Read Sweet Girl for Free Online

greatest thing to ever happen to my mouth. But that’s still a wild endorsement for your skills in the kitchen, Sebastian.” He looks pointedly at the lone lobster mitt I still have on my hand.
    “Sebastian was a crab, not a lobster,” Miko says, hopping up on the counter behind her.
    “You’re right.” He smiles at her indulgently. “My knowledge of crustaceans as immortalized in the annals of cinematic history is surprisingly sparse.”
    I clench my fist inside the ridiculous oven mitt, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of my taking it off. Since when did guys with perfectly sculpted arms and massive tattoos start using words like “annals”?
    Since when did I start noticing his sculpted anything?
    “What’s surprisingly sparse?” Landon asks as she walks back into the kitchen, wearing her workout clothes.
    She makes a beeline for the brownie pan and cuts herself a sliver.
    “The number of quality historical novels involving a Viking love story?” Miko answers helpfully.
    Landon throws the little weirdo a bemused expression.
    “That only really makes sense to you. You get that, right?” she says, cutting a slightly bigger sliver this time.
    “Doesn’t make it any less true,” Miko answers wistfully from her perch. “Now then, someone promised me booze, and if I don’t have a cocktail in my hand soon, I’m going to eat whatever’s left of this pan of stoner-delight. Landon, stop cutting one miniscule bite at a time and just take a whole piece.” Landon stops midslice to argue, but Miko ignores her and looks at me. “And Max, go put on some flipping pants, because Taylor can practice nonchalance for only so long, and I’m not sure he can help us with our timeline if he’s surreptitiously staring at your Iron Man chonies all night.”
    I open my mouth to answer her, but between the Little Mermaid reference, Landon slowly hacking away at my brownies, the Vikings, and Miko’s bossiness, I’ve lost some of the steam behind the tirade I was about to go on.
    I turn and head out of the kitchen, going the long way, all the way around the breakfast bar, to avoid walking past Taylor. If that jackass is inclined to check out my shorts, I’m not going to give him a clear line of sight.

    “And this one is?” Landon takes a sniff of the cocktail in her hand.
    The other six options I created are lined up on the coffee table between me, her, and Miko. Taylor took off right after they finished working out the timeline for the party this weekend. I stayed in the kitchen mixing the drinks, but I heard him claim he had other work to finish up that evening. Since it was after eight o’clock, I couldn’t help but wonder if his “work” had an IQ that was at least as big as her bra size.
    “That one”—I point at the lowball glass in Landon’s hand—“is an espresso margarita made with a citrus-infused simple syrup and a cinnamon-sugar rim.”
    “Well, that sounds like—” Miko starts in cheerfully.
    “The best I could come up with given the required ingredient.” I roll my eyes. “I told you both already, espresso-flavored tequila is an abomination.”
    I take a sip from my own cocktail, which remains espresso and tequila free. Landon does a weird little dance as she sips on the cocktail in her hand and then grins as she sets it to the side.
    “Well, abomination or not, Riverton Tequila is our biggest client and is currently making it possible for me to pay rent on time,” she says while making a note in the giant event binder she carries around for each party.
    “And how bad can it be?” Miko asks, pulling the tequila bottle over and pouring some into a shot glass to taste. “Tequila is good. Espresso is good.” She gives it an exploratory sniff. “It smells interesting.”
    I watch with a grin as she shoots the entire glass into her mouth and swallows, but I don’t fight my laughter as she battles the urge to spit it all back up again.
    “Oh my, no !” Miko points an angry finger