The Sweetest Things Read Free Page B

that an adult could look back on and smile. Her parents weren’t perfect, but they had been loyal to one another and the family they built. Elena had pushed her into attending NYU for her business degree and shortly thereafter her father helped her research culinary art schools until she found the perfect one.
    When Sweet Treats began, it was Harper selling snacks off a cart on the blocks of New York City. David had offered to back her into getting a building and investors but she refused, wanting to do it herself. By night, she worked in a coffee shop, living at home; by day, she marketed cookies, cakes, pies, and anything else she could make. Before she knew it, she’d been discovered by none other than a businessman who worked with Ivan Vetrov.
    He’d given her the money to find a location, set up, and get started. When Sweet Treats took off, Harper was able to pay him back with interest. Years later, here she was, more than a little proud of her success. Wandering around the farmer’s market never failed to get her juices flowing. So many fresh ingredients gave her multiple ideas on what her next big dessert test could be. During Thanksgiving, her sweet potato cheesecake had been a huge hit, and when Christmas rolled around, her gingerbread-crusted pies had been another big seller.
    Chocolate strawberries were known to be in high demand around this time with Valentine’s Day coming up, so she could perfect some new recipes. Of course Janet, her sister-in law, would make fun of her because the highlight of a lover’s holiday would be making chocolate instead of dipping someone in that chocolate, but it really couldn’t be helped. Harper wasn’t good at dating; as a matter of fact, she fucking sucked at it.
    She got really twitchy and uncomfortable around unrelated males. Having known two particular men all her life, she had the gist of what men saw when they looked at a woman, and she had no desire to become another notch on someone’s bedpost. The one time she had sex it was to finally get it out of the way, and the experience had been enough to make her feel as though she understood why nuns took vows of celibacy.
    Surprisingly, that one touch from Konstantine earlier in the airport had brought life to something she’d thought long dead—her libido. If Harper ever decided to look deeper, which she wouldn’t, she’d admit he’d been able to do that just from the sound of his voice over the phone or the picture of his face on Skype.
    When Harper looked down at her basket and realized she’d unconsciously gathered all the makings for Konstantine’s favorite dinner, she knew she was in deep.

Three
     
     
    “Why, in the good lord’s name, do you currently have your hand buried elbow-deep in my underwear drawer?”
    The question was asked softly, calmly. But Konstantine had known Harper long enough to know the quiet should worry him the most, generally because it came before the storm. So, there he stood, with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. At this point, he could be completely honest and say that after his shower and two-hour-long nap, he’d gotten up and out of curiosity found himself wandering around her bedroom. It was so... Harper.
    Her furniture was a light wood that went well with the summer colors adorning her walls, bedspread, ottoman, and small sitting area. Her bathroom had a tropical theme with sand-colored rugs, Mediterranean tile, and portraits of various beaches. Hanging above her bed was her framed high school softball jersey.
    Yet with all the photos and cool knick-knacks, one thing called to him like a beacon, just begging for his attention. Konstantine being Konstantine, he it said attention. Which was how she inevitably found him playing around with her underwear. Now, he could admit all that, or...
    “Uh, I was looking for the kitchen.” Blinking, he pulled his hand out of the drawer, one of her soft, pink, lace bras dangling from his fingers. He tucked his lips in and rocked