Sweet Dreams (Dream House #2) Read Online Stephanie Fournet

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Dream House Series by Stephanie Fournet

Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 134779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)


Tyler Mouton is half the man he used to be.
He can’t talk worth a damn. He can’t work. He can barely tie his shoes. He has a roof over his head because of Stella, his take-charge younger sister. The best part of his day is watching SpongeBob with Maisy, his four-year-old niece.
Until he stumbles into the kitchen in his underwear and lays eyes on her.
Nina Lemoine is desperate to start over. Again. This time, her life depends on it. But her track record on decision-making leaves a lot to be desired. If she forgets that, all she has to do is look in the mirror at her vicious black eye.
And if she can’t trust herself, how can she trust her scary, scowling, scarred roommate? Even if he does look at her like she’s made of gold.


Chapter One



“Don’t you touch the pizza in the fridge!” My sister Stella calls from the bathroom.

I chew and swallow the bite already in my mouth. “‘Kay.” The slice is missing a distinct, bite-sized thirty percent.

She’s gonna notice.

I shrug. Either way, she’s about to shriek at me. There’s still two pieces left in the Deano’s box. I shove the box back into the fridge and bite into what’s left of my stolen slice.

“What are you doing, Tyler? I can hear you in the fridge.”

Water splashes. “Hear you, T!” My niece Maisy shouts in her chipmunk voice.

I gulp down the too-big bite. “H-Hey. Maisy-Mine,” I chuckle.

“Tyler! Quit eating my pizza. That’s tomorrow’s lunch.” It’s not Stella’s full on shriek, but it’s getting there. She can sound like a damn train whistle when she wants to.

“T’morrow lunch!” Maisy mimics, scolding me.

I cram the crust in my mouth and make my apology around it. “Sorry, sis. It’s Deano’s. I couldn’t help myself.”


“C’mon, there’s still two pieces left,” I defend, crossing her small living room and moving into the hall.

My sister is kneeling on the bath mat, a sour expression on her face. My two-year-old niece is all chubby knees and round tummy, naked in the tub except for her stupid glasses.

“Can’t she take those things off in the tub?”

Stella blows her bangs out of her face. “Sure. If I want her to see nothing but fuzzy blobs.”

She’s glaring at me.


“You ate my pizza.”

“Just a third of it,” I defend, hands up.

Stella narrows her eyes.

“Fine. If you let me have the rest of the pizza, lunch tomorrow is on me.”

She snorts. “Where?”

“Anywhere you wanna go.”

Her eyes light up. Her mouth opens.

“E-Except Blue Basil,” I say in a rush. “That shit’s expensive.”

And she’s glaring again.

“How ‘bout Twins?”

More glaring.

“It’s close to the salon. Who doesn’t like a Twins burger?”

Stella narrows her eyes again. “You make a good point.”

“Point!” Maisy jabs her pointer finger in the air, splashing water onto Stella.

“Ah! Careful, Maisy.” She dabs her eye against her T-shirt sleeve, leaving a stamp of mascara.

My sister wears makeup like other people wear seatbelts. She can’t go anywhere without it. I think it takes her like twenty minutes to do her face. Not because it’s a bad face. She’s my sister, but all those assholes at Guidry Electric love to tell me how hot she is.


It doesn’t help that she’s always dressed to the nines with her hair blown out and her eyes smoky. Even at ten in the morning.

She says it's for work. That she has to look a certain way at the salon. I guess I believe her because as soon as she gets home, she trades her dresses and heels for T-shirts and yoga pants.

But the makeup stays on like she’s got a date. Even though she almost never does.

“You know, I can watch Maisy if you and Penny want to go to Legends or something.”

“You call her Penny to her face, and you’d better be wearing a cup,” Stella warns, nodding toward my crotch.

I snicker. “She was Penny when we were kids. Old habits die hard.”

Not really. I live to get a rise out of Pen. It’s always been fun. It used to be fun to tease both of them, but Stella’s always stressed out these days. And the only way she lets herself cut loose for a little while is with her best friend.

“What’s she up to tonight? Call her up. Y’all go get a margarita. Unwind a little.”

Stella glares. “And come back to find you’ve eaten all my stuffed pork chops? No thank you.”

I blink. “Y-You made stuffed pork chops?”

I glance over my shoulder toward the clean kitchen. No sign of a greasy skillet. No heavy aroma of sizzling pork, garlic, celery, and sage.

“Stop drooling, T. I made them yesterday.” I look back to see Stella dunking a plastic cup into the bath water. “Time to shampoo. Tip your head back, baby.”

My niece doesn’t hesitate. Of course, she doesn’t. A hair-washing from Stella is like the best thing ever. I have her cut my hair every three weeks just for the shampoo.