The Sweetest Thing (13 page)

“I have to be honest with you, Dwayne. I still haven’t decided whether or not I plan to sell at all. I have a lot to consider, primarily Quentin and Troy and what they might want. They helped my father build Just Desserts and I have to respect that.”

He nodded. “I understand but I hope you won’t discount my offer completely. Think about it. Talk it over with the guys. See how they feel. And I’d be glad to talk to them both myself if that might help. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this happen, Harper. Plus, I have no doubts you’re missing your family and home and you want to make some decisions soon too.”

She smiled. “I do miss my home but I can’t let that keep me from doing what’s right,” she said.

“Are you married?” he asked. “Is there a man waiting for you back in Louisiana? It is Louisiana, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “It is. Baton Rouge and no, I’m not married.”

Dwayne grinned, his eyes gleaming mischief. “But you have a man, no?”

“I have a man, yes!” she responded, thoughts of Quentin running through her mind. She felt herself smiling and she blushed ever so slightly.

Dwayne’s head bobbed easily. “Lucky bastard,” he chimed. “I hope he’s making you very happy. I would hate it for him if he isn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I might have to sneak in and take his place,” he said with a deep chuckle.

Harper nodded, the man’s teasing expression giving her reason to pause. She shook her head as Dwayne winked an eye at her.

“Thank you for dinner, Dwayne. I appreciate your taking time out of your schedule.”

He nodded as he dropped his napkin onto the table. “Let me walk you to your car,” he said.

Harper shook her head. “I took a taxi actually. I’ll just have the maître d’ call me a ride.”

“Definitely not!” he exclaimed. “What would that look like? I can take you home.”

“Really, that’s not necessary,” she said.

“It is necessary,” he said. Rising to his feet, he pulled out her chair and helped her into her coat. “I am many things, Harper Donovan, but my mother insured I was a gentleman first.”

 

 

Quentin was standing behind the counter when the Aston Martin One-77 pulled up in front of the bakery’s front door. He stopped what he was doing to watch as Dwayne Porter exited the driver’s side and slowly strode to the passenger door to open it. The man extended his hand to help Harper from the seat. The two stood talking for a brief moment and then Dwayne walked her to the bakery door, one hand pressed lightly against her back. After she unlocked the entrance, stepped inside the door, then secured it behind her, he waved good night, moved back to his vehicle, and spun the wheels, pulling back into the late-night traffic. Harper stood in the doorway watching until he pulled out of sight. She jumped when she turned, discovering him standing there in the dark.

“Hey!” she said as she pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat racing. “You scared me!”

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. How was your dinner?”

“It was good. I wish you had come.”

“I wish you hadn’t gone,” he said matter-of-factly. He turned an about-face and moved back into the kitchen.

Harper took a deep breath and blew a heavy sigh as she followed behind him. He moved back to the ovens to check on something he had baking inside. She leaned her back against the stainless-steel door of the walk-in refrigerator. “We really need to talk about it,” she said. “I need to know what you’re feeling.”

Quentin shrugged, refusing to meet her stare as his eyes focused on everything but her face. “I think, Harper, that you need to do what’s right for you. If you want to sell the business to Porter, then sell it. That’s what I’m feeling.”

“But I don’t think you want me to sell it.”

“What I might want isn’t important.”

“It’s important to me,” she said, her arms crossing over her chest. “Very important.”

He tossed her a quick look and she gave him a tentative smile. He nodded. “So, what did you think about Dwayne Porter?”

“He seems like a nice guy. He also seems very invested in growing his business. He’s slick too! I get the impression that he’s used to getting everything he wants.”

Quentin chuckled softly. “He is definitely that. We used to call him Slick Rick back in the day. Brother is as smooth as slime. And he’s spoiled. His parents were very wealthy growing up and his mother gave him everything he wanted. What she didn’t give him, he took.”

“He told me he misses your friendship.”

“You two talked about me?”

“Not really. He just commented that he respects your talent and hopes that you two will be able to get past your differences and be able to work together.”

Quentin paused before he answered. “I don’t see that ever happening. Dwayne can’t be trusted when he’s your friend so he surely can’t be trusted when he’s your enemy.”

“Is he your enemy?” she questioned.

Quentin shook his head. “Dwayne Porter is nothing to me. Not now, not ever.”

Harper inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of the bread still baking in the oven. The warmth of it was comforting and felt very much like home. Closing her eyes she took another deep breath and held it before blowing it out slowly. When she opened her eyes Quentin was watching her, everything about the look he was giving her piercing her heart. He smiled, the beauty of it washing over her.

“How long do you have to be down here tonight?” she asked, her tone hinting at what might come when he was finished.

He blew a heavy breath as his broad shoulders pushed toward the ceiling. “It’s going to be an all-nighter,” he said. “I need to get this order finished. Duncan is coming in at midnight to help so that we can make all the deliveries before six.”

Harper nodded. “Okay. I’ll get out of your way,” she said as she moved toward the rear entrance. Quentin called her name and she hesitated, turning back to face him.

He moved to where she was, stopping in front of her. He drew her into his arms, wrapping himself tightly around her. Harper lifted her face to his and he kissed her, his mouth skating with ease over hers. She felt comfortable in his arms and his body tensed with wanting. Breaking the connection, he leaned his cheek next to hers and whispered into her ear. “Sleep well, baby!” he said before he planted one last kiss against her cheek.

Lifting her eyes to his Harper smiled, wished him a good night, then turned and headed up the back stairs to bed.

 

 

Standing in the kitchen by himself Quentin was surprised by the wealth of emotion that had flooded his spirit. Seeing Harper and Dwayne together had been a bitter pill to swallow and it had taken everything he had not to go out and bust him in his face.

Seeing Harper with Dwayne had revived the green-eyed monster he’d worked for so many years to contain. He’d been jealous and he wanted to trust that he had nothing to be jealous of. Harper wasn’t Rachel and he had no reason to doubt what was growing between them. Harper was the most genuine woman he’d ever met. She had an open, honest spirit and he had never gotten the impression that there was anything about herself that she felt a need to hide. He trusted Harper. He wanted to trust Harper. But he didn’t have an ounce of trust in Dwayne Porter.

As far as Quentin was concerned Dwayne was the proverbial snake in sheep’s clothing. He knew how to work the occupants of any room, playing on people’s weaknesses for his own personal gain. For Dwayne most women were just a means to an end. He didn’t respect women and had no qualms about manipulating them. Pop had often chastised him for his wanton ways, reminding him that he had a mother and a sister and might one day have a daughter of his own. But Dwayne could have cared less, nothing and no one able to move him to do better.

Dwayne’s indiscretions with Rachel had broken Quentin’s heart, the hurt of it lingering for years but his very vocal disrespect and lack of concern for the young woman’s feelings had left a bitter taste in Quentin’s mouth. His old friend saw nothing wrong in his behavior, believing their friendship should have endured, nothing and no woman able to come between them. Quentin had been quick to discover that Dwayne was not the kind of man he wanted to be. Nor was he the kind of friend Quentin was interested in having in his life.

The timer on the ovens interrupted his thoughts and he moved to pull the freshly baked bread from inside. Resting the baking trays onto the counter, he thought about Harper, upstairs, in bed, alone. He could just see her lying atop the mattress in all her glory, her lean legs sprawled open in invitation. Everything about her was perfection, from the way her bottom lip quivered when her excitement was building to how her toes curled when he touched her in all the right places.

He imagined himself taking her on the bed, the floor, the counters; their loving moving from one surface to another. He was anxious to discover her proclivities, to learn what excited her most so that he could exploit them to both their satisfaction. He wanted to taste her and to know what it would feel like to have her mouth on him. He wanted to fall asleep with her and wake up with her and spend every free moment in her presence sharing himself with her. And just as the thought of sneaking upstairs to join her crossed his mind, Duncan came through the back door.

Rachel couldn’t breathe and she fought for air, desperate to fill her lungs with oxygen. Dwayne’s hands tightened around her neck and her body arched in response. She was on her hands and knees and she struggled to keep herself upright as Dwayne slammed himself into her, the length of his dick like a piston plunging in and out of her sweet spot.

The room began to spin, spots dancing across her eyes and then she screamed, her orgasm ripping through her with a vengeance. One hand moved from around her neck into her hair and he twisted the strands between his fingers, jerking her head back against his shoulder. The other hand fondled one breast and then the other as he twisted her nipples hard. Her hands gripped the bedsheets as she gulped for air and her body convulsed with pure, unadulterated pleasure. Dwayne cursed, spewing venom and then she felt him explode, the ferocity of it moving him to slam one last time into her before every muscle in his body quivered from the intensity.

She tightened her own muscles around his organ, intent on milking every ounce of moisture from his body into hers and then he collapsed against her. She lay beneath him, his weight heavy as the heat from his breath blew against her neck. Minutes passed before Dwayne lifted his body from hers, moving onto his feet to stand by the bedside. She turned onto her side to stare up at him and he grinned. Leaning he tangled his hands into her hair a second time and pulled her face to his, kissing her mouth easily. The gentleness of it left her breathless.

Dwayne said nothing as he moved into the bathroom and as she stretched her body against the mattress she could hear him relieving himself into the commode. When the steady stream of water stalled, he called out to her.

“You’ve got to go,” he said, peeking his head back into the room.

Rachel sat upright, pulling the bedsheet up under her chin. “Excuse me?”

“Get a shower if you want but you’ve got to go.”

“I can’t stay the night?” she asked, her tone indignant.

Dwayne moved back in her direction. “You got what you came for, Rachel. Now get the hell out of my bed and go home.”

Anger flashed across her face and Dwayne laughed a second time. Throwing her legs off the side of the bed she snatched her clothes up from the floor, stepping back into her pants and top. “I hate you!” Rachel hissed. “I absolutely despise you!”

Dwayne stood with his hands on his hips, his feet a shoulder’s width apart. His naked body was like that of a dark Greek statue begging for attention. He cupped his testicles and shook the length of himself at her. “You hate me but you love this, ain’t that right? You can’t get enough of this and you want it hard and dirty, don’t you.”

He moved to her side and grabbed her hand, pressing it between his legs. As she wrapped her fingers around the flaccid tissue he pulled her breast from her shirt and locked his lips around the protruding tissue. Rachel gasped, her anger rising as her body blatantly betrayed her. She hated that he was right, hated that he knew her weakness, hated that she wanted him so damn badly. She stroked him as he continued to bite, lick, and lap at the sensitive bud that had swelled full and hard between his lips.

Then as quickly as he’d excited her, he left her hanging. Moving away from her he crawled back into his bed and pulled the covers around his body.

“Close the door behind you,” he said nonchalantly as he reached for the lamp on the nightstand and shut off the lights.

Grabbing for her purse Rachel hurried to the bedroom door, snatching it open. He called her name as the door hit hard against the wall.

“What?” she snapped.

“Make sure Harper gets my message.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“You don’t want to make me mad, Rachel. Make me mad and this might be the last time I scratch that itch you keep coming to me with,” he said as he burst out laughing. His maniacal laughter resounded around the room. Infuriated, Rachel stormed out of his space slamming the front door of his home as she made her exit.

 

 

Quentin and Harper were in the midst of a heated debate behind the counter when Rachel came through the front door of the bakery. Miss Alice was sitting at a table enjoying a cup of warm tea and a slice of toasted lemon pound cake topped with mixed berries. As she made her way to the older woman’s side, Rachel looked from him to her, back and forth, as if she were watching a tennis match.

“Hey, Miss Alice,” she intoned softly.

Miss Alice waved a wrinkled hand. “How you doin’, baby?”

“I’m fine. What’s going on with them two?” she asked, gesturing in Quentin and Harper’s direction.

Miss Alice leaned forward in her seat. She glanced to the table next to them, then over to the party dining in the seats behind Rachel. The gesture was almost conspiratorial and Rachel couldn’t keep herself from leaning in closer as though the other woman intended to whisper a dark secret against her ear.

“Just a little sexual frustration,” Miss Alice said and then she sat back, taking another bite of her cake.

Rachel stared at the woman for a brief moment. Tossing another look toward the couple still deep in conversation she rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit,” she muttered.

Miss Alice laughed. She stared at Rachel hard, something about the young woman seeming different. “What’s going on with you?” she asked. “There’s something different about you. You don’t look like yourself!”

Rachel avoided the other woman’s searching stare. She dragged a finger around the collar of her shirt, pulling at the floral-print scarf she wore.

“Child, what happened to your neck?” Miss Alice questioned. The woman’s tone shifted from teasing to concerned as she reached forward, using both hands to pull the collar of Rachel’s top aside. She gasped at the pattern of dark bruises that decorated the young woman’s skin.

Rachel fanned her hands away. “It’s nothing, Miss Alice. Leave me alone, please. Why are you always messing with me?”

“What’s wrong with her?” Quentin questioned as he suddenly appeared at the table and took a seat beside Miss Alice. He looked from one woman to the other as Harper eased herself into the empty chair at Rachel’s side.

Neither he nor Harper missed the cutting look Miss Alice gave Rachel as the younger woman changed the subject.

“Hey, you two. How’s it going?” Rachel asked, avoiding Miss Alice’s stare.

Harper nodded. “Everything’s good.”

“Well, it would be if Harper wasn’t trying to tell me how to run my business,” Quentin chimed.

Harper smiled. “I guess if you were running your business the way you should be we wouldn’t have a problem, would we?”

“What are you two talking about?” Rachel asked.

“Wedding cakes,” they both chimed at the same time.

Miss Alice laughed. “You two ain’t got no problems if that’s all you can find to fuss about.”

Quentin and Harper both laughed. Rachel didn’t find them amusing. “I’m not here to stay,” she said, her expression frozen in annoyance. “I just stopped by to see if Harper wanted to visit the corporate offices of Home Grown Foods. Dwayne extended an invitation. He thought that if you were able to see the plant and talk to the executives who help run the company you’d feel better about agreeing to the sale.”

Miss Alice suddenly sat forward again, an eyebrow lifted. “Dwayne Porter?”

Rachel pursed her lips as she shot the older woman a heated look. She took a deep breath. “Yes, ma’am,” she answered. “Dwayne Porter.”

“When did that snake crawl back into town?” she questioned, her gaze still locked on Rachel’s face.

When she didn’t answer Miss Alice grunted. “Well,” she mused, “I guess that answers quite a few questions for me, doesn’t it, Rachel?”

The two women locked gazes, Miss Alice’s narrowed stare voicing her concerns and her displeasure. Rachel continued to ignore her, turning to look at Harper.

“The entire tour will probably take two, maybe three hours. If you agree then he would like to schedule it for sometime next week.”

Harper stared across the table. “Only if Quentin agrees to join me.”

He tilted his head, the glee in his eyes dimming ever so slightly.

“Quentin?” Rachel’s eyes were lifted in his direction for an answer.

Miss Alice broke the awkward silence. “Sounds like a good thing for you to do. Harper needs to make a decision and she wants you to help her do that.”

“But Miss Alice,” Quentin started, “I don’t think . . .”

Miss Alice gently patted his arm, stalling his words. “Good lookin’ out!” she said, echoing words Pop had often used. “Good lookin’ out!”

Rachel gave them both a snide smile. “I’ll tell Dwayne to schedule the tour,” she said as she stood back up and headed toward the door.

“Tell him, we’ll call him when we’re ready,” Quentin interjected. “I’m planning to take some time off so we’ll schedule it when we get back.”

Rachel tossed him a look and nodded.

Miss Alice called after her. “Love ain’t supposed to hurt, Rachel!” she said.

Rachel turned and gave the matriarch a hard stare before she responded. “Love doesn’t have anything to do with it, Miss Alice.” And then she turned, moving quickly out the front door.

Miss Alice shook her head from side to side.

“What was that all about?” Quentin asked, concern washing over his face. “Is Rachel okay?”

Miss Alice forced a smile on her face as she tapped his hand. “She’s just dealing with a little sexual frustration,” she said matter-of-factly. “Just a little sexual frustration.”

Both Harper and Quentin looked at her and then at each other, making sure they’d heard the woman correctly. Then both burst out laughing as Miss Alice went back to eating her cake.

 

 

“It’s frustrating!” Harper whined into her computer screen.

Jasmine stared into her own webcam, her head shaking. “I really don’t want to hear about your personal problems,” the woman chimed.

“Some friend you are!”

“I really don’t see what your problem is. Just get you some and be done with it. You two know that’s what you want to do anyway.”

“It’s more than that, Jasmine. I really care about Quentin. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Define ‘care.’”

“He’s incredible and he makes me feel special and . . .”

“And the brother is
hot!
” Jasmine interrupted. “Toss your panties at him, lay across the oven or the stove or wherever it is he spends all his attention and
do
him already!”

Harper laughed. “I thought you told me to wait six months.”

“I told you to wait at least six months before you made any life-altering decisions. This is sex. I’m not telling you to marry the man. I’m telling you to screw his brains out until he can’t take anymore! Get it out of your system.”

Harper gasped. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

“I did and it was necessary to get my point across. In a few months you can decide if he’s worth marrying.”

“He’s definitely worth marrying, Jazz! And he wants to marry me!”

“Oh, no! Do not tell me you two have already gone there.”

“It was casual conversation.”

“Girl, there is nothing casual about talking marriage with a man. Now I know Mama Pearl taught you better than that.”

“Speaking of, how is she really doing? Every time I talk to her she tells me she’s doing fine.”

“Mean as ever. And she’s really missing you so she’s making my life miserable. Now I know why you always had a hard time holding on to a guy and getting you some. Your grandmother has blocked the last two guys I’ve tried to get with.”

“That sounds like my grandmother! She’s going to make sure you do right whether you want to or not.”

“So come home! Give her something else to focus on. It might help you with that little problem you’re having, too. You won’t have to figure out what to do. Mama Pearl will figure it out for you.”

Harper blew a deep sigh. “I’m actually thinking about coming home for a week or two and then I can come back to Memphis.”

“Uh, run that by me again. You’re planning on going back to Memphis?”

“I . . . well . . . it’s . . .” Harper stammered, searching for her words.

Jasmine shook her head and waved a hand in the air. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. If I don’t know I don’t have to lie to Mama Pearl.”

“Like you have never lied to Mama Pearl before!”

Jasmine laughed. “I know, right! But she gets under your skin and then you feel bad. So come home and
stay
so your grandmother can make
you
feel bad instead of me!”

For another hour the two women continued to catch up on each other, and on business, a ton of laughter flooding the conversation. When Harper finally disconnected the call, her homesickness was thick and full, hanging heavy in the air around her. Despite the teasing between her and Jasmine, she did have some major decisions to make and waiting six months wasn’t going to make a difference one way or the other. She just didn’t have a clue what she wanted to do.