Sweet On You

by Evie Snow

  It had to be Rochelle. As she logged on to the dating app, Brea pictured exactly what she’d do to her sister when she saw her next. It was like that time Rochelle had secretly recorded Brea singing “Happy Birthday” to their cat and played it for everyone at school because she’d thought it would boost Brea’s confidence to have everyone know that Brea had a good singing voice. Brea still cringed at the memory of her music teacher handing her a triangle and telling her that maybe she should take up playing an instrument.

  The minute she logged in, she saw there were three read messages from Derek. Messages that Rochelle must have seen. She opened the first, seeing Derek’s question about whether or not she was serious, and then opened the second.

  A picture appeared on her screen.

  It took a second for Brea to focus, and then she dropped her phone in shock before scrambling to pick it up again. There, in full color, filling up the screen like a whole cucumber placed in the middle of an otherwise tame salad, was a man’s penis. A penis she’d recently been intimately acquainted with.

  Her stomach lurched. She scrolled down and saw the message beneath it.

  I’m not too comfortable about doing this, but since you asked . . . I hope you’re not disappointed.

  “Not too comfortable . . .” she said out loud. “Argh!”

  “Brea, are you okay in there?” Derek’s voice came through the door. “Because this situation is definitely making me uncomfortable. If you want me to leave, I can—”

  “No! Don’t leave! Please don’t leave. I’m so sorry, Derek, I’ll just be a moment,” Brea yelled while dialling her sister. Her fury was so hot she was sure she could hear the blood boiling in her veins.

  “Before you kill me, I had good reason,” Rochelle said the minute she picked up, obviously having anticipated this call.

  Brea thunked her head against the wall. “To ask him for a dick pic?!” Her voice was a furious hiss. “You asked my date for a dick pic?! I trusted you! The whole reason I left the phone with you was because I was worried I’d chicken out and send Derek something stupid. But then you go and ask him for a dick pic?!”

  “Because I thought it would help you.”

  Brea thunked her head against the door frame. “How?!”

  “Because then the ice would be broken. Plus, it was a way for me to check if he was right for you.”

  Rochelle’s voice had the same smarty-pants tone she’d once used when leaving Brea stranded at their high school without a ride because Brea had confessed she’d had a crush on a guy in her English class. Rochelle’s reasoning had been that Brea would need to ask him for a ride. What had actually happened was Brea walking home on a hot day, plotting murder the entire time.

  Brea squashed that memory down with all the others, her voice coming out in a growl of frustration—Rochelle should have been the last person she trusted with her phone. “How would that tell you if Derek was right for me? You’re like some junk matchmaking service? You’re my sister. Or you were my sister. I’m currently considering a divorce.”

  “Because of the way he reacted.” Rochelle’s tone implied Brea was ignorant for not guessing this already. “If he’d sent one straight through like he already had one ready on his phone, I’d know he was a player.”

  Brea counted backwards from ten. “That makes no sense. Idiots can take bad dick pics too. And why would you need to know if he’s a player? Since when do I date, or am attracted to, players? The only player I’ve ever dated was Darron Martin during senior year, and he played the trumpet and cheated on me with a guy. Anyway, who wants to see a guy’s junk without seeing the rest of him?! What if he goes around telling people that Brea who runs the candy store in Sanctuary is into asking men for dick pics?!”

  “Then you’ll get a whole lot more interest. Although, if I were you, I’d take advantage of what he’s got,” Rochelle retorted.

  “You actually looked at the picture?!”

  “I might have taken a peek. And I don’t know why you’re complaining. It’s not like it’s a bad picture, although he could have lit it better.”

  Brea had heard enough. “I can’t believe this!”

  “Yes, you can, because it’s me. And maybe what I did wasn’t all that smart, but I am pregnant. It could have been the baby hormones.”

  “Don’t you dare blame my unborn niece or nephew for this! It was all you. It’s always all you. And you’re right, this was definitely not smart. The opposite of smart. If you looked up ‘unsmart’ in the dictionary it would be a picture of you.”

  “‘Unsmart?’ Is that even a word?”

  Brea made a furious squeaking noise.

  “Calm down. You can’t be that upset if you’re angry. You’d be crying if it actually went wrong. Which meant it didn’t. Which means that you’re either calling me in front of him or you’ve left him on his own. Where are you exactly?”

  “I’m in the bathroom at my store.”

  “While a fine man like that is left on his own? How long have you been in there? Get out there before he runs away.”

  “This is not over, Rochelle!” Brea ended the call, swiftly pulled her dress over her head, tied it swiftly behind her neck without bothering to zip it and hurried from the bathroom, only to find Derek wasn’t there. She ran to the front of the store to find him with his hand on the doorknob.

  “Derek! Stop. Please.” She hurried over to take his hand in hers. “Please stay.”

  He turned, his expression wary. “Are you sure? Because that wasn’t the message I just got.”

  “It’s the message I want you to get. Stay.” She bit her lip, very aware she was standing in the front of her candy store with her dress still partially undone while Derek looked like he’d recently stepped out of a fashion shoot. “I really enjoyed being with you. A lot. I’ve got a confession to tell you, and once you hear it, you can decide to leave, but it would be great if you would . . . if you would hear me out.”

  Mortification burned her cheeks. He’d thought that she’d asked for that picture. And he’d taken it, even though his message had said he wasn’t comfortable. The whole thing left her embarrassed, but also inexplicably touched that he’d put himself so far out of his comfort zone. And given what they’d been doing only a few minutes ago, it was kind of a turn-on.

  “I’m listening.”

  Brea braced herself, hoping this wouldn’t be the moment she made the situation even worse. “Firstly, I want to tell you that I, um, know how hard it was for you to come to meet me and to take those pictures. It means a lot. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for me. Which sounds weird given that—” She looked down, realized her eyes were centering on Derek’s crotch and looked up quickly again.

  “I sent you a picture of my wiener,” Derek said flatly.

  She nodded. “I was really nervous about meeting you today. Really nervous, because, like I told you, something always goes wrong when I go out with guys. I wanted to stop myself from contacting you and cancelling our date, so I gave my phone to my sister, and—”

  “She was the one who sent the message?”

  She watched the play of emotions over Derek’s face and hurried to reassure him. “Yes. That’s who I was just calling, and, trust me, she’s in biiig trouble. Seriously big trouble. However, that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful you’d do something like that for me. No, wrong choice of words . . . or maybe right choice of words.”

  He was rubbing his temples. “Let me get this right. Your sister—who you gave your phone to—was the one who sent the message, and you had no idea of what had happened until now.”

  “Yes!” The word came out in a rush. “She seemed to think it would be an icebreaker. Ever since we were small, Rochelle’s always done stuff like this thinking she’s helping me out. There was one time that she recorded me singing to my cat and spread it around my school because she thought my singing was good when it was actually awful. Not that you want to know about that. But if it helps, she was kind of righ
t—we’ve definitely not had a boring time, and I really, really enjoyed myself with you. And this is all funny when you think about it. The absolute worst thing has happened, even worse than me getting parsley in my teeth or you freaking out about all those garden gnomes, and we’re still getting on great.” She gave him a hopeful smile, praying he’d see the lighter side of things.

  He was still massaging his temples. “Have you seen the pictures?”

  “Yes, although I didn’t get a very good look at the one I saw. I . . . do you want me to look at it properly now?” The minute she said the words she wished she could evaporate on the spot. “I didn’t just ask that. This is so awkward!”

  Derek nodded slowly. “So, when I arrived at your house and I thought we were talking about the pictures, you were talking about . . .”

  “The gnomes. I was worried they’d scare you off.”

  He took a while before speaking, and Brea watched what might either be the expression of a man about to cry or one about to laugh. She couldn’t be sure, but what she was sure about was that Rochelle was going to have to grovel before Brea agreed to do any babysitting over the next six months.

  When he finally spoke, Derek’s voice was husky, and his face broke into a rueful grin that showed both dimples in his cheeks. “I forgot about those.”

  “Well, that’s a positive!” Brea gave him a relieved smile. “Derek, I’m so sorry this happened, and if you want to end the date and never see me again, that would be your right. I’ll delete the pictures now in front of you so you know they’re gone, and . . . I’m so sorry. My sister owes you an apology, and I know she’ll give you one.” She looked down at her feet. “This is totally not funny, but it’s kind of ironic that the one time I’ve met a truly sexy and amazing man who gets me, something like this happens!”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head. “This is surreal.”

  “Yes, but think about it—we weren’t shy with each other because of the pictures and the gnomes. It’s like we managed to combine the two worst dating stories ever. I’m the crazy woman who had a garden full of gnomes, whose sister asked you to send a dick pic, and you—”

  “Sent the pictures thinking it was you, while my sister stood outside my bedroom door trying to give me advice. You’re not the only one with a pain-in-the-ass sister.”

  Brea’s burst of laughter escaped before she muffled it. “No! Advice?!”

  He rolled his eyes. “You would not believe. I was so stressed out about meeting you and what to do about your sister’s message that I made the mistake of telling Marlee when she and her husband came over for lunch today.”

  “No!”

  “Yeah. Which was a total mistake. She was the one who talked me into going through with it, and if I hadn’t convinced her husband, Sean, to stop her, she would have filmed her side of the story and put it on YouTube! She’s got this idea she’s helping me. She always has, and every time she’s ever tried—”

  “It always goes wrong? Tell me about it! That’s what Rochelle does with me.”

  “It’s the worst!” they both said in unison and burst out laughing.

  “Oh my gosh.” Brea reached for his hands, and he clasped hers, all the good feelings from earlier returning. “You know, I’m glad it happened, because if they hadn’t done what they did, we wouldn’t have met today. I would have chickened out and you—”

  “Wouldn’t have had the confidence to even hold a conversation with you let alone make love to you. Which was amazing. Thank you.”

  “No, thank you.”

  They both took a step forward, and suddenly it was like the past fifteen minutes had never happened. Within a matter of seconds, they were taking up where they’d left off earlier, with Brea’s hands all over Derek’s backside and Derek pushing Brea’s dress down again.

  “We’re not going to see that movie, are we?” Brea gasped when Derek kissed his way down her neck, gripping her hips and pulling her to him.

  “Probably not, but I don’t mind.”

  “Want to make love in a candy store again?”

  “Definitely.”

  “And afterwards, why don’t we both plan some sort of revenge on our sisters? . . Mmm, do that again.”

  “This?”

  “Mmhmm. Yeah, that.”

  “What sort of revenge?” Derek let out a low groan when Brea gave him back a little of what he was doing to her.

  “Why don’t we come up with a plan after? There’s something more important I’d like to get to first.” Brea pulled back, taking him by the hand and leading him through the store.

  “Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”

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  Copyright © 2018 by Georgina Penney & Anthony Johnson

  Cover Design © 2017 Louisa Maggio

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Acknowledgments

  Dear Reader, thanks so much for choosing to read Sweet On You. If you enjoyed, please don’t hesitate to let us know about it by emailing evie@eviesnow.com.

  Also, a huge thanks to Andrea Robinson for the amazing edits and to Louisa Maggio for the beautiful cover.

  To all of our amazing friends, thanks so much for the love and support you’ve given us on this crazy writing journey. We’d love to particularly thank to the glorious Seldon clan for putting up with us, Barbara Winmill, Katie Keith, Rhyll Biest and the ninja gals. Also a huge thanks to Vanessa Stubbs and Jo Clegg. If we’ve missed anyone, we promise to treat you to high tea the next time you’re in Scotland!

  About the Author

  Evie Snow is the pseudonym for a globe-trotting writing team working towards their very own Happily Ever After:

  Best-selling author Georgina Penney does the actual writing and reads far too many books.

  Her husband, Tony Johnson (AKA The Kraken) helps out with plot wrangling and is in charge of caffeine distribution.

  When not writing warm and funny contemporary romance, Georgina and Tony can currently be found roaming the world, hiking valiantly from café to tea shop in whichever country they’re visiting in a never-ending quest to find the perfect scone.

  www.eviesnow.net

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  California Dreaming

  Talkin’ The Talk

  Stuck On You

  Captured