The Sweetest Things (2 page)

She blinked at him. “Do I need to reach for my mace? I
will
reach for my mace.”

Lips curling, he swiped a finger down her nose. “You’re so cute when you try to threaten me.”

Harper smacked his hand. “Is there any way for me to stop the pilots and put your ass back on the plane?”

His gaze was wide and innocent when he said, “But then you would miss me, because I am, in fact, the light of your life.”

“You’re the bane of my existence.”

“You adore me.”

“I loathe you.”

“You want me here.”

“I don’t know
why
you’re here.”

They stopped, staring at one another for what seemed like an eternity when it was just a few short seconds. Konstantine held his arms out, and Harper easily walked into them. This time the hug wasn’t teasing or playful. It wasn’t forced or done for annoyance’s sake. It was warm and honest and something she needed more than anything.

The sound of his heartbeat steadily drumming through her ears, the feel of his arms embracing her, the smell of his cologne—they were all things that settled her soul. It didn’t occur to her maybe that should’ve freaked her out. All she knew was her best friend was holding her, rocking back and forth, and it had been nearly six years since she’d had this pleasure.

When they pulled back, she was surprised when he cupped her cheeks and swiped tears away that she hadn’t known escaped.

“You crying, Sweets?”

Harper snorted. “Its all that cologne you’re wearing. It started choking me. I felt like I was dying a slow death at the hands of Giorgio Armani.”

For her smart mouth, he smushed her cheeks on either side with one hand until her lips puckered out before moving her head from side to side. “So damn cute!”

He stopped when she started flailing.

***

It really didn’t matter she’d fed him that line of bullshit about being choked to death by his cologne—his Sweets was as affected as he was at the moment. She’d missed him too. He knew it from the way Harper had clutched him seconds ago.

Konstantine could’ve stood in the airport like that for the rest of the night, holding her. He would’ve probably passed out from exhaustion after the eight-hour flight into JFK from London, but it would’ve been worth it. Seeing the way her gaze had lit up the moment it landed on him told him all he needed to know. There was so much they needed to talk about, so much he needed to fix, but right now...

“Koz, get your hand off my ass!”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “But...it looks so soft...and inviting.”

“Konstantine...”

It wasn’t as if he were lying. Harper had always been a cute kid, but as they’d gotten older something had changed. The gangly-limbed body that he remembered was long gone, and lush curves and voluptuous flesh had taken its place. At six foot five, Konstantine was used to constantly having to adjust the way he held and dealt with women, but Harper seemed to be more than a bit equipped to handle every inch of him.

The top of her head reached his shoulder, her height perfectly proportioned with her figure. He had memorized every angle of her heart-shaped face—which wasn’t hard since he’d been able to see it at least twice a month from the time he’d left White Plains years ago.

Her large, cat-like, gold-flecked brown eyes still had that same twinkle, her full lips curving into an all too familiar smirk. Her smile was as blinding as it had always been, one dimple flanking her left cheek. Her curly lashes thick. Her riotus hair stuffed under a baseball cap, the gold-tipped strands that escaped a perfect complement to her smooth, peanut-butter skin.

His Sweets was just as he’d remembered her, but so much more. Too bad she was oblivious to the “so much more” aspect. If he had his way, she would know soon enough. Instead of pointing that out, though, he simply kept his hand in its comfortable spot on her ass, moving up ever so slowly until his fingertips slipped under the waistband of her jeans and skimmed just the outer edges of her panties.

“Koz!”

“Well, well, well,” he murmured. “I see
someone’s
taste in underwear has changed since the days of Wonder Woman briefs.”

Harper turned around, slapping at his head. “What is wrong with you?”

He flashed her an easy grin, despite the fact that his cock was as hard as granite after feeling the lace of what was most assuredly a thong. “My little pastry chef apparently has a taste for
other
confections.”

“I can’t
wait
to take you to Owen’s.”

His brows winged as he pulled up short. Harper stopped walking and shot him a questioning look. “I’m not staying with Owen.” He said.

She frowned. “You get a hotel reservation?”

Konstantine shook his head slowly. “No.”

“So then where in the hell...” Her eyes widened. “You are
not
staying with me.”

“I can’t stay with Owen and Janet! Would
you
want to stay with Owen and Janet?” He loved his best friend and pseudo sister-in-law dearly, but they took the word inappropriate as a goddamn challenge. Of course he could tell her about the condo he had in Manhattan, but that would be rather unproductive for what he had planned.

Harper winced. “Let’s not even mentally go down that road.”

He pouted a little. “Please don’t make me stay there...
please.”

Eyes rolling, she turned and started back through the airport. “Don’t piss me off, Koz.”

“Not a promise I can keep, Sweets. Not a promise I can keep...”

***

“I see we’re bypassing the
don’t piss me off
rule!” Harper popped Konstantine’s hand as he turned the station on her two seater’s radio. They’d managed to successfully get his luggage without any incidents that would end with Harper in handcuffs.

“You are extremely slap-happy today.”

“Because I’ve told you about touching my stuff. Did we not learn anything from the time I bit you?”

“Aside from the fact that I need to keep my rabies shots on record? Um...no.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m going to beat you when we get out of this car.”

There was silence.

Stopping as airport traffic slowed their momentum, she turned her gaze to Konstantine, who was sitting silently, staring straight ahead. Taking a hand off the wheel, she pinched him.

“
Ow!”
Snatching his arm away, he rubbed it.

“You’re so damn immature!” Harper growled.

“You said it!”

“But you knew what I meant, you Russian mafia reject!”

He tucked his lips in then quietly said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

Konstantine waggled his brows. “I can kiss you and prove it.”

“Or I can put you out on the side of the road.”

“Why do you insist on being mean to me? I just wanna love you.”

Harper bit her lip and glanced at him out the corner of her eye. “No, you just wanna drive me bat-shit while you’re here, but I’ll be damned if you succeed. No matter how long I have to put up with you, your stay in my home will
not
end with me being read my Miranda rights.” Konstantine was supposed to be home for at least three weeks to visit. His traveling was apart of his job for his father’s business as a corporate and international lawyer.

He smirked over at her. “Not a promise I can keep, Sweets...not a promise I can keep...”

“Yo! Sleeping beauty, stop competing with my engine!”

Konstantine jerked up. “Wha...?” The soft chuckle beside him caused him to turn blurry eyes toward the source of the noise—Harper. He rubbed his face, drawing in a deep breath. “Please tell me I’m somewhere near a shower and a mattress.”

“Ah
…
” Harper’s voice was hesitant. “All I have is a haystack and an outhouse.”

Rolling his eyes, he reached over then slapped the bill of her cap downwards. “Shut up and help me get out of this coffin on wheels.”

She gasped. “How
dare
you? This is German engineering at its finest.” Rubbing a hand across the dashboard of her Audi, she cooed, “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, baby, don’t listen to him.”

He blinked at her. “If I find sex mix tapes in here, I’m gonna be really concerned.”

Harper’s eyes narrowed on him. “Out of my car, philistine.”

Konstantine snorted and swung open the door. “I see that innate strangeness has not—” His words abruptly stopped when he came face-to-face with her home. It was, to say the least, immaculate. She’d told him on the ride over, before he’d fallen asleep, that it was a modernized, three-story construct built in 1960 and nestled in Westchester where they’d grown up, but what she’d done with it was amazing.

“Sweets,” he whispered, a little awed. Standing in the wrap-around cobblestone driveway, he got a good look at the fresh-cut lawn and the seasonal flowers planted in various places.

“Awesome, huh?” she said with a small smile.

He shook his head. “Business must be damn good.”

Harper shrugged. “Outside revenue was the biggest boost before I got that distribution deal.”

She’d told him about that. It had started out as a small one. Sweet Treats—her patisserie—had been delivering fresh pastries to cafes and law firms for a few months, then Harper was approached to do it regularly for bigger places. That was pretty good, but the real business came in when she paired up with a well-known prestigious party planning company. They took her on as a contracted member to handle all special occasions.

Konstantine was so goddamn proud of her. He could say that. He
wanted
to say that. Instead, he snatched her cap and put it on his own head. “Show me where I’m laying my head tonight, wench!”

Harper stared up at him until he replaced her hat before he nicely asked, “Could you please give me a tour of your lovely home?”

“Having you here for three weeks is going to make me crazy, isn’t it?”

“Aw c’mon! Its gonna be great!” Konstantine threw an arm around her shoulder. “Like one big slumber party!”

She rubbed her temples. “Does that mean I’m gonna catch you in my underwear drawer...again?”

“Are you still wearing training bras?”

“No...” Harper answered slowly.

He shrugged. “Then, yes, you’ll probably catch me in your underwear drawer again.”

She gave him an extreme amount of side-eye, which just made him laugh. By now he was used to that look—had been receiving it for about twenty-six years now. Picking on Harper had always been easy. There was something about her that just made him want to prod her as much as possible.

Konstantine could still remember how, days after he and Owen met when they joined the same little league softball team, his friend had invited him over for dinner. They’d stood in the kitchen doorway, watching five-year-old Harper playing
Indiana Jones and the Last Cookie.