The Scandal (Single in Seattle #2) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Single in Seattle Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
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“It was definitely a very sound investment,” he agrees. “I have two younger siblings, both sisters. Both a pain in my ass.”

I smirk, and Gray just nods solemnly.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No, I’m an only child. But, like I said, I have a million cousins that I grew up with.”

“It’s not the same,” Gray says firmly. “They didn’t live with you. They didn’t borrow all your shit or taunt you mercilessly.”

I laugh and reach for a third slice of pizza. “True. There is torment, but I was always able to go home and escape them. But you love your sisters. I can tell.”

“Not true.”

Still, his lips twitch, and I laugh out loud.

“Do you have cousins?”

“A few, but they’re scattered all over the place. It’s mostly just the five of us.” He drops his crust onto his plate and reaches for another slice. I stare at him in horror. “What?”

“That’s the best part. You don’t just cast the crust aside.”

He lifts his plate and offers it to me. “You can have it.”

I snatch it up, dip it in my ranch, and then take a bite.

“You aren’t shy about eating,” Gray observes.

“Nope.” I take another bite. “If you’re looking for someone who only orders salad and eats delicately, I’m not your girl.”

“That’s definitely not what I’m after,” he says. “For such a little thing, you can pack the food away. Where do you put it?”

“I still have room in my left leg,” I inform him and watch as his face splits into a big grin. “You’re an attorney. Answer a question for me.”

“Okay.”

“Isn’t there some kind of law or rule or statute that says a man shouldn’t be as insanely handsome as you are?”

His eyebrows wing up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t believe there are any laws out there regarding attractiveness.”

“Huh.” I push my plate away, finally completely full. “I think there should be. Or, at the very least, there should be a warning label or something.”

Gray laughs again, and the sound tickles my skin.

“I don’t see any tattoos,” Gray says, suddenly changing the subject.

“Excuse me?”

“This afternoon, you made a point of saying that you’re attracted to tattoos. But I don’t see any on you.”

“Maybe they’re hidden.”

He narrows his eyes.

“Okay, I don’t have any. I used to want some, but my tastes have changed, and then I just got busy and forgot about it. But I like them on other people. A lot. When I was a kid, I loved to sit on my dad’s lap and trace the ink on his arm. He has a sleeve.”

“So, you like tats because of your dad?”

“Maybe. But don’t worry, I don’t have daddy issues or anything. My dad’s the best. He’s strict and serious a lot of the time, and some people think he’s scary, but he’s the best.”

“And your mom?”

I smile as I think about my mother. “All of us cousins refer to our moms as the old ladies. But, honestly, they’re all so freaking gorgeous. And funny. My mom is a force, too. Smart as hell. And my dad worships the ground she walks on. Sometimes, it’s a little disgusting.”

We box our leftovers, and Gray pays the bill. Before long, we’re back in his car.

“Holy shit,” I say when I check the time. “Gray, we were in there for three hours.”

“We had a lot to say,” he replies as he pulls out of the parking lot and points the car toward my house. It’s dark out, and it feels like he and I are the only two people in the world as we drive through west Seattle toward my house.

When he pulls into the driveway behind Drew’s Jeep, I sigh.

“Okay, so…I don’t want this to sound wrong.”

“Tell me.” We’re both staring straight ahead. Not touching. Barely breathing.

“I’m not ready to go home.”

“Oh, we’re not.” He turns to me and grins. “Can I interest you in a walk?”

I take in that face illuminated by the reflection of the headlights and smile. “That would be nice.”

“Excellent.”

He surprises me when he grabs the bag full of our leftovers and takes my hand as we set off toward the Alki waterfront to walk down the sidewalk that spans about four miles. Because it’s dark, we can’t really make out the dark water, but several ships are lit up, making their way back and forth between the islands in the Sound.

For the next few hours, we walk and talk and laugh.

He holds my hand.

And when we sit on a bench and share the leftover pizza, we’re quiet and just take in the beauty around us.

“Why is it that I feel like I’ve always known you?” I ask as I brush off my fingers. “I know that might sound stupid—”

“It doesn’t,” he says immediately and takes my hand as the sky begins to lighten above us. “I’d say it’s recognition.”



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