald, right?” He recognized the slim brunette from high school. They hadn’t run in the same circles, but everyone who attended Pikes Peak High recognized their Princess. And clearly, the years were kind to royalty. With her dark hair waving around a pretty face, Quinn made a black tank and jeans look damned good. “I didn’t realize you’d moved back to town.”
“There’s no place like home,” Quinn quipped with a flash of a smile. “After all, where else does a girl have a chance to award both of the Bennett brothers the honor of being Pikes Peak High’s most valuable graduates?”
“You’re handing out the award, huh? Guess that’s one way to get us up on stage.”
“You don’t seem thrilled.”
Thrilled at the idea of getting up on stage to receive an award he didn’t want for classified work he did in a job he preferred no recognition for?
Obviously seeing the reluctance on his face, Quinn leaned across the bar to offer in a husky voice, “I’ll be presenting it in a very sexy little dress, if that helps.”
“I can’t think of much a sexy little dress doesn’t help,” Zane said, grinning as he leaned on the counter and gave her a once-over. “Are you handing out hugs and kisses with that award?”
“I could be,” she teased. Before she could say more, the other bartender, a hulking blond with a nearly invisible goatee harrumphed and gave her a get-back-to-work look.
Quinn rolled her eyes at the guy’s back, but did put the flirting away to give Zane a cheerful smile.
“In the meantime, what can I get you to drink?”
“Negra Modelo.” Looking around, he pointed toward the prime spot in the back next to the pool table. “Make it two. And a pitcher of Bud.”
“You’re that thirsty?” Then her big blue eyes widened. “Or is your brother joining you?”
“You look worried,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t be. I’ll keep him in line.”
“But who’s going to keep you in line?” she teased, handing him the first of the two beers to take with him.
“Why ask the impossible?” he shot back with a wink, tucking a five into the oversized glass mug next to the register.
Zane made his way to the table in a flurry of greetings, a few backslaps and one intriguing offer from a woman he remembered as having amazing flexibility. A scowling redhead walking out of the back room caught his attention as he slid into the chair facing the doors.
“Hey there, Dianne,” he greeted the bar owner, noting the older woman was looking as badass as ever with that narrow-eyed expression of warning. “How’s it going?”
“Well, well, if it isn’t one of the Bad Bennett Brothers,” she returned with sharp smile, casting a cautious look over the crowd. Scouting for troublemakers, he figured. “I heard you boys would be in town. I figured you’d hit my place.”
“Nowhere better to go for a good time.”
“Where’s Xander?”
“How do you know I’m not Xander?” he said with a wink.
“First, you’ve got that scruffy thing going on, and everyone knows that Zane hates to shave and does so as little as possible when he’s on leave.” She ticked one finger in the air. “Second, of the two of you, Xander’s the gentleman.”
He was? Zane arched one brow. What the hell did that make him?
“And third, of the two of you, Xander watches patiently while Zane always looks like he’s about to pounce.” Three fingers in the air, she paused to give him a wide-eyed smirk. “Well?”
“Well,” Zane said, folding his hands behind his head as he leaned the chair back to rest on the rear legs, “I think it’s safe to say that we’ve lost our mystique around these parts.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Dianne patted his shoulders. “There’s plenty of mystery left. Enough to intrigue any number of women in town. I’m sure there’ll be a long line of them thrilled to enjoy some of that mystery you spread around. Just don’t be starting fights in my bar.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured as she walked away.
Tipping back his beer, he pondered his lack of enthusiasm over spreading mystery. He liked—no, actually he loved—exchanging orgasms with all manner of single ladies. Tall ones, short ones, sassy ones, intense ones. His only hard-and-fast rule other than their being single was to keep the exchanges to one night—or in extreme circumstances, maybe an entire weekend.
But there was something about the idea of women lining up, just waiting. Where was the thrill in that?
He sucked down the rest of his beer, wishing it’d wash away the taste of dissatisfaction.
“Bennett!”
“Harris,” Zane greeted, shoving to his feet to wrap one arm around the other man’s shoulder and giving him a thump on the back. “Check you out. Mr. Big Shot bank manager, Little League coach and, what did I hear? You’re running for the city council?”
“You forgot head of the reunion committee,” Mike said, dimples flashing as he grinned. “Dude, you really should think about stepping it up and doing something for your community.”
“You really should think about kissing his butt,” injected Kyle Daley as he joined them. “Like a SEAL needs your advice on anything besides how to pick out a tie?”
“The only advice you have is how to look pretty,” Mike shot back as Zane greeted Kyle with the same back-thumping hello.
“Yo, Zane,” Joe Beck called out as he wove his way through the thickening crowd. “About time you came back to entertain us.”
“Where’s Xander?” Kyle asked, grabbing a chair with one hand, gesturing for a beer with the other.
“He’ll be here. What about Lenny?” Zane wondered, looking around for the last member of the group of guys he and Xander had run with since grade school. “I thought he was joining us.”
“He’ll be here. He got stuck working the afternoon shift at the gas station.”
“What happened to his job at the power plant?”
“Lost it.” Joe grimaced as he pulled up his own chair. “His old lady kicked him out, too. He’s renting that apartment over the bakery, trying to get back on his feet.”
“Over the bakery? I thought your sister lived up there.” Zane shot a look at Mike, whose parents owned the bakery.
“She does, but there are two apartments up there.” Mike shrugged. “This way Lenny’s got a place he can afford and Viv isn’t on her own.”
“Still playing overprotective big brother? Aren’t you worried about letting a dog like Len loose around your baby sister?”
The three men laughed, Mike’s sounding a little forced.
“Lenny’s scared of Vivian,” Kyle explained. Before he could elaborate, Zane’s brother sauntered into the pub. As the others called out greetings, Zane eyed his twin.
Yeah, he could see why Dianne claimed Xander was a gentleman. Nobody would mistake them for brothers, but while Xander looked just as capable of kicking serious ass, he was approachable. And approach they did, especially the women.
Relaxing now that his back was covered, Zane started on his second beer and prepared to have a good time. Life was always good when Xander was around.
An hour and two pitchers of beer later, the six of them had commandeered the pool table. Par for the course, the insults were flying right along with the laughter.
“Whew, I’d like to take her out,” Lenny said, watching a stacked blonde saunter past them toward the ladies’ room. “She’s turned me down four times, though. But she’s giving you the do-me look, Xander. You gonna go for it?”
Xander glanced over, noted the hot inspection the blonde was giving him and the invitation in her eyes, then turned back to the pool table.
“Nope. Zane went out with her a few years ago.”
“So?”
“Bennett brothers don’t share,” Joe reminded the others. “Remember? Any chick one of them does—dates, I mean,” he corrected at Xander’s arch look, “is on the other’s do-not-touch list.”
“Is that why the two of you live on opposite coasts? To keep the field clear for the other?”
“No. It’s so we can spread the joy of the Bennett brothers around. Our little favor to womankind,” Zane joked.
“Methinks it’s challenge time,” Kyle said, draining his fourth beer and reaching for the pitcher.
“Haven’t you grown up yet?” Xander asked, his attention on the table as he executed a wicked bank shot.
“C’mon, it’s tradition.”
“He’s got a point,” Kyle remarked from his position at the table, feet propped on an empty chair as he waited to play the winner. “We’ve been issuing challenges since second grade when Joe dared the two of you to jump off the dugout to see who could land closest to the pitcher’s mound.”
“Or Mike’s cookie challenge. The one where Xander beat you by eating four-dozen snickerdoodles.”
“Four dozen and two,” Xander corrected from the pool table. “Zane upchucked at forty-nine.”
“Drag racing on Old March Road.”
“Who could catch the most bass when we camped at Adobe Creek.”
“Who could get the most applause singing ‘Living on a Prayer’ in the cafeteria.”
Zane exchanged an eye roll with his brother, amused at the replay of some of their stupider dares over the years. The raw-egg one had definitely been vile.
“I think we’ve outgrown being dumbasses,” Zane decided, getting to his feet as Xander made his last shot to win the game.
“We can’t have a reunion without a challenge,” Mike objected.
“And I’ve got the perfect one,” Joe claimed, returning to the table with another pitcher of beer and a grin. “Remember the girl everyone wanted to date in school?”
“No,” Zane said. He’d dated pretty much all the girls he wanted. Then he saw Xander’s gaze shift toward the bar. Following it, he frowned. “You mean the Princess?”
“Yep, the Princess. Quinn Oswald was the finest girl in our class. Nobody here scored with her then, and nobody’s scored with her since she moved back to Little Creek.” From Joe’s expression that wasn’t for lack of trying on his part.
Tension shot off Xander like bullets from a gun. Nothing pissed him off more than seeing someone disrespecting a lady.
“We don’t bet on sex,” Zane said, laying one hand on Xander’s arm before he could throw the punch his scowl promised was coming.
“Not sex,” Joe said, backing up with his hands in the air. “A date. Just a date.”
“To the reunion dance,” Kyle added. “Last night of the event, everyone’s wearing clothes. Nothing rude about that, right? It’ll be like prom night all over again.”
If Zane recalled, there had been a lot of not wearing clothes on prom night. But maybe that’d just been him and Cait Carson.
“Just a date?” Xander asked in a chill tone, despite the tension Zane still felt shooting off him.
“A date with Quinn Oswald to the reunion dance. Let’s make it easy on her and keep the choice between the two of you.” Mike looked from Xander to Zane and back again. “Challenge issued.”
The brothers’ eyes met.
There was something in Xander’s that Zane couldn’t read. He hesitated, but didn’t ask. Not here in front of everyone.
“It’s better than raw eggs,” he pointed out instead.
“Yeah.” Brow creased, Xander looked across the room at Quinn again. “Sure. Why not.”
“Challenge accepted,” Zane said after a second, his eyes still on his brother’s face. Something was definitely up. But he knew he wouldn’t get anything out of Xander that Xander didn’t want to share.
Zane grinned. He’d make him share later.
For now, he had a pool game to win.
And win he did, playing all comers over the next hour. He’d just accepted Lenny’s tequila challenge, and the offer of the guy’s couch since it meant Zane only had to walk across the street instead of driving, when Kyle sidled up next to him.
“Dude, Xander is getting a step up on you,” Kyle muttered, adding an elbow to the ribs as emphasis.
Zane glanced over to see his brother at the bar with the Princess and shrugged.
“There’s plenty of time,” he said, grabbing his shot glass and toasting Lenny. “And fair’s fair. Xander got there first, it’s his shot.”
Zane was drinking his.
But Zane’s thoughts weren’t on the challenge, the reunion or even sexy princesses when he walked out of the bar. Not at closing, as he’d figured, but at half-past ten. Because, apparently, everyone had to work in the morning.
What the hell?
Wondering when they’d all gotten so old, he turned into the alley between the bakery and the coffee shop, heading for the stairs that led to Lenny’s place.
And rammed into a wall.
A tall, blond, curvaceous wall that cussed like a sailor when her feet went flying out from beneath her.
“Sorry,” he muttered, making a grab and catching only fabric. He snagged her arm at the last second, holding her there, teetering on high heels.
Whoa.
His smile spread wide and wicked at the sight of the gorgeous blonde. She looked like a forties movie star with her side-swept bangs, sloe eyes and Cupid’s-bow lips. She didn’t look happy, though.
Probably because he’d ripped her blouse, leaving her standing in a body-skimming black skirt that hit her shapely knees, stiletto heels and, if the dangling fabric was any indication, a lace demi-cup bra.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
4
“WHAT THE HELL?” Vivian cursed, yanking herself free from the jerk that’d rammed into her.
One arm pinwheeled as she tried to keep her balance, the other clutching the box of her latest creations close to her chest. For one second, she thought she had a chance as the stiletto heel of her sandal found cement.
But she was no match for gravity.
She hit the ground.
The box hit the air.
It rained chocolate. Freshly molded confections flew high in the air before gravity brought them down, too. Squealing, Vivian threw out her hands, trying to catch as many as she could from her prone position.
“Don’t let them—” she huffed “—hit the ground.”
Groaning as they did just that, Vivian dropped three pieces she’d rescued into her lap, then shoved at the hair curtaining her face. The better to glare as she cursed the man who’d knocked her on her ass.
That was when she got a good look at him.
Oh.
Vivian’s breath caught in her chest. She was pretty sure there was some surprise mixed in there, but mostly what was running through her system was pure lust.
“Zane? Zane Bennett?”
“Damn, sorry about that.”
He didn’t sound sorry, though.
He didn’t look it, either.
He looked sexy. So, so sexy.
Those dark eyes, the chiseled jaw and, oh, baby, that bad-boy smile of his. It was enough to melt what was left of Vivian’s chocolate.
“Hi,” she breathed as he helped her to her feet. Realizing she sounded—and probably looked—like a wide-eyed groupie, she cleared her throat and found her pride. “It’s great to see you again.”
“Do we know each other?” he asked, his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to remember where from. Vivian bit her lip instead of answering. She didn’t want him seeing her as Mike’s little sister. Something about that designation had always seemed to make her invisible in the past.
And invisible was the last thing she wanted to be around Zane.
So she took a deep breath, thrust out her breasts and offered her sexiest smile.
“We’ve never actually been introduced,” she said truthfully. “But everyone in town knows who the Bennett brothers are.”
“Is that so?” he murmured, his voice dropping one sexy decibel.
“That’s so.” Vivian cocked her hip to one side and lifted one hand to tick them off, one by one. “The Bennett brothers facts. Twins. SEALs. Football heroes reputed to have scored even more off the field than on.”
His grin widened.
“The Bennett brothers can never refuse a dare, never back down from a challenge. Xander holds the Little Creek RBI record, but you, Zane, won three pink slips racing your Chevelle on Old Marsh Road. Nobody has ever broken your doughnut-eating record, but one of this year’s graduates got within touching distance of taking Xander’s role as chug-a-lug champ.”
“As always, our reputation precedes us.” His laugh faded into a wince as he looked at the mess at their feet. “I’ve got to say, this is the first time I’ve plowed into a gorgeous woman so hard that she lost her...” He glanced down again with a frown. “Is that candy?”