The Godparent Trap Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
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I put a hand on Colby’s shoulder and said, “She was the best.”

“The very best.”

“She also chose the best.”

“What?” Colby looked up at me, bright-blue eyes shining with tears. “What do you mean?”

“Only that she was a great judge of character, and although”—I leaned down and cupped her chin—“I’m still horrified that you’re half an adult… you’ve been like a sister to her.”

“And to you too?” Colby asked.

I felt like I’d swallowed something too large, my heart felt too big in my chest, and the room felt too small. “Yeah, me too.”

Lame.

Colby deflated instantly, and I wanted to punch myself.

I’d had one perfect moment to tell her that I was attracted to her, to tell her that amid her chaos and constant need to talk she pulled me, and instead I was pretty sure I’d just called her my fucking sister.

Damn it!

Colby pulled away and changed the subject. “She told me that if anything ever happened to her to burn the box in the closet. At the time I thought she was being dramatic.” Colby picked up what looked like a spreader bar with cuffs attached to it. “Huh, same one from Fifty Shades, nice.”

I rubbed my eyes, hoping to get the vision of Monica and the spreader bar out of my mind. It didn’t work, probably because Colby was still holding it up as if fascinated by the locking mechanisms. “How does this even attach?” And wouldn’t Monica with all her matchmaking ways have just loved that?

I almost laughed.

Instead I watched as Colby threw the contraption around, still unable to figure it out until I said, “Wrists to ankles.” Whoops.

Her eyes lit up with interest. “And how would you know?”

“It’s obvious,” I lied as my cheeks heated. It’s not like I had one, but I wasn’t dumb and I’d been curious back when the movie came out, sue me. “I mean, I am a guy. I know the mechanics of… handcuffs. Wow, this is just getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I think you should keep talking.” Colby nodded. “But it’s fascinating. Tell me more about mechanics, Rip.”

I shot her a glare. “We can’t donate this. Nobody at the Goodwill wants secondhand sex toys.”

“Can you imagine? Dear old Grandpa walking in and looking for some sturdy handcuffs…” She started to laugh and then wiped a tear from her eyes. “Monica would haunt us for life.”

“Probably.” I wrapped an arm around her. “But at least they left us something to laugh about… there’s been too many tears.”

“So many.” She sniffled. “Sorry for being a wreck.”

I wanted to say sorry for staying too strong, for not crying, for not showing that I was mourning too. Instead I just held Colby close. “You’re not a wreck.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I am.”

“Then you’re a perfect mess… a perfect wreck… let yourself be the masterpiece of chaos.”

“Won’t that piss you off?”

“Me?” I hugged her tighter. “Nah, I think I’m beginning to think that the truly beautiful things in this world aren’t perfect. I don’t want perfect.”

“Y-you don’t?”

“No,” I said honestly. “I don’t.”

“Anyway,” she sighed. “Should we just keep it or bury it? The last thing we need is anyone finding it and thinking it’s, you know…”

My brain went in all the wrong directions.

“Let’s just keep the box for now,” I said when I’d found my voice.

“Wait, to use for later?” Her cheeks pinked. “I mean, not us, no, not that, I mean, like, why would we keep them?”

I pinched her arm. “I’m not into strawberry-flavored lube, I prefer chocolate.” Where the hell had that come from? “Let’s keep them so that whenever we get too sad we can come in here and laugh. I’m tired of being sad, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I really am.”

“Good. It’s done, then.”

“Sooooo, chocolate?” she asked.

“Not another word.”

“But you said—”

“—Colby.”

She pulled away. “Thank you, by the way, for being so strong. I cry over a T-shirt and you’re ready to box things away…”

“Honestly,” I said, looking away, teeth clenched. “If I start, I won’t stop, Colby. That’s not strength, that’s more like weakness and avoidance.”

“We all deal with grief differently,” she whispered after a few seconds.

“Yeah.” I stared at the pile of sex toys, then very carefully started putting them into a new box. A few Polaroids fell out of the last remnants of the pile and it was like a bomb going off in that closet.

They all fell facedown.

I stared at them.

Colby stared at them.

“I’m both curious and horrified,” she whispered.

“There’s no coming back from this,” I agreed, reaching for them. “You look, I don’t want to see my sister naked.”

“Well, I don’t want to see my two best friends naked! I walked in on them once in college and I’m still traumatized!”

“He was so loud, how did you not know what they were doing?”

“How do you know that?”

“Roommates.” I winced. “Trust me, I wish I didn’t know what he sounded like when he orgasmed.”


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