Making the Match (River Rain #4) Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Drama, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: River Rain Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
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It faded when he said, “I hate I hurt you. And I’m sorry I did. But I’m glad you called my ass on it, and we worked it out.”

“How about we continue to work through those things a bit more, though we can start doing that after the haze fully lifts, and maybe after we’ve had tons more sex?”

He didn’t evade.

Not even for a second.

He said, “That’s a plan.”

Okay.

Good.

And God, nothing better than a man who was willing to be real and put in the work.

I forked into my pancakes. “So…travel?”

“Melbourne, January. France, end of May. London, end of June. New York, September. I’ve got three years left on my contract. But I’d still want to do it after that, so I hope to negotiate another five years. Most times, I’ll do the Davis Cup, but those events are negotiated separately, due to commitments to my medical practice and my family.”

He then forked into his pancakes while I noted, “I like Melbourne, Paris, London and obviously, New York.”

His fork was arrested halfway to his lips, and it wasn’t moving.

“Tom?” I called.

He turned his head my way, his fork still unmoving.

“What’d you just say?” he asked.

“Well, we’re new, but I’m a pretty solid person, and my take on you is that you are too. In other words, as noted earlier, this isn’t a one-night stand. I hope we figure things out. But I’ve got a good feeling.”

I shot him a cheeky grin.

He just stared at me.

That was concerning, which made me keep talking, though it was more like blathering.

“So, you know, not to invite myself along, but if we figure things out, and you can have company while you work, and more importantly, you want it, it would be no hardship to go to any of those places with you. I mean, I might watch a few matches, if you can get tickets. But mostly, I’d be cool to tool around while you worked. Then we could do dinner, or I could go with you if you have some company stuff you have to do, and they allow a plus one. And, of course, we could fuck around the world, which obviously, we’ve proved in a short period of time will be all kinds of fun.”

He put his fork down.

He reached out.

He wrapped his hand around my jaw.

He then slid his thumb across my cheek.

And without a word, he let me go and turned back to his plate.

Although it felt lovely, I didn’t know what it was.

And then I did.

The Genny Show.

“You can absolutely come with me,” he said to his plate, his deep voice deeper, the timbre resonating all through me, then he took another bite of pancakes.

I was going to reply, but abruptly, his head whipped around.

In the next second, he looked to the ceiling, pleaded, “Deliver me,” and a voice was heard from the other room.

“Dad!”

“Oh fuck,” I whispered.

“In the kitchen!” he called.

Oh fuck!

“Tom!” I snapped low, “I’m only wearing your shirt.”

As for Tom, he was in nothing but a pair of fleece joggers.

“Good. Maybe she’ll take a hint and leave her father alone for once.”

“Well, well, well,” Chloe drawled.

I twisted toward the doorway to the living room.

And froze stiff.

Because outside the kitten gate, Chloe was there.

And Judge.

And Imogen Swan and Duncan Holloway.

She was even more beautiful in person, and that was saying something.

Lord have mercy on us all.

“Hey there,” I called stiltedly.

Chloe grinned.

Judge looked to the ceiling.

Holloway looked to his boots.

Imogen, her face running pale as a sheet, murmured, “Apologies,” and she dashed away.

A stunned Chloe’s eyes followed her.

Holloway went after her.

“Oh dear,” I whispered.

“Fuck,” Tom clipped, slid from his stool, kissed my temple and said, “Be back.”

He moved toward the gate.

“We’ll just…” Judge trailed off.

Then he nabbed Chloe’s hand, and they disappeared from sight.

Tom did too.

I dropped my fork and raced to Tom’s bedroom.

Tom’s master wasn’t just a master.

It was a master plus the bath in a way I’d never seen before.

It, too, had a sunken area that included a bed that was a mattress set into a platform (he also didn’t need nightstands). This was built against the area up top which was the bathroom exposed entirely to the bedroom, including the huge, double-wide, all-glass shower that was situated above the bed platform.

There was a large seating area jutting out from the house to the side. It had two-hundred-and-seventy-degree views of his gardens, with a walkout off to the front of the house that was a fenced-in terrace.

The colors were stone, white and exposed wood.

It was magnificent.

At that juncture, I didn’t see it.

I had on panties and bra and was pulling up my jeans when Tom stalked in.

Oh dear times a thousand.

I asked a stupid question considering the look on his face.

“Is she okay?”

His response was not delayed.

“Suffice it to say, she’s happy. She loves her new husband. She loves her new television show and revitalized career. She loves living between LA, Phoenix and Prescott. She loves Duncan’s boys. She loves our big family staying together in its way and getting bigger with what Duncan brings to it. But she was not prepared to see her husband of twenty years bare chested on a stool at his island sitting next to a woman wearing his shirt and having sex hair.”


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