Sweet on You (The Wilde Sisters #1) (6 page)

The sun would set in less than an hour and there were bound to be a bazillion drunks on the road, so she quickly changed into her running gear and ran the loop through the residential streets of Saco and through the beautiful old cemetery.

By the time she got home she was tired, hungry, sad, depressed, and extremely confused as she fell into her bed, sweaty clothes and all, and dreamed about the Love of her Life who was not, in fact, gay.

Chapter Four

Rayne

“Oh, honey. You know I love you and I don’t ever beat around the bush, and I’m not gonna start now.” Sage shook her head and sighed. “Give me the polish.”

Rayne leaned down and handed over the bottle of
Heartbreak Hotel Red
and stuck her foot in Sage’s lap. It had become their tradition during their unsuccessful hunt for love. Well, Rayne’s hunt, Sage’s avoidance. The dumpee got a pedicure while the other offered support. Sage preferred Ben & Jerry’s. Rayne, not a big fan of sugar, would cry through a family size bag of extra-nacho cheese Doritos while Thyme would mow through chocolate cake.

She sucked the orange off her fingers. “I’m going to need a manicure too,” she said around another mouthful of chips.

“Damn, I knew this would happen. He sounded too good to be true.”

“That’s why he was gay.”

“He’s not gay, though.”

“I know and that totally sucks. Sage, the man can kiss. Holy shmoly, I would’ve taken him right then, right there. But then he apologized and said he only meant to prove a point…” Rayne hiccupped and let the tears fall.

Sage had heard the story four times already—the price of being the sister of a walked-over romantic—and scowled.

“I haven’t decided if I like him or hate him for pulling back.”

“What? Are you nuts?” Sage pointed the nail polish brush at Rayne. “He worked you over big time, Rayne. Don’t do this to yourself. Cut the ties and be free. He made it clear he wasn’t interested.”

Rayne shook her head. “No, he was being honest. He said he wasn’t interested in a relationship. A romantic one. We’ll continue with our friendship and our adventures. It’s my turn on Wednesday.”

She hoped Trent wouldn’t stop their weekly outings. It had gotten fun trying to one-up the other person’s plans, and she knew she’d win this time.

“Honey, that’s in two days. Do you really believe you’re going to be over this and be able to maintain a friendly relationship? You could barely handle that when you thought he was gay.”

“I know,” she sighed, reaching for her glass of Chablis. “It’s just…I really like him. And maybe this is what I need. A friend. I’m not going into this blind. I know there won’t be a ring at the end of this relationship…well, I hope this relationship never ends. If it’s a true friendship it will go on for years and years.”

“Uh huh,” Sage said skeptically. “And you, what? Are going to throw him a bachelor party when he finally settles down? Be his child’s godmother? Come on, Raynie, you know this is too much. You gotta end this…this…whatever it is you two have.”

Rayne studied her beautiful pedicure and smiled. “No. This time I’m stronger. I’m not following my heart. That, I’ve packed away. I’m following my head and keeping it screwed on straight. I’m friends with a hot guy who sleeps with other women and I don’t care because I’m not looking for a relationship.”

She searched the bottom of the Doritos bag and found nothing but smooshed-up chips. Rayne tipped up the bag and let the crumbs fall into her mouth and down her shirt.

What a freakin’ mess.

***

Trent

Normally he would have called her the night before to confirm the meeting time, but he wasn’t so sure Rayne wanted anything to do with him anymore. She never called or texted him after her abrupt departure on Sunday, and he didn’t think she’d want to continue with their weekly adventures, not after his insensitive rebuff.

Trent stood in his kitchen in his boxers and contemplated his choices—a) Call her and reassure her their friendship is really important to him. b) Leave her alone and never talk with her again. c) Call and apologize for being an ass and tell her that he’d like to take this further. All the way to his bed.

No, Option C couldn’t happen. He knew a quick roll in the hay with Rayne would never be enough. After a few weekends, maybe even a couple months, they’d become bored with each other. Or rather, she’d get bored—he couldn’t imagine growing tired of her—and either find someone else, or ask him for forever and ever. Neither of those options appealed to him.

Yeah, he was a head case.

Running his hands through his bedhead, he contemplated going for a run or letting off some steam in the bakery. His employees were used to him waltzing in on his day off. He glanced at the clock. Eight. The morning rush would be over and he could sulk and pound on dough for a while. Maybe get a head start on the Wilsons’ wedding cake.

Just as he sat down at his kitchen table to sketch out another wedding cake design, the doorbell rang. Frustrated, expecting it to be Katrina—she had no neighborly boundaries—he growled, “Hang on!”

Not wanting to open the door all the way, as she’d see that as an open invitation to his life, he kept the chain on the door and opened it a few inches. “What?”

“Well, aren’t we Mr. Grouchy Pants this morning,” Rayne chirped.

He closed the door, unlatched the chain and swung it open again. “Hey. Yeah, come in.” She was beautiful. Her dark hair was pulled back in her trademark ponytail and she wore a bright blue Dri-fit shirt that somehow made her dark eyes glow. Her fitted pants—spandex? Yoga pants?—whatever they were called, he thanked God for inventing them. He didn’t like feeling like a girl, but the effect she had on him was potent.

“Or should I say Mr. Grouchy Boxers?” she teased.

Trent looked down and swore. Any second now she would see how happy he was to see her.

“Yeah, um, I’m going to go throw on some clothes.” He turned to leave, glancing over his shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere.”

She laughed, making him very grateful his front wasn’t facing her. Yeah, he sure as hell was happy now.

***

Rayne

Rayne took a few minutes to regain her composure. The last thing she’d expected was a nearly naked Trent. She figured he’d make some excuse as to why he had to cancel their date.

No, not date. Adventure. Friends didn’t go on dates.

Trent’s living room didn’t scream
bachelor
but it lacked the intimate knick-knacks most homes had. His mantel was nearly bare except for two framed photographs. One was of an adorable toothless Faith, a drooling, smiling mess, and the other of Claire sandwiched between Trent and Brian, Faith swaddled in her lap.

He didn’t say much about his childhood, only that his mother had abandoned him and Claire at a young age and his father died not long after. Trent had picked up the responsibility around the house and even sacrificed his college dreams to pay for Claire’s schooling. The poor kids.

Although her childhood wasn’t much better. Being the middle child had helped her master the position of peacemaker. Sage, being the oldest, had always been self-centered. That didn’t bother Rayne. She figured it to be an oldest child trait, while Thyme carried the “baby of the family” traits. Sweet, adorable, able to get away with anything…the one everyone loved and took care of. The one who could do no wrong, but also lacked any sense of responsibility.

Sage and Thyme were as opposite as could be, which left Rayne as the middleman, always trying to make everyone happy. Once Sage turned fifteen and was capable of babysitting, their parents would take off for weeks on end, saying how important it was for spouses to have alone time.

Suzie and Neil Wilde were more into each other than their children. The spark between them never dimmed, never grew tiresome. To say the Wilde girls were neglected may be a bit harsh, but that’s how Sage interpreted it. She had a perpetual chip on her shoulder and made the world center around herself. Rayne couldn’t blame her. As the oldest, Sage felt the most rejected.

Their parents expected a lot from her and even though there was only a fifteen-month age difference between each girl, Sage had to grow up fast to make it in the Wilde house. There were times when their parents forgot to pick them up from school—which could be understandable if it happened on rare occasions, but it happened weekly.

Neil provided for his girls, barely. They lived in a two-bedroom ranch style home in the middle of nowhere and were fairly self-sufficient. Rayne’s parents grew herbs, fruits, and vegetables, and raised the meat and milk they consumed from goats, chickens, and even pigs. Not much of red meat fans, the Wildes lived off their farm and rarely got into town. Not that there was much of a town. Parish Farm was a good twenty minutes northwest of Cornish, which wasn’t much more than a general store and post office. During Sage’s wild years, Rayne often covered for her, not that Suzie or Neil noticed when their eldest didn’t make it home on a Friday night. As long as the girls didn’t interfere with the farming or their parents’ life, all was fine in the Wilde home.

Their parents had been—and still were—clueless when it came to parenting. Rayne often found herself defending her parents, chastising her sisters for misbehaving, and trying to instill a touch of family in the house.

Rayne picked up the photograph from Trent’s mantel and smiled. The similarities between brother and sister were so striking they could pass as twins. His eyes were green to her blue, but the shape and brightness shone alike. As did their chiseled cheekbones. How the heck could she have believed Trent played for the other team? Thank God he didn’t, although that made their relationship much more complex.

“Sorry it took me so long. The bakery called with a slight emergency.”

“Oh, I’ll let you go then.” She put the photo back on the mantel and picked up her purse.

“No, no. I took care of it. Just a little mess up with next week’s order. All is good.” He smiled and she resisted the urge to reach out and stroke his freshly shaven face.

The five o’clock shadow, when he had it, made him appear like a rogue, while the clean-shaven face gave him an Abercrombie appearance. Both looks were devastating to her deserted libido.

“You said swimming…is this okay?”

She started with his feet, clad in leather flip-flops, and worked her way up his bare calves—not too hairy, and definitely muscled—to his long swim trunks. Navy blue with a white stripe down the side. Simple and masculine—nothing Hawaiian or flamboyant for this straight guy. Her eyes lingered on his abs. Abs she’d been fortunate enough to see a few minutes ago and would like to see again. And lick. Taste.

Stop that!
Trent Kipson was one hundred percent off limits. For some reason he agreed to go out with her while dating the bimbo model next door, and she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

The t-shirt had seen better days, but it stretched so nicely across his wide shoulders that she didn’t give it another thought.
Yummy.

“Rayne?”

Darn. He caught her staring. But her eyes weren’t done yet.

“Perfect. I mean fine. You look good. Fine. Yeah, I mean, we’re just chilling and may go for a swim and—”

“Hey.” Trent stepped closer and her heart did little flip-flops in her chest.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Pretend he’s gay!
“You okay? We can do this…thing another day.”

“No! I mean…no. I’m fine. Just a little warm. Which is why this outing is going to be so much fun!” Plastering on her fake smile, Rayne grabbed his arm and hauled him out the door before the intimate feel of his apartment caused her to do something ridiculous like blurt out her love for him and tackle him to the floor. Rayne pointed to the canoe tied down to the top of her car. “We’re going canoeing down the Saco River. Ever been?”

“Sort of, but not really. A bunch of buddies of mine got together after high school graduation. Packed a tent, about ten coolers. Nine of them held beer. One had some meat. Needless to say, we didn’t do much canoeing. We camped out, met up with some girls, and…yeah, well. We didn’t really canoe much.”

His cheeks turned red. So deliciously sweet and adorable. Maybe she did have a sweet tooth after all.

***

Trent

She got too much pleasure out of torturing him, that was obvious. With Rayne sitting in the front of the canoe, her tanned and toned back to him, Trent was forced to stare and drool as they paddled down the shallow river. They passed many families and a few rowdy teenagers, but mostly their excursion was mellow. After an hour or so of lust-filled mind wandering, they paddled to a sandy cove.

“I’m hungry, so I bet you’re starved.”

Unfortunately, Rayne pulled a black dress thing over her turquoise bikini and reached down for the cooler.

“I’ve got it. Why don’t you grab the bag?”

“Chauvinist,” she muttered with a smile.

“No, a gentleman.” He winked and hefted the cooler out of the canoe. “Damn, woman. What did you pack in here?”

“I know you have quite the appetite, so I packed a little of everything.”

And by everything, she meant
everything.
Meat-filled subs, pasta salad, potato salad, fruit salad, granola bars, cheese and crackers, hummus, some other sort of healthy-looking stuff…the woman knew the way to a man’s heart. Except she didn’t pack any dessert.