Sweet Spot

By Frankie Love

The moment Candy walks into my chocolate shop, I melt.
This down-on-her-luck darling needs a job.
And I need to find this beauty's sweet spot.
When I do? Let's just say she's craving more!
But my life is complicated, and if this innocent woman knew about my shady side hustle, she just might walk out the door.
I can't let that happen.
This Valentine's Day is all about grand gestures, and I'll do what it takes to be Candy's man.

Dear Reader,
My insta-love novellas are NOT like a box of chocolates… you ALWAYS know what you're gonna get.
Committed heroes along with the women who love them, plus filthy-sweet scenes, and true love that conquers all.
This Valentine's Day I give you Charlie, a burly bookie who owns a chocolate shop. I promise his devotion to Candy is worth more than a golden ticket!
xo, frankie

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frankie Love
• Release date: Oct 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201682224

Frankie Love

Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men. As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters. She also believes in the power of a quickie. Get ready to fall in love … you deserve it! **Frankie also writes under the name Charlie Hart!

Book preview

Chapter One

Charlie

Everyone is betting on George. Me? My money would be on Red. Not that I’m a betting man. I just take the bets, never make them myself. No, I like to keep my money in the bank. Save it for a rainy day.

Still, I got into the bookie business because my pop passed away, and I was the next guy in line for the throne. Not that it’s in a castle, but there is a bit of an empire, even if it’s a shady one. The thing is, no one’s getting hurt, and so long as I’m the man in charge, things will stay that way. My pops was a fun guy to be around but I’m not sure anyone would say he was a good guy. He liked whiskey just as much as he liked money.

Booze has never been my vice. But I do have my weakness. Chocolate.

I’ll take sweet milk chocolate, or a dark truffle, a caramel centered confection — Hell, I’m not choosy. I’m just a man with a sweet tooth and a constant craving for candy. My dad always had the chocolate shop as a front for his bookie business, but it often broke my heart to know there was hardly any actual chocolate for sale here. He said chocolates were a good front for the bookie business because it took a long time for it to spoil and you didn’t have to dust it.

Hey, Johnny, I shout to my right-hand man. The crowded bookie room is filled with our regulars who are placing their bets and leaning over the counter to watch the horse races. You take over the records, okay? I’ve gotta go try and hire a girl.

Hire a girl? Johnny laughs. It’s about time you got laid, Charlie.

Not funny. I’m hiring a girl to run the front.

I sock him in the shoulder as I pass him, giving him the stink eye. I’ve never had a girlfriend, and the guys around this neighborhood always give me a hard time for it. I get it. I’m a twenty-six-year-old virgin -- not that I’m shouting that from the damn rooftops, but I’m a sucker with a penchant for all things old-fashioned. I’m waiting for the one. The only. The girl who takes my breath away.

I just haven’t met her yet.

So, you need to hire someone. What happened to your cousin Marissa? She was a great employee, Johnny asks, sitting down on a stool.

I throw my hands up. Yeah, until she ran off with the milkman.

You’re joking, Charlie. What year is this, 1955?

I know, right? I heard she’s happy, although my Uncle Earl’s pissed.

Johnny laughs while petting his dog on the head. He always has one of his dogs at his side. It’s just the kind of guy he is. I walk up the steps at the back of the bookie room and push open the door that leads to my chocolate shop. Johnny brought up a good point — it may not be 1955, but sometimes I wish it was. There was something sweet about simpler times when everyone wasn’t tethered to a goddamn phone. Times when people always waved hello to their neighbors and when men were still gentlemen.

But times are changing, the world keeps moving, and there’s a little less courtesy offered every day. Read Twitter for ten seconds, and you’ll be dreaming of a time when humanity couldn’t tell the whole world what they thought whenever they thought it.

So, I do my best to impart these old-fashioned ideals wherever I can. Yeah, I know most people wouldn’t assume that from a man like me — a guy who is 6’4" and head-to-toe muscle, who rides a bike — but what can I say? My ma taught me never to judge a book by its cover. The hardest part? Most people don’t have a ma like I do.

I look around the chocolate shop and take inventory. The depleted shelves are pretty much as they always are. Even though this may be a chocolate shop for all intents and purposes, we don’t advertise. We don’t want many people coming by, to be honest. And to make sure we looked legit, while at the same time unwelcoming, is the sort of thing Marissa took care of. Without her here, I can’t exactly run the business that I use as a front for my other business. The one that’s, ya know, not exactly legal.

My phone rings and I pull it from my pocket. Ma?

Hi Charlie, I got your message. I’m glad you’ll be able to come to dinner tonight. I haven’t seen you in ages.

I chuckle. I was over for Sunday dinner.

But that was four days ago! Anyways, your sisters are coming too.

"Alright, so are you at home now or