Earning Her Love
Sweet Somethings Book Two
Rory Reynolds
Earning Her Love
(Sweet Somethings Book 2)
Rory Reynolds © 2020
Cover by Popkitty Designs
Created with Vellum
to everyone who struggles… you’re seen
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Rory Reynolds
Prologue
Margo
Where the heck is Lani? She was supposed to be here an hour ago to help me get ready. For the hundredth time, I’m questioning the wisdom of having an actual booth at the Apple Festival. Yeah, it’ll be great for our small town of Sugarhill to bring in business from our neighboring town of Clearwater, but this is so not my thing. I’d rather be at my bakery serving up treats than here where there are dozens upon dozens of tourists who come to the festival every year.
I’m setting up the last of my mini apple pies when disaster strikes. The cheap table that the festival coordinator assigned me wobbles, and in the next second, two of the legs buckle. My first thought is ‘oh, crap’ my next is lord, this is going to be a disaster. I rush to grab the end of the table before all is lost, and I end up with a pile of apple desserts on the ground.
Of course, that means that instead of hitting the ground, they slide off the table and onto me. Soon enough, I’m covered in apple pie filling and sticky apple-honey from my apple-honey cinnamon rolls.
I do my best to hold up the end of the table while not letting anything else slide, but the table is freakin’ heavy and awkward on the soft grass of the field the festival is held in. Despite the fact that I’m clearly struggling, not a single person comes to my rescue. No, the other people selling their sweets and baked goods either completely ignore my situation or snicker at my predicament.
Crap.
Tears swim in my eyes, and I consider just dropping the darn table and letting it fall so I can get out of here and back to Sprinkled With Sugar. The baker in me can’t let so many of the desserts I slaved over for the last two days to be ruined. I nearly release my grip on the table when two big, strong arms encircle me from behind, and large hands grip the table on either side of my much smaller ones.
“I’ve got it, sweetness.” My eyes fall closed at the comforting rumble of Amos’ voice in my ear. “You can let go.”
I nod and duck under his arm. “Thank you,” I say with a shy smile.
I move quickly, pulling all of my desserts from the broken table and set them back on the cart I wheeled them over on. Once it’s empty, Amos puts the table's broken end on the ground and wipes his hands on his jeans to try and get the sticky pie filling from his hands. It’s then that I remember my own run-in with the desserts and look down at myself. I groan because I’m covered in apple pie filling and crumbs from the crusts. Not only on my clothes, but I somehow have apple-honey glaze in my hair.
“You okay?” Amos asks, obviously concerned. Probably because I’m once again staring at him like an idiot—something I do way too often in his presence. I can’t help it. He’s the sexiest man alive. If I could build the perfect man, he wouldn’t be half as gorgeous as Amos Webster.
No, my imagination isn’t good enough to come up with those fathomless hazel eyes and the sharp cut of his scruffy jaw. I’ve never considered myself the kind of woman who would swoon over such a big, gruff man, but here we are. I can’t get the image of his muscular chest and that sexy V that trails down to the promised lands out of my mind.
I’ve only seen him shirtless one time, and it’s burned into my memory. He was out jogging with only a pair of loose shorts that hung low on his hips. A hot and sweaty Amos is nothing to turn your nose at. Nope, all I could imagine is what it would be like to be underneath someone so big and powerful with his corded muscles and overall bulk.
My imagination runs wild anytime I think about that day. I can’t even tell you how many times my hands have snuck into my panties to the image of him stalking towards me in those gray running shorts with fire in his hazel eyes—those green and gold flecks burning bright just for me. My friends think I have a crush on Amos, but it’s so much more than that. I lust after the man in a major way. Not to mention despite his gruff, almost rude behavior towards just about everyone, I’m half in love with him. Him coming to my rescue today is just another moment in a long line of little things he’s done over the last year that have made my heart flip.
“I’m fine… a little sticky, but not hurt. Well, maybe my pride.”
Amos chuckles. “Sticky is a good look on you.”
My core clenches at the double meaning. That’s another thing about Amos… he is a terrible flirt but in this covert kind of way. Everything is an innuendo. He never straight up says anything that could be considered inappropriate, but there’s always this underlying sexual implication to his words that has my panties self-combusting every time he’s near.
“Thanks… I think?”
He licks his lips. “Oh, it’s definitely a compliment, sweetness.”
My cheeks flush with embarrassment. I might have a million dirty thoughts about Amos Webster, but I’m definitely not the type of girl to flirt ostentatiously like he does. I’m not sure what changed… maybe seeing our friends Lani and Torin finally figure out their
