The Woman by the Lake (Misted Pines #3) Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Misted Pines Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
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“You forget to eat a lot.”

“I live. I eat when it fits in. I work when I have to. I fuck when I’m lucky enough to coax a gorgeous blonde into my bed.”

“It took a lot of coaxing,” I joked. “I’m still not sure how you tricked me into it.”

“I’ll remind you tonight.”

As delightful as that promise was, I frowned as another thought I’d chewed on during my driving hit me. “We need to consider Ledger.”

“Yeah. And your shit stays in the closet in the guest room, but you bring your toothbrush and shower stuff up to mine. He won’t know.”

I didn’t know about that.

“Is it smart, hiding it from him?”

“I walked around a long time last night, and Bubbles and Angelica weren’t the only ones on my mind. I think you get it, but so you got it clear, this, where we’re at right now, isn’t about ending a good time by giving to, and getting from a fine piece of ass. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not that. Not even close.”

God, that was good to know.

He kept going.

“But while we ease into whatever it’s gonna be, we gotta ease Ledger into it with us. He and I had a chat this morning, and he made some good points. His mother was being a bitch, and he’s getting older. He felt he had call to have a say about her being a bitch to a woman who’s coming to mean something to him. I embarrassed him in front of Lucille, but mostly you, and he was understandably pissed at me about it. I still think he’s too young to be talking back to his mom, especially if that blends with talking back to his gramme, me, or now, you. But I gotta say, shit he said struck, and I need to get into a zone that he’s now starting to pick up some threads of the man he’s going to weave himself into, and I gotta be careful not to stand in the way of that.”

“I will, at this juncture, remind you of my assertion that you’re a really good dad, Riggs.”

That got me yet another smile, before he kept talking.

“But he’s not old enough to get how things have changed with us in that way. He already told me he approved of you, thinking that’s where we were that first night you had dinner with us.”

“Wow, that’s sweet,” I said happily.

“Yeah,” he replied, again smiling. “I told him we weren’t that. I’m not gonna sit too long on telling him we actually are that, but right now, my sense is, it’s too soon. Having you suddenly waking up in my bed in a way he knows that’s happening, especially when you’ll be back at the cabin when Gia comes to you. It might get confusing.”

I cut in. “I thought I was coming back tomorrow.”

He gave me another squeeze and stated firmly, “When Gia comes to you.”

Oh well.

Whatever.

“Okay, when Gia comes to me.”

“He’s not grown up enough to understand all the intricacies. Sometimes, Nadia in his dad’s bed, up and eating breakfast with him, sometimes Nadia is not. Where he stands with that. Him having me only part time, and suddenly having to share me. And in case I’m wrong, Angelica being under fire, and she acts on that shit with her kids, I gotta keep my finger on his pulse.”

“I don’t disagree with any of this.”

“Even so, I got you close, you sure as fuck aren’t sleeping in the guest room.”

“I don’t disagree with that either.”

“So we’re good.”

“We are very good.”

“Right,” he murmured, then he was all over me again.

We didn’t come up for air until he heard my stomach grumble.

I hadn’t had lunch either.

“I gotta get back to work,” he said.

“Turkey and Swiss sandwich?” I asked.

“Works for me.”

He dove in and kissed my neck, then rubbed his stubble on me.

Gooseflesh covered my skin.

Riggs got back to work.

I brought him a glass of water.

Then I got to work on lunch.

After we ate, I went to work on watering the flowers.

And we continued easing into it.

TWENTY-FOUR

We’ll See

Nadia

I was setting the dining room table at Riggs’s house.

Abigail had broken the seal on it, and I’d kept that open considering the view, the fact I loved Riggs’s gorgeous, round table with its intricately carved pedestal and beautifully veined marble top, and that, even though it was huge and seated twelve, we could sit on a curve and see each other in order to talk.

But mostly, so Riggs could sit with his legs under it and eat comfortably.

It was Friday evening and the last three days had been blissfully uneventful.

First, no “hauntings.”

Second, no break-ins.

Riggs had fixed the cabin’s back door, installed the storm doors and the cameras (and mounted my new flag, which I was right, it looked great out front), and I had a program on my laptop where I could see what was happening on all sides of my house and into the area by where the stables used to be. These feeds were sent immediately to a cloud so we could review them if needed.



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