Scrumptious: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Camos and Cupcakes Book 3)

by Melissa Schroeder

  I make it to her door and ring the doorbell, then let myself in. The two nurses working, Betty and Sheila, are ones I recognize and have been around for a while. Probably by design. I take in the scene, my grandmother’s glazed look, and her agitated state as she smacks Betty on the arm. Betty remains calm, as does Sheila, who notices me first.

  “Look, Pam, there’s Fritz right now,” Sheila says.

  My grandmother blinks, her gaze trying to focus on me.

  “Hey, Grannie Pam. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I was working at the cupcake shop today.”

  “Fritzy?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I would have brought you a cupcake, but I had to rush over here. I heard you were worried about me.”

  “Fritzy? Where is your uniform?”

  Sheila and Betty fade away, moving slowly so they don’t agitate her. I walk to her slowly, my heart weeping. This woman has always been the keeper of my secrets, always telling my sisters and I that we could do anything we wanted. To watch her when she has an episode like this, it just hurts my soul. Her gaze is a little crazy, her fear easy to see.

  “I left the Army a few years ago, remember?”

  “You did?”

  Her hair is a mess, which isn’t that uncommon when she has a spell. Usually, she keeps it so tidy.

  I nod as I step closer. “Remember? Ed, Harry, and I opened our cupcake shop.”

  For the first time since I stepped into the room, she seems to truly focus on me, the glazed look fading a bit. “Camos and Cupcakes.”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  “I…”

  She looks around the living room, which is kind of a mess. Papers are on the floor and it looks like she dropped her glass on the floor. Thankfully, it’s carpeted so it didn’t break.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, hey,” I say as I watch her eyes fill up with tears. “Things happen. Some days can be bad.”

  I wrap my arms around her and tuck her close. We rock back and forth for a minute or two.

  “I got so confused, Fritzy.”

  “Shh,” I murmur, kissing her temple. She’s so tiny in my arms, this woman who not only raised three of her own children but stepped up when my mom needed help. “Everything’s okay.”

  Betty picks up the glass and ice cubes while Sheila grabs a paper towel to blot up the mess.

  I mouth a ‘thank you’ to them as they walk past us to leave. I urge Grannie Pam over to the couch, where I help her sit, then I sit beside her. She lays her head against my shoulder as guilt hits me hard. I saw her on Monday, but after the weekend of visitors, I should have known she might have a spell. Savannah and I had planned on coming tomorrow afternoon, but I should have come over Wednesday or Thursday night.

  “I hate when this happens.”

  I nod. During the few major episodes she’s had the last few months, she always feels guilty.

  “I know, Grannie Pam.”

  She pulls back and looks at me. “You’re a good boy.”

  “Only because I had the best grandma a boy could have.”

  She smiles but sadness tinges the edges of it. I hate that she will start to have more of these moments over the next few years. Best case scenario, she has maybe three lucid years left.

  “I must look a mess.”

  “Not any more than Avery after she goes on a sugar binge.”

  Another smile, this one less sad.

  “I need to wash my face and comb my hair.”

  I nod and stand up. I help her to her bathroom and wait outside, checking my messages.

  Harry: Is Grannie Pam okay?

  Me: Yeah. She apparently thought we were still deployed.

  Harry: Man, that’s tough. EJ says we need to go see her when she’s feeling up to it.

  I have the best friends. Grannie loves both Ed and Harry, and she adores EJ and Allison.

  Harry: EJ texted Savannah so she knows not to expect you anytime soon.

  Damn. Yeah, our date needs to be put on hold.

  Me: Thanks.

  Harry: No problem. Also, I asked Frank to come in tomorrow. If I see your face around here, I will punch it.

  Me: LOL, okay.

  I send off a group family text to update them on what happened, and how Grannie Pam is doing. They are, of course, concerned, but happy that it seems to be a relatively mild one.

  Then, I text my apologies to Savannah.

  Me: I guess EJ texted you about Grannie Pam. I’m sorry we will have to postpone our date.

  I hear a noise that sounds like a cell phone text tone in the hall, then a soft knock.

  I hurry to the door and open it. I lose my breath. Savannah is standing in the hallway, looking so cute in a Hulk t-shirt and jean shorts. Her hair is kind of a mess, probably because of the wind outside. Then I notice that she’s holding McLovin’s carrier.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “Hey. Come on in.”

  “I should have texted before I came, but I thought Grannie Pam would want to see McLovin.”

  I shut the door and stare at her.

  “I figure I could set his carrier down and you could bring him home. I don’t want to upset her anymore.”

  “Savannah,” my grandmother says. “How nice of you to come see me.”

  “Oh, hello, Pam. I thought you might want to see McLovin. Why don’t you let Fritz help you to the couch and then I’ll hand McLovin to you?”

  I do as she suggests, and she pulls McLovin out of the carrier.

  “Here you go. He’s been missing you.”

  She sets him on Grannie Pam’s lap. Grannie Pam pulls him into her arms. Just that act seems to soothe the rest of her irritation away and her shoulders relax. McLovin lets her cuddle him.

  “Thank you, Savannah,” Grannie Pam says.

  “You’re welcome. Well, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Oh, don’t go yet,” Grannie Pam says.

  “Yeah, stay,” I say.

  She looks at me. “Are you sure?”

  She isn’t mad, but worried about Grannie Pam. She raced from her house—probably the moment EJ texted—and made sure my grandmother had her cat. She doesn’t give a damn that I’m having to cancel our date. Instead, she’s here to support me.

  And in that moment, I feel my heart tumble down into her hands. She has no idea I’m in love with her, but that doesn’t matter. I am, for the first time in my adult life, in love with a woman. The woman. The one I want to spend the rest of my days with.

  I nod. “Yeah, why not stay for a while?”

  “Sounds good.”

  I sit in the chair because McLovin is giving me the evil eye, and Savannah sits next to my grandmother.

  So, on the night I was supposed to romance Savannah, I find myself romanced by Savannah as she talks to my grandmother. And right now, there is nowhere else I would want to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Fritz

  I let myself into the house just an hour or so before sunrise the next morning. I decided to sleep on Grannie Pam’s couch, in case she needed me during the night. She woke up this morning and kicked me out. I close the door, doing my best not to wake up Savannah.

  I turn and find McLovin sitting on the bottom stair. He’s watching me, his tail twitching behind him.

  “What?”

  He cocks his head as if he is judging me. I have no doubt that he’s judging me. Asshole. And now I know I need sleep. I start to move past him to head back to my room, but he meows. I stop and look at him. He’s watching me, his green gaze weighing me in some way that is totally beyond me. Then, he turns and starts up the stairs. I watch as he stops halfway up and looks down at me, then meows again. He waits, not moving and I realize he wants me to follow him.

  I should head to my own bedroom. Since I’m not working today, I planned on sleeping, then taking Savannah out for that date we missed. But, I can’t. Maybe something is wrong with Savannah. Maybe McLovin is worried and wants me to check on her. And yes, I’m using
my grandmother’s asshole cat as an excuse to go to Savannah’s room. Once I make the decision though, I don’t hesitate.

  I step into her room and look for McLovin. He’s in the chair I sat in the other day, curled up with his eyes closed. I look over at the bed and see Savannah, hugging her pillow, her face serene in sleep. I slip off my shoes and socks and continue to undress as I walk toward her. Once I am in my boxers, I settle on the mattress next to her and snuggle up behind her. God, she feels so good there, smells even better. I slide my hand over her waist and pull her tight against me. This is it. Home. I haven’t even fucked her and she’s all I want in the world. Coming home to her is the best thing to happen to me in years. Her hair is in my face, her body pressed against mine, and I react. Hell, I was half hard before I sat down on the mattress. But with the warmth of her body and her spicy scent teasing me, my dick fully hardens.

  She stirs, pressing her ass back against me. I know she’s still asleep and doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she needs to stop. I can control myself around women, I can wait until we’re ready to move forward, but I’m tired and need comfort and, dammit, her round ass keeps moving against my cock. Fuck. I clamp down on her hips to get her to stop moving, then I hear a suspicious snort. Why the little…

  “Savannah?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Stop pretending you were asleep.”

  She moves away from me and I want to immediately pull her back. She turns to face me.

  “How’s Grannie Pam?”

  “She’s fine. She kicked me out this morning.”

  Savannah chuckles, the sound of it sinking into my soul, sparking heat within me. She doesn’t laugh that often, but when she does—and I am the cause of it—I feel as if I own the world.

  “McLovin wanted me to come up here.”

  “Hmm.” She snuggles up against me and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her flush with my body again. There is no way I can hide my hard-on, but she doesn’t comment on it.

  “Tired?” she asks.

  “Yeah. I slept on the couch.”

  She doesn’t respond to that, other than to rest her head against my chest. I think she’s fallen back asleep, but then I feel her tongue on my flesh. The feel of it zings through me, sending my need soaring.

  “Stop.”

  She snorts again and ignores me, moving her mouth over my chest and nibbling at my flesh.

  “Seriously, Savannah.”

  She leans back. “Why?”

  “I’m tired.”

  Okay, so that even sounded lame to me. I mean, I have the sexiest woman in the world snuggled up against me, I might just come from a little heavy petting, and she has her mouth on me. Why should I be fighting this? What man in his right mind would fight this?

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You think I’m lying about being tired?”

  She leans back, one eyebrow cocked. “Have you ever been too tired for sex?”

  I’m sure there were times…during basic training, maybe through patrols in Afghanistan…but I can’t remember that right now. Mainly because all of the blood that occupied my brain has traveled south.

  “Or maybe you just don’t want me anymore?” She pouts and, usually, I hate that kind of shit. But, damn, she’s teasing me, and I can’t resist her like this. She’s warm and sweet, and fucking beautiful. I lean down and suck on her bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth and grazing my teeth over it. She’s watching me, her golden hazel eyes heavy with sleep and desire and, Jesus, I want to tell her how I feel. This need I have for her is beyond anything I have dealt with before, but it is well beyond that.

  But I don’t.

  Mainly because she will think I’m a psycho. Maybe I am.

  She slides her leg over my hip and presses against me. She isn’t wearing much, just a tank top and panties. I can feel the heat of her core against my dick and, well…I don’t truly want to admit I almost come at that moment. But I deepen the kiss, taking her lips in an almost bruising intensity. I urge her back so that I can be on top of her. But I move away from the kiss and down her body, kissing her, nipping at her flesh.

  I fist the fabric of her top and shove it up, revealing her amazing breasts. Not too big, but just the right size. I graze first one nipple, then the other, then begin working my way down her body, nuzzling the underside of her breast, and kissing a path down her belly.

  I slip my fingers beneath her panties and ease them down her legs. Now, I’m where I have wanted to be. I’ve dreamed of this moment since Sunday night, wanting to do nothing but keep my head buried between her legs 24/7. I place a hand on each of her thighs, urging them apart. I take a deep breath and then sigh in happiness.

  “Best smell in the world.”

  “Fritz.” There is embarrassment in her voice, and I look up at her. Even in the dark room, I can tell she’s embarrassed.

  “You should never be embarrassed by your need.”

  She says nothing but stares down at me. Hazel eyes, wild dark hair, the most amazing woman in the world. At least to me she is, and I need her to understand. To comprehend what she means to me. I am not good with poetry, but I’m excellent in action.

  I dip my head and take a taste of her. Salt and sugar dance over my taste buds. She shudders against my mouth, and I press her legs further apart. I’m beyond hard, my cock begging for relief, but I want to make this last. I want her to come on my face and then my cock. I want this all, and I am a greedy bastard who is accustomed to getting what I want. I slip my fingers between her folds as I tease her clit. Restlessly she squirms against the mattress as she tries to press up against my face, trying to gain some traction. I fight her, because I want the control this time around. I want to make sure she gets the full treatment, and to do that, she needs to let go.

  Adding another finger to her tight pussy, I curl my digits up inside of her as I pull her clit into my mouth. I control the rhythm, taking her right to the edge, but pulling her back from that edge again and again. Her moans had gone from low murmurs to full-throated demands. I would laugh if I wasn’t so fucking hard. I can be honest and say there is a slight chance I might just come in my boxers if I’m not careful. She’s sexy but that’s not what this is all about. Need courses through me, pushing me to urge her closer and let her fall into pleasure. I take her clit between my teeth, just as I curl my fingers inside of her once more, she explodes. She screams my name as she bucks up against my mouth riding my fingers.

  She’s falling back down to earth when I realize there are no condoms. Mine are all downstairs.

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  She chuckles, the sound of it racing over my skin, teasing my senses. “Not yet, but I hope soon.”

  Her throaty voice is even deeper now. I’m barely able to think once I hear it, but she’s looking at me. “What?”

  “You’re not really just sitting there. What upset you?”

  Condoms. Fuck, I am an idiot.

  “Be right back. Need condoms.”

  “No worry. I stole one of your boxes.”

  I frown as she rolls over and pulls out a box. They are my brand and size. I look at her. “I saw some the other day and I thought maybe I should make sure they were available up here.”

  “I don’t have boxes. I have a box.” Okay, two, but that’s because there was only one left in the other box.

  I take the box from her, rip it open, and pull out a condom. I toss the box on her bedside table. She giggles and I stop moving. Okay, I’m acting like a virgin his first time with a woman and definitely not the man whore my friends claim I am. But, when she laughs like that, I can feel it everywhere. It dances over the air to me, making me happy and filling my soul with peace.

  “What?” she asks, because I am kneeling on her bed, a condom in my hand, and, Jesus, she is gorgeous. Bottom heavy tits, flared hips, and that treasure between her legs.

  “I…I’m usually smoother.”

  She looks up at me through her lashes and then offers
me a teasing smile. “Is that a fact, Fritzy?”

  Okay, so my family nickname shouldn’t make me harder, but apparently anything she says to me makes me hard. She could probably say ‘I’m going to stab you in the heart after you come,’ and as long as she said my name somewhere in there, I would be fucking hard.

  She rises and presses her hand against my dick. I’m still wearing my boxers, but the head of my penis is visible. Moisture drips from the slit, and I know if I let her play too much, she’ll still be a virgin afterwards. So, I bat her hands away.

  “Stop.”

  She chuckles as I tug my boxers down my legs. My cock springs free. I take it by the base and give myself a stroke before opening the condom package, then rolling it on. I urge her back on the mattress as I press my mouth over hers. I slip my tongue over her plump lips, then inside the warm recesses of her mouth. God, she tastes good. Always. Everywhere.

  I pull back. “You’re sure?”

  “Absofuckinglutely.” Then she gives me another kiss, this time she steals inside with her tongue, sliding it alongside of mine. Just that action has my entire body shaking.

  I take my cock into my hand and line it up with her slit. I ease into her, groaning with pleasure. She’s so fucking tight, wrapping around my dick. I pull out then ease back in a few more inches. And she shivers against me. I pull back, then thrust in all the way to the hilt. She might squeeze me to death. I hold myself still, waiting, wondering if I was too rough.

  “Savannah.”

  She opens her eyes, desire shimmering in the hazel depths. I keep my gaze locked with hers as I pull out then back in again.

  “Oh, fuck, Fritz.”

  “So tight, Savannah,” I mutter. “So perfect. Like a fucking velvet glove.”

  I continue at an easy pace. I want this to be perfect, the kind of thing she will remember for the rest of her life for all the right reasons. No matter how deep I press into her, I don’t think I’ll ever be close enough. Not with her, not ever. I rise to my knees, placing my hands on her hips, dragging her with me. Here, I can go a little deeper and god, she’s coming. Her walls are convulsing around my dick, pulling my orgasm from me. I grit my teeth, wanting to make this last longer. She bucks up against me and I can’t hold back any more. I come so hard, I see stars, slamming into her once…twice….fuck me. I hold myself against her, deep inside of her tight, juicy pussy. When I’m spent, I fall on top of her and she chuckles, wrapping her arms around me. Fuck, that was…