Making Her Mine
Sweet Somethings Book Three
Rory Reynolds
Making Her Mine
Sweet Somethings Book Three
Rory Reynolds © 2020
Created with Vellum
to first kisses and falling in love…
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Also by Rory Reynolds
About the Author
Prologue
Carson
Ana looks fucking amazing in her bridesmaid’s dress. It’s made of slinky silver material that hugs her body perfectly and shows every delectable line of her curves. My cock is instantly hard at the sight of her, and I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets to walk her down the aisle. I should thank Amos for putting us together—again. He may have grumbled and groaned at me until I gave up sitting in her section at the diner. Even so, he totally did me a solid today.
“You ready, gorgeous?” I ask, looking at the vixen who has me wrapped around her little finger and doesn’t even know it.
She blushes lightly with a small smile at my calling her gorgeous before she remembers it’s me, and a scowl steals that tiny bit of happiness at my compliment.
“Let’s just get this over with.” She oh so lightly touches my bent elbow so I can lead her down the aisle to where we will watch our friends say, ‘I do.’ That light touch is enough to drive me to distraction. Despite the inappropriateness, I’m officially walking down the aisle with a raging hardon. It’s made even more inappropriate due to the fact that I know Ana hates every second of being near me.
Ana is under the impression that I don’t like her. Every time I get around her, my inner caveman comes out, and I can’t keep from grumbling at her. Especially when she wears those short shorts at the diner she works at that show way more than I want any asshole—other than me—to see. Not to mention the shirts that show off the plump curves of her breasts.
So shoot me if telling my woman to cover her sexy body is wrong. She’s taken my words as an insult to her beauty, but in truth, it’s me wanting to be the only man who covets her curves. She doesn’t realize how beautiful she really is and certainly doesn’t see how even the married men look at her. None of that matters because today, Ana is mine to touch no matter how much she loathes me.
God, that sweet honeysuckle scent of hers has the predator in me standing at attention. My eyes don’t leave her the entire ceremony. My entire being programmed to focus only on the woman of my infatuation. My curvy goddess.
As soon as our newly married friends kiss, they are running down the aisle, grinning from ear to ear. My cock stands at attention, knowing that it’s time to touch the object of my obsession. I get to put my filthy hands on her again.
My Analise.
The reception is small, like the ceremony. Not that I’m complaining. It gives me the opportunity to watch Ana dance with her friends and laugh. She rarely laughs and never flashes that glowing smile of hers at me. I take every opportunity to drink those down tonight. She dances until she looks ready to drop. Even sweaty and flushed, she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
My dirty mind can’t help but imagine her sweaty and flushed from an entirely different form of exertion… one that has my cock rising from half-mast to full-on erection. Making me so hard I could pound nails with it.
As if she feels my eyes on her, she turns, looking directly at me. She instantly narrows her eyes, and that beautiful smile turns into the familiar scowl. No matter how much she tries to push against this chemistry we have, our connection is so strong that we are always aware of one another. Even in the crowd of well-wishers watching the newlyweds prepare to leave for the start of their honeymoon, her eyes find me without fail.
I hate that she thinks I’m an asshole, I mean, I am an asshole, but I never intend to be one to her. She just takes my gruff nature and overprotectiveness as me being an asshole. That’s okay though, she can avoid me for now, but soon enough, I’m going to claim her for my own.
1
Ana
“Gram, don’t be crazy. I love living here. Who will take care of you?”
My grandma snorts at that. “I broke my hip trying to show them young bucks at the youth center that I could skateboard with the best of them. It’s not like I’m some frail old lady who fell in the bathtub.
“Besides, I’ve been right as rain for over a year. It’s time for you to fly, little bird. Go be free and young. You don’t need me cramping your style,” she says, trying to convince me this crazy idea of hers is a good one.
What style? I think to myself. I’m twenty-seven and have never so much as kissed a man, let alone brought one home like she’s insinuating. Unlike my friend Lani who never dated, I’ve been on dozens of dates and haven’t found a single man that I wanted to kiss. I almost kissed Taylor Scott in high school, but then his mom came home.
“Besides, I already bought the house. If you don’t move into it, it’ll sit there empty. Wasted.”
Ugh. She totally knows how to play me. She always has a way of getting what she wants. She knows my kryptonite is wastefulness. I hate it. “You’re not going to give up until I do what you want, are you, gram?”
She gives me a sly smile. She knows she has me right where she wants me. “That’s right, little bird. You’ve been taking care of me long enough. I never meant for you to give up your dreams to come back here. Don’t get me wrong, I love having you in Sugarhill, but I don’t want you wasting your life living with an old lady.”
I huff out a breath. “You’re not old.”
“I’m seventy-something or another.”
I laugh because my grandma will never admit her own age. She’s always been like that. When she took me in twenty-two years ago after my mother died in a car accident and my father rejected me, she was fifty-something, then sixty-something, now she’s seventy-something. I shake my head in exasperation.
“Fine, I’ll move into this house you insanely bought me. Which, by the way, is the most ridiculous birthday present ever.”
“Nothing is ridiculous when it comes to you,” she says excitedly. “Now let’s go see the house. You’re going to love it!”
She’s not wrong. The house is perfect. It’s a little bungalow that is painted bright white with gray shutters and a bright red door. There are window boxes for flowers in the front windows and flower beds on both sides of the sidewalk and the front of the house.
“I knew you’d want the flower beds, but I also know you’ll want to plant them yourself, so we just prepped them for you to get your hands dirty.”
Tears well in my eyes at the thoughtfulness. “It’s perfect,” I say, pulling her into a fierce hug. “I can’t believe you did this.”
She pulled every detail from my Pinterest board. Everything down to the mailbox is the exact thing I put on my wish list. I can only imagine the inside is just as perfect. When she leads me through the house, it’s exactly as I thought it would be—perfect. A bubble of excitement grows in my stomach at the idea of living here.
“I don’t even have words for how amazing this is, gram. How did you pull it off without me knowing?”
That sly smile of hers spreads across her face. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”
I pull h
er into a fierce hug. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, my little bird. I just want you happy, and I think this house is exactly what you need for all your dreams to come true… even the ones you don’t realize are there for the taking,” she says vaguely.
It takes no time at all for me to get moved in. I really only had my clothes and a few other personal things in my childhood home. I didn’t want to empty it of all the familiar stuff. I have this image of me coming home and staying in a room full of memories. It’s silly, I know, but it’s what I’ve always wanted.
I brush my hands off, leaning back on my knees to admire my handiwork. The gardens are coming along nicely. The bright flowers of spring will have to wait, but fall isn’t without its beauty. The chrysanthemums, black-eyed susans, aster, and dianthus I planted will be gorgeous for weeks to come.
The quiet of my new neighborhood is broken by the low growl of a motorcycle driving down the street. I turn to see the matte black Harley and the rider who is the bane of my existence.
What is Carson doing here? Can’t he just be satisfied with torturing me at the diner? Of course not. I swear his only goal is to make my life miserable. I can’t keep from scowling at him with disgust when he pulls up to my neighbor’s house. I know someone lives there but have yet to meet them. They’ve been away on some kind of business trip from what my other neighbors have said. Apparently, he travels for work fairly often.
Maybe Carson is housesitting? Watering plants?
I nearly choke on my tongue when the garage door opens, and his truck comes into view. He carefully backs his bike beside the truck, then throws his leg over the seat and stands to his full height.
Oh no. No, no, no. Carson Moore is not my neighbor. There has to be some other reason for why he’s parking his bike in the garage. I’m trying to figure out a reasonable excuse for his truck to be parked there too, but I can’t come up with a single reason. Leaving me with the horrible truth: Carson is my new neighbor.
2
Carson
My house comes into view, and my shoulders instantly relax. It’s been a long week. I pull into my driveway and take in the new neighbor and her familiar curves. Ana is sitting back on her knees, looking at me in absolute horror as she realizes I’m her new neighbor. I smirk to myself, knowing she’s about to be spitting mad at her grandmother, who bought the house from me.
Whether she believes it or not, this wasn’t any kind of set up. It just happens that her grandma was on the hunt for a house, and my rental was empty after my tenant moved to the city. Her grandma made me an offer I couldn’t refuse to sell it—mainly that her lovely granddaughter would become my new neighbor.
That lady is smarter than anyone gives her credit for, devious too. She knows exactly how I feel about Ana, and it’s no secret that Ana hates me. She told me not to fuck up this opportunity and that if things go her way, the house will be up for rent in a blink. Ruth is one hundred percent on board with me claiming her granddaughter. She knows what I do… that Ana is as perfect for me as I am for her.
Now to convince her.
“Hello, neighbor.” I give her a welcoming smile as I cross the yard to her.
She shakes her head. “Nope. We aren’t doing this. You’re going to go back to your house, and I’m going to go inside mine, and we will just pretend that we don’t live side by side.”
“You can fight it all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that we are neighbors and that we will be seeing a lot of each other.”
Her eyes widen in horror when she realizes the truth of my words. She got me banished to the other side of the diner whenever she’s working, but now I have unfettered access to my beauty. And I’m going to take advantage of every moment.
“No. Just no. You just walk back over to your house and stay away from mine, and then we won’t have any problems.” She points to my house, practically tapping her foot in annoyance.
“Now that wouldn’t be very neighborly of me, would it?” I smirk. “I like to befriend my neighbors. Never know when you’ll need a cup of sugar.”
“Mr. Beatie across the street can give you all the sugar you need.”
“But what if I need a different kind of sugar?” I say suggestively, taking a step closer to her.
She snorts a laugh. “I’m sure Mr. Beatie could still help you out.”
“My tastes run,” I look her up and down, licking my lips, “to sweeter things.”
“You’re incorrigible! You don’t even like me. Quit messing with my head. You’re a jerk one minute, and then next you’re flirting. Just stop!” she shouts the last bit, her breaths coming in panting gusts making her breasts rise and fall in a way that has my cock standing at attention.
She’s a fucking knockout, and she doesn’t even know it. Maybe that’s part of what draws me in… she’s so unassuming and sweet. She’s all smiles and sweet words for everyone. Which is why I have to step in and show my asshole side. Men look at her hungrily—even the married ones. It’s enough to drive me to insanity.
I don’t mean to shame her for her clothes… like the short shorts she’s wearing now, but I hate that other men are admiring what’s mine. I’ve staked my claim, and her body should be for my eyes only.
Ana huffs and turns away to storm off into her house. A house that I worked for weeks to remodel just for her. Wonder what she would say to that? I carefully painted her door bright red, just like the pictures her grandma Ruth showed me. Making her dreams come true is the only thing I want in life. I want Ana to be happy. It’s instinctual to want to make sure she’s not only safe but happy too.
The door slams shut behind her so hard the windows rattle. I love how fiery she is. To everyone else, she’s sweet and docile. To me, she’s a feral tigress ready to take a swipe at me. That’s okay, she can take her swipes, I’ll be here to stroke her until she purrs.
3
Ana
“Prue! Are you even listening to me? Carson Moore is my new neighbor!”
She just laughs. “Oh, heaven forbid you have one of the sexiest men in all of Sugarhill living right next to you. Cry me a river.”
“Margo, you understand, right?”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I mean, he is hot. Amos says he likes you…”
I shake my head. “No, the man hates me! He’s a big asshole to me. He makes me insane. I hate him.”
Lani shrugs, “You know what they say about love and hate. A fine line between the two.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “You guys are supposed to be on my side.”
“Honey, we are on your side,” Margo says, giving me a consoling look. “We just think you might not be seeing things in the same unbiased way we do.”
“It should be a biased opinion! If you’re on my side, you should hate him too.”
“He’s Amos’ friend, I kind of have to like him. He’s a good guy. I really think you’ve just gotten off on the wrong foot with him. I know he comes off as a jerk sometimes, but he’s really a great guy. I mean, look at all the work he did on your house.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you mean work on my house?”
Margo covers her mouth with her hand, realizing she just revealed something that was apparently a secret. “Well… you see… he owned the house before your grandma bought it. It needed a little work, so he volunteered to help.”
“What do you mean by a little work?” I ask, feeling a little hysterical.
“Well…”
“Jesus, Margo, just tell her already. You opened your mouth, finish the job,” Prue demands.
“Your grandma showed him your vision board, and he… well, he made it all happen.”
My jaw drops. I would’ve never in a million years thought that he would do something like that for me. It takes a whole lot of convincing to get my anger back at having him for a neighbor. In fact, my anger feels suspiciously like gratitude and other warm feelings. Knowing that he spent so much time making my dream house come to life really does
change my perception of him.
Well, partially.
He’s still an asshole—just an asshole with a nice side.
“Let’s give Ana a break. Pour her another glass of wine, and let’s talk about these cupcakes,” Lani says, taking a massive bite of Margo’s newest cupcake creation: triple chocolate, strawberry cream-filled, topped with fudge icing. It’s basically sin and heaven all mixed together in one perfect little cake. “I’m going to gain a million pounds at this rate.”
Lani rubs her very pregnant belly between bites. Prue snatches the rest of her cupcake right out of her hands and shoves it in her mouth, then mumbles something about fixing that for her.
“You jerk! I was enjoying that.”
Prue licks her fingers clean. “I just helped. Now you can’t put my niece in a diabetic coma.”
I hand Lani the rest of my cupcake, and she takes a bite, practically dancing in her seat. “Thanks, Ana.”
The rest of our book club turned to drink wine and eat desserts club ends in another bottle of wine and lots of laughing. By the time Lani brings me home, I’m feeling pretty happy. That is until I see my new neighbor standing on his porch with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks like sex and sin and all the things that make my girly bits tingle.
“Have a good night!” Lani shouts from the window of her car, waving as she pulls away.
I stumble over my own feet, giggling a little. Whew, I think I’m a bit more than tipsy tonight. I don’t typically drink much, but tonight seemed like a good night to try to let go of some inhibitions. Except now I’m stumbling up the sidewalk to my house with an audience of one very sexy, very growly, big jerk-faced asshole.
Making Her Mine (Sweet Somethings Book 3) Page 1