Fluke – Carmichael Family Read Online Adriana Locke

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
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I lean back just in case the steam coming out of his head blows off his toupee.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” I say, my frustration from the past couple of weeks coming to a head. “My life has absolutely nothing to do with you. And if you continue to make me feel uncomfortable, I will file a report where necessary.”

“Oh, please,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “You and I both know the real reason you’re so defensive. It’s because you’re lying. And as soon as Bridgit finds out that you’re a liar—and she will because I’ll make sure of it—I’ll have your job. The job I’ve been working toward for the past six fucking years.”

“Fuck you, Chuck. Disrespectfully, of course.”

He laughs, the sound filled with hatred from his cold, black heart. “I’m not letting this go. I’m not going to stop pushing until I prove that there’s no ex-husband—”

An arm slides around my middle from behind me.

“Hey, Dream Girl. Sorry I’m late.”

8

PIPPA

Heat radiates from my face, and the room begins to spin. Vaguely, I notice Kerissa’s amusement, but I don’t have the wherewithal to register it.

Even if he hadn’t spoken, I would’ve known who was touching me. And the way he cinches his forearm around my waist—almost as if he’s creating a barrier between me and Chuck, makes my knees weak.

My body sags against Jess’s. He makes no effort to back away or to step to the side. His chest is hard against my back as his fingertips press lightly into the bend just above my hip.

Get it together, Pippa.

My head spins as I try to put together the pieces of the moment. I’m not sure what Jess is doing or if he knows my current predicament. How could he know? Did he hear my conversation with Kerissa the other day in Shade House? Did he hear what I was saying now?

Chuck flinches, making note of every move between Jess and me.

Game on.

Please play along, Jess.

“Jess,” I say, smacking his forearm. “You signed the divorce papers. You know you can’t call me Dream Girl anymore.”

My stomach flutters at the sweet and slightly silly term of endearment.

“We might be divorced,” he says, lowering his lips to my ear. There’s a slight apprehension in his tone that I pick up. Hopefully, Chuck doesn’t. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not my dream girl.”

Kerissa’s jaw drops, and hearts fill her eyes like she’s in a Looney Tunes cartoon.

The heat of his breath skirting across my neck makes me gasp. I buckle against him, my body moving against his just enough that he can’t miss it.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispers just loud enough for me to hear.

I exhale, the air shaky and filled with the swell of desire triggered by his mouth's closeness to my body. Did he say that to me—for me? Or is this a part of the role he’s playing?

I’m not sure I care. I eat it up all the same.

This is precisely why Jess has always been kept at arm’s length. My physical reaction to him with slight brushings of our arms or bumping into each other in a crowd is bad enough. But to have him touch me? Hold me? Whisper sweet nothings into my ear?

I may never recover from this. Ever.

As much as I don’t want to—as much as it’s the last damn thing I want to do—I lift Jess’s arm off my stomach and step away from him. Despite the heat of the Florida night, my body chills without his against mine. The pull I fight to reattach to him is maddening.

So I grab my margarita and take another swallow.

Chuck runs a finger along his bottom lip.

Right. Chuck’s here.

I clear my throat. Fire from the tequila fills my mouth. Images of me blowing a blast of flames at Chuck’s head makes me giggle. I realize I didn’t need that last drink. Kerissa must realize that, too, because she discreetly slides the glass toward her and out of my reach.

“Chuck,” I say, smiling broadly. “This is my ex-husband, Jess. Jess, this is Chuck. We work together.”

Jess extends a hand, side-eyeing me with amusement. Chuck shakes it with a heavy dose of suspicion.

“You two get along very well,” Chuck says, baiting Jess to say something he can latch on to. To prove his theory.

“Not every marriage has to end badly,” I say. “Sometimes, instead of having problems for years on end, couples decide to go their separate ways so they can have a peaceful life.”

He knows what I’m getting at—that his marriage could be a talking point if he doesn’t stop.

Jess slides a hand into his front pocket and smirks down at me. “I have loved this woman my entire life. I’m not about to stop now.”

Kill. Me. Now.

Jess Carmichael has never not been hot. I’ve seen him in a wrestling singlet, covered in drywall dust, with bedhead, and morning hair. Not from my bed in the morning, unfortunately, but bedhead, nonetheless.


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