Perfect Match Read Online Alexa Riley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
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“So I’m Cruella de Vil in this scenario?” I ask, and she nods. “Glad I checked. For a second, I was worried you might come up with irrational fears to keep me at arm's length.”

She’s silent for a moment before taking a coffee and pretending to really enjoy it. I don’t bother to hide my grin as I watch her squirm.

“All right, let’s talk about strategy. What are we going to say to Chef Jade?” She’s serious now that she’s caffeinated and full of carbs.

“Don’t you think it’s better to let her vision come to life? I mean, remember episode three and the garden tower she created? It was unreal.”

“I can’t believe you watch her show.” Briar has a look in her eyes I can’t explain. Is it surprise?

“Are you kidding me? She’s so talented, and everything looks like it tastes amazing. That’s not easy to do. When she opened her shop in the city, I waited outside all night so I could be one of the first people inside.”

Briar nods and smiles as she sips her coffee. “It sounds silly, but when I would watch the show, I would dream about her making my wedding cake.” She looks into the distance like she can imagine exactly what she wants. “I guess having her create Meadow’s cake is pretty close.”

“Briar, you know Meadow better than anyone, right?” I ask, and she nods. “And you know that if she turned over this entire wedding planning to us that if you like it, so will she.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Then all you have to do is tell Chef Jade the cake of your dreams.”

FIVE

BRIAR

I let out another moan as the cake melts in my mouth. Mace is once again staring at me, and I lick my lips.

“What?” Maybe I have frosting on my face. I’m sure not going to wipe it away with a napkin and waste it. I'll be tasting every bite I can get.

“Nothing. I’m enjoying watching you enjoy the food, beauty.”

That’s the fourth time he’s called me beauty. I thought him waking me up and calling me Sleeping Beauty was only a tease. Then he said it again when we got into the SUV to head here and another time in passing when we discussed more wedding plans on the drive over. Now he’s said it again, and why the hell am I counting?

When we were young, Heath always called Meadow doe. It faded when we decided to hate them, but I was a little jealous that Heath gave my sister a cute pet name but Mace never gave me one. Then again, I wasn't sure how into me Mace was. He’s always been on the edges of my life, and I think I poke at him more than Heath because I am trying to provoke a reaction.

The only time I ever saw Mace worked up was when I walked in on him masturbating. He hadn’t been shy then as he kept stroking himself while his eyes stayed on me until he came. It was years ago, but the moment is branded in my memory. It probably doesn’t help that I think about it when I touch myself. It’s the only sexual fantasy I have, no matter how hard I try to think of something else.

I don’t understand why it doesn’t get old when the reality is it only deepens. My fantasy always starts the same, with me walking in, but then he grabs me and kisses me. Sometimes he pushes me to my knees to make me finish for him. Other times he pounces on me as if he can’t control himself.

Other than that one incident, I never noticed Mace paying attention to me, although he didn’t give anyone attention really. He started to push into my life when we declared war on the Monroe brothers. After that, they took every opportunity to bust up our beach parties and keep boys as far away from us as possible. It was annoying and drove me bonkers. It also made it clear that Mace didn’t see me as anything but the quirky little sister.

I get why Heath did it. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was in love with my twin. The two of them always made sense until he shot her down. Clearly, they’ve worked past whatever issues they had with us, which I’m guessing was our age.

Heath and Mace might not have been way older than us, but when you’re young, a handful of years can be worlds apart. We were still in high school when they went off to college, and then when we hit college they were working hard while taking over the family law firm.

“If I’m beauty, are you the beast?” I tease because old habits die hard. “You’re grumpy enough, and now you’ve got the beard to match.” One again he hasn’t shaved, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching up and touching the scruff along his jaw.


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