Wrapped in Love Read Online Lexi Ryan (Boys of Jackson Harbor #4)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boys of Jackson Harbor Series by Lexi Ryan
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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Jake nods. “I guess Carter might be able to—”

“Shut the fuck up before I knock you out.”

Jake presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “I’m so sorry. Is there a reason you don’t want your beautiful employee living with your flirt of a single brother?” He makes a face as he scratches the back of his neck. “Because I could have sworn you told me you weren’t interested in her like that anymore.”

I said I didn’t intend to pursue anything with Molly. Never that I wasn’t interested. But I’m not about to point out the difference to Jake when he’s dead set on making me feel like an ass. “I’ll make it clear she’s welcome to stay with me, but I’m telling you now she’d probably rather risk the rats at that Crawford Street rental than have to sleep in the same house as me.”

Jake’s lips twitch. “If you say so.”

Molly

“With the ice festival, it’s considered peak season. You’d be surprised how many people want to spend their holiday in Jackson Harbor.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and count to five. I’ve had this conversation half a dozen times today in my attempts to negotiate better rates on vacation properties. “I understand. I just thought that if I were staying a month or two . . .”

“If you pay two months upfront, I can offer a ten percent discount,” the woman says. “But that’s the best I can do.”

Two months at these rates would be like a wrecking ball to the meager savings I’ve scraped together since moving here. I have a good job, but too many months living in New York unemployed put me in a hole I haven’t fully climbed out of. “Let me think on it. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’m sorry I don’t have better news, but the owners don’t mind it being vacant over the holiday. They enjoy hopping over from the city for a night or two when they can, so they’re not very motivated to lower the price.”

“I understand.” I swallow. Spending Christmas in a hotel room is looking more and more inevitable. “I’ll be in touch.”

We end the call, and I close my eyes and take two deep breaths. Maybe Jackson Harbor has made me soft. I’ve dealt with much bigger blows than pre-holiday relocation. I can certainly handle this.

But I’m far too aware that I haven’t broken the news to Noah yet, and maybe I should have. Instead, I’ve decided I’ll wait until I know exactly where we’re heading at the end of the week. I don’t want to make any more promises I can’t keep.

I shut down my computer, grab my purse, and head out. I have an appointment with a guy who’s trying to sell his house on contract. It’s the last possibility between me and Christmas in either a hotel or on Mom’s couch.

As I step out into the back lot, I tug my peacoat closed against the sharp chill in the air. Winter never waits to hit Jackson Harbor. It likes to visit in November to remind us what it can do, and then settles in for good by early December. This year is true to form, and Noah has been so excited about building a snowman in our own front yard that the white powder covering my car is just another reminder of what’s on the line.

“Molly.” Brayden’s deep voice stops me right as I reach my car.

I turn slowly. “Hey, what’s up?”

I keep my eyes on his face. Not on that strong chest that I remember feeling so warm beneath my cheek, and not on the hands that took me by surprise when they first touched me—rougher than I’d have guessed for a man who spends the majority of his workday behind a desk.

“I just wanted to extend the invitation myself—for you to stay with me. Ava’s right. I have more than enough room, and it’s a reasonable solution.”

Reasonable solution. Hardly a glowing invitation.

I can see it in his eyes. He’s as wary about this as I am. “Thanks, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“You’ve found a better option?”

“I have some promising leads.”

He arches a brow, then whispers, “Liar.”

The word throws me back to our night in New York together when I called him a liar for pretending the text from Ethan didn’t mean anything.

“Okay, so the leads aren’t promising, but I do have some leads.” Maybe it’s irrational, but I resent Tom for making me deal with this now instead of a month ago. Christmas as a single mom means wearing a cape and doing all the things, and this year, the holiday is happening right alongside the grand opening of the banquet center and my public debut in my new role with Jackson Brews. I’m determined not to screw any of it up, but I’m feeling more than a little overwhelmed. “It’s too much to ask, Brayden.”


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