Big Duke Energy Read Online Emma Hart

Categories Genre: Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
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“Kev. I know who he is and what he wants or doesn’t want from his life. He’s never lied to me or led me on. I decided to kiss him anyway.” I smiled, resting my hand on top of his. “If I get hurt, it’s because of the choices I made. And I’m okay with that.”

He sighed and pulled me in for a hug. “I think you got all the maturity allotted to our family. When did you get so smart?”

Laughing, I hugged him back. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“All right. Looks like he’s here.”

“They. His friend is staying and he’s coming.”

“His friend, huh?”

“No, Kevin. Behave.” I swatted him with my bag and walked to the door. There was a black Range Rover outsider.

Damn.

I was hoping it would be the sexy orange beast.

Then again, that only had two seats, and I couldn’t imagine someone hanging off the top of it on the country lanes around here.

It was the kind of thing Jeremy Clarkson and co. would try.

Now that I’d watch.

I opened the door in time to see Fred get out of the car on the passenger side and grin over at me.

He did an elaborate bow, gesturing for me to hop into the front seat, and I shook my head, laughing.

“Who is that?” Kev asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not your boyfriend,” I replied, tugging him out so I could lock the door.

“Oh, stop. I was only wondering. Is this one of those weird situations where all the people around here are hot?”

“Let’s go.” I was thankful I’d opted for flat shoes—well, platformed sandals—instead of straight heels tonight. It had been blisteringly hot all day, and it was still far too warm out. It was made worse by the horrid, thick stickiness that clung to every molecule of the air like it was being paid by Satan himself to punish us.

It worked with a light sun dress, even if it wasn’t your usual bar attire.

It was my usual bar attire.

“Hi,” I said to Fred, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Fred, this is my brother, Kevin. Kev, this is Fred.”

Fred greeted him with a warm handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you.” Kev smiled.

“Can we go?” Max asked from the car. “It’s going to be hard enough to get parked as it is.”

Fred motioned to the front seat once again. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and got in, and he closed the door for me. “Look at that,” I said to Max. “You’re not the only one with manners around here.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, but his lips were twitching up to one side into a tiny smile all the same. “Everyone ready?” He looked over his shoulder.

A pair of yeses came from the back seat, and he pulled away from the lodge.

“Are these karaoke nights really that crazy?” I asked, looking back at Fred. “I don’t trust his judgement on it, and I’m sure you’ve been before.”

Fred grinned. “They start pretty tame, but there’s a whole chorus of pensioners in this village who let loose after a sherry.”

“I feel like Max hasn’t adequately prepared me for this.”

“In his defense, there’s not really any way to prepare anyone for this. It’s one of those things that you’re just kind of… sucked into,” he said, and Max chuckled.

I turned around with a huff. “I’m going to regret this. I just know it.”

“It sounds fun,” Kevin said with a shrug. “It can’t be any wilder than some of the bars in London.”

“That’s what I said,” I muttered. “I was told I was wrong.”

My brother snorted. “Then it sounds like an even better night than I thought. Let’s go!”

• • •

“That’s a pig,” I said, gripping onto Max’s arm. “And it’s wearing a bowtie.”

He peered down at me, half-smiling. “Your cat wears a bowtie.”

“Yeah, but my cat is cute. That… is a pig,” I repeated, eyeing the giant pink and black pig wearing a neon yellow bow tie. “Why is it in the beer garden?”

He pressed his lips together. “Probably the same reason that chicken is wearing a tutu.”

“A chicken is wearing a what?”

He sidestepped, taking me with him. “A tutu.”

Yep.

A chicken was wearing a tutu.

If you could call it a chicken. It resembled a giant ball of fluffy white candy floss more than anything, but it was wearing a rainbow-coloured tutu.

“Why are there partially dressed farm animals at a karaoke night?” I asked. “Oh, God, is your grandmother here with a goat?”

“Probably Goatzart. He tends to be the best behaved one.” Max looked around. “Once a year they have a farm animal fashion show to raise money for the local animal rescue, and tonight is that night.”

“And you didn’t think to warn me about this?” I let go of his arm with a half-hearted tap on his chest.

“It’s not really the kind of thing one can warn about,” he replied slowly. “It would take quite a lot of explaining, and I’m not entire sure there’s really any way to explain it at all.”


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