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    Give Me Chocolate (And Jordan)
    Give Me Chocolate (And Jordan)
    Give Me Chocolate (And Jordan)
    Ebook100 pages1 hour

    Give Me Chocolate (And Jordan)

    By Suzanne D. Williams

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    "Go ahead," I said calmly. "Yell at me. Once again, all I remember is Jordan. Oh, yeah, and I remembered where I kept the chocolate, too. Only now, I think I'll share it rather than eat it all myself or do you have a problem with that?"

    His reply came out a sort of hissing growl. "You cannot like my best friend."

    Only one thing appeals to Sedona Keyes as much as chocolate – Jordan Merritt, her brother's best friend. But her brother is against it, so in favor of family peace, she sets her feelings aside.

    When a horrible car accident robs her of her memory, Jordan becomes the only person she's sure of. She loves him, and he loves her. But what they have might not survive her brother's continued hostility or the time and doubt steadily tearing their love apart.

    Sweet Young-Adult Romance by author, SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne D. Williams
    Release dateApr 1, 2015
    ISBN9781507066805
    Give Me Chocolate (And Jordan)
    Author

    Suzanne D. Williams

    Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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      Book preview

      Give Me Chocolate (And Jordan) - Suzanne D. Williams

      SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      © 2014 GIVE ME CHOCOLATE (AND JORDAN) by Suzanne D. Williams

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      www.suzannewilliams.com

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

      CHAPTER 1

      IT WAS ONE OF THOSE days where my hormones were raging, and everything was out-of-whack. First, I blew up at my mom. She’d put my favorite tank top in the dryer on high heat, and it had shrunk. Either that or my boobs grew overnight. Doubtful.

      Then my brother, Gary, left a puddle on the bathroom floor. A puddle I stepped in while wearing socks.

      Gary! I stomped across the hall and into his room ready to pummel him. He was facing his mirror, running a comb through his hair.

      I yanked my sock off and smacked him with it.

      He didn’t appreciate that very much, and we got into a huge fight—me swinging my arms, him fending me off with the flat of his hand. I’d just gotten a claw into the soft flesh of his neck when I realized he wasn’t alone.

      Laughter from behind stopped me cold, and, eyes big as UFOs, I turned around super slow.

      If I’d just eaten a bucket of sand, my mouth couldn’t have been drier. Jordan Merritt. He was smiling, perfectly straight white teeth gleaming, light dancing in his eyes.

      Jordan was Gary’s best friend, and someone I’d known as long as I could remember. We’d grown up together. He spent nights at our house, ate our food, rode in our car. My dad had called him son and my mom doctored his cuts and scrapes. I could tell you what size clothes he wore, what his favorite colors were, what movies he loved and hated.

      He was as much my brother as Gary was. Or was supposed to be.

      There was the trouble. Unlike Gary, who would always be related to me, always have the same mom and dad, same brown eyes, same honey-colored hair, sometime in the last year it had hit me that Jordan did not. Completely unplanned and out of my control, he’d changed from my brother’s bf into something I wanted worse than chocolate candy. And that was saying something.

      My sock arched over my head, landing across my chest with a thwack. Gary started chuckling, and once again, I exploded. Wadding the sock up into a ball, I cornered him between his dresser and the closet door, with one shove planting it between his flapping jaws.

      Jordan was snickering again, and it was all I could do not to turn around and stare. I had to get over this attraction I had, become sensible. But I could feel his presence affecting me, could see in my mind’s eye things the average girl with a crush on the average guy did not.

      Jordan shirtless, playing football with Gary in the back yard. Jordan in the neighbor’s pool, dunking me beneath the surface. Jordan escaping the shower to dash across the hall wearing nothing but a towel.

      None of that had been shielded from me because he was one of us. He belonged here, like our dog, Gismo. But unbeknownst to my family, who accepted him in everything we did, all those little moments were now melting together in my overheated brain like so much ice cream on a summer’s day, and I would not be held responsible for my behavior as a result.

      Gary spat out the sock, his pupils dark. Get out of here.

      I obeyed, flouncing out the door into the hall. My mom was at the end with a pained expression on her face. She hated it when we argued. Guilty, I wrapped my arms around her and laid my head to her chest. Sorry. I’m on tilt today.

      She laughed at that. I noticed.

      I pulled back and proceeded toward the kitchen and stuck my head in the pantry. I mean, if I couldn’t have Jordan, then at least there was chocolate. One out of two was good.

      It’s early for that. Don’t you think? my mom asked, eyeing the bar in my hand.

      I proceeded to unwrap it and take a bite. Probably, but I either relax or the steak knives’ll come out.

      She chuckled lightly.

      I actually hate it when I get this way, I mumbled, my mouth full. It’s like someone sautéed my insides in rancid oil and served them up with a plate of live eels.

      That’s gross.

      Jordan’s voice came from behind. He was leaning on the kitchen doorframe. Man, he was fine. I stuffed the chocolate bar further in my mouth, aware I looked like a hog at the trough.

      But then, if I’d seen him over the years, he’d seen me. He’d done all the things young boys typically do to girls a shade younger than them. I’d been picked on mercilessly, had pranks pulled on me, been shut out and closed off while they played games I was supposedly too little for. He was there the Christmas my Aunt Barb gave me my first bra, had walked into the laundry more than once and found me chest-deep in underwear. What memories I’d formed, he’d formed as well.

      But accurate, I returned.

      He gave a crooked smile.

      Maybe we shouldn’t trust you to drive. This comment came from my brother who’d entered smelling like too much cologne. He was dressed for work, khaki slacks and a red polo shirt embroidered with the company logo.

      Where are you driving? my mom asked.

      I switched my gaze to her face. The mall. I have to buy a birthday gift for Janene.

      I can drive you.

      My head winged left. Had Jordan just offered to take me somewhere? I’d ridden in his Jeep before, but never alone. Always, Gary was there. Speaking of Gary, he didn’t look too happy Jordan had spoken, which was the other reason I had to get over my infatuation. Harmony. At no point in time, did Gary want to lose his best friend’s attention to his little sister, and I respected that.

      I’m sure she’ll be fine, Gary said. If she drives off the road, the road will see her coming and run.

      Ha. Ha. I made a face. I finished my candy bar and rose, tossing the wrapper in the trash can, then rinsed my fingers.

      Actually, my mom said. If Jordan could take you, I’d feel better.

      I twisted her direction, my hands tangled in the dish towel.

      "I

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