“What do you think of that?” he asks me.
I force myself to say what he needs to hear. “I think you should go. Sounds like a great opportunity.”
“You wouldn’t want me to stay and—”
I cut him off. “No. You should go. Football is your dream and the way you expected it to look may have changed, but it seems like it’s not letting go of you quite yet.” I turn to the grits, and realize I’ve let them burn. “Crap,” I say, pulling the pan form the burner.
“Let me help—” Major tries to reach for the pan, but I shoo him away.
“Major, I think you should go,” I say. “Please.”
“But I—”
“No. Go, Major. Please.” I retreat, pull back into my shell for protection.
I made one promise to myself when I moved here — I would not let a man break my heart. And Major? He could crush it so easily.
Chapter Six
Major
I leave her cottage because she asked me to go, but even as I walk away, I know it’s the last time I will. Because when I see her again, I won’t leave room for doubt. I will make sure she understands me, my intentions. Even if I have to give up everything else. For her, I would give up anything.
When I walk into Grandma Trudy’s house, I see the peach roses I bought her yesterday afternoon in a vase on the counter. “Grandma?” I call out, looking for her in the house.
“I’m out here,” she hollers. She’s in the living room reading on her Kindle. I smile — she loves her stories. Though, one time I saw what she was downloading — some mountain man romance titled Timber — and I admit to blushing. But I figure she’s a grown ass woman and can read whatever the hell she wants. She certainly doesn’t need her grandson commenting.
I lean in and give her a kiss. “Do you need some tea?” I ask her.
“Oh no, Brittany was just here. She got me all taken care of.” Brittany is her nurse, who comes once a day. She’s been a godsend, especially while I was gone. Grandma gives me a long look. “What is it honey?”
Exhaling, I sit on the chair opposite her. “I met a girl. The girl.”
Her eyes raise and she sets her Kindle aside. “The girl?”
I nod, launching into how I met Myra, how I went to her place last night. “She makes mean fried chicken and the best sweet tea I’ve ever tasted.”
Grandma laughs softly. “You always did have an appetite.”
“It’s more than the food, though. It’s the way she makes me feel. When I was with her, I saw a future.”
“What are you doing here then, talking to me? I want to meet this girl.”
I groan, explaining how I left her place. “I wasn’t meaning to upset her. I wanted to see if she would take this chance with me. Go to L.A. for a few months.”
“Did you invite her explicitly?”
“No,” I say with a sigh. “But God, I’m going to. I came here to ask you for something. Something I know you’ve kept tucked away for me all these years. It’s time.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “I know without a shadow of a doubt Myra is the one for me.”
My grandma wipes a tear from her eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Major. But listen, you need to tell her that — not me.”
Myra
After Major leaves, I shower, cry my eyes out and wonder what in the world I was thinking. So what if he needs to leave for a few months for work? If he loves me and I love him, we can make long-distance work. Heck, we could make anything work.
I call my friend Lucia, who I met because she makes deliveries at the garden center. “Hey,” I say when she picks up. “So think I made a massive mistake.”
Lucia laughs softly. “Awww, Myra, what happened?” She’s the kind of girl who never judges. Even when I told her about my past, she gave me a big hug and told me I was stronger than I gave myself credit for. Right now, I could use one of her pep talks. “Tell me what happened.”
I tell her all about the night I shared with Major… how I felt alive for the first time in my life.
“And then you just told him to leave?”
Tears fill my eyes as I pull the pitcher of sweet tea out of my fridge. “What do I do now?”
“Well, I’ve never been in love,” she says. “So take this with a grain of salt. But when my brother fell in love with Mirabella, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make her his.”
“So I need to make it clear that he is all I want?”
“You tell me, Myra.”
An idea sparks. “You’re right. This is my life. I need to take charge and if it’s Major I want, I need to make sure he knows it.”
“Call me later and let me know how it goes, okay?” Lucia says.
“Of course. And thank you for being here for me.”
“Always.”
I hang up and get to work. Last night I made Major a home-cooked meal, but I want him to know he is more than my comfort food. He is my comfort.
* * *
By the time the pie has cooled and I have dried my hair, put on makeup and made myself presentable, I’ve rehearsed what I am about to say nearly a hundred times. I’ve texted Grady for Major’s home address and know what I need to do.
I pick up the pie and head for the door, but as I open it, I’m shocked to see Major is coming up my sidewalk.
“Major?” I walk outside, into my green grass, the clover growing thick around my sandaled feet and the sun shining bright overhead. “What are you doing here?”
“I came for you, Myra. I know you told me to leave this morning, but I can’t go anywhere if it’s not with you.”
“What are you saying?”
He pulls out a bag from the grocery store. He opens it, showing me what’s inside. A dozen lemons.
“I know I’m not perfect, and neither is life. We’re gonna have our sour days, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make sweet tea with you every chance I get.”
My eyes widen and my heart swells. “God, you know how perfect you are?”
He chuckles. “I’m far from it, sweetie.”
“But look,” I say. “I made you a lemon pie. And I know they say Southern girls are made of sunshine and sweet tea, but Major, I’m made for you.”
“Well damn, darling, that’s the most beau-tea-ful thing I’ve ever heard.” He takes the pie and sets it on the porch, and rests the bag of lemons beside it. “I love you, Myra. And I want to go to L.A. for this job, but only if you come with me. As my wife.”
“Your wife?” I cover my mouth as Major Owens drops to one knee.
He pulls a diamond ring from his pocket and offers it to me. “Marry me, Myra. Be my Southern peach for now and forever.”
“Oh my heart,” I say, tears filling my eyes. I am taking a leap, taking a chance on love, and I’ve never felt more sure of anything. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He slips the ring on my finger and I gasp. It’s beautiful, an antique diamond on a gold band. “It was my grandma’s.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” I tell him as he stands, wrapping his arms around me.
“Well, why don’t we bring her some of that pie and introduce her to the girl of my dreams, the love of my life, my one and only sweetie?”
He kisses me then and I swoon all over again, knowing I like my tea sweet and my men strong. Knowing I will always love the man who is holding me in his arms.
Epilogue 1
Major
Six months later…
“I can’t believe it was done in time,” Myra says, taking in the custom home we had built on the lake. “Beckett must have worked day and night to make that happen.”
“He’s a great general contractor,” I say, running my hand over the countertop in the kitchen. “And considering how busy his year was, with his baby and falling in love… damn, busy man.”
“Sounds like another man I know…” Myra licks her lips.
“Yeah?” I step toward my wife, her big baby bump between us. She is due any day now a
nd it’s a good thing the house was finished in time. I know it was making her anxious, wanting everything to be done and just so before the twins arrive.
Yes. Twins. We were in L.A. for three months before she told me the news… and when we went to the doctor and found out there were two heartbeats, we practically fainted — both of us.
From happiness.
Because damn, I thought tossing the pigskin out on the field was what dreams were made of, but it turns out my real dreams are wrapped up in this woman, in building a life with her.
“Trudy won’t be here for a few hours for the baby shower, right?” Myra says, looking at the clock on the stove. “Which means we have time to—”
I don’t wait for her to finish the sentence. I pull my wife into my arms and kiss her hard. “God, I love you,” I moan between kisses. Then I lift her cute ass onto our brand-new countertop and hike up her dress. “No panties?” I groan. “You make me insane. You know that, right?”
She giggles. “I was hoping this was how we’d pass the time. Once the babies come, everything is going to change.”
“Not everything,” I say. “You will always be my priority, Myra. And we still have a few months before they arrive.”
She braces herself on the counter as I spread her knees. God, her pussy is sweet. “Good, that means more time for this.”
She purrs as I dip my mouth to her sweet cunt, licking her the way she loves, up and down her creamy slit until she is whimpering, my name on her lips.
“God, you’re nice and wet,” I say, teasing her pussy with my fingers before running my tongue over her clit, teasing her nub until she is begging me to finish.
“I’m so close,” she moans. “Make me come, Major. Make me come hard.”
I won’t make my sweetie wait. I pick her up in my arms and carry her to the bedroom. We have a four-poster bed and a big bay window facing the water, but I don’t care about the view right now. I only care about her.
She is on her back. I kneel before her, my finger flicking her clit until she is gripping the bedsheets. “Let me see your cock, please. Let me taste it.”
“Not yet, Myra,” I say, “I need more of you first.” I breath her cunt in, my cock rock hard and ready, twitching to life with anticipation. But I need more of her sweetness first. I press a finger inside her, then another, ramming my fingers into her until she is shaking, gushing, begging me to take her over the edge. Oh, I’ll take her anywhere she wants to go.
I finger fuck her nice and hard until her juicy pussy releases everything she held back and when she comes, she is loud. I laugh, loving the sound of my girl’s laughter. Feeling like a lucky fool to have that sound ringing through my home for the rest of my life.
I pull her to her knees, and she gets on all fours, her swollen belly resting on a pillow as I run my fingers over her slick folds and then ease my cock home.
“Oh yes,” she moans as I fill her up. I grin. My cock is hungry, but my heart is damn near satisfied.
Myra is more than my sweet-tea, more than my sunshine. She’s my goddamn heart and soul.
Epilogue 2
Myra
Five years later…
I exhale a sigh of relief.
Every picnic table is filled, the weather is gorgeous, and everyone is ordering extras.
A smile spreads across my face as I look around my restaurant. My restaurant! Who would have thought? Well, maybe Grandma Maylene. I feel like the luckiest girl to have all my dreams come true.
But as I look around the outdoor seating, I see table after table of true love stories, ones that happened before our very eyes. Georgie and Grady, my old boss, are here with their newborn daughter. Trista and Trent are sitting with Bailey and Billy. Vance and Valerie are here too, which means a lot. Valerie owns a local diner and she gave me lots of pointers when I started planning this opening.
“Looks like your gym buddies all made it,” I say to Major as he pauses to give me a quick kiss. He is holding a stack of menus and a tablet to take orders. I must admit this hulk of an athlete looks pretty damn cute in an apron.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, squeezing my ass.
“I was just thinking about how lucky we are.”
“Damn right, baby. But I got to go get these sweet tea orders filled. And you better get your ass in the kitchen, I just put in four more orders for your famous fried chicken.”
I laugh. “Didn’t realize you were so demanding.”
He lifts he eyebrows and chuckles. Leaning in, he says, “Well, I remember how demanding you were in the bedroom last night.”
Heat rides to my cheeks. “I needed to let off steam. I’ve been a nervous wreck about this grand opening.”
“And look, all that worry for nothing. Sweet Tea and Sunshine is off to a perfect start, wouldn’t you say?”
I smile, on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around my husband for a lingering kiss even though I know there is plenty of work to be done.
“I love you, Major. Thank you for all the support — on the floor and in the bedroom.”
“You did the same for me when I started my podcast a few years ago.”
I nod, remembering how jittery he was to take the leap and start a sports podcast. He doesn’t need to work — we are lucky that his career in the NFL provided us with so much — but he loves talking football, and it’s a great job considering we have two rambunctious boys who need their daddy’s attention.
“Maybe when we get home tonight I can help you relax… you’ve been on your feet all day,” Major says, his hot breath on my ear.
I lick my lips. Nothing sounds sweeter than that.
Just then, Grandma Trudy arrives with the twins, and they run up to us with bright smiles on their faces. Granger and Gordy beam up at me and my heart swells.
“We brought you roses, Mama,” Gordy says, offering me a bouquet.
“Grandma said to say we’re proud of you,” Granger adds, wrapping his arms around my legs.
I laugh, ruffling their hair. “The roses are perfect. And they’re my favorite kind.”
Trudy gives me a warm hug of congratulations. “Now don’t you mind us,” she says. “Pretend we’re customers.”
I laugh, knowing I need to get back to the kitchen. I left Georgia with nothing — no family, no faith in love — and I found it all right here.
I give Trudy another hug, thanking her for watching the boys, and I’m grateful she is healthy. She’s been in remission for five years now.
Then Major takes my hand, pulling me to the kitchen. I pass the display case of lemon pies topped with whipped cream. I want to pull him into the supply closet and have my way with him.
Later, I will. With I smile, I think I’ll bring the whipped cream into the closet with us. Why should sweet tea get all the fun? With Major and me, there is sugar damn near everywhere.
The Way To A Man’s Heart Book 9
MY BUTTER HALF
I’ve spent my life in the stuffy corporate world.
So when I see Lucia delivering milk and butter from her farm, it’s like a breath of fresh air.
But this darling farm girl is wholesome in ways I’m not.
She’s my butter half, that’s for certain.
And I want to do more than butter her biscuit. I want all of her. Forever.
I may be twenty years older than this sweet thing, but I say butter late than never.
Dear Reader,
Logan is all grown up with one thing on his mind: Lucia.
He’s ready to spread the love because he knows they’re butter together than a part.
You ready to melt, babycakes?
Xo, frankie
On Amazon: The Way To A Man’s Heart Series
About the Author
Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men.
As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters.
; She also believes in the power of a quickie.
Find Frankie here:
www.frankielove.net
Hey Sweet-Tea: The Way To A Man’s Heart Page 3
