Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol #3) Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blame it on the Alcohol Series by Fiona Cole
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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He didn’t look away with his sip, and I mirrored him, feeling like a kid about to get reamed for getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I paid off your grandparents’ house.”

The bourbon went down the wrong pipe, and I sputtered. “What? Why?” I asked once I got my coughing under control. Of all the things I expected him to say, that hadn’t even registered in the same universe as my list.

“I owe you,” he answered simply.

“No. I’m doing this for Rae—and you. I like you guys. Besides, we had a plan to pay it off. I didn’t need you to step in.” My grandpa’s health had hit a few bumps over the last few years, and they struggled with the medical bills, but we were figuring it out. We didn’t need a handout.

“I have no doubt that you were able to take care of it. It’s the kind of man you are, and they’re obviously good people who raised you well. So, I paid because I can.”

I stood a little taller as if making sure to meet the standards of the man he saw me as.

“I know this situation isn’t ideal for you, so I appreciate you doing it. Whether it’s for me or for Rae. You’re a good friend to her, and we’re all lucky she has someone like you in her life.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He nodded, taking another drink.

Kenneth was a good man. He’d accepted me with a smile and a firm handshake the first time Rae brought me home from school. He’d taken the time to ask me about my intentions with Rae, but when I told him we were just friends, he never doubted me. My own father had been paranoid and never took the time to trust anyone—which led to his multiple marriages. So, meeting Rae’s dad had been refreshing. Other than my grandpa, he was one of the few men I looked up to. I didn’t want him to think I needed anything from him or give him a reason to doubt why I was friends with Rae.

“I’ll be paying you back,” I announced, leaving no room for argument.

“Interest-free if you have to,” he rebutted.

“Fine.”

Another nod. “If there’s ever anything else you need, you just ask us. You’re family, no matter what happens.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Unless you hurt her,” he added. “Then I’ll break all your bones one at a time.”

My brows shot up at the serious threat, and I huffed a soft laugh. “Now I see where Rae gets her ability to threaten from.”

Kenneth smiled, shaking his head. “Oh, no. That’s one hundred percent her mom. She taught me the skill when we got married like she had Rae. Except my wife is scarier, so I’d be more afraid of her than me if you hurt Rae.”

What about if I get hurt? I wanted to ask. I was at a much higher risk of being crushed to dust at the end of this than Rae. “I’m not sure anyone could hurt Rae and live long enough for anyone else to defend her.”

“Very true,” he admitted, smiling softly. I went to leave when his smile grew pinched. “She’s a hard shell to crack, but the shell is there for a reason. She’s been through a lot.”

Confusion pulled my brows tight, but I hid it behind a nod of understanding. I assumed Rae lived an idyllic life. Maybe I assumed wrong, taking her silence as nothing to talk about when instead I should have been asking questions to find out what shaped her.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Austin.”

He patted my back outside the door and left me to go find my wife.

Our room was better than any hotel suite. Across from the white bed was a balcony showcasing the stunning views of the ocean beyond. I was so distracted by the scenery I almost missed the running shower. A standing mirror in the corner of the room reflected perfectly, showcasing the wide-open bathroom door and direct line of sight to the shower. My body froze while simultaneously combusting, sending wave after wave of heat through my veins.

The frosted glass door hid the details of her body, creating a torturous shadowy display of all her curves and every move. My cock hardened, taking in the swell of her breasts, remembering the rosy hardened tips I’d glanced in Vegas. She turned, lifting her arms to wash her hair. It was like some kind of erotic peep show I never wanted to look away from.

On instinct, my hand pushed against my length, and I groaned at the contact. The sound snapped me out of my daze, and I blinked, forcing myself to look away and focus. I needed to get ready and get out of there. I glanced around for my bag, finding it tucked away in the closet, already half unpacked and missing my toiletries.


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