Hey Sweet-Tea: The Way To A Man’s Heart Read online

  Hey Sweet-Tea

  The Way To A Man’s Heart

  Frankie Love

  Contents

  Hey Sweet-Tea

  1. Major

  Myra

  2. Major

  Myra

  3. Major

  Myra

  4. Major

  Myra

  5. Major

  Myra

  6. Major

  Myra

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  The Way To A Man’s Heart Book 9

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Frankie Love

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Hey Sweet-Tea

  The Way To A Man’s Heart Book 8

  By Frankie Love

  I’m back home with an NFL career as busted as my knee.

  My plans were dashed with one injury, but the moment I see Myra I think she might be my cure.

  She’s a Southern girl who knows how to cook and I’ve got a hankering for some comfort food.

  This sweet-tea is just what the doctor ordered.

  Dear Reader,

  Major is guil-tea as charged.

  Don’t worry, this alpha isn’t fixin’ to commit a crime…

  but he is ready to commit to Myra.

  This one’s fast, flirty, and naugh-tea as ever!

  xo, frankie

  Chapter One

  Major

  I’ve never liked attention. And so, when I moved back to my hometown a few months ago, I started wearing a ball cap and keeping my eyes down. Most people still know it’s me. Hell, I grew up here, played football for the high school team before I was drafted into the NFL.

  And yes, I’m grateful for the career I had, but damn, it kills me when people bring it up. I’ll be walking my dog, Madden, and someone will stop and ask for a selfie, my autograph, my phone number even. All it does is remind me that I’m here — not on the field. And the sad truth is I’ll never return. Not in the way I dreamed about.

  So today, I keep my head down, per my new normal, as I walk into Grady’s Garden Shop. He doesn't seem to be around, and so I browse the aisles myself.

  “Can I help you, sir?” someone with a Southern drawl asks.

  I turn, eyes raised. “Sir?” I chuckle. “I’m only twenty-six. Surely I’m not old enough to be a sir.”

  “Sorry,” the woman says. “I was just being polite. I can see now… I can see…” She stammers, clearly flustered. She’s a cute, curvy thing, with hair like honey and eyes like a blue-sky day. She’s wearing a green apron and a name tag.

  “No worries, Myra,” I say.

  “How did you know?” Her eyes widen, then she licks her lips — pink pouty ones — and smiles, pointing to her name tag. “Right. I’m Myra. And you are?”

  I run a hand over my jaw. Pleasantly surprised that she doesn’t know who I am. “I’m Major Owens.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Major. And what brings you in today?”

  I chuckle, relived that I don’t have to pose for a photo op with this sweet thing. She’s treating me like any old Joe — not the multi-millionaire I am.

  “I’m looking for some flowers. Fresh cut ones, actually. Which makes me think maybe I should have gone to a florist, not a garden supply shop.”

  She gives me a big smile that draws me into her orbit. God, she’s like a breath of fresh air. “I got you covered, Major. We have some bouquets up front. We get them from Lucia at Nettle Bank Farm. Would you like me to show you?”

  I clench my jaw, thinking I’d like her to show me a hell of a lot more than flowers. “Sure thing.”

  I follow her up front and see the display.

  “Any flower in particular?” she asks. “Are they for your sweetheart?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m single. They’re for my Grandma Trudy.”

  A warmth seems to wash over Myra. “That’s so thoughtful. Any granny would love fresh flowers from their grandson. Does she have a favorite?”

  I pull off my ball cap and scratch my head. “Roses, I suppose.”

  She nods, then bends over, and damn, her ass is round. My cock twitches as she eyes each rose bouquet. She picks one, and turns to me, her tits pushed together — and she asks what I think.

  “I think they look great,” I say, trying to fix my gaze on the flowers, not her breasts. But damn, it’s hard because they look so damn good.

  “Peach is my favorite rose color too.”

  “You a Southern peach?” I ask.

  She laughs. “I suppose I am. I just moved here from Georgia a month ago.”

  Myra

  He takes the roses from me, and I try to ignore the electricity I feel when our fingers brush. “Why’d you move across the country?” Major asks.

  I drop my gaze then, a shadow casting over the store. “Just needed a fresh start,” I say softly.

  “I just moved back myself,” he tells me.

  “You grew up here?”

  He nods. “Yeah, my Grandma Trudy raised me. Best woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Hence the flowers,” I say, pushing away my past. “Lucky woman.”

  Now it’s Major’s turn to frown. “In some ways, maybe. But she’s just fought cancer, she’s in remission now, and can’t do the things she loves for the time being.”

  I set a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know.”

  He gives me a smile. “Don’t apologize. Life is like that, isn’t it? Never how you expect.”

  Understanding the sentiment all too well, I nod. “My grandma always told me when life gives you lemons, make sweet tea.”

  “I like that.” Major’s eyes meet mine and we share a soft smile. “You love your grandma too?” he asks.

  I nod. “She passed a few years back.” Exhaling, I pull my eyes away from his deep green ones. “Gosh, that got heavy quickly.”

  “You scared of heavy?” he asks me.

  I laugh nervously. “To be honest, yeah. I am.”

  He nods. “Why did you move here?”

  “I pulled out a map of the USA and closed my eyes and waved my finger and here I am.”

  Major chuckles. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “So, you’re scared of things getting heavy, but you aren’t scared of starting over?”

  It’s my turn to chuckle. “I guess not. I just needed a fresh beginning.” Major smells the peach-colored roses and it endears me to him. “Is that why you moved back to town?”

  “Uh, something like that.” He seems to clam up and I wish I knew why.

  “Right. Well, should I ring you up?” I move to the cash register and he follows, the air between us thick with something I wish I understood.

  He pays quickly and I expect him to leave, but he pauses, his eyes finding mine again. “Would you like to go out sometime?” he asks.

  I fight the urge to say yes. Because in this moment, it’s what I want to say… but I made a promise to myself when I packed up my car and drove west — I wouldn’t let a man bruise any part of my body again, and I’d certainly never let one break my heart.

  And Major looks like a heartbreaker, through and through. He has all-American good looks, a charming smile and drool-worthy eyes. He’s tall — six foot five, easy — and when I touched his arm, it was solid muscle, pure panty-melting perfection.

  And a terrible idea.

  Not how a girl moves on.


  “Sorry, but I’m busy.”

  He frowns. “I didn’t even mention a time.”

  “Sorry Major, I’ve gotta get back to work.” And with that, I run down the aisle toward a customer. Yes, it’s cowardly —but it’s also self-preservation. And right now, that’s all I’ve got.

  Chapter Two

  Major

  Since moving back to town, I’ve started working out with some old buddies of mine. They are all members of a CrossFit gym, and so I joined too. Didn’t realize that in the last year, so many guys my age had gotten hitched. Makes me feel like I might be missing out.

  On a lot.

  I was an anomaly in the NFL world. Not that I would bring it up, but I’m a virgin with a capital V and I gotta admit — I’m ready to change that status. STAT.

  But it’s hard, ya know, after all this time. How do you go from zero to a hundred without it meaning something after waiting this long?

  Well, before today I didn’t have an answer but now, I do. Now I know. Myra is how I accelerate fast. With her, I wanna go all in.

  But damn, she turned me down fast.

  I need to know why.

  After our late afternoon workout, most of the guys at the gym are ready to head home to their wives, but when Grady asks if I want to grab a beer at O’Malley’s, I jump at the chance. I need to know more about his employee.

  “So, are you seeing anyone?” Grady asks as we walk to the bar down the street from the gym. I can tell this guy is getting fed up with his friends getting wifed-up.

  I chuckle. “Don’t get mad, but I was wondering what you knew about Myra.”

  “Myra? My Myra?”

  “Your Myra?” I laugh, pulling open the door to the bar. “I didn’t realize she was yours.”

  “She’s not. She’s just my employee. I feel, I don’t know, protective?”

  “I get it,” I say. “But do you know if she’s seeing anyone?”

  We grab beers from the bar and Grady shrugs. “Not that I know of. But I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Sounds good, man,” I say as we get a table. I want to press the issue, but I also get that Grady might genuinely not know the dating details of his employees.

  When his phone buzzes with an incoming text, I see his body language change from easy going to rigid in two seconds flat.

  “You okay?” I ask, taking a drink of my beer.

  “I’m good, I just gotta go.”

  “Really? Dude, you’re the one who dragged me out tonight.” I shake my head — this day is becoming a real letdown.

  “How about I make it up to you?” Grady gives me a half smile.

  My phone vibrates and I read the screen. Grady has texted me Myra’s phone number. “Really? Thanks, man.”

  “No problem. Just do me a favor and don’t go falling in love in twenty-four fucking hours like the rest of the guys?”

  I run a hand over my jaw, smirking. Thinking that falling in love in a day sounds a hell of a lot better than being alone. “I can’t make a promise like that, Grady. Can you?”

  Grady leaves a minute later, and I’m left at the bar with nothing but a beer. All want to do is give Myra a call. While it might be forward after she denied me a date, I figure if life’s taught me anything it’s that there are no guarantees. When you have a chance at what you want, you go for it. Even if it might blow up in your face.

  So, I give her a call.

  “Hey, Myra? It’s Major. Grady gave me your number.”

  “Oh, hey,” she says, sounding distracted. “What’s up?”

  “I know earlier you said you weren't up for going out, but what about staying in? I could order us a pizza and we could watch a movie and—”

  “I’m in the middle of something, actually,” she says.

  “Oh, right,” I say, getting the signal clear as day. She’s not interested. “Sorry for bothering you.”

  “No, it’s not that. I’m just in the middle of making dinner. But you know, I’m out of whole milk and I need it for this recipe.”

  “You asking me to buy you milk?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, and deliver it.”

  “So, is it a date or a grocery delivery service?”

  She laughs again. “I will pay you with a home-cooked meal. How does that sound, Major?”

  “Sounds like I’ll be over in twenty.”

  Myra

  I end the call not quite believing myself. I just asked the sexiest man I’ve ever met to bring me a gallon of milk.

  Who does that?

  But then I smile because the fact is, he said yes without hesitation.

  I text Major my address, then look around my little cottage wondering what in the world I was thinking. I haven’t had any visitors since I moved in and now, I invite over a man.

  And not just any man… a man that had me fumbling through work all afternoon. I could not concentrate… I kept replaying our conversation in my mind, thinking I was an idiot.

  Major is not like Troy. Troy was a grade-A douchebag who hurt me in ways that I will never forget. I refuse to. I want to remember because that way, I’ll never get myself in a situation like that again.

  How do I know they are nothing alike? I know because Major was out buying his grandma roses this morning. Troy never even remembered my birthday.

  I spent the last few hours beating myself up for turning down what could have been a good thing. But then Major called. He tried again. He didn’t give up on me. And that counts for something, doesn’t it?

  I decide it does.

  While I wish I had more time to freshen up and make sure my place looks okay, I have noodles boiling in a pot, chicken just battered, biscuits in the oven, and oil warming in the fryer.

  I turn up my Spotify playlist and turn on Otis Redding, my Grandma Maylene’s favorite. Then I set to finishing up her favorite meal. I’m swaying my hips and relaxing when the doorbell rings. “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” is playing, and a smile is on my face as I reach the door. I wipe my hands on my apron and take in the sight before me.

  Major holds a bouquet of peach-colored roses and a jug of milk, and he’s wearing a bright smile. The sky is still blue, the sun hasn’t set quite yet, and he brings with him a wave of heat that reaches from my toes to my core.

  I’m breathless and suddenly overcome with emotion. Maybe it’s the throwback music, the sentimental meal, or maybe it’s him. Major Owens. A man I just met today but feel like I’ve known for a long, long time. He is familiar in a way I’ve been missing all my life.

  “Can I come in?” he asks, handing me the flowers, “Don’t worry, my grandma got her roses earlier today, I grabbed these when I bought the milk.”

  I smile, appreciating the clarification. “Come in.” I let my shoulders fall and let go of the breath I’ve been holding since I left Georgia. “You can stay as long as you like.”

  Chapter Three

  Major

  She is cooking up a storm when I walk into her modest cottage. She’s got her hair in a pile on top of her head, a little red handkerchief holding it in place, and an apron is cinched around her waist. I want to tug on the stings, pull it off, but I know now is not the time for that. Right now, I have to win this girl’s heart because the moment I locked eyes with her in the garden center, she already had mine.

  “What are you smiling about?” she asks, reaching for a vase in a cupboard. She’s on her tiptoes, and I get a good view of her backside.

  “I’m just happy you let me come over. I wasn’t sure you would after you so easily rejected me earlier today.”

  She turns, the glass vase in hand, and she leans against the counter. “About that… the moment you left the garden shop, I had instant regret.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, stepping toward her. “And what did you find yourself regretting, Myra?”

  She licks her lips. “Saying no when I really wanted to say yes.”

  “Want to tell me why your first instinct is to deny yourself the good things
in life?”

  She lifts an eyebrow at me and sidesteps me to go to the sink, filling the vase with water. “And you’re the good thing in life I was missing?”

  “I think so, sweetie.” I step behind her at the sink, taking a chance and finding an in. I set my hands on her hips. She stills. But I feel that fire inside of her. The desire rising up. She turns off the water, sets the vase on the counter, turns to me. We’re inches apart. I keep my hands on her waist, taking her in.

  She lowers her chin, lifts her eyes, and I know she wants this as bad as I do. I pull her close, kissing her sweet lips and drawing her to my chest. She is a small, curvy thing in my arms and I won’t let go.

  She whimpers ever so slightly beneath me, and I kiss her harder. Her lips part and our tongues collide, and fuck me now, this woman has me hard as rock.

  “I want you… bad.”

  She moans for more, and I lift her cute ass onto the counter, standing square between her knees, and I kiss Myra like my life depends on it. And I swear, in this moment, I think maybe it does. Kissing her is the new beginning I need, the fresh start. the new chapter — all that shit. It’s her. Us. And God, she kisses like an angel.

  Then as quickly as it started, she pushes me away. “Oh no!” she shouts, leaping from my arms and off the counter. “Help!”

  Myra

  I can do a few things real well — one of them is kiss and another one is cook. The kissing, well, I know I made myself clear when Major made his move — but the cooking is up for debate as the oil in the fryer starts smoking.