Treat with Caution (Treats to Tempt You Book 1) Read online

  “You’re thinking of him now, aren’t you?”

  Tasha stared at her friend. “What do you mean?”

  Maisey smiled. “You seem…different. Like he’s rubbed off your sharp edges.”

  Tasha snorted. “He’s not that good.” But Maisey’s words puzzled her. She couldn’t have changed already, after one night? What did Maisey mean?

  She took a long swig of her coffee and watched a toddler trying desperately to climb onto one of the bouncy horses, then bawl when he failed to pull himself up. His mum came and lifted him on, and the tears miraculously disappeared as he swung himself happily to and fro.

  “Maisey, I just want to say I’m sorry.”

  Her friend’s eyebrows rose. “For what?”

  “For not discussing it with you first.”

  Maisey’s lips twisted wryly. “You don’t have to ask my permission.”

  “I know. But…” Tasha scratched her nose. “I feel bad. I didn’t think about you when we made that bet on the beach. And that wasn’t fair. You know you come first for me, right? Our friendship is very important to me.”

  Maisey blinked hard. “Are you trying to make me cry?”

  “Aw, no, honey.” The two girls hugged.

  “Look,” Maisey said when they eventually drew apart. “Firstly, if I didn’t want the two of you to get together, I would have said so at the time. And in many ways, it wasn’t a surprise anyway.”

  Tasha stared at her. “Not you as well?”

  Maisey grinned. “Someone else say the same thing?”

  “Fox, apparently. And my mother. Kole and I were the last to see it.”

  Maisey waved a hand and took a bite of her roll. “It’s not that obvious. You’ve always argued. But beneath it there’s always been an undercurrent, you know?”

  “A bit like you and Joss?”

  It was Maisey’s turn to stare. “What? There’s nothing between me and Joss.”

  Tasha held her gaze, and Maisey’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Seriously!” Maisey protested. “I’m absolutely the last person he’d be interested in. And I’m not interested either.”

  “Ha!” Tasha scoffed. “Of course you are. He’s gorgeous.”

  “He is gorgeous, but he’s also never shown any interest in me whatsoever. He’s like a brother, Tash, always has been, always will be. He’s only just stopped pulling my pigtails, for God’s sake.”

  Privately, Tasha wondered whether Maisey gave any thought to the fact that Joss had stopped pulling her pigtails. He didn’t see her as a kid anymore—the dude totally checked her out whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.

  But Maisey was already moving on. “Anyway, this is about you, not me, so stop changing the subject. Look, let’s just forget for now Kole’s my brother. What I want to know is…how did it go? Really?”

  Their eyes met, and Tasha couldn’t stop a smile creeping across her face. “It was fantastic,” she admitted. “Best sex I’ve ever had.”

  “Seriously?” Maisey’s eyes widened.

  Tasha nodded. “It made me realize how hopeless the other guys I’ve been with were, even Lewis, who I thought was the bees’ knees at the time. But we were so young—he was my first and I think there’d only been one other girl before me for him, so it’s not that surprising we didn’t have a clue what we were doing. But Kole…” She tailed off at the memory of his outrageous statement when she’d offered to go down on him. No. I want to fuck you. She shivered.

  “Your eyes have glazed over,” Maisey said. “Was he really that good?”

  “He was just so…intense.” She should have guessed. He’d warned her she’d get a hundred percent of him. You think you can handle that? Now, she wasn’t sure. He’d awoken her again shortly after seven and proceeded to make love to her a third time, kissing away her protestation that she had to go home to shower and change for work, and screwing her so thoroughly she felt slightly radioactive down below. Three times. In one night. And she’d thought she was demanding.

  “So the outfit worked, then?” Maisey said mischievously. She’d helped Tasha get ready for the evening, had done her hair and talked her into wearing the lenses that had sat in the cupboard since Laura Wilde had dragged her daughter to the optician and forced her to buy them.

  “You could say that.” Tasha thought of how he’d whipped the dress over her head in full view of the harbor, and sighed.

  “Well, I hope you’re having an effect on him too,” Maisey commented. “Joss was convinced you were going to win this bet, but listening to you now I’m not so sure. I’m one of the judges, remember?”

  Tasha waved a hand and stuffed the final bite of roll into her mouth. “No need to worry about that. It’s purely physical. I’m having a great time, but there’s absolutely no way I’m going to fall for Mr. I-refuse-to-commit. I know what he’s like. I’ve watched him date enough girls over the years. At the first sign of anything serious he runs a mile.”

  “True.” Maisey smiled. “Fair enough. Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time. When are you seeing him again?”

  “Not until Wednesday, actually. Tonight he’s going to Whangarei to take photos of a twenty-first birthday party. Fancy having it on a Monday! And Tuesday obviously we’re going out.” They had tickets for a famous kiwi band performing over at the Hokianga, and they’d planned it ages ago.

  “You don’t have to come,” Maisey said. “Caitlin was telling me she wished she had tickets.”

  Tasha pushed away the brief surge of longing that flooded her. “No, no, of course I’ll go.” She didn’t want Maisey to feel she was taking second place to her brother, not for a minute.

  “Okay. Well, I suppose we ought to get back to work.”

  “Roll on working for ourselves, eh?”

  “Absolutely.” They put their rubbish in the bin and walked slowly back to the café. “By the way, I had an idea for a new truffle,” Maisey said, and proceeded to talk about her notion for using local lemons for a mousse-filled chocolate.

  Tasha listened and nodded, making a mental note to add the recipe to the list. Maisey would forget about it in an hour, but her ideas were always fabulous—she just needed Tasha to bring them to fruition.

  She hadn’t thought much about the shop over the last couple of days. She had to remember the site on the waterfront was the real reason behind her attempts to seduce Kole. If she concentrated on that, it should keep things nice and simple.

  The rest of the day passed quickly, and that evening Elle and Caitlin came around, and they spent a pleasant few hours talking about Treats to Tempt You and drawing up plans for how they wanted the shop to look inside.

  “Any news on the site?” Elle asked. Surprisingly determined beneath her soft-spoken, gentle persona, Elle had been the first person to spot the waterfront shop in the estate agent’s window.

  “I’m working on it,” Tasha said, causing Maisey to cough into her drink.

  “What’s the joke?” Caitlin was the younger sister, the one who’d inherited all the attitude, all the sass.

  Tasha met Maisey’s laughing eyes and gave a little shake of her head. They were all good friends, and they’d all lived together for a few months toward the end of their uni days, but even so, she wasn’t quite as close to the two sisters as she was to Maisey.

  “Nothing,” Maisey said. “Here, what do you think about the lemon truffle idea?”

  Elle started talking about flavorings, and the talk continued. Tasha breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to keep this thing with Kole a secret. Because it’s nothing serious, she told herself as the others rattled on about whether coffee or mint was best. But deep down, she knew that wasn’t the reason. She didn’t want to tell them because it would become a huge joke and they’d tease her, and she didn’t want that. This thing with Kole might be short-term, but she was enjoying herself in spite of the bet hovering in the shadows. And she already knew that even though it would never come to anything, and she was totally going to
keep her heart well away from him, she was going to be disappointed when it came to an end.

  When Elle and Caitlin left, she and Maisey went to bed, tired out, but sleep refused to come, and Tasha lay awake for a while, wondering how Kole was getting on at the twenty-first birthday party. The birthday girl was a family friend and there would no doubt be lots of young, nubile women there who would be flirting with the sexy photographer. Would he see any of them after the party? Sure, they’d both agreed not to date anyone else over the fortnight, but she didn’t know if he’d pass up on the chance of a hot date because of their…whatever it was. Relationship didn’t seem like the right word.

  It’s none of your business what he gets up to, she tried to tell herself. But her eyes refused to close, nevertheless.

  Just a few minutes later, though, as if he could read her mind, her phone buzzed to announce the arrival of a text. She reached over and flipped it open, and sure enough, his name appeared on the screen.

  She read the message.

  Help! I need rescuing! There are twenty giggling girls here. It’s like a fucking hen night.

  She chuckled and texted back. Sounds like your idea of heaven.

  It’s a fucking nightmare. I have a headache. Why do girls have to screech so much?

  She laughed. Poor Kole. Can’t handle a bunch of girls. You’re getting old, dude.

  Joke all you like. I might not make it out alive.

  She bit her lip. Jealousy had never been an emotion she’d had to deal with before, but it reared up like a grizzly bear inside her at the thought of all those slim, pretty women draped over him.

  Her phone beeped. You still there?

  She decided to be honest. I’m sulking at the thought of you with twenty other women.

  He came back immediately. Only one girl for me, babe. Not even a question. A hundred percent, remember?

  She tingled all over. Wish you were here.

  God, me too. Miss you.

  She snuggled down into the pillow, pulling the duvet close around her. Me too.

  See you Wednesday.

  Yeah. Bye.

  Kiss, kiss. He finished with a smiley face.

  Tasha clipped the phone shut, curled up, and soon dozed off.

  She dreamed about him on and off all night, haunted by the memory of his arms around her, his mouth on hers, and awoke the next morning irritated, unfulfilled, and frustrated. And she was late getting up again, so she couldn’t even take the time to relieve herself of the ache between her thighs before she had to go to work.

  All day, she felt in a sort of fever, unable to shake him from her mind. At work, Maisey chattered on about the concert that evening, but Tasha couldn’t drum up any enthusiasm.

  “Are you coming down with something?” Maisey asked her at one point, pressing the back of her fingers to Tasha’s forehead. “Your eyes look glazed.”

  Tasha had been daydreaming about Kole leaning over her, demanding she roll onto her front, and she came very close to blushing again. “Um…”

  Maisey’s lips twisted wryly. “Look. As you’re obviously not feeling well…” Her eyes told Tasha that she knew perfectly well what was wrong with her. “Why don’t I ask Caitlin to come with me tonight?”

  Tasha opened her mouth to protest, but stopped at Maisey’s smile. “I don’t even know if he’s home tonight,” she finished lamely. “Maybe he has a hot date.”

  Maisey gave her a wry look. “If he dates anyone else while he’s seeing you, he’ll get it in the ear from me. Anyway, he will be home later—I spoke to him after lunch. His last appointment is at six. He’ll be back home by seven at the latest.”

  Tasha bit her lip. “I was really looking forward to the concert.”

  Maisey squeezed her arm. “I know. But this is important. We need that shop.” Her eyes searched Tasha’s, and Tasha swallowed nervously. Was Maisey aware the shop hadn’t even entered her mind?

  All afternoon, she toyed with whether she should go to the concert or see Kole. She considered texting him to discuss it, but decided against it. She had to make up her own mind first.

  Maisey went ahead and rung Caitlin to ask whether she’d like to go with her, though, and Tasha could hear the answering scream of delight through the phone, so in the end the decision was made for her.

  At five, they went home, but Maisey left soon after to pick Caitlin up before heading off for the hour’s drive to the west coast. Tasha took a long bath, washed her hair, pampered and preened, and finally made herself admit she was preparing herself for a guy.

  She put makeup on.

  Took it off again.

  Put a dusting of powder and a slick of lip gloss back on.

  Hovered her hand over her lenses, then chose her glasses.

  Stood in front of her wardrobe for ages staring at her clothes. Trailed her fingers over the few skirts she owned, remembering the way he’d slowly lifted her dress, his fingers brushing her thighs. And finally chose jeans and a tight white T, not quite her usual black or khaki, but easy to convince herself she wasn’t making an effort.

  Seven thirty found her drawing up outside Kole’s house, and she parked and got out nervously. His car was out the front, so he must be home. However, when she knocked on the door he didn’t answer.

  Maybe he was on his way back from a run—she knew he went out every day. Would he be pleased to see her? If she saw the slightest hint of irritation on his face, she’d pretend she was just passing by and head straight off.

  She sat on the front wall surrounding the pretty front garden, and tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kole’s trainers pounded the road, settling easily into a fast rhythm that matched the loud music blaring through his earphones. Nothing like a little Foo Fighters to get the heart pumping. In the beginning, he sang occasionally as he ran, but after a while the songs became white noise in the background as his brain turned to other matters.

  Namely, Tasha. An irritated groan accompanied his next exhalation. He’d thought about little else all day, and had worked himself up into a fine lather by the time he arrived home. You’re like a fucking frisky dog that needs taking for a long walk, he’d told himself, and had tugged on his running shoes instead of going to take a shower so he could relieve himself of the erection that had sprung to life on and off all day every time he thought about her.

  It wasn’t working though. He could have run all thirteen hundred miles from Cape Reinga to Invercargill and it wouldn’t have stopped him feeling horny. Unfortunately, his mind kept painting pictures of her: beneath him, on top of him, a glimmer in the darkness, of her breasts with their beautiful swollen nipples that begged to be sucked. He could almost taste her, hot and sweet, and hear her cries as he thrust into her.

  Fucking hell. How was it possible to get an erection when he was running flat out?

  Sweat ran down his back, stained the chest of his light gray T-shirt with a dark V. He pushed himself hard, took the hills faster than normal, and by the time he turned the corner toward his house, his heart was pounding, his blood racing around his body.

  He slowed to a walk at the end of the road, stopping for a moment to bend over with hands on knees in the cool evening air. He was getting too old for this. One way or another, he’d give himself a heart attack if Tasha Wilde didn’t stop haunting him.

  He pushed himself upright, longing for a cold shower. For a moment, he thought his poor, tortured mind had conjured her up. She sat on the front wall, legs stretched out, arms folded, but stood as he approached and tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

  Heart still pounding, although it should be slowing by now, he stood in front of her, conscious of how he must look, hot, sweaty, and panting. Very suave.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She didn’t reply, just stared at him. He licked his lips and wiped his hand across his mouth, wishing he’d brought a water bottle, saw her glance at his T-shirt, and realized she was looking a
t the sweat-stained patches. Jeez.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, running a hand through his wet hair. “Thought you’d gone to the concert.”

  She shook her head, but still didn’t say anything. He studied her, wondering what the matter was, hands on hips as he continued to try and catch his breath. She looked more like the old Tasha, in jeans and a white T-shirt, wearing her glasses. But all he could see was the way the cotton stretched across her breasts. How the denim had creased at the junction of her thighs. The glisten of her lips, which would be sticky with the gloss.

  He turned away. If he carried on like that, he’d be throwing her on the lawn and doing her in the garden.

  “Come in.” He took the keys from the pocket of his shorts and unlocked the front door, then stood back to let her in. She walked past him, eyes lowered. She still hadn’t said anything. Why was she there? Was she about to tell him it was all over?

  Hoping that wasn’t the case, he followed her in, closed the door, and went straight to the fridge. After retrieving a small bottle of water, he drank half of it in one go, then gave a long sigh, wiping his mouth again as he turned to her.

  He stopped. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as if she was the one who’d just run for forty minutes. Her eyes were wide, intense. His gaze fell to the breasts that heaved with each breath, and when his eyes returned to hers, her lips had parted.

  And suddenly, he understood.

  He wasn’t sure who moved first, but within a second they’d closed the distance, and his mouth was on hers.

  A day’s worth of longing and frustration poured into the kiss he gave her, and he pushed her up against the worktop, groaning as her soft body pressed against his rapidly hardening one. It was like buying two scoops of chocolate ice cream on a searingly hot day, and he just wanted to sink his mouth into her, to let his senses run wild, to plunge into her wet flesh until she screamed for release.

  Her hand clutched his hair, and he snapped out of the sexual fog that had descended around him and cursed as he remembered his hair was damp with sweat, the same as his clothing. He must smell awful.