Meant for Stone (Meant For #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Meant For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
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“Hey.” Kristal, another ADA, sticks her head in my door. “We still on for dinner tonight?” The two of us started here at the same time. We both came from different schools but clicked right away, especially since we were always the last ones to leave the office at night. One night, I had leftover pizza and took it over to her. She was knee-deep in a case, and I don’t think she had left the office for two days at that point. The next day, she brought me a coffee, and from that day on, whenever we worked late, we usually shared dinner.

“Yes.” I nod. “You still okay?”

“I’m just so over today,” she answers. “It’s like the most Monday Tuesday ever.”

“Oh, dear.” I tilt my head to the side. “Should we go now?”

“If you’re free,” she says. I nod, getting up and closing the file in front of me. I walk over to the brown messenger bag I took from my father’s closet when I was in high school. It is so old there are little white lines in the leather from the scripts he used to put in it, back in the day. After I finish putting my files away, I walk over and slide my feet into my boots, putting my heels to the other side. I grab my big parka jacket, sliding it on and zipping it before grabbing my phone and slipping the crossbody messenger bag around my head, and walking to Kristal’s office.

She’s zipping up her own parka when I walk in. “Nothing says I’m sexy like wearing a parka,” Kristal says breathlessly as she takes off her own parka.

“Chicago is a toss-up. We could be in spring jackets tomorrow,” I say, “with rain boots, obviously.”

The two of us walk out of the office and head down the street to the little bar/restaurant we like to eat at. I take off my jacket and hang it on the chair before I sit down. I push the oversized sleeves up on my cream-colored sweater and pull out the brown pub chair. As soon as I settle, the server comes over. “Good evening, ladies.” He smiles at us. “My name is Steven, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“I’ll have a glass of red wine.” I look at Steven with a smile.

“I’ll have a pinot grigio,” Kristal says and he nods at us as he walks away. “I swear to God, when I’m done with this case, I’m taking a week off.”

“A whole week?” I joke with her, knowing full well she’ll take three days off and then die of boredom.

“Seven full days, six nights,” she confirms, and I just look at her in shock. “I think I’ll visit one of those places where they don’t even have cell service.”

“You mean jail?” I wink, and she laughs.

“That might not be such a bad idea if I wasn’t afraid of being someone’s bitch. Because, let’s be honest, I would definitely end up being someone’s bitch,” she teases, smiling and tucking her bleached-blond hair behind her ear. “Just the thought—” she says but then stops when the server comes over with our wine. She waits a couple of seconds for him to walk away before she continues. “Anyway, what’s up with you? How was the wedding?” She takes a sip of her wine. “Forget that, how was the freaking Oscars?” She shakes her head. “And in that freaking dress.”

Taking my own sip of wine, I answer. “It was surreal that both of them won,” I say, proud of the two of them. “If either of them was going to win, I was rooting for my brother.”

“So nice.” She smiles. “So the wedding, umm, hello. Who were all those hot-ass men in your pictures?”

“Um.” I take a sip of wine or maybe it’s a gulp. “Gabriella’s family is mostly hockey players.”

“Ohhh.” She smirks. “Sign me up for one of those.” I laugh nervously. “I need all the tea.”

“Well,” I start, and she hits the table with her hand, her mouth open, “I might have…” I think about how to word this. “A couple of months ago, I made out with one of them.”

“Excuse me?” Now her eyes go as big as her mouth that is still hanging open.

“Stone Richards,” I say his name, and I get a pulse in two places, my stomach and my vagina. Not sure if I’m going to be sick of him or if I want him to fuck me.

“Please hold.” She holds up her hand while she grabs her phone and pulls up Instagram. I see her fingers move across the phone and think this is a good time for me to finish my glass of wine. “Um,” she hums, turning the phone around to show me. It’s a picture of him on vacation, I think. His hands are in his hair, and water runs down his face. His eyes are the warmest brown I’ve ever seen them. “This man?”


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