One night. Two SEAL brothers. Endless sexy possibilities!

All Out by Tawny Weber

Navy SEAL Zane Bennett can’t walk away from a challenge. He’s determined to win a bet with his brother—until he collides with the luscious Vivian Harris. Their attraction is immediate and searingly hot, but Zane can’t bring himself to bow out of the bet. Now the game is really on...and Zane is embroiled in a wicked matchup he can’t resist!

All In by Beth Andrews

Of the Bad Boy Bennett twins, Navy SEAL Xander is always the gentleman. That is, until he’s challenged to go against his brother for a date with Quinn Oswald—the girl Xander’s wanted since high school! It takes only one kiss for Quinn and Xander’s deliciously sexy chemistry to explode. But how much is Xander willing to gamble...before he goes all in?

Praise for Tawny Weber

“Tawny Weber has a gift when it comes to writing about hot SEALs and the woman they fall for.”

—Lush Book Reviews

“Fiery hot sex scenes, strong characters and exciting action make this one of the best stories in the Uniformly Hot! miniseries—and one of the best Blaze reads.”

—RT Book Reviews on A SEAL’s Seduction

“Tawny Weber’s characters generate enough heat to melt the polar ice cap! I double dare you to pick up this book.”

—New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson on Double Dare

Praise for Beth Andrews

“Ms. Andrews can take any storyline and make it unforgettable. Her characters are so strong and powerful and unique.”

—Fresh Fiction

“Beth Andrews goes on my list of auto-buy series romance authors. I liked the story, I liked the characters and hours after I had closed the book, they were still on my mind. That’s a good read in my opinion.”

—All About Romance on A Not-So-Perfect Past

“Readers can always count on Beth Andrews to spin an emphatic tale with a loving HEA.”

—CataRomance

About the Authors

TAWNY WEBER is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than forty books. She writes sassy, emotional romances with a dash of humor and believes that it all comes down to heroes. In fact, she’s made her career writing about heroes, most notably her popular Navy SEALs series. Visit her on the web at tawnyweber.com. You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Goodreads.

When not writing, Romance Writers of America RITA® Award–winner BETH ANDREWS can often be found cheering on the Pittsburgh Penguins hockey team, scrolling through Instagram or reading a good book with a happy ending. Learn more about Beth and her books by visiting her website, bethandrews.net. She loves to hear from readers! You will also find her on Facebook and Twitter.

One Night with a SEAL

All Out

Tawny Weber

All In

Beth Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Authors

Title Page

All Out

Dear Reader

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

All In

Dear Reader

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Extract

Copyright

All Out

Tawny Weber

Dear Reader,

I’m excited about All Out for a few reasons. First, Vivian and Zane were so fun to write. Sexy and challenging, they’re both all about pushing themselves to get the most out of life. As a SEAL, Zane is one of the best—a fact that Vivian is thrilled to enjoy.

Another reason I’m excited about All Out is that this two-in-one was written with an author I admire so much, my best friend Beth Andrews. We had a great time going back and forth in the creation of these sexy twin Bennett brothers and their hot love stories.

As I finish writing my thirtieth story for Blaze, I can’t believe it’s been ten years since my very first book, Double Dare, was published by Harlequin! I’ve loved sharing my stories with all of you awesome Blaze readers and hope you’ve loved reading them just as much. Blaze is filled with fabulous stories, amazing authors and a great team at Harlequin, and while I’m so sad to say goodbye, I am excited to share All Out with you.

As I say goodbye, though, I’m thrilled to be saying hello to HQN Books. My SEAL Brotherhood trilogy consists of Call to Honor, Call to Engage and Call to Redemption. These stories have the same hot, sexy feel as my Blazes, but are bigger and filled with more emotional depth and intensity. I hope you’ll check them out. I hope, too, that you’ll subscribe to my newsletter at tawnyweber.com/register to hear about more new releases, great story news and to stay in touch.

Happy reading!

Tawny Weber

To everyone at Blaze, those who read the books, write the books and produce the books.

Thank you for the wonderful journey.

1

“HASTA LA VISTA, BABY.”

Sweat dripping into his eyes, Zane Bennett narrowed them enough to glare at the guy shimmying past him on the rope. He couldn’t tell from behind who it was, but it didn’t matter. The other man was breaking away, getting ahead.

Losing was one thing that Zane personally detested but had learned to accept when competing with fellow SEALs. After all, they were the best.

But losing to a sore winner?

Damned if that was okay.

Zane dug deep for more power. Ignoring his screaming muscles, he kicked it up from high gear to the unsustainable but kick-ass superhigh gear. Palms burning, biceps quivering, shoulders rippling, he yanked himself up his rope in three quick pulls. Rather than vaulting the wall at the top, he flipped over it, landing on the other side, double-timing it through the rest of the obstacle course to take the lead. He kept it through the three-mile run back to base, where he crossed the unofficial finish line and dropped into the sand to huff for air.

Even at eight in the morning, he was glad for the cap that shaded his eyes from the Southern California sun as it poured its hot rays over his already sweating body.

“Nice job.” The congratulations were accompanied by a slap to the back that would have felled a lesser man.

“Hey, Lansky,” he greeted without bothering to look back at his senior officer. “How’s it going?”

Lieutenant Jared Lansky was a SEAL and member of Poseidon, a twelve-man team deemed the elite even among the SEAL Brotherhood. A team Zane would have been breaking his ass to join if not for the fact that it was exclusive to men who’d graduated BUD/S together, all of them focused on building their reps since they’d left Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training with their SEAL tridents.

“Dude, why are you doing PT?” Shaking his head as if Zane had dropped a screw or two on the run, Lansky gave Zane his patented WTF look. “I thought you were on leave.”

Leave.

Yeah. Two weeks without training. Two weeks without heart-pounding, muscle-building, ligament-tearing workouts. No competition, no shooting range, no testing his skills.

“My plane doesn’t leave until noon.” His arms resting on bended knees, Zane flicked the sand off his boots. “I figured I’d get in one last sweaty round before heading for Colorado.”

“You don’t sound thrilled. Problems at home?”

“Problems?” Zane laughed. His mother wouldn’t allow problems. “Nah. Home is good. Really good. Two weeks of sleeping as late as I want, not shaving, eating mom’s cooking? Good times, man. Time with my family, hanging out with the twin, chilling with my buds. All good.”

“That’s three goods. In my experience, three goods equals bad.” Jared threw up a hand before Zane could reply. “We’ll get back to that. First, the twin?”

“My brother, Xander.” Actually, thinking about seeing Xander again made the prospect of home a lot more interesting. Seeing any of his family was okay, but everything was always better when Xander was around.

“Identical?”

“Fraternal.” He considered for a second, then shrugged. “But we look enough alike to pass for brothers.”

“Do you have that twin mystique?” At Zane’s questioning look, Jared explained, “You know, you do things alike. Think alike. Finish each other’s sentences. Twin things.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Zane objected. Others said it a lot, but he really didn’t see it himself. He doubted his brother did, either. They were themselves, not two halves of one person.

“What’s your brother do?”

“He’s an engineer. In the Navy.” Zane slid a sidelong look and smiled. “And a SEAL.”

“No shit?” Laughing in delight, Jared gave him a swift slap on the shoulder. “That’s awesome. Twin SEALs. Where’s he stationed?”

“Virginia.”

“The two of you ever serve together?”

“Nope. I enlisted the day after we turned eighteen. He went the Annapolis route after graduating high school. My focus was explosive ordinance, his was engineering.”

“Is he the reason you blew through OTC like there was a tiger on your ass?”

“Nope.” He had gotten his bachelor’s degree and went through officer training in the shortest amount of time possible, but it had nothing to do with keeping up with Xander. “I simply wanted to beat Cole Hanes. I pretty much forgot about the guy after we went our separate ways when I kicked his butt in BUD/s. Word got back to me that he was talking smack about me. That once he made officer, he’d prove once and for all who was the better SEAL.”

“So rather than accepting that nothing could take away from graduating top of your BUD/s class, you busted ass, tripled your workload to get your degree then plowed through OTC in record time all because some idiot was trying to make himself look good?” Lansky slanted him that WTF expression again. “Why?”

“He challenged me.” Zane shrugged. “A challenge is just a fancy-ass dare, isn’t it? And only a wimp walks away from a dare.”

“True that,” Lansky agreed, his boyish looks contemplative as he stared out at the ocean. They sat in silence for a few seconds, then he sighed.

“We’re hard-wired to compete. To push, to be strong, to be the best. That’s why we are the best.” He waited for Zane’s grin before continuing, “But sooner or later, you realize that the only person you have to prove anything to is yourself. Once you’re comfortable with that, you can pick and choose the dares you care about. Makes life easier.”

Zane nodded. He got that, he really did. But...

“‘The only easy day was yesterday,’” he quoted the oft-used SEAL phrase.

“There you go.” Lansky gave a rueful laugh. “I suppose that’s why going home is so good that you say it three times? Because you’re worried you’ll lose your edge?”

“Please, my edge is permanent,” Zane said dismissively. “It was carefully and strategically honed in the deceptively picturesque town of Little Creek, Colorado. A place where everybody knows everybody else and minding the neighbors’ business is a way of life.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Zane acknowledged. “Which is why we started issuing challenges. Dares, if you will. For the craziest crap. Who could jump farthest off the high school gym roof? Who could eat the most little green apples before competing in the track meet? Who looked best in a dress and heels?”

“Beg pardon?” Lansky interrupted, with a raised eyebrow.

“Halloween, junior year of high school,” Zane explained before continuing his recital of various dares and challenges. “And every trip home, it continues.”

“Is that the cause for all those goods? You want to avoid the dares-slash-challenges?” Lansky gave him a pitying head shake. “Way to represent the team, Bennett.”

“Once you’ve rappelled out of a helicopter into the Atlantic during a storm while a gang of Somali pirates are shooting at you, being challenged to chug-a-lug a dozen Big Gulp slushies just isn’t the same.”

Although the brain-freeze threat was a hazard that couldn’t be dismissed.

“So don’t play.”

“Yeah, right.” Zane laughed. “Like you said, we’re hardwired to compete. I can’t walk away from a challenge. Ever.”

“You might want to work on that.”

“Might.”

But probably not on this trip. This trip would come with plenty of challenges. He was heading back for a high school reunion and the gang would be all there. But after ten years, most of the guys he’d gone to school with were settled down. Living the nine-to-five life with wives and, in some cases, kids even.

Talk about challenges. How the hell did they do that? It was the complete opposite of his motto: No Ties, No Lies.

“You ever worry that we live so far over the edge that we aren’t suited to, you know, regular life?”

“You said it yourself. We’re not meant for regular life, Bennett. But like picking and choosing our challenges, we have to learn to decompress from time to time or we’ll burn out.” Lansky’s voice tightened, his eyes locked on the churning waves as if searching for some answer only the ocean could offer. “You know as well as I do that the body needs time between workouts for the muscle fibers to mend. If you want to stay sharp and last the duration, you take advantage of those valleys between each peak.”

“Peaks and valleys, huh?”

“Yep.” With that and another slap to the back, Lansky got to his feet. “You can always try my tried-and-true method of resting.”

“Chasing women?”

“Works every time,” Lansky shot back with a laugh before sauntering across the sand to join the other men.

Zane stayed where he was. After all, he wasn’t on duty. He was heading for that valley called home.

He’d just have to find something interesting to keep his senses alert, his skills challenged and his body honed.

Maybe Lansky had it right.

Maybe he’d have to find himself a woman.

2

“WOW. NOW, THAT’S a penis.”

Humming as she gave said penis a careful inspection, Vivian Harris finally straightened and offered a satisfied smile.

“It does look good, doesn’t it?” Noting it was a smidge uneven, she sprinkled a hint more glitter on the right side to bring out the curve. “I think it might be my best work yet.”

“Absolutely, amazingly edible,” Minna Karter said, her brown eyes as round as her glasses. When she wet her lips, looking as if she wanted to kneel down and give it a good lick, Vivian quickly grabbed a hot pink lid and fitted it in place.

“Your favorite triple-chocolate fudge cake layered with Bavarian cream and covered in modeling chocolate.” Vivian put a snappy black bow on the box, adding the darling bakery sticker she’d printed on her inkjet claiming the confection was made with love at The Sweet Spot. “Guaranteed to keep your bridal shower guests happy.”

“They’re going to love it, Viv. I am blown away at how great this looks. I’ll bet nobody’s ever seen one this gorgeous.”

“A cake, or a penis?”

“Tough choice,” Minna said, laughing, “but I meant the cake. You’re really rocking this new sideline of yours. I mean, I’d have ordered a cake from Little Creek Bakery no matter what, since it’s your family’s. But...”

“But they only make regular, boring, round—or if they’re really wild, square—cakes here,” Vivian agreed with a nod. “I’ve been asking them for years to branch out, to widen the offerings, but noooo.”

She rolled her eyes at her family’s narrow-minded refusal.

“Which would be why I’m picking this up after-hours when nobody else is around?”

“It wouldn’t have been a big deal.” At Minna’s pointed stare, Vivian admitted, “My parents are out of town for the week so I’m in charge of the bakery. I was able to bake and decorate it here instead of at home.”

“You’d think they’d be a little more open to expanding their offerings.”

“Not everyone likes the idea of their only daughter molding phallic symbols out of cake.”

“You do more than that,” Minna objected. “You made that pair of songbirds for Lana’s birthday, you did the mermaid for Josie’s daughter, and you even did that Harley for your brother’s birthday. Never mind all the other cakes and confections you’re selling off your website.”

Minna shook a chastising finger before Vivian could shrug that off—and since by her calculations, she wasn’t yet earning half what she’d need to support herself, it really was shrugworthy.

“You’re living the dream, remember,” Minna reminded her in fervent tones.

Vivian had discovered a series of books called Living the Dream! written by Lola Bean. They focused on arranging wishes, hopes and goals into definable dreams and had inspired her like crazy. She’d read all of the books, then worked through the quizzes, study guides and questionnaires, narrowing down random ideas and what ifs into actual life goals built on a dream that touched her heart.

Vivian considered herself an artist. One who honored sexuality and the human form. But she couldn’t draw or paint, and try as she might, she couldn’t write a decent story. So, through Lola’s first course, “Finding the Dream that Makes You Sing,” she’d combined her two talents, sensual art and baking, and created The Sweet Spot.

As Lola so often said, with the power of that much emotion behind her dreams, how could she fail to build her dream life? And she was right. It’d given Vivian focus for the first time in twenty-four years. A sense of empowerment and excitement over building her dream career.

What it hadn’t done was actually give her that career.

Yet.

Vivian wasn’t giving up, though.

After reading through the entire booklist, joining Lola’s newsletter and finding her on social media, Vivian had been thrilled when the woman had opened group coaching. She’d convinced Minna, their friend Lisa and Lisa’s sister, Corinne, to do the coaching with her and, wow, talk about results.

Thanks to Lola’s advice, after six years of dating, Minna was finally marrying the man of her dreams. Lisa had gone back to school to get her degree and Corinne—well, Corinne’s dreams kept changing. She wasn’t quite the dream success story, which was fine with Vivian since it made her own mediocre success look better.

“Don’t look so bummed,” Minna chided, obviously reading her expression. “You’re great at what you do.”

As if to prove it, Minna whipped off the lid and showed off the penis again, complete with a sweep of one hand.

“It does look good, doesn’t it,” she murmured. “But I’m still not quite living the dream.”

Vivian’s goal was to be the go-to gal for sexy cakes and candies. She specialized in clever, sculpted, suggestive treats of all sorts. It didn’t have to be overt, like the sparkling penis. She loved getting that hint of sex across black lace formed from royal icing or leather from modeling chocolate. She’d created everything from an orgy of cupcakes to a madam’s cake—a four-layer devil’s food cake covered in black “leather” with red lace and sugar whips.

And while she was doing okay, she hadn’t quite found the key to success yet. She was pretty confident of her skills, and was sure her prices were right. And she’d built a great online store. It was just a matter of getting people to check it out and buy.

“Did you hear anything from that program you’d applied to?”

The program was an internship with one of the most respected dessert culinary programs in the country. If accepted, she’d be spending a year studying under Geoffrey of Decadence Desserts. Learning the ins and outs, not only of perfecting her dessert-making skills, but also business and marketing knowledge that’d help her build The Sweet Spot into the name in sensual treats.

The problem was, the internship took place in California. So it not only included moving away from her hometown, but leaving her comfy job working for the family bakery. Sure, she hated the tedious repetition of making the same desserts over and over. And she was so over her family’s disdain for her creative choices of sensual cake decor. But it was home and it was a job and, well, it was safe.

She’d been excited when she’d applied. All hopped up on one of Lola’s inspirational lessons on chasing the dream. But now? California meant giving up her comfort for a low-paying job living in a dorm with a bunch of strangers. Vivian just wasn’t sure it was worth it.

“No word yet,” was all she said, though.

“You’ll get there,” Minna assured her quietly as she covered the cake again. “You know Lola says you’re holding yourself back. You’re not fully committing.”

Vivian had to clench her teeth to keep from arguing. Not because she disagreed. But she’d argued this point so many times that she simply couldn’t stand to hear that she had to give up her safety net again.

“I’ll get there,” was all she finally said.

Looking relieved at the response, Minna said, “I know you will,” then changed the subject.

After assuring her that she’d come up with something fun for shower favors, Vivian waved her friend out of the bakery. As soon as Minna was gone, she grabbed her iPad and opened up her website.

Maybe she needed to do more advertising? Vivian slid through the samples, her smile growing as she looked at each one. Granted, there were more sketches than actual photos. Mostly because she hadn’t scored a lot of orders yet and she couldn’t justify making a slew of baked goods just to take photos. But picture or sketch, they all looked great.

If she did say so herself.

The infamous penis cake, perfectly proportioned—to an eight-foot-tall man, granted—with a glistening flesh-colored modeling-chocolate covering and any variety of fillings.

Bikini cupcakes, each breast covered in sassy polka dots with just a hint of cherry-gel nipples peeking through the lace.

Three-dimensional bodies—both male, female and a few with both—made not from Rice Krispies Treats like some bakers used, but delicious cake through and through.

She should be a huge success.

The only problem was that she worked at her parents’ bakery and they weren’t a fan of her dreams. Which wouldn’t be a big deal except this was their store, as they’d snippily pointed out just last week. And apparently paying for the ingredients she used didn’t make up for using their space with her crazy ideas and wicked creations.

Vivian sniffed her disdain, but since she hadn’t found any way around that particular issue yet, she had to admit it did play into Lola questioning the seriousness of her commitment. According to her, Vivian should walk away from the family business and focus on her own. Dreams required risk, chapter twelve. Safety nets only slowed progress.

“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?”

Sexy-lingerie bridal shower candy, as a matter of fact.

At her silence, he knelt down to help her gather her ruined chocolate. After scooping up a few, he glanced at them and laughed.

“Is this a bikini top?”

Actually, it was a bra. It went with a thong. Vivian bit her lip to keep from blurting that out.

“Sure,” she said, since bikini was easier to explain than lingerie to a gorgeous man who made her breathless with need. Vivian scooped fast, snagging tiny chocolate nighties, baby dolls and corsets. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Zane to see her undies, but maybe not here on the street.

“I had no idea Little Creek Bakery was quite so imaginative,” he said, grabbing another piece, lifting it high to see the details in the streetlights. “Whoa, is this a garter belt?”

Hoping the cloak of night hid her embarrassment, Vivian wet her lips and fought the urge to grab the candy out of his hands.

“How many styles have you got here?” he wondered, bending down to scoop up another handful. Instead of tossing them into the box like she was, though, he took time to inspect every one of them. “I’m impressed. There might be some here I didn’t know existed until now.”

Yeah, right. She was willing to bet that Zane Bennett knew just about everything there was to know about women’s sex wear.

“If rumors are anything to go by, though, you have plenty of personal experience to call on. Maybe I should ask you for advice for my next batch?”

“Sweetheart, I wrote the book,” he teased. “You want suggestions, I’m your man.”

Vivian was proud of herself. Her breath only shuddered a little and she managed to keep her moan of delight in her head.

“So what’s the deal?” He lifted another piece of candy, this one a little bigger than the others, and frowned. “A chocolate homage to Victoria’s Secret?”

“They’re an experiment,” she explained. “Um, there’s this bridal shower and after making the cake, I had this idea for party favors.”

“And I ruined them,” he realized, not looking the least bit sorry. “Guess you’ll have to make another batch. You want help?”

Oh.

Vivian’s mind went blank. Mouth dry and heart racing, she could only stare. She wanted to think there was a double entendre in that offer, but the dim light wasn’t enough to judge his expression.

“Do you have any experience?” She waited a beat, long enough for his eyes to meet hers. The look in those dark depths made her want to squirm. Oh, yeah. He had plenty of experience. She took another moment to steady herself before adding, “With making chocolate?”

“Making...chocolate?” He smiled suggestively. “What do you think?”

Oh, God.

She tried to come up with a witty comeback. Or, hell, she’d settle for a lame one if she could just get the words out of her mouth. But how was she supposed to think with all this lust pounding through her system?

“Chocolate is tricky to work with,” she babbled. “It’s better to do favors like these at night when it’s cooler.”

And when the bakery was empty.

“A lot of things are better made at night,” he murmured.

He was flirting with her.

Vivian wondered if it was bad form to do a butt-wiggling victory dance in the alley this late while surrounded by chocolate lingerie.

“You’re melting.”

“What?”

How’d he know? Before she could figure it out, Zane angled the hand he captured up so the streetlight shone on it. Her heart pounding at the feel of his fingers on hers, Vivian caught a glance of the streak of chocolate.

“Um, yeah. It’s warm,” she started to say.

Then he shifted her hand to his lips.

And sucked on her finger.

“Delicious.”

Desire, hot and needy, coiled tight in her belly, making Vivian want to moan.

“Oh. My. God.”

She didn’t know she’d spoke the chant out loud until a wicked smile flashed over Zane’s face. Not sure if she should be embarrassed or grateful for the invitation in that smile, Vivian reluctantly pulled her fingers away from those tempting lips.

“Do you live nearby?”

Oh, yeah.

Her arm was in the air, ready to point toward the stairs that led to her apartment over the bakery. Inside her apartment was a bed. A big, comfy, private bed.

But something made her freeze midgesture.

Dozens of stories ran through her head. Stories about Zane Bennett and his legendary skill with women. The only thing more legendary was his inability to refuse a challenge.

Ding.

Vivian lowered her hand, letting it rest on his shoulder, her fingers tracing little circles on the back of his neck to buy time as her mind raced.

She took a step closer, so their bodies nearly brushed, but not quite. Then she gave him her sexiest smile. She sighed, deep, so her breasts skimmed over his chest. And watched his eyes blur.

Good, she thought as she stepped back enough to let him miss the contact. She had his attention.

“I have some damage control to do here,” she said, lifting the box of ruined chocolates and giving it a shake. “Why don’t we meet somewhere tomorrow?”

“Somewhere?” he repeated, his eyes boring into hers as if he could see all the way to the depths of her soul where her secrets were hidden. “Where did you have in mind?”

Oh, so many possibilities came to mind.

A hotel. A motel. Hot Tub Heaven. A mattress store. The back room of the bakery, where there was an ample supply of chocolate to pour over his body, then lick off.

“Drinks,” she said, shoving the words out fast before any of those other ideas could escape. “We could get a drink.”

“A drink sounds good.” She had to give him credit. He didn’t look upset about being put off. “Does Carvellos still have great appetizers?”

She’d figured on meeting at the pub, with her thoughts on easy access to her apartment. Vivian’s breath caught, delight pouring through her. With its moody lighting, private booths and piano bar, Carvellos was the go-to spot for romantic dates.

And he wanted to take her there.

Oh, my.

“They still have an amazing appetizer menu,” she said, blaming the giddiness in her voice on the fact that he wanted to romance her. Romance. Her. That was worthy of another “oh, my.”

Vivian bit her lip, her gaze shifting toward the stairs and her apartment. No, she scolded herself. Stick with the plan. She wanted his attention for more than one night. Now she had it, along with an invitation for drinks at the swankiest spot in town. “Is six okay?”

“Perfect.” His smile was like a magnet, pulling her closer. Vivian didn’t object when he reached out to slide one hand over her hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he cupped the back of her neck.

Staring into her eyes with that hypnotic gaze of his, Zane slowly lowered his head until his mouth was a breath away from hers. Vivian was sure her heart stopped. She was pretty sure the world stopped. She tried to tell herself to keep her expectations somewhere in the realm of realistic. Just because she’d spent years dreaming about Zane’s kissing prowess didn’t mean it’d be like she’d imagined.

Then his lips slid over hers.

A soft, gentle glide just a hint stronger than a whisper.

Her breath released in a slow shudder as she sank into the sweetness of it. Almost as sweet as her Bavarian cream. She started to relax, some of that tense anticipation drifting away as he shifted angles. Just the tiniest shift.

His tongue caressed her bottom lip. So, so sweet.

Then he nipped, a scrape of teeth over the full softness of her mouth. Desire shot, sharp and hot, through Vivian’s belly, sparking a desperate need.

She gasped.

His tongue plunged.

It swept over hers, coiled and danced. Vivian melted. She straight-up melted into a puddle of desire as he took the kiss from hot to incendiary with his magic tongue. She might have kissed him back; she wasn’t sure. Everything became a tangled blur of desire, edgy need pounding through her body, settling deep in her belly. Her breasts swelled, nipples beaded with passion.

Vivian had never felt so much.

The kiss might have lasted a minute. It might have lasted forever. All she knew was that she didn’t want it to end.

But apparently Zane didn’t hear that silent plea, because he pulled away. Slowly, he eased back. One last press of his lips against hers and he lifted his head.

Feeling as if her lashes weighed a ton, Vivian had to force her eyelids open. It took longer to swallow the knot blocking her airway and breathe.

Zane’s expression was intense. He stared for a long moment, first into her eyes, making her want to squirm. Then his gaze shifted to her mouth. His eyes darkened; his head shifted just a little. Vivian held her breath, wondering if he’d kiss her again. Then his eyes met hers again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his hand releasing her neck, leaving her feeling cold without the pressure. He stepped back, watching.

Waiting.

For what? she wondered. Until he realized he was being a gentleman. He was waiting for her to go wherever she was going, to make sure she was safe.

She couldn’t go upstairs to her apartment. Mike might have mentioned that his little sister lived above the bakery. Besides, knowing he realized where she lived might be too much temptation. What if he walked her to her door? There was no way she’d be able to resist yanking him inside with her.

So she dug her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the bakery door. Nothing to resist here, since no amount of sizzle could inspire her to do him in the same place that Mrs. Enid indulged in her daily cruller. A girl had to have some standards, after all.

As she pushed the door open, Vivian looked over her shoulder. Zane stood at the edge of the sidewalk, both hands in his pockets as he rocked back on the heels of his motorcycle boots. He wore a hint of a smile on his face and his eyes were hot with appreciation as he stared at her butt. Finally, his grin widening, he met her eyes.

“Tomorrow,” he said again, giving her a jaunty salute by tapping two fingers to his brow.

“Tomorrow,” she echoed, hesitating before she stepped through the door. He waited, she noticed, until she’d turned the lock behind her before he headed for the alley. He must be staying with Lenny, Vivian realized with a groan. She had to force herself not to chase after him.

As soon as he was out of sight, she dropped into one of the padded ice cream chairs, letting her box of ruined chocolates fall onto the table with a thunk—quickly followed by her head.

What had she done?

She’d had a chance to have hot, wild, rock-the-walls-and-make-the-roof-shake sex with Zane Bennett.

Something she’d been dreaming about since she was seventeen. She’d heard plenty of stories. Oh, not like Mike came home boasting about the Bennett brothers’ sexual exploits. But there’d been plenty of things she’d overheard him and his little circle of friends say, usually in tones of awe. And the women in town were more than vocal in singing their odes of delight to the wonder that was Zane’s sexual talents. They probably sang about Xander, too, but Vivian’s focus had always been on Zane.

So she knew that he was a man who loved a challenge. One who thrived on a dare. Which gave her an easy option if he balked at getting naked. The only downside to the dare option was as soon as he stepped up to the challenge, he was done.

She’d seen it plenty of times.

Guys loved the chase. But the minute they scored, they were off to the next challenge.

But Vivian wasn’t sure she wanted to settle for only one single round with Zane. Oh, she wasn’t thinking she wanted forever—who could make that kind of decision before sex and a playlist comparison? But she knew she wanted more than one time.

And the only way she’d get more than one was to keep Zane interested.

Intrigued.

Challenged.

Vivian gave the box of chocolates a little shake as she headed for the kitchen.

Oh, yeah. This was going to be fun.

5

ZANE ROLLED OUT of bed—or in this case, off Lenny’s couch—with one thing in mind.

The same thing that’d been on his mind all night.

The sexy blonde with the mile-long legs and chocolate lingerie.

Delicious.

He wouldn’t mind tasting more.

More than just that nibble of her finger, and definitely more of that chocolate. She’d sparked a hunger in him that he didn’t remember feeling before. One he had to explore. If only to see if that combination of laughter and lust had been a fluke. Laughter, lust and a gorgeous blonde? A perfect combination.

Who said chivalry was dead?

Zane knew it was alive because he’d used up his share for a lifetime. He’d used it walking away from the sexy blonde instead of talking his way into her bed.

Oh, he’d had the lines all—well, lined up. A little charm, another taste of that chocolate and a suggestion that they head to her place, where he might get to peek under that silky blouse of hers to see if the lingerie she wore was as sexy as the kind she made.

But first, he should find out her name.

How else was he going to call it out when he came?

A quick check of his watch assured him that he had an hour and a half before he had to meet the family for breakfast, then later to hit the high school to register for the reunion. Plenty of time to do a little recon on the blonde, take a pass at Quinn and hit the florist for a bouquet to take his mother.

Given all the women he had to charm, Zane took the time to cram himself into Lenny’s minuscule excuse for a shower. Damned thing was almost as small as the ones on the subs he’d served on. Not nearly as clean, though.

He was halfway down the outside stairs when he realized that, hey, he wasn’t bored anymore.

Which was probably why his grin was so wide when he strode through the wide glass doors of the bakery. It smelled amazing. Yeasty breads, sugary treats and hot fruit wafted through the air in tempting invitation.

He noted that, like the new blue-and-white-striped awning, the interior decor had been upgraded. There were a half-dozen small round tables, apparently for people who couldn’t wait to get out the door to dive into their baked goods.

“Can I help you?” The offer came from the pretty woman behind the counter, blond curls waving around a Kewpie doll face.

“I’m looking for...” Shit. Zane frowned. He really did need her name. “The baker.”

“Oh? Did you want to place a special order?”

“Sure.”

She gave him a narrow-eyed look, one that said she obviously knew who he was. But after a long moment, she stepped away from the counter to call through a set of swinging doors.

“Customer to see you.”

And there it was.

The sexy siren’s voice called out from the kitchen. He couldn’t make out her words, but that husky timbre was enough to ease a tension in his gut he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

Lips pursed, the Kewpie doll returned to the counter and gave him that look again.

“She’ll be out in a few minutes. She’s on the phone.” As if realizing that didn’t sound exactly professional, she added, “She’s talking with one of the owners and can’t be interrupted.”

Remembering Mike mentioning that his parents were traveling, Zane realized they must be running things long-distance. He wondered if they knew their sexy baker made naughty candies in her spare time.

A quick scan of the display counter assured him that while varied, pretty and delicious in appearance, there was nothing suggestive on those glass shelves.

He wasn’t surprised. Mr. and Mrs. Harris were nice enough people, but they leaned toward the stuffy side. The kind who would be horrified to even realize that chocolate could be molded into sexy undies, let alone that it was being done in their own bakery. He remembered their reaction to catching Mike with a Playboy—threats of a monastery, running his brain through a carwash or, as they’d settled on, grounding the guy for two months of hard labor.

“Did you want to buy something while you wait?” the girl asked halfheartedly. If her expression was anything to go by, she was sure the answer would be no.

So Zane was determined to say yes.

A quick glance at the cupcake-shaped clock on the wall reminded him that he had two more tasks and thirty minutes before he had to leave to meet his brother. But he’d bet his mom would be just as happy with a baked treat as she would flowers. With one task knocked off his list, he could use that time to spend with his own personal treat.

With that in mind, he glanced toward the glistening display case.

“How about a cupcake?” he requested, pointing to a pretty yellow one mounded high with swirls of whipped cream and topped with a glossy strawberry. It looked like the kind of thing Quinn would enjoy.

Deciding the sultry blonde was more the sexy devil’s food cake type, he pointed to another, this one looking as if it’d been dipped in chocolate that’d hardened beneath the swirls of lighter chocolate frosting and decorated with chocolate curls.

“Which one did you want?” the kewpie doll asked.

“I’ll take both.” Literally and figuratively. “And box up a half dozen of those there, the ones with the roses.”

After paying, he grabbed the chocolate cupcake and headed behind the counter, leaving the box and strawberry confection next to the register to grab on his way out.

“Wait,” the Kewpie doll stammered, trying to move fast enough to block his way. “You can’t go back there.”

“Sure I can. Mrs. Harris used to let me do it all the time. Mike’ll vouch for me,” he assured her.

She looked like she didn’t know if she should argue or not. Before she could decide, a pair of women entered the bakery with a jingle of the bell over the door.

Zane used the distraction to slip around her and into the back room. Letting the door swing shut behind him to close off the storefront from the kitchen, his gaze skipped over the stacked trays of bread in various tempting varieties and what looked like a wall of cookies, muffins and a rainbow of cupcakes waiting for frosting.

Overhead lights glinted on the stainless-steel tables in the center of the room, two set with baking equipment while the third held a five-tier cake currently naked but for the little sticks propped between the layers.

A sugar fiend’s paradise, he decided. Then his gaze found true paradise in the far corner. Her back to him, Zane enjoyed the unobstructed view of one of the sweetest butts he’d ever seen encased in a flirty skirt that cupped said butt, hugged slender hips and held tight to long legs all the way to just below the knee. As she shifted from one foot to the other, a series of tiny pleats played peek-a-boo with the back of her knees.

Who knew knees could be sexy?

He listened to what sounded like a report on a week’s worth of baking with half an ear as he settled one hip on a stainless-steel table and waited for her to notice him.

Eighteen seconds.

It took her just over a quarter of a minute to turn around. She made a little choking sound, gulping down the last of her sentence before giving him a little finger wave.

Zane waved back with the cupcake, liking the way her eyes lit up as she smiled.

“Um, I really should get to decorating now,” she said into the phone, her eyes tracking Zane’s moves as plucked off a chocolate curl and popped it into his mouth. “I’ve got that wedding cake to finish by two.”

She rolled her eyes, giving the won’t-shut-up hand signal.

Impressed with what he’d tasted so far, Zane broke off a chunk of the chocolate shell and licked the sweet frosting from the edge.

“Delicious,” he murmured before offering her the piece. When she shook her head, he popped it into his mouth. Damned delicious. He licked a smudge of frosting off his thumb. When her eyes blurred, he did it again.

By the time she hung up the phone, they were both pretty obviously turned on.

“You think you can seduce me with chocolate?”

Points to her for being quick on the uptake.

“As a matter of fact.” Zane swept his finger over the side of the cupcake’s frosting, scooping up a dab of chocolate. His eyes locked on Vivian’s, he licked it off, grinning when her pupils dilated.

“I thought we were meeting at six,” she said breathlessly, her eyes shifting from him to the door that led to the bakery, then back again.

He grinned, not sure why it amused him to make her so nervous.

“I wanted to stop in for cupcakes,” he explained. “And from what I’m tasting, yours are definitely delicious.”

“If you think my chocolate cupcake is amazing, you should taste my vanilla cream,” she teased, her smile widening into a teasing grin.

A niggling reminder tapped again, telling himself he knew her from somewhere.

“Are you attending the reunion?” he asked, knowing he’d never get another taste of frosting if he admitted that he knew her from somewhere but couldn’t remember where.

“Nope, no reunion for me. But I’ll try to catch a few of the events.”

Events?

“What events?”

She tilted her head to look behind him at the clock and gave a wide grimace before he could puzzle it out.

“It totally bums me out to say this, but I have to get to work,” she told him, pulling out a sexy little pout that made him want to lick that bottom lip.

“I should get going, too.” After all, he had to see his mom, meet the guys, win a challenge. “You probably have some cupcakes to bake.”

“Actually—” she wet her lips “—I’m playing with frosting today.”

Hot damn.

She dipped her finger into the bowl, drawing out a scoop of fluffy white frosting and holding it high.

Zane tore his eyes off her face long enough to glance at it, then had to look again.

“Is that glittering?”

“Mmm, edible glitter in the frosting. I think it adds a little something special.” Her eyes not leaving his, she swept her tongue over her finger, licking off half the frosting and sending a shaft of heat through Zane’s body so hard and fast that his jeans almost ripped.

“Want to taste?”

Instead of letting him lick her finger, though, she gave him her mouth. Soft, wet and tempting, her lips teased, her teeth scraped. The kiss went from playful to incendiary in a sweep of her tongue.

Then, way too soon, she pulled away, leaving behind the tempting flavor of vanilla and a little something special.

“Was that to hold me until drinks?” he asked, his hands rubbing circles over the soft fabric covering her hips.

“It’s just something to keep in mind. You know, in case you meet anyone or hear anything that makes you tempted to skip out on our date.”

“What I might hear?” He grinned. “You have a rep I should know about?”

“You’re one to talk about reps.” Vivian laughed, the sound both sexy and sweet at the same time. “It’d take me a lifetime to even work up to a tenth of your reputation, Mr. Bad Boy Bennett.”

“Good point. So what am I going to hear?”

Her gaze narrowed, those big brown eyes intense as she studied his face. But instead of answering, she shook her head.

“Just keep that kiss in mind,” she suggested.

As if there was any chance he’d forget.

“What’re you doing later?” he asked, keeping his voice low. No point in making it easy for the Kewpie doll to stir up gossip.

“Later, when?”

“Later, after we meet for drinks.”

A smile curved those full lips. It was a tempting sort of a smile that sent a hot shot of desire straight though his body. God, he couldn’t remember ever flashing so hot, so fast, for a woman before.

“I have some chocolate to replace,” she said, running her tongue over her bottom lip, then lifting one arched brow. “You remember the chocolate from last night?”

“In vivid detail, as a matter of fact. I even dreamed about a few of those chocolates.”

“Actually—” she leaned in closer so her words were a breath of air over his skin “—a few of those chocolate designs were based on my very own lingerie.”

He thought of the various odes to sexy underthings he’d seen the night before. Oh, yeah. Even hotter.

“How about I help you with that? Since it’s my fault your other batch was ruined.” This might be the first time he’d ever used chocolate as a ploy to get a woman naked.

“Are you any good?”

“Babe, you have no idea.” Zane’s smile turned wicked. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

Zane wanted to show her here and now just how satisfied she’d be, but he could hear the clock ticking behind him.

“Tonight,” he promised, heading for the exit with the chocolate cupcake in hand. Oh, yeah. One hand on the door, he glanced back. “Just one question.”

She hitched herself onto the desk, one leg crossed over the other so her skirt fluttered at her thighs as she swung her foot.

“Only one?”

His eyes locked on those legs, Zane wondered if he could actually feel his brain cells dying from lust overload.

“Just one.” He pulled his gaze up to her face, appreciating the sassy smile playing over those vivid red lips. “What’s your name?”

Her laugh filled the room as sweetly as the sugar already scenting the air.

“Vivian.”

Zane knew he’d never slept with a Vivian before, but he did a quick memory check anyway. Because there was something so damned familiar about her.

“Nice to meet you, Vivian.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Zane.” The words were a husky purr that suited silk sheets and candlelight.

His grin flashed.

“Believe me, it will be.”

He’d make sure of it.

“Oh, Zane?”

He looked over his shoulder.

“One more thing.” She swiped up another scoop of frosting, then delicately licked the glittery white confection off her finger. His blood zoomed south so fast, Zane was surprised he didn’t black out. He grabbed hold of the door frame, just in case.

“Anything,” he said. “Especially if it includes frosting.”

“It might.” Vivian smiled, one foot swinging to and fro, each pass making her skirt flutter and showing that sexy hint of thigh. “Of course, you have to show up to find out. With that in mind—” she put her finger in her mouth again, sucking the frosting clean off, and Zane had to remind himself to breathe “—I dare you to show up this evening—no matter what you might hear about me.”

“What?” He shook his head to clear the lust fog. “Why?”

“Oh, I have my reasons,” she promised. “If you take the dare, you’ll find out what they are.”

“I never say no to a dare.” Zane aimed a finger her way. “You’re on.”

“I can’t wait.” With that, Vivian dipped her spatula into the stainless-steel bowl, spread a thick layer of white glitter over the first tier of cake, then looked up with a flutter of her lashes. “Maybe later you’ll be saying that again.”

* * *

YOU’RE ON.

Those words played out in Zane’s head like a soundtrack to a very enticing reel of images. What did she have in mind? Oh, he’d clued in to the sexual innuendo just fine.

“Hi.”

But there was more going on.

“Zane?

He might serve in EOD instead of Intelligence, but he was trained well enough in cryptology to recognize a hidden message when he heard it. Now he just had to decipher the meaning.

“Have you slipped into a coma? Or did you forget why you knocked on my door?”

Zane blinked the pretty brunette into focus. From the expression on her face, she wasn’t used to being ignored. With good reason. There was nothing ignorable about Quinn Oswald.

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