SweetHarts (5 Book Box Set)

by Kira Graham

  Serious drama on those Days reruns, let me tell ya.

  “Cleo,” he sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as if searching for patience.

  “You have to let me go to this interview. It could mean the difference between seeing Sammy’s ass and saving my eyesight!” I chatter, feeling like that makes total sense.

  “Honey, talk to your daughter,” Dad mutters, when all Hart does is glare at the ceiling. “Tell her that she doesn’t need a job where some sicko can hurt her.”

  Oh my God. Cue the crying, I think morosely, my heart dropping when Dad sniffles, and Mom throws a murderous glare my way. Great, just great. Exactly what I need right now is for everyone to hate me, I think, peering around to find everyone staring at me, their eyes filled with disappointment. Which I hate. Like I told you all, it’s my one weakness. Besides food. And sex. And candy. And adorable little puppies…

  “I need a job. I’m going nuts at home just sitting around while everyone else gets to go out and do stuff. Even Beau is getting bored, and you’d think you wouldn’t know that because he never moves, or even blinks, but I can sense it,” I assure them, glaring at Beau the bodyguard when he grins and proves me wrong.

  Two weeks with this guy, and now is the moment that he decides not to be a damn corpse?

  “Fine. Come to work with me,” Hart mutters, wincing so hard that I might be offended that he doesn’t want me at his office all day.

  If I didn’t agree. Some relationships are better with closeness and all that romantic crap that people seem to need. Not so with me and Hart. We need a few hours a day to give ourselves time to breathe, and no, I’m not just saying that because it freaks me out when he’s always around, watching me. He said it, too.

  Apparently, I’m hyper, and that exhausts him sometimes. Like I can help it. You try sitting around eating chocolate and watching soaps all day—you’d be going crazy, too.

  “I didn’t say that you exhaust me! I said that you’re making me crazy by begging me to let you go out with your sister and cousins. The answer is still no, Cleo,” he tells me, ruining the good head of steam that I was working up.

  “Just let me interview—”

  “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that you suddenly get an interview right now, just when all of this is happening?” Hart asks softly, keeping his voice level.

  “No. I put the ad up—”

  “Two days ago,” he cuts in, his mouth going hard. “I asked you to wait until I could check them out.”

  “What are you hoping to find? Some chocolatier assassin just waiting to end my Sweet existence?” I rail, immediately regretting the words when people start grumbling uncomfortably and clear out from the basement, fast.

  “Chocolatier?” Hart asks, his frown surprising me, along with the question.

  “Okay…that was not the response I was expecting,” I admit, shaking my head to clear it.

  “I told you, I’m not fighting with you about this, babe. Now, chocolatier?” he pushes, his eyes narrowed.

  “Technically, I’m a pastry chef. But I like chocolatier better because it reminds me of Willy Wonka.”

  “You make chocolate?” he asks, seeming more interested in that than in the fact that I just tried to crawl through the basement crawl space, thereby voiding the promise I made to him.

  Huh.

  “Yeah. And other stuff. Candy. Baked goods. Mostly chocolate, though, because I like chocolate,” I mumble, biting into my lip because I am so confused.

  Where’s the yelling? And where are the accusations that he’s supposed to throw at me? Where’s the whole “I can’t do this” speech before he storms out and—oh, snaaap! So that’s why I was doing this, I think, hating it when my brain realizes that fact, and my subconscious cackles. Shoot. I really am a self-saboteur, or whatever it is that Rose called me.

  Huh.

  “Okay, so let me get this straight. You make chocolate,” he clarifies, his mouth turning up into a glorious smile when I nod, still bewildered until he grabs me, kisses me soundly, and throws his head back with a bark of laughter.

  “You make those raspberry-flavored chocolates! And the peanut caramels,” he crows, kissing me again so that by the time he pulls his mouth away, I’m panting and shamelessly rubbing myself against his cock.

  “Uh-hummm. More,” I breathe, pulling at his hair to get his mouth back on mine.

  The wretch twists away, though, and forces my hips to hold so still that I look up, ready to blast him for teasing me.

  “Cleo? Do you make those heavenly treats that Rose kept sending to Chilli?” he asks softly, his mouth curving when I blink stupidly and nod, my head spinning.

  “Yeah. You tasted them?”

  “Tasted them? I stole them, Cleo. I snuck into Achilles’ office and stole them like some common thief, because they are, hands down, the best thing that I have ever put in my mouth. Besides your pussy,” he tacks on, grinning wickedly when I blush and look away, overcome by shyness.

  “Really?”

  “Oh, totally, babe. I ate you out for over an hour last—”

  “Not that,” I snap, slapping a hand over his mouth to stop him from saying any more words that Mom and Dad will probably hear.

  Damn eavesdroppers.

  “You liked them?” I whisper, smiling when he nods enthusiastically and licks my hand until I squeal and pull it back.

  “Loved them,” he breathes, smiling against my lips when I can’t stop my own lips from forming the smile that wants to break free. “Now, about a certain promise you broke…”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Adonis

  I’m furious right now, and I don’t know how to deal with what I’m staring at. For one, it’s laughable, and for another, I feel as if the floor has just dropped out from under me, and everything I know about Cleo is a lie.

  Here it is, in black and white. Cleo lied to me. Or rather, she didn’t tell me anything of import about herself. In fact, she’s told me so little that it takes me a moment or two to fully assimilate what I’m staring at while Zeus sits across from me at my desk, his face pulled into a tight grimace.

  “She was engaged,” I say dully, my voice devoid of feeling because I can’t process what I’m feeling fast enough to actually feel it.

  Shock. Disbelief. Horror. Disappointment. Anger. Betrayal.

  “Look, Addy, I don’t think that you should make this bigger than what it is,” Zeus starts, grimacing when I raise my eyes to meet his.

  “Bigger than what? We’ve been together for over a month now, long enough that I know her cycle. We were friends before that, and yet in all this time, she hasn’t once offered this information up. Something that was, and still is, a big part of her life!” I seethe, my chest aching more painfully the longer I stare down at the photo in front of me.

  I can’t stand the sight of Cleo’s face smiling into the camera, and it sickens me when I see the smug assurance of her fiancé staring back up at me. A man I know and loathe so much, my blood boils at the mere mention of his name.

  “Ad—”

  “Don’t, Zeus. Don’t sit there and try to tell me not to be hurt by this,” I warn, casting a scathing glare towards the drawer beside me, where I have a ring stashed away, just waiting for the right moment.

  It’s sudden, and way too soon, which I knew when I went to the jeweler to pick it out, but here’s the thing: I love Cleo. I think I fell in love with her when she sneered at me, told me that I was an idiot, and then still agreed to be my friend. Hell, it was before that, even, if you think about the fact that I went home the night of our first disastrous date and rubbed one out while picturing her removing that ugly dress she was wearing.

  In the weeks since we’ve been together, admittedly because I pushed for it, I’ve fallen even more. I sleep beside Cleo, make love to her, and wake up beside her—and with every passing moment, things have only become clearer.

  Heck, when I told my brothers that Cleo’s the one who makes tho
se chocolates we all love so much, they laughed their asses off and reminded me that I once said I’d marry anyone who can create such perfection. It turns out, I did meet her, and while I didn’t know that my perfect woman was right beside me, I kinda did, too. Enough that I went out and bought a ring despite my gun-shy views about marriage, and despite knowing that Cleo is likely to freak.

  I just thought, okay, so maybe the time isn’t right now, but it’ll be right someday, and I wanted to be ready for it, knowing in my heart that I had made this choice freely and without reservation.

  Now? Now I look down at a much younger Cleo, her blue eyes shining as she smiles at the camera, and I feel as if everything I’ve built up in my head is a lie. She’s a lie, and she’s a liar. She lied to me by not being honest about her past, though, to be fair to her, I don’t know just what I was expecting from her.

  She’s admittedly closed off, and it takes near-torture tactics to get the woman to so much as share a morsel of herself with me emotionally. Sex is good. It’s right, and it’s important, but the togetherness is what I’ve been wanting from Cleo, and it’s become very clear to me that that’s not something she’s willing to give me.

  “Maybe…talk to her. Cleo isn’t…she’s not one of those women who deals well with upheaval and emotions, Addy. You knew that going into this relationship,” Zeus points out, flinching when I slam a fist into the desk with enough force that the glass top over the wood cracks.

  “Relationship? That’s laughable, man. What we have isn’t a relationship; it’s a joke,” I snarl, sneering down at Dennis Upperton’s face with so much rage that I shake with it. “She played me—”

  “She didn’t play you! Come on, brother, be reasonable. Cleo is exactly who you know her to be. A gun-shy, slightly neurotic, but sweet and loving woman. And she does love you, Adonis—any fool can see that. She’s just…a little hesitant when it comes to trust, and can you blame her,” he tells me, the words a statement rather than a question.

  “Blame her? I told her about Alicia, Zeus. I opened up to her and told her about everything,” I say raggedly, scrubbing at my eyes.

  I’m so goddamn tired lately, my drive to find answers keeping me awake most nights. I don’t sleep all that much, and even living at Zeus’s place with the protection, the security measures, and Zeus a door down in the next apartment, I still lie awake trying to piece it all together.

  Now it all just seems so pointless.

  “Adonis, be reasonable about this. Alicia was one moment in your life that happened years ago. What Cleo went through wasn’t just a breakup. She got left at the altar. She was humiliated, publically, in front of her friends and family and the press. You’re looking down at that photo, brother, but have you bothered to read any of that article? It’s brutal, the things they said about her in there, and it’s even worse when you consider who that fuck ran off with after jilting her,” Zeus growls, his eyes flaring with loathing when he looks at the article.

  “I don’t need to. The point isn’t that it happened. It’s that she didn’t tell me. Because she isn’t as into this relationship as I am,” I say stubbornly, closing the file with a curse. “I’m just a body to Cleo—”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it!” he rages, coming up out of his seat with a snarled curse that would make my ma gasp and run for the soap. “She’s just…Cleo needs to be earned, Adonis. And I get that you think that you’ve earned the right to be mad about this, and part of me even wants to agree, but the truth is, you haven’t.”

  “How haven’t I earned her?” I seethe, getting to my feet to tower over him. “I’ve done everything I can think of to make her happy.”

  I expect Zeus to argue with that. Hell, I need him to argue with it and force me to lose it. I want a fight; I need something to sink my teeth into right now because I can’t go near Cleo with the way I feel. I’d hurt her with the words boiling inside me, and the truth is, right now I want her to hurt. I feel as if she’s a mirage or some kind of phantom that I’ve been trying to cling to like a loser, while she’s just slipped farther and farther away.

  And that isn’t me. I’m not the guy who runs after a woman begging for attention and love. I did it once, a long time ago, and came away so destroyed that it took everything I had to pick myself back up and pull it all together again. I can’t—I won’t—be that guy again. Not for anyone. Not even for Cleo.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that? You’re a fool who’s looking for reasons to fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And for what? Because Cleo wasn’t screaming about her past from the rooftops?” Zeus sneers, his mouth twisting into an ugly smile when I refuse to answer. “You know what? Don’t even answer that; it doesn’t matter. I’ll go talk to Cleo—”

  “Stay away from her, Zeus. This is between me and her,” I warn him, itching for a fight and hoping he’ll take the bait.

  “It’s not a good idea to talk to her with the way you’re feeling, bro. Just let me—”

  “Stay away from her. Stay out of this,” I say again, already grabbing my jacket and the file from my desk.

  “Adonis—”

  “Zeus, I said stay out of it. I appreciate all the digging you did, and the help you’ve been thus far, but this isn’t about you. It’s about Cleo,” I say again, watching him deflate and hang his head, a sigh of resignation pouring out of him.

  “Don’t hurt her.”

  “I would never hurt Cleo—”

  “Words, man. Sometimes, it’s words that do the most harm,” he whispers before turning on his heel and walking away.

  Cleo

  Today’s the day. It’s today. The day. The moment of truth, I think, my palms sweating when I take in the table and the rest of the romantic stuff that I’ve put together with help from Sin.

  She’s been here all day, prepping and helping me cook a dinner that hasn’t turned out quite the way I planned, but that is at least edible. I think. I’ve never cooked for a man before, and while I’m no slouch at desserts, I apparently cannot follow a recipe for roast lamb to save my life.

  “You doing okay?” Sin asks me, coming up behind me where I’m standing at the window, trying to calm my nerves down to a low scream.

  Honestly? No, I am not okay. I’m freaking nervous and afraid and all those girly emotions that I make fun of Rose for feeling. I’ve been over this in my head a million times, and I’ve overthought things so much that I want to scream half the time, but I can’t avoid the facts anymore. I am totally and irrevocably in love with Adonis Hart to the point that I wake up in the morning just so I can look at his face.

  I’ve officially turned into one of those creepy chicks who stares at her man while he sleeps. Because I love him, and I—shit. Dammit. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  “Cleo—”

  “I’m okay. I really am. I’m fine,” I wheeze, the old panic and dread filling me so completely that I feel like I’ll burst into a million pieces at any moment.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Maybe you should wait until you’re not a wreck,” Sin says gently, her eyes going soft when I chew at my lip to stifle a nervous moan.

  “No. No. It’s time. It’s way past time that I open up to him about everything. I mean, I should have told him about Dennis weeks ago. I know that. You guys even told me that I shouldn’t try to ignore it or pretend it never happened,” I whisper, panting slightly when the old memories come back.

  “Yeah, but honey…you’re obviously not ready for this. Maybe we were wrong to trivialize it the way we did. No, you know what? We were wrong. What happened to you wasn’t some trivial heartbreak. It was terrible, and…and you have the right to not talk about it until you’re ready.”

  “I’m never going to be ready, though,” I tell her sadly, trying to smile because I have the overwhelming urge to cry. “You guys have been great, and Mom and Dad have been superstars about it all, but the truth is, I made you all pretend that it didn’t happen, and that’s not right.
I never dealt with it because that’s what I do when things get hard: I hide from reality. But Hart, he…I…we’re together, and he’s been so great, and I more than like him, Sin,” I admit, keeping the L word out of the statement, not because I don’t feel it, but because I think that Hart deserves to be the first person I tell.

  Sin sighs, and her eyes go impossibly softer as she pulls me into a hug, her scent of mint and garlic so familiar that I feel my stomach settle a little. I’m not a hugger by nature. No, that’s not true. I used to always be a hugger—one of those bubbly, bright, annoying people who smiled all the time and laughed for no reason. Before.

  “Oh, Cleo, I know that. Anyone with common sense and two working eyes can see that you ‘more than like him,’” she whispers, a chuckle purring through her body and into mine. “And I agree that honesty is best in a relationship, but babe, you need to be okay with this. And you’re obviously not. You’re shaking like a leaf, you’re sweating, and you’re as white as a ghost. If you need more time…”

  “I’ve had time,” I mumble, pulling away to pace in front of the windows. “I’ve had years and years of it, and I should be over it by now. I need to be over it because I want to move forward. With Hart.”

  With Hart. Always. Hopefully. Oh, God. What if I tell him, and he looks at me the way everyone else did when they found out? Dad and the uncles tried to squash the story, and they did a great job for the most part, seeing as how they sit on the boards of most of the papers, but some people heard whispers, and it wasn’t great for me when I finally had to face them.

  “That’s good, Cleo,” she says softly, still trying to be gentle.

  I appreciate it, and I love that my family members are all this supportive. There isn’t a Sweet alive who hasn’t been there for me when I needed them, and I know in my heart that if I ever need them again, they’ll go to the mattresses for me. Right now, though, I need to do this, and unfortunately, I have to do it alone.