A Love So Sweet Read online

  A Love So Sweet

  Sweet with Heat: Weston Bradens

  Addison Cole

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

  A LOVE SO SWEET

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright © 2018 Melissa Foster (writing as Addison Cole)

  Google Play Edition

  V1.0

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover Design: Elizabeth Mackey Designs

  WORLD LITERARY PRESS

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  A Note to Readers

  Treat Braden and Max Armstrong have a very special place in my heart. Their love story is the beginning of my beloved Braden series, and introduces you to some of my favorite characters, and to a family that has become so real to me, I feel like they’re always by my side. I hope you fall in love with them all just as I have.

  For readers who enjoyed the Sweet with Heat: Seaside Summers series, you might remember meeting Dane and Lacy, and hearing about Savannah and Jack. As you read each of the Braden family love stories, you will see how each couple met and fell in love.

  About Sweet with Heat Books

  Addison Cole is the sweet-romance pen name of New York Times bestselling author Melissa Foster, and Sweet with Heat titles are the sweet editions of Melissa’s award-winning steamy romance collection, Love in Bloom. Sweet with Heat novels conveys all of the passion you’d expect to find between two people in love without any graphic scenes or harsh language (with the exception of an occasional “damn” or “hell”). If you’re looking for a more explicit romance, pick up the steamy edition of this title, Lovers at Heart, Reimagined, written by Melissa.

  Within the Sweet with Heat series you’ll find fiercely loyal heroes and smart, empowered women on their search for true love. They’re flawed, funny, and easy to relate to. Characters from each series appear in future Sweet with Heat books. All Sweet with Heat books may be read as stand-alone novels or as part of the larger series.

  Sign up for Addison’s Sweet with Heat newsletter to be notified of the next release:

  www.Addisoncole.com/Newsletter

  For more information on Sweet with Heat titles visit

  www.AddisonCole.com

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  A Note to Readers

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Excerpt from Our Sweet Destiny

  Excerpt from Read, Write, Love at Seaside

  More Books By The Author

  Acknowledgments

  Meet Addison

  Chapter One

  TREAT BRADEN DIDN’T usually charter planes. It wasn’t his style to flash his wealth. But today he needed to be anywhere but his Nassau resort, and missing his commercial flight had just plain pissed him off. He owned upscale resorts all over the world, and he’d been featured on travel shows so many times that it turned his stomach to have to play those ridiculous media games. Most of the pomp and circumstance surrounding him had begun to irk him in ways that it never had before meeting Max Armstrong. It had been too many long, lonely weeks since he’d seen her standing in the lobby of his Nassau resort, since his heart first thundered in a way that threw him completely off-kilter—and since they’d spent one incredible evening together. Treat wasn’t a Neanderthal. He’d known he had no claim on her, even after their intimate evening. But that hadn’t stopped his blood from boiling or kept him from acting like a jerk the next morning when he’d seen her with another man in front of the elevators, wearing the same clothes she’d had on when Treat had left her the night before.

  He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Max since the moment he’d first met her, despite the uncomfortable encounter, but he’d been burned before, and he wasn’t into repeating his mistakes. Getting away from resorts altogether and spending a weekend with his father at his ranch in Weston, Colorado, a small ranch town with dusty streets, too many cowboy hats, and a main drag that had been built to replicate the Wild West, was just what he needed.

  His rental SUV moved at a snail’s pace behind a line of traffic that was not at all typical for his hometown. It wasn’t until he crawled around the next curve and saw balloons and banners above the road announcing the annual Indie Film Festival that he realized what weekend it was. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with crowds.

  His cell phone rang, and his sister’s name flashed on the screen. Savannah. Before he could say hello, she said, “I can’t believe you didn’t call me before you came out.”

  “Hi, sis. I miss you, too.” The only girl among his five siblings, Savannah was a cutthroat entertainment attorney, but to Treat she’d always be his baby sister.

  “You big oaf,” she said with a laugh. “I’m at the festival with a client. When will you get in?”

  “I’m here now, sitting in traffic on Main Street.” He hadn’t moved an inch in five minutes.

  “Yeah? Come to the festival and see me. I’ll wait for you at the rear entrance.”

  All he really wanted to do was reach his father’s two-hundred-acre ranch just outside of town, but Treat knew that if he didn’t see Savannah right away, she’d be disappointed. Disappointing his siblings was something he strived not to do. Having lost their mother when Treat was only eleven and his youngest sibling, Hugh, had been hardly more than a baby, his siblings had already faced enough disappointment for one lifetime.

  “You’re with a client. Sure you can get away?” he asked.

  “Who are you kidding? For you? Of course. Besides, I’m with Connor Dean. He can handle things for a little while. Come in the back gate. I’ll wait there.” Connor was an actor who was quickly climbing the ranks of fame. Savannah had been his attorney for two years, and whenever he had a public engagement, he brought her along. It wasn’t a typical attorney-client relationship, but for all of Connor’s bravado, he’d been slandered one too many times. Savannah kept track of what was and wasn’t said at most events—by both Connor and the media.

  “I’ll be there as soon as traffic allows.” After he ended the call with Savannah he called his father.

  “Hey there, son.”
<
br />   Hal’s slow, deep drawl tugged at Treat’s heart. He’d missed him. Hal had always been a calming influence on Treat. After his mother passed away, his father had pulled him and his siblings through those tumultuous years. But Hal wasn’t a coddler. He had instilled a strong work ethic and sense of loyalty into their heads, and that had enabled each of them to be successful in their endeavors.

  “Dad, I’m here in town, but I’m going to stop at the festival first to see Savannah, if you don’t mind.”

  “Yup. Savannah called. Treat, enjoy your time with her. She misses you, and I’d venture a guess that you could use a little extended family time, too.”

  He could say that again. Anything to keep his mind off Max.

  Chapter Two

  MAX ARMSTRONG DONNED her most comfortable jeans and her usual festival T-shirt on opening day. Chaz Crew, her boss and founder of the Indie Film Festival, had created so much buzz over the past few years that they were expecting more than forty thousand attendees. The festival grounds covered one hundred acres a few blocks from Main Street and boasted five new theaters. Also on the grounds were restaurants, gift shops, and a high-class hotel. Hotels in neighboring towns were booked a full year in advance of the festival.

  Whether there were twenty thousand or fifty thousand attendees, Max was ready. She was nothing if not supremely organized. She’d been handling the festival sponsors and logistics for almost eight years, and there was nothing that could throw her off her game.

  The afternoon films ran without a hitch, and so far, the celebrity speakers had made their appearances without any wardrobe malfunctions—a trick of the trade for gaining media exposure. Max ran a tight ship, and she was quick to nix any wayward thoughts celebs might conjure up.

  Max spoke into her earpiece as she drove across the festival grounds. “Heading to the rear gate now. I’ll check on Dean.”

  The ruckus between the celeb’s entourage and the media was creating a tornado of confusion. Photographers surrounded Connor Dean’s limousine and the two accompanying SUVs. She should have known this might happen. Dean was a local actor turned millionaire whose reputation had exploded since they’d booked him ten months earlier. She’d been wrong to think the Hulk-like security guards could manage a little drama. As she neared the scene, she rolled down her window and surveyed the ensuing chaos. Shouts and threats were tossed around like candy to children, and no one was making any headway. What on earth is that woman doing with her body halfway out of the sunroof on that limo? And what is she shouting? Legal jargon?

  Max parked right in front of the first SUV, threw open her door, and stepped from the car, hoping to create a long enough pause to get the crowd’s attention. When that didn’t work, she moved to Plan B, and climbed onto the roof of her car. She raised her hands in the air, and with a quick flip of a switch on the control panel on her belt, she turned on the intercom mounted above the gate.

  TREAT PULLED UP to the rear gate behind a mass of media surrounding a number of cars. He rolled down his window and was met with too many shouts to decipher. It was obvious no one was going anywhere anytime soon. He pulled into the parking lot outside the fence and decided he’d run in, say hello to Savannah, and tell her he’d catch up with her later at their father’s ranch. The last thing he needed was to deal with this type of headache.

  He heard his sister’s voice and swiftly scanned the crowd. If anyone was giving her a hard time, he’d set them straight. Savannah was standing with her body out of the limousine’s sunroof, shouting who knew what as the media hollered questions at Connor through the slightly open tinted limousine window.

  Treat leaned against the entrance to the gate, crossed one foot over the other, and watched his little sister in action. Her long auburn hair looked like fire against her serious more-green-than-hazel eyes. She’d inherited their mother’s spitfire personality and was the only one to have their mother’s coloring, while he and his brothers took after their dark-haired father.

  Savannah’s gaze shifted in his direction, and her scowl morphed into an excited smile as she hoisted herself through the sunroof like she climbed mountains for a living.

  Treat pushed away from the fence and headed toward his sister in full protective mode. She might be tough, but those media animals pushing their way forward could easily injure her. He plowed through the crowd. His six-foot-six frame naturally commanded more space, and the sea of paparazzi parted for him. He gently persuaded the few that remained in his path with a domineering stare—a stare he hadn’t needed to rely upon since Savannah was a teenager, when he and his brothers had spent countless hours keeping horny boys away from their precious sister.

  He reached up and caught Savannah as she jumped down from the roof of the limo. He spun her around and, as he lowered her to the ground, his eyes landed on a woman standing on top of a car. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her red-framed glasses perched on her perky nose. She looked fierce and beautiful, and Treat’s breath caught in his throat. Max.

  “OKAY, THE SHOW is over.” Max’s voice boomed from the loudspeakers. “Let’s give Mr. Dean some space to continue driving through. He’ll be signing autographs and answering questions after his appearance.” She scanned the area, her gaze landing on a man towering above the crowd with a gorgeous woman in his arms. He spun the woman to the side and his face came into view.

  Max froze.

  Treat?

  Her pulse soared, and the butterflies in her stomach she thought she’d annihilated weeks ago swarmed to life with a vengeance. She had worked with Treat’s assistant, Scarlet, for months coordinating logistics for Chaz’s double wedding, which had taken place at Treat’s Nassau resort. The other groom in the wedding was Treat’s cousin, Blake Carter. She’d dealt with Treat so many times over the phone that he’d become the object of her late-night fantasies. But even her fantasies hadn’t prepared her for meeting the impossibly tall, darkly handsome god that was Treat Braden, with his seductive voice and the way every inch of him screamed of adrenaline-pumping, heart-fluttering masculinity. She’d thought herself unflappable, but Treat had proved her wrong.

  Her stomach clenched just thinking about the magical evening they’d spent in each other’s arms. She could still feel his warm, sensuous lips on hers and see him gazing at her as though she were the only woman on earth. He hadn’t even pushed when, after hours of dancing and walking on the beach, kissing like they’d been lovers forever, she’d turned down his offer to return to his suite and extend their evening into morning. Seeing him now, she had a hard time reconciling that incredibly romantic, thoughtful man with the arrogant one who had blown her off the next morning. Sure, she’d been in the same clothes she’d worn the night before, and yes, she’d been out for the remainder of that evening with a man named Justin, but Treat’s assumption about what they’d done pissed her off. And the look he’d given her was too reminiscent of the painful relationship she’d escaped years earlier to chase him down and explain. She had every right to do whatever she wanted to do with whomever she wanted, without judgment. Even if she hadn’t done anything at all.

  She shouldn’t care what he thought.

  But she did, and that hurt because that awful look he’d given her was in such stark contrast to the impeccable manners he’d otherwise exuded, holding doors, thinking of the needs of her and his other guests before himself, taking extra steps to ensure that every little detail of his cousin’s wedding had been taken care of. The truth was, she’d fallen hard for Treat within a few hours of being with him. But Max knew she shouldn’t let those feelings sway her resolve. She’d been mistreated, demeaned, and judged by a previous boyfriend, and she swore she’d never go down that road again—not even for too-sexy-for-his-own-good Treat Braden.

  She stumbled backward. One of the security guards reached for her across the roof of the car, and she grabbed his arm, finding her footing.

  “Max! You okay?”

  The security guard’s voice wrenched her back to the
ensuing chaos. She tore her eyes from Treat and whoever the woman was that he was holding as if she meant everything in the world to him and tried to blink away the unexpected sting of hurt slicing through her.

  “Clear a path or you’ll be removed from the premises for the rest of the festival.” Even she could hear the difference in her voice, the weakness. Her gaze darted back to Treat, who was staring at her with an incredulous expression. Suddenly painfully aware of her jeans and T-shirt, the ponytail in her hair—and how she must look like a crazy woman standing on top of the car—she clambered down to the ground as the crowd surprisingly obeyed her orders and began to dissipate. Threats of eviction usually worked.

  She turned off the intercom and fumbled for her keys. Treat was heading her way, but she didn’t want to speak to him, couldn’t speak to him, after the way he’d looked at her.

  “Max,” he called.

  His smooth, deep voice was enough to make her body ache. She cursed under her breath as she started the car and navigated around the crowd. She glanced in her rearview mirror. Treat stood alone in his dark suit, watching her car, while his beautiful companion looked on with a confused expression on her face. Max’s hands trembled as she grasped the steering wheel tighter and drove away. Damn him for having this effect on her.

  Chapter Three

  “WHAT THE HECK was that all about?” Savannah asked.

  Treat couldn’t believe his eyes. Max. After all this time, he’d thought he had squelched the needs she stirred within him, but seeing the petite brown-haired beauty standing on that car like she could command the world brought all those urges rushing back. He saw right through her ponytailed persona to the sexy woman she tried so hard to ignore. What was Max doing at the festival standing on top of a car? Of course she was there, he realized. She worked for Chaz Crew, the festival’s founder. One phone call would have told him everything he’d ever wanted to know about Max, but he hadn’t made that call. His only goal had been to forget her—and he’d failed. Epically.