by Haven Rose
Sweet Surprise
Love for the Holidays: Valentine’s Day, Book Two
Haven Rose
Copyright © 2020 Sweet Surprise by Haven Rose
All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This story is intended for mature audiences only.
Cover by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services LLC
Created with Vellum
Contents
Acknowledgments and Dedication
Blurb
1. Micah
2. Valentina
3. Micah
4. Valentina
5. Micah
6. Valentina
7. Micah
8. Valentina
9. Valentina
10. Micah
11. Valentina
12. Micah
13. Valentina
Epilogue One - Valentina
Epilogue Two - Micah
Stay Connected
About the Author
More by Haven Rose
Acknowledgments and Dedication
To my fellow Loonies, thanks for keeping me sane. Love you all.
Readers, I hope you fall for the Kamenevs as much as I did, you’ll be seeing more of them
.
What could be sweeter than falling in love?
Anything when your name is Valentina and your family runs Carmichael Candies, which makes a killing during the holiday you're named after. She knows soulmates exist, her parents are proof of that, but she’ll pass, knowing the sacrifices they had to make.
Nothing when you’re a Kamenev and you'd kill, allegedly, to protect those you care for. Micah was taught to trust no one, that feelings make you weak, and only the strong survive. Those lessons shaped him into a man that believes happiness is too dangerous in his line of work.
Their differences are obvious, their futures decided for them, but Cupid has taken aim, and he always hits his target.
Chapter One
Micah
January 18th...
The men in my family have the reputations that lead to whispered warnings not to cross them, and they’re well-earned, yet probably still an underestimation of what they have and can do. However, it’s the women that hold the true power, and for a very different reason. The mere thought of disappointing them terrifies every single male member, regardless of age or position. That is one thing we can all agree on.
Despite the fact the last of my relatives to actually be born in our native homeland of Russia was my grandfather and grandmother’s respective grandparents, therefore, my great-greats on both sides, the culture has been passed from generation to generation. Grandmothers, or babushka as they’re often known, as well as baba – which is how we refer to our dad’s mom and babulya my mom’s – are revered where we come from. They’re special in numerous ways and should be treated with love and the utmost respect. If the latter is missing, neither will hesitate to correct that person’s bad attitude. Over the years, baba has even perfected this look that freezes you in your tracks, so much so that words are not needed to get her point across.
“My pelmeni (dumpling), when are you going to give me a malyshka to spoil?” I shrug, which isn’t good enough as she continues, seeing as wanting a new baby in the family is her favorite topic. “You never date.” She’s not wrong. I avoid women like the plaque. Not because of anything they’ve done, simply that I don’t want to bring anyone else into my world, nor any kids that may come of the union were I to find my soulmate. I want my branch of the tree to end with me. My cousins can carry on the family name and business. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for what my ancestors went through in order to give their descendants a better life in America, and what they’ve done since coming here, but I also know there were plenty of other fields available. However, there’s also something to be said for sticking with what you know, and there is a long history of this in our background.
Flattery, with truth behind it, may get me out of this. “Baba, you broke the mold when you came bursting through, ready for a fight. That means I’ll never find a woman as wonderful as you, so why try?”
She smiles, then gives my cheek a pat, and calls me a smooth talker. I didn’t get away with it as I’d hoped. And I know this not by her verbal response, but the tap to my face. It’s a bit harder than it needs to be, and her wink tells me she did it on purpose.
“I want you to find love, Micah. You try to hide from it, yet I see you better than you do yourself.” She does, and always has. Lidiya Kamenev is very intuitive, knowing things you tend to keep from yourself. As is my case. “You’re lonely.”
Yeah, I am. Even more so with my best friend, Milo, finding his other half. I may say I don’t want that, too, but I’m lying.
Chapter Two
Valentina
January 26th...
My best friend, Juniper, or Junie to me, is head over heels in love and I couldn’t be happier for her. She deserves it more than anyone considering the worthless people she was saddled with biologically. I can’t even call them her family as they don’t resemble one at all. Mine, however, adore her and her them.
We met in the eighth grade when I transferred to her boarding school. Before you get the wrong idea, I will state it was my idea to go there. My parents and brothers are the best, and while they tried to talk me out of it, they also supported me after realizing I wasn’t changing my mind. I hated my middle school with a passion and dreaded attending every day.
My mom was disowned for falling in love with my dad due to his skin color, and while I’m thankful they found one another and fought to be together, I can admit, even in this day and age, being a part of two worlds isn’t always easy. I’m proud of who I am and the people I come from – aside from my maternal grandparents because I just feel sorry for their narrow-mindedness – so I’ve never been ashamed of either. Unfortunately, there were those who had it out for me at school and didn’t hesitate to try to throw it in my face. When they didn’t get the response they expected and wanted, they only worked harder at it. That led to a few fights, some I won others I didn’t, and me begging my dad and mom to let me switch.
Worried I’d encounter the same prejudice at any of the local institutions, I researched the nearby boarding school, correctly assuming the private academy would be more tolerant, for lack of a better word, and I was right. I excelled there and found the acceptance I’d been seeking. It was close enough to where I could go home for the weekends and holidays, and I always brought Junie with me. Her parents couldn’t have cared less where she spent either as long as it wasn’t with them. Now you can see why I loathe them and the laurels as she refers to her sisters, Annabelle and Penelope. The first time she told me why – because that’s all they rest on – I laughed so hard I cried.
Junie and her husband, Milo, hit a bump in their journey the day they met, but he didn’t hesitate to set her straight and let her know she’s his. If he hadn’t, I would’ve gladly kicked his ass. I may look sweet, but I will defend those I love, and Junie
is one of my favorite people. Even if I didn’t, my parents and brothers who have essentially adopted her, would’ve taken the pitchforks, metaphorically speaking, and gone after him. Hell, I had to talk them down from doing just that when they’d found out what happened last month at the Jenner Christmas party.
My parents own Carmichael Candies, a very popular company not only in our hometown, but the state through word of mouth. I’d talked them in to letting a graphic designer create a website and implement an online store for shipping orders. They’d had their doubts at first, but it’s been a huge success.
Both Dad and Mom work in the shop, as do each of my brothers, Philip and Jackson, and myself. Philip is the candy genius, taking after our mom, while Jackson followed in Dad’s footsteps by preferring to handle things behind the scenes. I wanted something that was solely my own despite having no intention to leave the family business, and found it as a seamstress. I mostly bring Junie’s designs to life, though I sew for others here and there.
I cover the counters, meaning I ensure we have enough inventory for the customers to choose from, give samples when requested, come up with the displays, etc. Junie has helped from time to time as well, but she hasn’t been able to as much as her creations become more popular. I keep urging her to give permission to the many boutiques who wish to carry her line, and I think she’s getting closer to accepting that step. She just needs to kick her family out of her head and realize how truly talented she is.
With Junie finding Milo and getting married, my mom’s focus has turned toward grandchildren, not that she won’t consider Junie’s her own. It’s just another example of how wonderful my parents are. She’s started hinting about me and my brothers procreating, which is hilarious as I don’t date, nor do they. The three of us are running out of ways to escape the conversations and brush off the questions. As much as I love my parents, and as close as we’ve always been to the point I can tell them anything, I don’t know how to confess that I’m not sure I want to have any. Let alone find my match and settle down.
The reason? I know what they went through to be together, and while I know they’d do it again without hesitation because of their love for one another, any sons or daughters I have may endure the same teasing I did, the feeling of not belonging anywhere. My heritage will become theirs, meaning, in the eyes of some, they’d already be at a disadvantage.
I know how deeply that wounded me when I was younger, though it has improved as I’ve gotten older to where I rarely now encounter it, but wouldn’t that be selfish? Could I really pass on my genes knowing what they could go through because two different halves made me whole?
When I mentioned this to Junie once, she didn’t immediately call me an idiot because she’s the best – even though her expression said it for her – but asked why I felt like that and understood where I was coming from. Plus, she’s heard my stories from back then, and witnessed some imbecilic behavior from people that should not be allowed to speak. She didn’t try to change my mind, which I appreciate as it means she’s taking my feelings in account, but I also know she’s hoping I do it on my own.
I’m not saying it won’t happen, only that I’d have to meet a helluva man for it to.
Chapter Three
Micah
January 29th…
Podonok (fucker). Get me out of my warm house to deal with this shit. I’d just settled in with a hot mug of tea and a good book, then my phone rang, one of our friendlies showing on the screen, so here I am, trudging through the snow to deal with a govnyuk (shithead). Both sets of grandparents ensured that their descendants could read and speak the language of our forefathers, and while we all can, the swear words tend to be those I use most.
If we weren’t intent on ensuring the Graham brothers are content with our arrangement and vice versa, I would’ve told Ezra to fuck off. Not that he nor Lincoln and Caleb are bad guys. I actually like them, but I want to finish my damn book. Not to mention the person I’m here to deal with is nothing but a pain in my ass and theirs.
From time to time, the Kamenevs and Grahams work together. The reason I’m here now is due to the fact it involves both families. Mine, like theirs, offers protection, but we also go a little further, delving a bit more to the dark side by seeing it as our duty to rid our town and the outlying areas of the stains on society. Our current target? A piece of shit that likes to hit women. We aren’t sure of his exact connection to Mara and we honestly don’t need to know. What we do is that she doesn’t believe there’s any way out of her situation legally. That’s where we come in.
We’ve been tracking George for a couple weeks since he’d bolted like the rodent he is and gone underground. However, whether it’s seeking food, the sun, or, in his case, trying to find Mara and make her pay for his plight, they always reappear eventually. As if what he did to her isn’t bad enough, we’ve discovered a little girl is involved, too. We’re assuming that’s Mara younger sister as she’s Jocelyn’s guardian, and they’re all the other has left family wise,
I will gladly get my hands dirty for this, and I have a feeling Ezra himself will vie for the chance as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if he, Lincoln, and Caleb drew straws for the honor. These three aren’t referred to as the Brothers Graham for their skill in telling a story. When I stroll toward the alley as arranged, I find Ezra, a cocky smile on his face as Lincoln and Caleb almost pout to his left.
“You two haven’t realized he cheats yet?” I tease, causing Ezra to flick me off. Lincoln and Caleb glance at each other, then Ezra, and I see the moment they know they’ve been had, multiple times.
“Fucker,” Ezra curses and now I’m the one feeling smug. “You gave me those straws,” he reminds me.
“Thee who giveth can also taketh.”
His muttered ‘oversized Russian fucker’ makes me laugh, and now I’m not as pissed, even though I’d gotten to the climax of my book. I want to know if I’m right who the bad guy is, something I can usually figure out seeing as it takes one to know one and all. But this is kind of fun, and, more importantly, Mara and Jocelyn deserve to no longer live in fear.
We wait while Lincoln jokingly stretches, explaining, “Don’t wanna pull a muscle.”
Caleb lights a pipe, apparently his new hobby, and shrugs saying, “His old ass could be a while.” I have to admit I prefer it over the whistling of last month. Aside from when he needs to kick ass, Caleb gets bored easily, so he’s always looking for something to learn. He even tried Russian, and wasn’t doing too bad, but again, he was ready to move on fairly quickly. Which was conveniently after I told him what I assumed he wanted to know – the swear words.
Finally, the walking piece of shit exits the bar through the rear door, which also happens to be a front for the gambling the Kamenevs oversee, and freezes in his tracks the second he spots us. We have that effect on people.
“I didn’t do nothing,” he stammers, slowly backing up. I can see when he thinks he’ll make it, and the fear when his retreat is stopped. He bumps into, and falls down from doing so, Lincoln, who leans and whispers something that has all the blood leaving George’s face, making him as pale as the snow falling around us. And then the pussy faints.
“Linc,” Ezra admonishes him, sounding almost disappointed. “Now I can’t use my new brass knuckles Caleb made me for my birthday.” Yeah, that was another of his ventures, which he still does from time to time, supplying his family and ours with numerous tools of the trade.
“What?” Lincoln asks, the smirk on his face negating his attempt at innocence. “All I said was payback is a bitch.”
“I’m thinking it was more the tone you used than the words,” Ezra observes.
“You saying I’m scary?” Lincoln wants to know.
“Yes,” we all respond, making him laugh.
Rifling through George’s pockets, I find a wad of cash and ask Ezra what dickhead owes him. When he replies, I count that out and hand it to him, then pocket the rest to have it given to Mara and the
girl. My family will understand and agree with me in not taking the debt he accrued. Ezra is watching me, somehow eerily reading my mind, then returns his share. “Add it to the other. She needs it more.” I nod, not at all surprised, then bid them farewell as they cart him off. I offered to come along, but they assured me they had it.
Well, at least there’ll be no clean up required when I get home tonight. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or upset about that. My cousin, Tatiana, is the one who told us of Mara’s situation. I’m not quite sure how she knew, though I have my theories, so I stop at my uncle and aunt’s place. After exchanging hugs because we’re an affectionate bunch, I pull Tatiana aside and hand her the cash.
“My birthday isn’t until March,” the little brat jokes.
“You should pay us for putting up with you.” She’ll be twenty-one very soon, but it doesn’t stop her from sticking her tongue out at me and making me laugh. “Make sure this gets to Mara, okay?” She instantly turns serious and nods. “She needs any paperwork to start over somewhere else, tell Ditto,” the name our forger uses for anonymity, “to send us the bill. Mara pays for nothing.” We may do bad stuff, but that doesn’t make us bad people. We simply live by our own moral code, and one is that children and women should be protected above all others.