The Way To A Man’s Heart: Books 1-10

by Love, Frankie

  “Just promise that when your go through the next thin phase, you’ll let me know what is going on. So I can be there for you.”

  I nod, blinking back tears. “I promise.”

  “No crying on my watch,” she says. “Now get out there and marry the man of your dreams.”

  I pull her in for one last hug and then walk down the aisle toward Grady. The only man I’ve ever loved.

  * * *

  He spins me around the dance floor, his strong arms wrapped around me, and all our friends and family are here supporting us. “You are such a beautiful bride,” he says, his breath hot on my ear.

  “Don’t whisper too many sweet nothings or I’ll have to drag you off this dance floor.”

  He chuckles. “Guess I’ll start talking dirty and see what happens.”

  “First we have to cut the cake,” I say as the song ends. He takes my hand and we walk to the cake that our friend Jessa designed. She said it was the most challenging cake she’s ever made.

  It’s three tiers, but instead of fluffy cake, it’s red watermelon slices stacked one on top of another. The dessert is covered in whipped cream and fresh blueberries, kiwis and peaches.

  Grady slices it and I shake my head, laughing. “Don’t you dare shove that in my mouth!”

  Instead of making a mess, we offer one another bites as our guests cheer and the photographer snaps photos. Red juice slides down Grady’s chin and I lean in, kissing him.

  Already thinking about doing so much more.

  * * *

  By the end of the day, we’ve danced, eaten, posed for hundreds of photos, and smiled our butts off.

  But I’m not tired. I’m ready for our wedding night.

  “I’m still surprised you didn’t want to rent a honeymoon suite at a hotel downtown,” Grady says after the last guest has said goodbye, leaving us alone in his garden. Well, our garden now. I moved into his house a week ago.

  “I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t need fancy. I just want real. I want us. And besides, I like our bedroom.”

  After we got engaged, Grady took me to his house and I saw firsthand that the perfect man I was marrying had a dirty secret of his own. He didn’t make his bed and had plenty of clothes littering his floor. It was refreshing, to say the least. And my ideal man just became that much sexier.

  And we made a plan. We decided to hire a housecleaner to come once a week and help us keep the place a bit tidier.

  So now, as Grady lifts me into his arms and carries me upstairs to our room, I know the bed has been freshly made. But as he carries me over the threshold, I don’t expect to see our bedroom turned into a fairytale.

  Candles are everywhere, lit and washing the room in a soft glow. There is a new bed in the middle of the room with a white canopy, and a trail of rose petals lead us.

  “It looks made for a princess.”

  “It has been,” Grady says. “It was made for you.”

  I blink back tears, the love I have for him spilling down my cheeks.

  “I didn’t plan on making you cry, baby,” he says, wrapping me in his arms.

  “They are happy tears. You love me despite my flaws. You love me as I am. And you make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.”

  “No one is perfect, Georgie. But you are perfect for me.”

  I strip my husband of his clothes, and he unbuttons me from my delicate dress. Naked, together, we climb into bed. My heart flutters with love as he moves on top of me, spreading my knees and making me whimper with desire.

  “I love you, Grady,” I whisper as his thickness begins to fill me. I close my eyes. My dreams have all come true. I made plenty of mistakes along the way but they brought me here, to him.

  “I love you more,” he says, kissing me tenderly as he draws me close, cradling me in his arms as we make love as husband and wife.

  He says I can fly, that he will always catch me. But I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay in Grady’s arms forever.

  Epilogue 2

  Grady

  Five Years Later…

  We’re in our bed and Georgie spoons against me, her bare ass grinding against my morning wood, and God, my cock is aching for the sweet relief my wife’s pussy.

  I run my hand over her pregnant belly, kissing her shoulders as she stirs. She rolls over, her eyes meeting mine. “Someone woke up happy,” she says, running her hand under the waist of my boxers. I groan as she strokes me, and I run my fingers over her entrance.

  Her eyes are closed, a smile on her face. “Am I still dreaming?”

  “Were you having more sex dreams?” I ask her and she pulls out my cock, licking her lips.

  “I was dreaming about sucking you off,” she tells me, biting her bottom lip. “About you making me come.”

  She turns around, offering me a perfect view of her ass. I squeeze those round cheeks as she dips her mouth to my cock, licking my shaft, and I feel like the goddamn luckiest man alive.

  And soon I will be a father.

  My cock is so rigid as she sucks me, and I need more of her. I run my fingers between her legs, feeling her ripe, wet pussy, and I stroke her nice and slowly until she is squirming under my hand.

  “You like that, baby?” I ask as she bobs her head up and down, eager to taste my salty seed.

  She takes me deeper in her throat, and I know I’m close. My hand stills as my cock erupts, sending that thick come down her throat.

  She swallows me seed… she was never one to spit.

  My cock may be satisfied, but my mouth isn’t. I need to taste her the way she’s tasted me. I ease my baby onto her back and spread her thighs, dipping my mouth to her creamy cunt and licking her nice and good. My tongue swirls over her clit, and she wraps her legs around my head, lifting her ass as I suck her the way she needs.

  She is so juicy, so damn ready, that it doesn’t take long before my girl is crying out in pleasure, my fingers circling her folds as she comes, dripping for me like the very first night we made love.

  She was such an innocent virgin that night, but now she is pure woman — a woman who knows her body, what she likes, what she loves… and she loves to get off.

  “I need to fuck you, Georgie. I need to fuck you hard.”

  She licks her lips, moving to all fours. “I love it when you talk dirty,” she moans as I squeeze her ass cheeks, slipping my hand between her legs as I kneel behind her, ready to sink my cock into her sweet slit.

  I fill her up, plunging deep inside her, ready to make her come again. She leans back, and I take hold of her tits. They are so full now that she’s pregnant.

  “God, I love your melons,” I growl in her ear, hungry for her tight pussy to take every inch of me.

  “Oh, Grady,” she pants as she takes me fully. God, I love my girl. I thrust against her nice and slow, with the force I know she likes, penetrating her so deep she calls out my name in pleasure, coming hard. “Yes, oh, yes, yes.”

  I come too, inside her sweetness, loving the way she feels against me, and she falls on her back, spent from the morning quickie.

  I run my hand over her belly, so full and round.

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” I say, blissed out and so damn in love.

  “It’s crazy to think she grew from a tiny seed into this. I bet she’s gonna be ten pounds.”

  “Are you nervous?” I ask Georgina, facing her in bed.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not nervous. Just excited. Making a life with you was the best decision I ever made. This little girl is going to be the icing on the watermelon cake.”

  I lean over and kiss Georgie’s baby bump. “So, what are you up to today?”

  Georgie sighs. “I have edits to finish. I need them done before the baby comes.”

  I nod, so proud of my wife. She is working on finishing her second novel. She’s nervous about it, considering her debut novel was such a success. Turns out her drama with Karen was perfect material for a suspense novel about a female friendship gon
e wrong, a pyramid scheme, and a gardener who knew more than he should have.

  “I’ll be at the shop, but if you need anything, I can always run home.”

  “Hmmm, you know…” Georgie twists her lips.

  “I know that look. You need something now.”

  “I’m just craving a slice of something sweet and juicy.”

  I chuckle. “I know what you want. I’ll be sure to bring home a watermelon.”

  “Thanks Grady, you know, you really are one in a—”

  I cut her off with a kiss. Screw the melons. This girl is my once in a lifetime.

  Hey Sweet-Tea

  The Way To A Man’s Heart Book 8

  By Frankie Love

  I’m back home with an NFL career as busted as my knee.

  My plans were dashed with one injury, but the moment I see Myra I think she might be my cure.

  She’s a Southern girl who knows how to cook and I’ve got a hankering for some comfort food.

  This sweet-tea is just what the doctor ordered.

  Dear Reader,

  Major is guil-tea as charged.

  Don’t worry, this alpha isn’t fixin’ to commit a crime…

  but he is ready to commit to Myra.

  This one’s fast, flirty, and naugh-tea as ever!

  xo, frankie

  Chapter One

  Major

  I’ve never liked attention. And so, when I moved back to my hometown a few months ago, I started wearing a ball cap and keeping my eyes down. Most people still know it’s me. Hell, I grew up here, played football for the high school team before I was drafted into the NFL.

  And yes, I’m grateful for the career I had, but damn, it kills me when people bring it up. I’ll be walking my dog, Madden, and someone will stop and ask for a selfie, my autograph, my phone number even. All it does is remind me that I’m here — not on the field. And the sad truth is I’ll never return. Not in the way I dreamed about.

  So today, I keep my head down, per my new normal, as I walk into Grady’s Garden Shop. He doesn't seem to be around, and so I browse the aisles myself.

  “Can I help you, sir?” someone with a Southern drawl asks.

  I turn, eyes raised. “Sir?” I chuckle. “I’m only twenty-six. Surely I’m not old enough to be a sir.”

  “Sorry,” the woman says. “I was just being polite. I can see now… I can see…” She stammers, clearly flustered. She’s a cute, curvy thing, with hair like honey and eyes like a blue-sky day. She’s wearing a green apron and a name tag.

  “No worries, Myra,” I say.

  “How did you know?” Her eyes widen, then she licks her lips — pink pouty ones — and smiles, pointing to her name tag. “Right. I’m Myra. And you are?”

  I run a hand over my jaw. Pleasantly surprised that she doesn’t know who I am. “I’m Major Owens.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Major. And what brings you in today?”

  I chuckle, relived that I don’t have to pose for a photo op with this sweet thing. She’s treating me like any old Joe — not the multi-millionaire I am.

  “I’m looking for some flowers. Fresh cut ones, actually. Which makes me think maybe I should have gone to a florist, not a garden supply shop.”

  She gives me a big smile that draws me into her orbit. God, she’s like a breath of fresh air. “I got you covered, Major. We have some bouquets up front. We get them from Lucia at Nettle Bank Farm. Would you like me to show you?”

  I clench my jaw, thinking I’d like her to show me a hell of a lot more than flowers. “Sure thing.”

  I follow her up front and see the display.

  “Any flower in particular?” she asks. “Are they for your sweetheart?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m single. They’re for my Grandma Trudy.”

  A warmth seems to wash over Myra. “That’s so thoughtful. Any granny would love fresh flowers from their grandson. Does she have a favorite?”

  I pull off my ball cap and scratch my head. “Roses, I suppose.”

  She nods, then bends over, and damn, her ass is round. My cock twitches as she eyes each rose bouquet. She picks one, and turns to me, her tits pushed together — and she asks what I think.

  “I think they look great,” I say, trying to fix my gaze on the flowers, not her breasts. But damn, it’s hard because they look so damn good.

  “Peach is my favorite rose color too.”

  “You a Southern peach?” I ask.

  She laughs. “I suppose I am. I just moved here from Georgia a month ago.”

  Myra

  He takes the roses from me, and I try to ignore the electricity I feel when our fingers brush. “Why’d you move across the country?” Major asks.

  I drop my gaze then, a shadow casting over the store. “Just needed a fresh start,” I say softly.

  “I just moved back myself,” he tells me.

  “You grew up here?”

  He nods. “Yeah, my Grandma Trudy raised me. Best woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Hence the flowers,” I say, pushing away my past. “Lucky woman.”

  Now it’s Major’s turn to frown. “In some ways, maybe. But she’s just fought cancer, she’s in remission now, and can’t do the things she loves for the time being.”

  I set a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know.”

  He gives me a smile. “Don’t apologize. Life is like that, isn’t it? Never how you expect.”

  Understanding the sentiment all too well, I nod. “My grandma always told me when life gives you lemons, make sweet tea.”

  “I like that.” Major’s eyes meet mine and we share a soft smile. “You love your grandma too?” he asks.

  I nod. “She passed a few years back.” Exhaling, I pull my eyes away from his deep green ones. “Gosh, that got heavy quickly.”

  “You scared of heavy?” he asks me.

  I laugh nervously. “To be honest, yeah. I am.”

  He nods. “Why did you move here?”

  “I pulled out a map of the USA and closed my eyes and waved my finger and here I am.”

  Major chuckles. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “So, you’re scared of things getting heavy, but you aren’t scared of starting over?”

  It’s my turn to chuckle. “I guess not. I just needed a fresh beginning.” Major smells the peach-colored roses and it endears me to him. “Is that why you moved back to town?”

  “Uh, something like that.” He seems to clam up and I wish I knew why.

  “Right. Well, should I ring you up?” I move to the cash register and he follows, the air between us thick with something I wish I understood.

  He pays quickly and I expect him to leave, but he pauses, his eyes finding mine again. “Would you like to go out sometime?” he asks.

  I fight the urge to say yes. Because in this moment, it’s what I want to say… but I made a promise to myself when I packed up my car and drove west — I wouldn’t let a man bruise any part of my body again, and I’d certainly never let one break my heart.

  And Major looks like a heartbreaker, through and through. He has all-American good looks, a charming smile and drool-worthy eyes. He’s tall — six foot five, easy — and when I touched his arm, it was solid muscle, pure panty-melting perfection.

  And a terrible idea.

  Not how a girl moves on.

  “Sorry, but I’m busy.”

  He frowns. “I didn’t even mention a time.”

  “Sorry Major, I’ve gotta get back to work.” And with that, I run down the aisle toward a customer. Yes, it’s cowardly —but it’s also self-preservation. And right now, that’s all I’ve got.

  Chapter Two

  Major

  Since moving back to town, I’ve started working out with some old buddies of mine. They are all members of a CrossFit gym, and so I joined too. Didn’t realize that in the last year, so many guys my age had gotten hitched. Makes me feel like I might be missing out.


  On a lot.

  I was an anomaly in the NFL world. Not that I would bring it up, but I’m a virgin with a capital V and I gotta admit — I’m ready to change that status. STAT.

  But it’s hard, ya know, after all this time. How do you go from zero to a hundred without it meaning something after waiting this long?

  Well, before today I didn’t have an answer but now, I do. Now I know. Myra is how I accelerate fast. With her, I wanna go all in.

  But damn, she turned me down fast.

  I need to know why.

  After our late afternoon workout, most of the guys at the gym are ready to head home to their wives, but when Grady asks if I want to grab a beer at O’Malley’s, I jump at the chance. I need to know more about his employee.

  “So, are you seeing anyone?” Grady asks as we walk to the bar down the street from the gym. I can tell this guy is getting fed up with his friends getting wifed-up.

  I chuckle. “Don’t get mad, but I was wondering what you knew about Myra.”

  “Myra? My Myra?”

  “Your Myra?” I laugh, pulling open the door to the bar. “I didn’t realize she was yours.”

  “She’s not. She’s just my employee. I feel, I don’t know, protective?”

  “I get it,” I say. “But do you know if she’s seeing anyone?”

  We grab beers from the bar and Grady shrugs. “Not that I know of. But I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Sounds good, man,” I say as we get a table. I want to press the issue, but I also get that Grady might genuinely not know the dating details of his employees.

  When his phone buzzes with an incoming text, I see his body language change from easy going to rigid in two seconds flat.