The Sweetest Things Read Free Page A

had to either be underhanded or outright. He could remember a time sixteen years ago when he’d been underhanded. Making that bet with Harper had opened the door on his coming into contact with the sweetest lips known to man. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still taste her cherry Chapstick.
    He wondered what her lips tasted like now—what all of her tasted like now. Was she a screamer or a soft moaner? Would she pull his hair, leave scratches on his back, or grip him tight enough to show how much she needed him but not tight enough to leave a mark? How would she like it the first time—on her back or her knees?
    “And this is your room,” Harper said, interrupting his train of thought. She’d been giving him a tour, but his focus had been on his nefarious romantic ideas rather than what she was saying. That kind of worked to his advantage because now he’d be able to storm into her room and accidentally see her naked...once he figured out where it was, and swear that he’d gotten lost.
    The guest room was large and inviting with wall-sized windows, a king sized bed, and various shades of baby blue and chocolate. There were even a few framed baseball jerseys up from various teams. Without a word, Konstantine dropped his bag and ran for the bed, diving onto it and sighing.
    “Um, before you start dry-humping my good linen, I think you should know there’s a full bath right across the hall. I’m running out to the farmer’s market because I’m sure if I open my fridge right now, bats will fly out.”
    Snorting, he rolled over and dug into his back pocket to get his wallet. “Take my card.”
    “Koz, I’m not—”
    “Do you want me cranky?” he barked, cutting her off before holding out his debit card. “Take it. Use it. The PIN is my birthday. Don’t argue with me or I will get off this bed.”
    “Konstantine—”
    “When’s the last time someone gave you a wedgie?”
    She clamped her lips shut and snatched the card out of his hand. “Asshole.”
    He rolled back onto his stomach and buried his face in a pillow. “Love you too, Sweets.”
     
    ***
     
    He made her crazy; had been doing that forever. Giant, hairy bastard. The thing of it was, she couldn’t exactly deny the way her chest warmed when he said he loved her. It wasn’t like the words were foreign to her. Any time he’d talked to her, they’d left his mouth with an ease that couldn’t be paralleled. There was something about that subtle New York accent and the huskiness of his voice that made her go still, waiting for the next word.
    From the time Konstantine and Owen had helped her reach a cookie tin in her Mama’s kitchen, Harper had been fascinated by the tall, lanky kid with the out-of-control black mane and the startling ice-blue eyes. Konstantine’s manners, humor, and innate sweetness had made him a regular in the Sweet household. She knew he had a close relationship with his father but lacked the traditional family structure that helped all kids learn how to interact with others their own age.
    When he first came around, Harper had expected him and Owen to avoid her but they never did. They included her in every little thing. If she were honest, Konstantine was the reason she became a softball little league all star. It had been his idea for her to learn how to play when she got old enough, and Harper discovered she loved the game almost as much as she loved sweets.
    Years went by, and she stopped focusing so much on her sport and more on what else she loved to do—bake. It had been Elena’s idea for her to learn to make different desserts since her mother ran a small cake baking business. Her father, David, owned a lucrative marketing company—Owen had taken it over a few years ago—which was how he and Elena met. She did the very same thing Harper did now with distribution, dropping off fresh pastries every day for the lounge at David’s office.
    Harper’s childhood had been full of laughter and all the things