Free Sweet on You (The Wilde Sisters #1) by Marianne Rice Page A

up the cake. What did you come up with?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Nothing? Well, okay. I don’t really need it today. As long as it’s ready when I leave tomorrow—”
    “I’m not coming up with anything. You are. It’s your parents. I’ll help you with some ideas but I thought it would be pretty cool if you made the cake.”
    She snorted. “Me? I can’t bake. Stir fry, grill, sure, but I don’t do sweets. I’ve never even made cookies. Not even the kind you buy at the store with the dough in those tube things—”
    Trent covered her mouth with his finger. “Shh, we don’t talk about such things in the house of confections. That’s blasphemy.” He pulled his hand away and turned her so he could tie her apron. “I’ll guide you. All you have to do is follow orders. You can do that, right?” He spun her around and yanked on her ponytail. Such a brotherly, friendly gesture.
    She hated it.
    “Sure. Whatever. Tell me what to do,” she snarled.
    “That’s the spirit!” He gently chucked her chin with his knuckles and pushed her toward the sink. “First, wash up.”
    After listening to about fourteen thousand sugary combinations, she opted for a coconut cream cake with raspberry filling. Ever the model student, Rayne followed Trent’s directions and measured, poured, stirred, sifted, whipped, and creamed. Her arms ached after an hour of baking.
    “Why couldn’t we use one of those big mixer things?” she asked after they put the cake in the oven and the filling in the fridge. “My arms are killing me from all that beating.”
    “Sounds to me like you need a new personal trainer,” he teased.
    “Bite me,” she growled and watched his eyes darken. “You did this on purpose to torture me.”
    “Oh, stop being a baby and go wash the dishes.”
    “I don’t know why I couldn’t have given them one of the lovely cakes you have in the display case up front,” she grumbled on her way to the sink. “I’ll wash but you dry.”
    They worked together, her banging dishes around while he whistled and laughed at her grumpy mood. Only she wasn’t grumpy about the upper body workout or dish duty. She wore her favorite red halter-top. The one that made her look like she had a C cup. It showed off her shoulders and dipped a bit in the back to reveal her shoulder blades. The daisy dukes weren’t super short but she knew they did tremendous things to her booty. And Trent never let his eyes stray from her face. Maybe the man was gay and didn’t know it yet.
    She held back a snort. As if.
    Rayne didn’t always get hit on, not in regular clothes and with a naked face, but when she put a little makeup on—just a touch of mascara and some shiny lip gloss—like she did today, and spent a few extra minutes on her hair and wardrobe, she could turn a few heads.
    And the only head she hoped to turn had no intention of looking her way. She’d give him until tomorrow, and if he didn’t put the moves on her by the end of the night, she’d body tackle him to the floor.
     
    ***
     
    Trent
     
    “I deserve a freakin’ award,” Trent grumbled before he took a swig from his bottle of beer.
    “No, you deserve a kick in the ass. I don’t get why you don’t throw on the infamous Kipson magic and charm her pants off.” Brian laughed.
    “I can’t.”
    “Why the hell not? You like her, right? She’s hot. She’s funny. You two seem to have a lot in common. Are you afraid you’ll fall in love or something?” Brian flipped the burgers on the grill and popped open another beer.
    Trent grabbed a handful of chips, chewed, and contemplated how much he should tell his friend. “She’s different than the women I date.”
    “No kidding,” Brian laughed. “She has a brain and a personality.”
    Rolling his eyes, he bent to scoop up Faith, using her as a shield, and patted her back. “We’re friends—”
    “Friends that—”
    “Don’t you dare say it, man. Yeah, I like her. I respect her a hell of a lot too. She’s