One Night With A Seal. Tawny Weber

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,”