Calamity Rayne Gets Hitched Read Online Lydia Michaels

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
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“Wait. Thirteen cakes are really waiting for me at home?” This man, this miraculous god of a man, had just delivered heaven to my house. He could just as easily be the devil himself. I snickered. “I have a fitting tomorrow.”

“So?”

“So…nothing.” The fact that he didn’t see a problem made me fall for him even more. “I seriously love you.”

“Ah, you see?” Chef Dubois cheered. “You are happy, so your groom is happy.”

“Amen to that.” I dusted the crumbs off my clothes and stood. People hugged their bakers, right? Screw it. I flung my arms around the pudgy man and—oh my, he smelled like childhood and world peace and cupcakes. “Thank you. This was the best day ever!”

He laughed and patted my head, which only made me love him more.

On the drive home, I couldn’t stop smiling. And every time Hale glanced at me, he chuckled.

“You know how some couples finish each other’s sentences?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“We’re not like that. We’re totally opposite, but you know what?”

“What?”

“You get me more than anyone else in this world.”

His fingers laced with mine and he squeezed. “I just like to see you happy.”

Lifting his hand, I kissed his knuckles. “You make me happy. Very, very happy.”

As soon as we got home I started packing but before I even organized my underwear my phone buzzed.

“Hello,” I answered, still on a pleasant sugar high.

“Meyers,” Remington’s brisk voice wailed over the line. “Those pigeons are back. They shit all over my car. Get down here with something to clean it up.”

“Remington, it’s Sunday.”

“Exactly. Alphonse is off.”

“So am I.”

“Meyers, don’t piss me off.” He was especially prickly and looking to punish me, probably for taking all his cigarettes.

“Fine. But you’re going to have to wait until I wrap up what I’m doing.”

“Good enough.” He hung up and I frowned. “That was weird.”

I only had so much winter clothes, so it didn’t take long for me to finish packing. When I carried my suitcase downstairs I stuck it by the door. “I have to go to your dad’s.”

Hale looked up from the couch where he sat with Elara. “For what?”

“Something about bird shit.”

He scowled. “Tell him to handle it himself. It’s your day off.”

“It’ll be easier to just go over there. I won’t be long.” I kissed his cheek then Elara’s head. Ah, the fancy life of a glorified assistant.

It was easier to walk down the beach to get to Remington’s than to drive this time of day, so I left through the back. The lights of the guesthouse were on so I assumed Andrew was home and enjoying his night off.

When I reached Remington’s house, I braced for his usual cigarette-withdrawal pleasantness. Last time I was there I threatened to muzzle him with a nicotine patch right over his mouth.

Plugging the code into the keypad, I entered through the sliding door. “Remington?”

The house was quiet and dark. He better not be out front smoking. I grabbed a bottle of window cleaner and a roll of paper towels, then headed to the front. When I opened the door, I came up short.

“What the fuck…?” A white Rubicon Jeep sat in the driveway, not a drop of bird shit on the exterior. Did he have company over?

I moved toward the garage and called for him again, “Remington?”

Hale stepped out from behind the Jeep, Elara perched on his hip, rattling a set of keys. “Surprise!”

What the hell was going on? I looked at the garage, but the door was closed. “Huh? Where’s your dad?”

“He’s in New England with Odette.”

“But he just called me…”

“Ma Ma Ma Ma,” Elara called as Hale crossed the drive.

“Do you like it?”

I looked at the Jeep and then back to him. “Um, sure. But I’m a little confused. Did you buy this?”

“With the money from the interview.” He took the keys from Elara and handed them to me. “It’s yours.”

My jaw dropped. “What?” I’d never owned a brand-new car. And I wasn’t used to big surprises—at least not the good kind. “You got me a car?”

“Take it for a spin.”

“You got me a…car. Like, for real, an actual car.”

He laughed at my shock. “You needed something more reliable.”

And something spider-free. I looked back at the Jeep and at him again. “You got me a car!” I rushed to the door and pulled it open. Buttery white leather with blue piping covered the seats. “Look at this radio!” I finally had cordless Bluetooth. “You even got a new car seat for peanut!”

I flipped buttons and turned dials, scrambling around like a squirrel on crack. Hale stuck by my side, vicariously enjoying my excitement.

“The interview really paid for this?”

“For the most part.”

I shook my head. He was like a money magnet. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Here.” He dropped the fob into the cup holder. It was attached to a glittery unicorn keychain. “Let’s go for a spin.”


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