Three Strikes and You’re Mine Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Forbidden, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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“Does the grill work?”

“Last I checked.”

I beam and shoot to my feet. “Great. Well, I’ll head to the store and pick up some provisions. I’ll try to go every day or at least every other day, that way I can get the freshest ingredients for you and Harper. I haven’t had time to do much research yet, but I’ll ask around about a fish market. I’m sure there are plenty of them in this area.”

He nods then points back toward the house. “Grab the black Amex from my wallet. I think I left it on the kitchen counter by the coffeepot. Use it for household expenses. I don’t expect you to cover the cost of our groceries. In fact, anything you need while you’re here, use the card.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

His gaze stalls on my sandals. “Are you walking?”

“Just to the bus stop,” I say to reassure him that it’s no trouble.

Still, he shakes his head like that won’t work.

“Take my car. The keys are next to my wallet.”

There’s no argument from me. Using his car will make it much easier for me to transport groceries. I thank him and wave goodbye to Harper before heading back inside.

Now, I’m no sleuth, but I can’t help myself. When I get his credit card out of his wallet, oops, his I.D. accidentally slips out too.

Luke Nathaniel Allen. His birthday is in September, and oh wow, he’s nine years older than me.

Miles was only eight years older than me, though why that matters, I have no idea. Maybe it’s my subconscious way of erecting clear boundaries for myself. I have obviously noticed Luke. A blind woman would notice Luke.

Now, that aside, I don’t make the same mistake twice. Well, there were those times I tried the at-home wax kit, but this particular mistake I will not repeat. I’ve learned my lesson. Swooning over my older off-limits boss will only land me in hot water. I know this. All I have to do is close my eyes and I can still vividly see Angie and Miles pressed up against Fig & Olive’s damn refrigerator, going at it. I do it now, as a reminder to myself, but that same sting isn’t there. Truthfully, the betrayal was always lackluster compared to the inconvenience of having to find a new job and uproot my life. I wasn’t heartbroken so much as annoyed by the whole situation. I don’t want to do it again. So, from now on, every time I see Luke, I’ll be picturing him in some kind of funny getup to counteract my burgeoning feelings for him. Big red clown nose. White bushy rabbit tail. Hot wax getting poured slowly over his naked body.

AH.

I grab his keys and credit card and get out of there.

Fortunately, to get to the grocery store, I only have to drive a car worth more than my parents’ entire net worth. Luke owns some kind of special edition Range Rover. No Corolla or Camry for Mr. Big League. Because I’m pathetically poor, I don’t even know how to open the driver’s side door at first. The handle is flush with the side of the car. I wave my hand in front of it like it’s a paper towel dispenser in a mall bathroom, but nothing happens, so I wave faster, harder.

Ned, of course, walks by and sees me doing this.

He says nothing, just pins me with an exasperated glare before continuing on his way, his cat trailing behind him with its taunting orange tail. I’m too annoyed to take stock of whether he still has his rake in hand, and by the time I remember to turn and check, he’s gone. Dammit.

Out of other options, I ingeniously press unlock on the car’s key fob, and the door handle springs out all nice and nifty. Simple as that.

“It wasn’t unlocked!” I shout for Ned’s benefit.

Once I slide into the smooth black upholstery, I notice how hard my hands are shaking.

To be clear, I have my license; my parents insisted on it even though we barely drive in the city. My uncle Antonio was the one who taught me how to drive. He was patient with me then, and I pretend he’s in the car with me now as I head down Ocean Drive at a snail’s pace. People lay on their horns, and I wave so they’ll go around.

“I’M NOT GOING ANY FASTER!”

The grocery store is less than a mile away, and yet it takes me twenty minutes to get there. When I park and turn off the car, the entire population of the Hamptons sighs with relief.

EIGHT

LUKE

I’m getting ready for dinner after swimming with Harper most of the day. When my sister calls, I’ve just showered and have my towel wrapped around my waist. I put her on speakerphone and toss my phone on the bed after I answer it.


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