Small-Town Sweetheart (The Spring Grove Series Book 2) Read online

  Small-Town Sweetheart

  Spring Grove Series

  Toni Aleo

  Contents

  Before you get Started!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Excerpt from MISADVENTURES WITH A MANNY

  Also by Toni Aleo

  ABOUT TONI ALEO

  Copyright © 2018 by Toni Aleo

  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.

  Editing by: Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  Cover Design: OKAY Creations

  Created with Vellum

  Whiskey's supposed to drown the memory, I’ve gone from one to one too many. And the thing that really gets me is how your memory drowns the whiskey…

  Jason Aldean gets me… or better yet, Delaney & Reed!

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  Chapter One

  Delaney

  Wow, she is really pretty.

  How is she bouncing like that without her hair getting frizzy and all in her face? I know her lashes aren’t real, but are they a line strip or extensions? Because they’re beautiful, and I feel I may need them. Her boobs don’t look fake either; they look natural and happy and perky. Do mine look like that? Nope, not perky but huge. That’s a point in the win column, I guess. I wonder if she got her brows microbladed? I really need to go to Lexington and get that done.

  “You like it, baby?”

  I nod as John Aaron flicks his three rough fingers along my clit, but I’m too focused on how pretty this girl is in the porn we’re watching to even enjoy what he is doing. Though, he is a little rough, and to be honest, not at all enjoyable. I just need to get off. Focus, Delaney, you got this. I tip my head to the side as I watch this girl get fisted by the big guy who looks more like her daddy than her lover. He has tattoos down his back, which are sexy, and his shoulders are nice and large, but his face, whoa. Jesus, he wasn’t just beat by an ugly stick, but rather the whole damn forest.

  His brow is furrowed as he looks her over, and it’s killing me not knowing names here. I just don’t understand the dynamic. Is she supposed to be attracted to him, or are they just fucking? He walked in with a toolbox, but it’s just off to the side as he slams his fist up her against that counter. Does she like that he wants to smack her with his cock? ’Cause I think he’s trying to.

  “God, this is fucking hot,” John Aaron groans in my ear, his cock hard and promising against my ass as he flicks his fingers along my pussy, missing my clit more than he should be, in my opinion.

  “Oh yeah,” I agree with gusto, and like I thought, the guy slaps the girl’s puss with his cock. That doesn’t seem hot to me—painful is more like it. I mean, he’s been beating her pussy for about ten minutes, and neither she nor I have gotten off.

  I just feel awful for her. She doesn’t look happy… Oh, well, maybe she does now as he open-mouth kisses her pussy. “Ohh, do that,” I urge, grabbing on to John Aaron’s jaw as I scoot back a bit from his greedy hands.

  “No, I want to watch,” he groans back, arching his cock into my ass as he takes ahold of my pussy and squeezes. “I’m about to come all over you. This is awesome.”

  His voice is low, dark, and full of all things dirty. I should be turned on. I should be ready to come too since we’ve been at this as long as the couple in the porn has. Lord knows, I need it. I haven’t gotten off in months… Okay, a solid year—since no one would date me after my little breakdown in the town square, but that’s beside the point. John Aaron likes me. John Aaron wants me, and I want him. Yes, I do, but then all I want to do is find this girl on the TV and tell her, “Oh honey, you could do so much more with your life! You’re too pretty for porn!”

  When the camera slides down her body, zooming in on the big guy’s tongue swirling around her clit, I make a face. How is her pussy so pretty? It’s all small, dainty, and hairless. No damn razor burn or bumps. I bet she gets a Brazilian done. I should do that, but then the thought of someone waxing my inners freaks me out. But really, why is her pussy so small and happy? Mine is thick and like a pillow. “Man, I wish my pussy looked like that.”

  Shit, did I say that out loud?

  “Oh God, me too,” John Aaron belts out, and then he promptly comes on my ass.

  I blink a few times as he jerks into me, his fingers basically pinching the lip of my pussy as he comes. Did he just say what I think he did? It’s one damn thing for me to want to have a perfect pussy, but he’s been doing mine for the last month, and he’s supposed to love my pussy.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  I turn my face, but he’s still in euphoria, his eyes closed, his lashes kissing his thick cheeks as he shivers with his orgasm. Must be nice. He isn’t an ugly man, but he isn’t “knock ya off your boots” sexy. He’s thicker than I would want. I want my man to be able to sling a barrel of whiskey and not get out of breath, but he’s kind. He has nice eyes, a soft blue, and a hearty beard that covers his thick jaw. His blond hair is tight and tidy. He’s the assistant manager down at the corner store, and he just got divorced six months ago.

  Plus, he wants to date me. In this town, that’s enough for me.

  Yet, even in my times of desperation, I feel the guy I’m doing should like doing me.

  “What exactly do you mean there?”

  He swallows hard, letting his head fall back. “What?”

  I stand and get out of his lap, reaching for his shirt before wiping my ass with it while big guy pounds princess pretty pussy behind me. “You agreed that my pussy should look like hers.”

  He blinks open his eyes, looking at me for maybe two seconds before looking back at the TV. “Del, have you seen her? She’s gorgeous.”

  Man, did someone hand this guy a shovel? He sure is digging himself one hell of a hole. “So, I’m not?”

  He shrugs. “You’re all right.”

  “I’m all right?” I ask, drawing out the words, but he’s still staring at the TV. I will be the first to admit that I am not skinny, nor am I perfect, but I deserve the same respect and love of any female out there. We’ve been dating for two months, John Aaron and I. So I feel that the explosive anger bubbling inside me is warranted. I’ll admit that I may fly off the handle every now and again. That I’ve been known to take a bat to ex’s cars, but in my defense, it only happened once, and he cheated on me. While people talk about what I did as if I did it yesterday to every dude in the town, I am not the girl I was a year ago. I have lear
ned from my ways, and I don’t need a bat.

  A shirt full of come is all I need.

  So with a calm, sweet smile that my mawmaw taught me to give when I wanted to cut someone with my words, I step up to him before getting eye level with him. “Hey, John Aaron.”

  His lips curve up in a grin I used to admire. “Yeah?”

  “Fuck you.”

  I smear the shirt in his face, and I walk out with my head held high.

  Just like my mawmaw taught me.

  I walk home barefoot past the softball fields with my flip-flops hanging from my fingers. The warm dirt of the road that leads to my house squishes between my toes with each step. I let my hair out of its bun, and my brown locks fall along my back as I bring in a deep breath. It’s a cool almost-summer evening. The sun is starting to set, and everything is settling down. Only a few more days until school is out—three, to be exact—and I just love this time of year.

  Spring is always gorgeous in Kentucky—the flowers, the trees, it’s all just stunning—but summer is where the magic happens. School is out, and the kids run amok, which I love. They need summertime just as much as the adults do. Then there are the parties in the town square. Man, we have the best parties. Full of whiskey, music, and bad choices.

  Some of my favorite things.

  When it’s the peak of the summer, the hottest time, the smell of whiskey from Old Man McElroy’s distillery envelops the town. It’s a welcoming smell that the whole town loves and appreciates since it means we’re making money. Tourists will be here in the fall for the new batch of whatever he’s cooking up, and it’s just all so perfect. The epitome of our little town.

  For me though, the beginning of summer means softball season goes into full swing.

  A small grin pulls at my lips. Okay, maybe that’s the only thing I look forward to in the summer because, man, if I don’t love softball. I’ve been playing since I was three. It was something my mawmaw did when she was younger. Since my sister Cataway, our cousin Holden, and I were dropped off on her doorstep when we were babies, she needed to do something with us. Throwing us into the sport she knew was her plan, and I’ll say it worked out for her. We love it. Gosh, we love it so much. I’m the best in the town—not to toot my own horn or anything, but it’s true. It’s why everyone wants me on their team.

  Soon, my grin falls. I’m thirty, I’m living with my mawmaw, and the only thing I have to look forward to is softball.

  Pathetic.

  “Delaney Kate, what in the world are you doing?”

  I look up, and of course, my mawmaw is sitting on the porch, like she does every evening. She is in her green housedress, her puffy white hair in a bun and a beer in her hand.

  She glares down at me as I call to her, “Coming home, you old bat.”

  “Why? I thought you were off to John Aaron’s.”

  I shrug as I walk through the soft grass that Theo, Holden’s best friend, just mowed. “Well, I was, but that ended.”

  She moans loudly. “Lord, girl, he’s the last guy in town that’ll date you! What in the world am I going to do with you?”

  “Get me a beer?” I ask as I climb the stairs. She opens her ice chest, the one that’s been beside her favorite rocking chair since the day I arrived on her doorstep. She pulls out a beer before handing it to me. “Thanks.”

  I fall into the rocking chair beside her in a huff. I drop my flip-flops to the ground and put my feet up on the railing. I can feel her staring at me with her knowing brown gaze that can still cut a man in half, but I ignore her.

  “So, what did he do?” she asks, and I shake my head.

  “You don’t even want to know.”

  “Lord almighty, Delaney. You have the hardest time with men.”

  “Ain’t that the damn truth,” I mutter as I open my beer and take a long pull. “I thought maybe he was going to last.”

  Mawmaw scoffs. “You know, you say that about every man you find yourself with.”

  “Yup,” I agree on an exhale. “Back to FarmersOnly.com.”

  She snorts with laughter. “Maybe try that fish one.”

  “Plenty of Fish?” I ask, and then I shake my head. “No, remember, that’s how I met that one guy Theo had to come save me from.”

  She nods. “Right. Then I guess we’re gonna have to throw you in the singles group at the church.”

  “Lord no,” I groan. Those are for the super desperate, and I’m pretty sure they meet up for cookies and orgies. Not my thing at all. Watching porn with John Aaron was already a little above my kinkiness. “I’ll find something.”

  “At least you have goals.”

  “I mean, I gotta get laid.”

  “Sure do. You’re an asshole when you aren’t getting any,” she teases, holding her beer to mine.

  I tap it with a nod. “As are you, Mawmaw.”

  “Oh, I know it. Thank God for Pastor Ryman.”

  We both giggle at that as we lean back, watching the Smith kids riding their bikes up and down the road. Some people would be disgusted that their mawmaw is sleeping with the pastor of the town church, but then, I’m proud of her. I hope I’m half the woman she is when I’m older. She’s just a cool chick.

  “Have you talked to Cataway?”

  I shake my head as I take another pull. “Nope, I don’t think she can talk for another month or so. I don’t know. She emailed me last week saying that she feels good about it and really likes the main guys that everyone is fighting for.”

  “That girl. She’s busy as hell.”

  “Horny is more like it.”

  “Aren’t all us Abbots?” Mawmaw teases, and I nod in agreement, a grin pulling at my lips. When Cataway told us she was moving to New York, we weren’t surprised. She had big dreams, hated small-town living. She is also talented as hell. A really great artist who is way too big for this town. She was doing well up in New York, but when she told us she was going on some dating reality show called True Love Seekers, we thought she was out of her mind. But then, maybe that’s the Abbot luck.

  We all suck at love.

  Mawmaw has been single for as long as I’ve been here. Pastor Ryman is the only one to last, but that’s mostly ’cause they hide their love affair. Or so they think. Everyone knows they’re getting down. He winks at her during services, for goodness’ sake!

  When the shrill of the phone rings inside, I look at Mawmaw just as she looks at me, and I quickly say, “Not it.”

  She glares as she gets up, placing her beer on the railing as she rushes inside to answer. I swear, sometimes it’s like living with my sister rather than my mawmaw. But I like it like that. I’ve always been her favorite, probably ’cause I’m most like her, and we just get along. Cataway was the rebellious brat growing up, and Holden was damaged, trying to find his way. Me, I did what I was told, and because of it, everyone in town adores me. Cataway and Holden were both so crazy, I had no choice but to be the easy one.

  “Oh no.”

  I bring my brows in at the shock in my mawmaw’s voice. That’s not good. Getting up, I walk to the door just as she comes to it, tears in her eyes. “Old Man McElroy has died!”

  My heart drops into my stomach.

  Oh no, is right.

  Chapter Two

  Reed

  “It was a heart attack.” I run my hands through my hair as my brother Devin goes on, “The funeral is this Friday. The will reading is Monday.”

  I inhale sharply, swallowing back the sob that was bubbling in my throat. The day started so normally. I woke up, worked out, showered, put my vet coat on, and came to work. I’ve been busy with patients all morning. Mainly just routine stuff, but I saved a dog who swallowed a shirt and then diagnosed a cat with acid reflux. Normal stuff because today was supposed to be a normal day. I just talked to my dad three days ago. He was fine, his loud and rambunctious self, begging me to come back to Spring Grove. But now…now, he’s gone.

  “I’ll leave tonight.”

  “Great,” Devin sa
ys, his voice rough with emotion. “Listen, um, with you being the firstborn and all, you know the distillery goes to you—”

  My stomach drops. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

  “Right, of course. Sorry, I’m just freaking out,” he says, clearing his throat.

  “Me too,” I say unevenly. “We’ll get it figured out. How’re Mom, Bryce, and Ambrosia?”

  “As good as they can be.”

  “Yeah,” I say, and it feels like a boulder is crushing my heart. “I’ll call Mom in a bit.”

  “All right.” Devin clears his throat, and my eyes close slowly. “I can’t wait for you to come home.”

  Home.

  Damn it.

  “I’ll call you when I get into town.”

  “Cool. See you soon.”

  I hang up and let my head fall between my hands. I rub the back of my neck, and I let my tears escape, hitting my desk. I can’t believe this. Dad was just saying he wanted me to come for a visit this summer—he actually demanded it—but I told him that I couldn’t. That I had to work. When really, I had no intentions of going back to Spring Grove. I got out for a reason, to get away from that small-town life. It’s hard growing up with everyone knowing everyone. Everyone in your business and knowing things before you even do. It sucked, and I hated it. Unlike my siblings, who loved it, I wanted more.