Sweet Haven: An Enemies to Lovers Small Town Romance (The Sweet Series Book 2)
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Although, I hate to admit it but I did entertain the idea once years ago. It was shortly after he fucked Stephanie, but I came to my senses quick. And thank God for that. Because the thought of hurting her or causing her pain makes me sick to my stomach, especially now that I’ve gotten to know her.
“You’re right,” Jake says. “I do know you better. Just be prepared, because you know if Evans gets wind of this he’s going to think the same thing.”
I don’t care what that asshole thinks. He can mind his own fucking business, too.
“Can I say something?” Cam asks.
“No!” we all answer at once.
“Well, I’m going to fucking say it anyway,” he starts, talking over our groans. “I think it’s time you and Evans put this shit to rest. Now that Sam is involved someone is bound to get hurt, and I have a feeling it won’t be either of you.”
There will never be a truce between Evans and me. There’s too much history. Too much bad blood between us. We can’t erase what’s been done between us, but none of that has anything to do with Sam.
“I think that might have been one of the most intellectual things you’ve ever said, Phillips,” Austin says, breaking into my thoughts.
“Told you assholes I know what I’m talking about.”
Another round of chuckles fill the room but I remain silent, that deep-seated hate bubbling to the surface but I shove it back down.
For the next few weeks she’s mine and no one, including her brother, is going to stop me from soaking up every single minute I can with her.
CHAPTER 11
Sam
My thoughts are consumed with Jase as I sit on my lunch break in-between classes on Friday afternoon. Our time together hasn’t been long but it’s been more than I could hope for. If we’re not making love then he’s making me laugh or holding me in his strong arms until dawn breaks and it’s time for him to leave. Every moment spent with him is better than the last and it feels so…easy…natural even. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.
I guess we have but not like this. Not by touch or kiss. That’s all new but for some reason my heart remembers it—remembers something it never had. How is it possible to know someone’s touch before you ever felt it? I can’t explain it, and I don’t think I will ever be able to.
I know I need to keep my heart out of this but it’s getting harder. I can’t fall in love with him. I absolutely can’t. I’m moving and it’s something I’m not going to change my mind about. Besides, our families hate each other. I can’t imagine what a family dinner would be like.
I don’t even want to think about it.
Sighing, I grab my cell phone out of my purse and put in a call to Grace’s bakery.
She answers on the third ring. “A Slice of Hope with a Sprinkle of Grace, this is Grace speaking, how can I help you?”
“Grace, it’s Sam.”
“Sam, what a pleasant surprise,” she says, genuine happiness in her tone. “How are you?”
“I’m good, how about you guys? How are my niece and nephew?”
“They are wonderful and very excited for you to finally get here. We all are.”
“Me, too,” I say, though it lacks my usual enthusiasm.
“So what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.”
“I need a peach pie recipe. The best one you have.”
“Oh, brushing up on your skills so you can help your sister-in-law out when ya get here?” she asks hopefully.
“I’ll come and help out anytime but we both know it won’t taste nearly as good as yours or even Hope’s for that matter.” My precious little niece is almost as good as her mom.
“Nonsense. You will be great. I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you so dang much. We all have.”
“I miss you all, too,” I tell her, my heart swelling in my chest.
“Okay, I’m going to give you a pretty simple recipe but I want you to have fun with it. Add things. Toss some of your favorites in it then name it whatever you want. Don’t hold back, even if it ends up tasting terrible. You’ll know what to do differently for next time.”
I smile at the excitement in her voice, her passion igniting one of my own. It’s contagious. “Okay, I will.”
I jot down the list of ingredients and simple directions. After she finishes she asks what the special occasion is.
“Actually, it’s for a date,” I say carefully.
She gasps. “Really? Oh my gosh, that’s so darn excitin’. Anyone I know?”
I shift in my seat, unsure of whether to tell her or not. I hate to put her in a bad place since she would have to keep it from Sawyer.
“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” I ask.
“Well, I most certainly do now.” She laughs.
“Promise not to tell my brother?”
There’s a long bout of silence.
“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good. Maybe not.”
“It’s probably better you don’t,” I say softly.
“It’s not Grant, is it?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Oh good. Well…oh the heck with it. Tell me anyway or I’ll die from curiosity.”
“It’s Jase Crawford.”
“Holy Toledo,” she shrieks. “Are you messin’ with me right now?”
A soft sigh escapes me. “No. And I know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure you do.”
“You think it’s a mistake, just like Jesse. But if it is, Grace, it’s the best one I’ve ever made. It’s nothing serious,” I add, not only lying to her but myself. What I feel for Jase is serious, more than I care to admit. But I’m sticking to the deal, even if it kills me. “We’re just spending time with each other before I move, and…it’s been really great. I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”
“Oh, Sam. I can hear it in your voice,” she says softly, her words parallel to Jesse’s. “If he’s good to you and you’re happy then that’s all that matters.”
“He is…real good to me.”
“I believe it. I only met him that one time, and it’s one I will never bring up around your brother or it’ll set him off.”
I cringe just thinking of my brother’s reaction.
“Lord knows none of us needs to see that,” she continues. “But even in the short time that I met him, I could tell Jase was a good guy. He actually reminded me a lot of Sawyer, which is why I think they butt heads so much. The world isn’t big enough for both of their egos.”
I chuckle. “Now that I agree with.”
There’s a thoughtful pause between the both of us.
“You know, something my mama always said was to let your heart lead you and you can never go wrong. Follow it, Sam, and see where you end up.”
My throat thickens at the sound of her sad voice as she talks about her late mother. “Thanks, Grace.”
“Anytime. Let me know how your pie turns out.”
“I will. I’ll call you back this weekend.”
“Sounds good. Take care.”
“You, too.”
The rest of my day passes in a blur, Jase never far from my thoughts or heart.
Once the last child is picked up, I rush out of the school and drive straight to the u-pick farm that’s located just on the outskirts of town, wanting to get the freshest peaches for my pie. It’s owned by the McNallys, a sweet elderly couple who have been longtime residents of Silver Creek.
Unfortunately, when I pull up, Mr. and Mrs. McNally are parked outside the metal gate, locking up the property.
Shoot! They’re closed already?
Mrs. McNally waves to me while sitting in her car as she waits for Mr. McNally to finish locking up.
Waving back, I put the car in park and step out, keeping one foot inside.
“Well hello, Miss Samantha,” Mr. McNally greets me.
I try not to cringe at the use of my full name. I
never liked it much before, but since Grant I do even less now.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. McNally,” I greet them both with a smile. “I guess this means you guys are closed for the day?”
He gives me a regretful nod. “I know it’s a little early but we have our granddaughter’s year end recital this evening.”
“How lovely,” I tell him. “Well, no problem. I was hoping to pick some fresh peaches but the grocery store will just have to do. Have a nice time.”
I’m about to climb back into my car when Mrs. McNally calls out to me. “Samantha, dear, you’re welcome to go on in if you don’t mind locking up after yourself.”
“Really? Are you sure that would be okay?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you. I won’t be long. I promise.”
Shutting off my car, I grab my wicker basket that sits on the passenger seat then hurry over to hand Mr. McNally twenty dollars, but he waves me away.
“Don’t worry about it. This time is on us.”
“Oh no. I insist. Especially when you are gracious enough to trust me alone here.”
“Of course we do, dear. You were raised by some of the best people I know.”
I smile, my heart warming at the compliment. No matter how hard I push for him to accept the money, he refuses.
“You go on now,” Mrs. McNally says. “The trees are in the far back corner. There should be a small ladder close by. You’ll find the ripest ones at the top.”
I nod. “Thank you again.”
After bidding me farewell, they drive away, their station wagon disappearing down the dusty road. Leaving my car parked where it is, I walk up the long gravel driveway, admiring the beautiful scenery as I make my way to the back of the property. The grass is green and lush, the trees and shrubs full of bright, rich, colorful fruits.
When I finally make it to the peach trees, I seek out the fullest one and choose the middle. Slipping my phone in the pocket of my vintage, knee-length, gingham skirt, I begin pulling peaches from the branches that I can reach, having to stretch up on my tiptoes, but quickly notice how firm they are.
Craning my head back, I see that Mrs. McNally is right; the plumpest ones seem to be at the top. I grab the wooden ladder that lies against one of the other trees and bring it over. After placing my wicker basket on the ground, I start my climb. Halfway up my ankle almost rolls, thanks to the heels I’m wearing.
Probably not the smartest thing to wear when climbing a ladder.
Once I make it to the top step, I carefully reach up and pick a few more; happy they are softer than the other ones I picked below. I step down close enough to gently place them in the basket then make the climb again and stretch up to grab another. That’s when I spot a large plump one that sits all by itself, much higher up, just begging to be picked.
Against my better judgment, I step up onto the platform, the ladder beginning to shake from my wobbly legs.
Crap, not a good idea.
Just when I’m about to climb back down, the ladder tilts beneath me. With a shriek of panic, I reach out for the thick, heavy branch and grab hold of it while the ladder clatters to the ground.
“Oh shit. This is not good.” Fear thrums through my veins when I look down, to see just how far up I am. “This is really not good.”
Stay calm, Sam. Think.
With all the strength I possess, I swing my lower body up and lock my legs around the thick branch, uncaring how indecent I look with my skirt flipped up, showcasing my ass to all of Mother Nature.
Eventually, I manage to twist up enough to situate myself on top, straddling the rough bark before I plummet to my death. I glance down once more and groan at the tipped over ladder.
“Great. How the hell am I going to get down?”
Taking in my surroundings, I see if I can climb my way back down but none of the branches seem as sturdy as the one I’m on. With my luck today, I’m liable to break my neck. Not having any other choice, I reach for my cell phone, thankful it didn’t fall out in the midst of my epic tree swinging skills, and call Zoey. But she doesn’t answer.
“No, no, no. Please, don’t be unavailable now. Please.”
I call three more times, only to get her voicemail. I try my other friend, Monica, who I deem more of an acquaintance but she doesn’t answer either. It makes me want to cry because it means I’m stuck having to call the last person I want to come here and find me like this.
Someone who will never let me live it down.
Shoving aside my pride, I punch in his number. Of course he answers on the first ring.
“Peaches,” he greets me in that deep, sexy voice of his. “I’m just packing up to leave, I’ll be over soon.”
“Would you mind making a stop first?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Help,” I tell him cryptically.
“Huh?”
I release a humiliated breath. “I need help. I’m stuck.”
“What?” he snaps, concern thick in his voice. “What do you mean you’re stuck? In your car? Are you hurt? Were you in an accident?”
“No. It’s nothing like that. I’m not hurt. Well…maybe my pride,” I grumble. “Look, can you just come out to the McNally farm. I’m at the back left end of the property. I’ll explain when you get here.”
“Hang tight. I’m on my way.”
Oh I’ll be hanging all right.
Ending the call, I rest against the rough bark and look up to see the reason why I’m in this mess in the first place. Reaching up, I pluck the lone peach and glare at it. “This is all your fault,” I grumble before taking a miserable bite.
By the yumminess that explodes in my mouth, it’s almost worth it—almost.
CHAPTER 12
Jase
I pull up to the McNally farm and see Sam’s car parked out front but without her in it. Worry burns in my gut as I jog to the back of the property where she said she would be, but I still don’t see her. However, I do find a tipped over ladder, a basket full of peaches, and a pair of pink heels.
What the hell?
When a peach falls out of the sky and hits me in the shoulder, I glance up to find the girl I’m looking for. Sam gazes down at me with a small, embarrassed smile, her hair a tangled mess around her pretty face and those sparkling eyes of hers more pronounced in the lush green tree.
A tree filled with peaches.
If I didn’t know better I’d swear I was dreaming, but in my dreams she would be naked in that tree.
“Hi,” she greets me softly.
“What the fuck are you doing up there?” I ask, trying to hold back my amusement when it’s clear she’s distressed.
A tortured groan escapes her. “You’re never going to believe this.”
She begins telling me the whole story, starting from when she showed up and the McNallys let her in alone, her mouth moving a million miles a minute.
“So here I am, picking the best peaches I can find when I see this one all the way up here on its own. Well, now I know why. Because in order to get it you have to do risky things. Things that could kill you. I, of course, took the risk. It wasn’t very Sensible Sam of me, and I paid the price. The ladder fell out beneath me but I caught this big branch, just barely escaping my imminent death,” she explains, holding up her thumb and finger an inch apart. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, Crawford, I will make you die a slow and painful death.”
By the time she finishes her fucking babbling, I’m laughing my ass off.
It doesn’t take long for her to join in but hers sounds not only embarrassed but also has a little crazy mixed in there, too. “Oh my god, Jase, I know it’s ridiculous. Just please get me down from here. I’ve almost been stung by a bee three times. The little bastard won’t leave me alone.”
“Because bees like sweet things and there’s nothing sweeter than you, baby.”
She glares down at me. “Now is not the time to be charming, Crawford. Get me down.”
“
All right, hold on.” I set up the ladder and climb halfway up, still chuckling at this ridiculous situation.
She turns around to step down, searching for the platform with her foot. Grabbing her smooth bare ankle, I help her find it and stay close to ensure she doesn’t slip. Once I know she’s good, I step back down but stand at the bottom to hold the ladder steady, trying my damnedest to get a peek at what she has on beneath this classy fucking skirt of hers.
Thong? Or lace?
It always seems to be one or the other. I really have no preference but I can say her ass looks best without anything covering it. My curiosity gets the best of me and I lift the material to see a soft pink silk thong. A low growl rumbles from my chest, my cock hardening at the sexy sight.
“Hey! Stop that.” She swats my hand away and it causes her to lose her footing. I catch her as she falls back, her high-pitched shriek filling the air.
“Jase, you asshole.” She struggles in my arms, throwing tiny punches my way.
Laughing, I block her pathetic attempts and take us to the grassy ground, covering her body before claiming her mouth. I groan at the sweet taste of her, one I’ve missed these past few days. It’s an addiction I’ve come to crave—need.
Her struggle comes to a stop and she instantly melts against me, her arms locking around my neck while she gives as good as she gets.
“I fucking missed you,” I growl against her lips.
“Me too, so much.”
Tearing my mouth away, I drag my lips down the slender column of her throat, my hand slipping under her skirt to glide up her smooth, bare thigh.
“You better stop before we get ourselves into trouble,” she says breathlessly but tilts her head to the side, giving me more of what I want.
“I love trouble. Especially when it involves you and your pussy.” I roll my hips, letting her feel how hard I am for her.
A fiery whimper pushes past her lips. “Stop the dirty talk, Crawford. You know what it does to me.”
I chuckle, yeah, I do. She loves it dirty and it only fuels the beast inside of me. The one that wants to corrupt every part of her—ruin her for anyone else that will come after me… The thought has acid settling in my gut. To think of anyone else touching her makes me fucking violent.