The Sweetest Thing

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  It was a short taxi ride to Restaurant Iris, the historic midtown home that had been transformed into a bastion of culinary heights. As the car was stalled in traffic Harper took a moment to gather her thoughts and meditate on the meeting she was about to have with Mr. Porter.

  Overall it had been a good day. Despite the elephant in the corner of the bakery she and Quentin had been good with each other, finding an easy balance. As the afternoon had gone on he’d become quiet and slightly withdrawn, his attention on the many loaves of bread that needed to be baked for one of the local restaurants. Despite her best efforts he had refused to discuss her pending meeting with his old friend Dwayne but when the taxi had pulled up to the bakery door he’d kissed her cheek and had wished her good luck. But as the driver pulled in front of the restaurant Harper couldn’t help but think she might need something stronger than luck to get her through the evening.

  Entering the lobby she was instantly impressed with the space, the ambiance warm and inviting. Harper was surprised when the maître d’ greeted her by name, advising that her dinner companion was already there waiting for her. She followed as he guided her through the restaurant to a table near the back of the room by the lit fireplace. Dwayne sat waiting, the man still looking like a delectable piece of chocolate in his signature black suit.

  He rose from his seat to greet her, extending a warm hand. “Harper, hello!”

  “Dwayne! Thank you for meeting with me.”

  He pulled out a chair for her and she took a seat. “It’s my pleasure.”

  She took a quick glance at her watch. “I’m surprised that I beat Rachel here.”

  He smiled politely. “Regretfully, Rachel won’t be able to join us. She called and cancelled.”

  “Oh!” Harper exclaimed, slightly surprised. She hadn’t spoken to Rachel, the woman sending a message via Troy to confirm their meeting and now she wasn’t there. The annoyance of it must have shown on her face, leading Dwayne to comment.

  “I’m sure she would be here if she could,” he said, his smile deep. “But don’t worry. I promise you I won’t bite,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “Unless, of course, you want me to?”

  Harper met his gaze and the silly expression on his face made her smile.

  He laughed. “See, I’m really not so bad,” he said, “and I’m sure you’ve heard all kinds of horrible things about me.”

  The moment was interrupted when the waitress came to take their drink orders. They made small talk, Dwayne controlling most of the conversation, until the beverages and their appetizers were delivered. Through the main course Dwayne talked about himself and his family and his life in Memphis. It wasn’t until the dessert, a flaming cherries jubilee, was delivered to the table that they finally got around to discussing his interest in her late father’s business.

  “I started Home Grown Foods two years after I graduated from college. Now we’re one of the leading food-service distributors to restaurants, healthcare and hospitality facilities, government operations, and educational institutions. We offer more than three hundred fifty thousand national brand products plus our own high-quality private label items ranging from meats to produce to frozen foods. I employ about twenty-five thousand associates in more than sixty locations and our continued growth relies on my acquiring businesses that distinguish us from our competitors.”

  “So, why Just Desserts? How will our small business fit into the scope of your organization?” Harper questioned.

  “Just Desserts has the benefit of being a neighborhood staple. Right now its name recognition is synonymous with everything downtown Memphis represents. I plan to take that and eventually expand it nationally.”

  “How do you keep it from just being swallowed up by your company? I don’t see how it can’t get lost.”

  “I have the resources to build multiple Just Desserts locations, expanding that footprint throughout Tennessee, the south region, and nationally. And, with our mass-producing the recipes the bakery is renowned for we will eventually have Just Desserts competing with food brands like Flower Foods, United States Bakery, and Hostess Brands.”

  “Hostess filed for bankruptcy,” Harper noted. “There are no more Twinkies!”

  Dwayne laughed. “Actually, I read in the news that Twinkies have made a nationwide return. But I think we can give them a good run for the money!”

  “And, what about Quentin and Troy? How do they fit into your plans? They’re both an integral part of the business.”

  “I hope they’ll both continue to be. They bring a lot of talent to the table. Despite what you may have been told, Harper, I have great respect for both of them. Once upon a time Quentin and I were great friends and I miss our friendship. I’m hoping to make amends and possibly build on this with him.”

  He leaned across the table, his dark eyes meeting her stare. He reached for her hand and held it. Harper felt her breath catch in her chest and her pulse quicken. “I promise you,” he said, his tone dropping an octave, “Just Desserts will continue to be a viable entity in the food and bakery industry. All I want is to maximize its full potential and grow it as big as I can.” He leaned back, moving his hand from hers, and smiled.

  Harper could only imagine the number of women who had fallen head-first for that smile. She blinked, her eyelashes fluttering as she shifted her gaze from his. Perspiration had dampened her palms and she swiped her hands across the cloth napkin in her lap. She took a deep breath before lifting her eyes back to his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “It was good. I wish you had come.”

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

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

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

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

  “What I might want isn’t important.”

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

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

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

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

  “He told me he misses your friendship.”

  “You two talked about me?”

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

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

  “Is he your enemy?” she questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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