Dreamboat – The Hawthornes of New York Read Online Deborah Bladon

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
<<<<233341424344455363>74
Advertisement2


Delia is obviously free to do as she chooses. I have no standing in her life to request that she stay on this side of the ocean, but if she’s headed in that direction, I may need to clear my schedule for a week or two so I can plan a trip to Europe, too.

“Why do you feel that?” I try to enter the conversation without seeming obvious about it but as soon as the question leaves me, and I hear it out loud, I regret it.

“Instinct.” Matt taps the center of his forehead. “That and the fact that her friend reached out to her a couple of hours ago. She was a mess. I happened to call Delia right after she talked to that friend and I could hear the concern in her voice.”

Concern and a trip to another continent are two very different things.

I’m going to hold off on pushing my future surgeries on Matthew and Carolyn until Delia tells me if she’s getting on a flight bound for Portugal.

Jesus. I already have it bad for her. I need to pace myself.

“I thought instinct like that was only an identical twin thing.” Matilda laughs. “I know all about that because I am one.”

“Me too.” Matt raises a hand in the air.

Me three, but no one in this room knows that and I don’t plan on sharing that with either of them ever.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Delia

“Matty is spreading a rumor that you’re going to Portugal,” Callum says as he stands when I enter the café I agreed to meet him at.

I hug him before I shake my head. “What? When did he say this?”

He glances at the phone in his hand. “Ten minutes ago. He called to check on me and dropped that bombshell. I get that the cruise was a fail, Delia, but are you sure you need to leave town again so soon?”

I smooth a hand over his jaw the way I almost always do when I see him. My fingertips skim the scar that has become just another feature on his face.

It happened when he was ten and accidentally rammed his bike into the side of a parked car. The car’s passenger door mirror was already cracked when he made contact, so the glass that was protruding from his skin by the time I caught up to him, wasn’t all because of his reckless bike riding skills.

I fainted. Callum called for help and we both ended up at the hospital with stitches on our faces. It’s been nineteen years since it happened. The small scar on my forehead is barely noticeable now, but the one that runs along his jaw is always apparent when the right side of his face is in view.

It hasn’t impacted his looks at all, though. In fact, my younger brother has been stopped twice on the streets of this city in the past few years by modeling agents looking for the next fresh face for their online and print campaigns.

Callum always laughs it off, but his dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes are a draw to almost everyone who gets a look at him.

“I’m not going to Portugal.” I half-laugh. “Zelle was having a bad night. She called. I helped her and then Matt called me and I mentioned it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Leave it to Matty to lead me astray.”

I glance at the cup of coffee on the table. “Were you waiting long?”

“No.” He looks toward the counter and the trio of baristas patiently waiting for their next customer. “What do you want? I’ll grab it for you.”

“I’m good.” I rub my stomach through the blue blouse I changed into when I got home from Donovan’s a few hours ago. “I’m a little nauseous.”

“Did you eat shrimp scampi again?” he asks, motioning for me to take a seat.

I slide the strap of my tote bag over a corner on the back of the chair before I sit. “Gross. No.”

He lets out a deep chuckle. “Just checking. I hope you know that I’m sorry you got sick on the cruise, Delia. I want to make it up to you.”

He sits back down on the same chair he was on when I first arrived. He stretches his long legs out to the side, crossing his ankles as he does.

“You don’t have to make anything up to me,” I tell him. “I have a voucher to take the trip again when I’m ready.”

“I’ll cover the air fare,” he offers. “And anything else you need.”

My younger brother has done well for himself. He holds an executive position with a hospitality company that owns several restaurants in Manhattan and other cities and towns along the East coast. He travels a lot but always makes time for his siblings when he’s home.

“Other than food poisoning, how was the cruise?”


Advertisement3

<<<<233341424344455363>74

Advertisement4