Working Hard – Holidays with the Boss Read Online Loni Ree

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
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“Uncle Marco is my mom’s only sibling.” My girl relaxes against my side. “My family lived a quiet life in rural Connecticut. None of our neighbors had any idea my mother’s family is the infamous Dean family.” Hunter snuggles against me. “Until my parents were killed in a car accident.” She leans her head back on my shoulder and stares up into my eyes. “My life went from safe, dull, and boring one minute to always on guard the next.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I lift her chin with my fingers and lean down to cover her lips with mine. As she melts against my side, my cock wakes the fuck up. Ignoring the bastard, I remind myself that this is for the long haul. I can survive a little pain if it means keeping my little love for all eternity.

CHAPTER

FOUR

HUNTER

Brendan is coming to dinner tonight, and I’m sweating bullets. That’s an understatement. I think I might throw up. After our first date four days ago, we’ve gone out for coffee twice and have talked on the phone for hours each night. A thirty-something man willing to follow my uncle’s archaic dating rules tells me that Brendan is really serious about me. Which is a good thing, considering he stole my heart the first day we met.

Now, I need to find a way to make sure my uncle doesn’t ruin this for me. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I reach for it, hoping it’s a text from Brendan.

I’m on my way, little love. It’s been too long since I held you in my arms.

My heart melts at his sweet words. I hurry to send him a message.

You shouldn’t be texting and driving.

Darn. That wasn’t what I meant to send. My freaking mind and fingers aren’t on the same page.

I’m glad you’re worried about my safety, little love.

I take a deep breath and gather my thoughts before sending the next message. My hand shakes as I try again.

I can’t wait to see you. Be careful.

That’s better. I slip my phone into my pocket and glance in the mirror. The dark circles around my eyes scream sleepless nights. I wish I could say I’ve been lying awake having innocent dreams about him, but the truth is much steamier. My fantasies starring Brendan get dirtier by the night.

I slip on my gray sweater dress and spin in the mirror, making sure all my bits are tucked into the appropriate places. Once I’m satisfied that it all looks right, I find my shoes and head for the door. As my hand closes over the doorknob, I lay my forehead against the cool wood and take several deep breaths. This is it.

Rosita looks up as I walk into the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready on time.”

“Thank you. It smells wonderful.” That’s an understatement. My uncle’s housekeeper-slash-cook is a master in the kitchen. I’m surprised I haven’t gained a hundred pounds since I moved here.

Sitting at the breakfast bar, I watch her work and attempt to calm myself down before I make a huge fool of myself. My nerves are tying my stomach in knots, and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to eat a bite of Rosita’s famous lasagna.

“Good evening, cara.” Uncle Marco walks up and leans down to kiss my cheek, then he turns to Rosita and asks. “Your lasagna?”

A smile breaks out on her weathered face. “I wanted to impress Hunter’s young man.” I barely control my snort at hearing Rosita refer to Brendan Russo as a “young man.”

My uncle glances down at his phone and smiles. “He’s right on time.” I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the security system that sends alerts to my uncle each time a fly sneezes on the compound.

“Be nice,” I beg Uncle Marco as I follow him to the door.

“Me?” My uncle slaps his hand across his chest and smirks. “I’m always nice.”

Behind his back, I roll my eyes. Yep. Always nice. Until someone is unfortunate enough to piss him off. Then my “always nice” uncle becomes that poor sucker’s worst enemy.

“Good evening.” Brendan steps into the hallway and hands my uncle a very expensive bottle of wine before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Little love,” he whispers against my heated skin, and I almost melt into a puddle of goo. My girly bits wake up and squirm as his woodsy scent wraps around me. It takes every ounce of my self-control to keep from panting like a little puppy dog.

“Hi.” I smile. At least I hope it comes out as a smile and not a pained grimace. My uncle’s idea of dating sucks.

Brendan pulls the chair out for me, and I sit before my legs give out on me. I groan to myself as Uncle Marco glances over at Brendan. “Do you believe in premarital sex?”



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