Fighting the Pull (River Rain #5) Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: River Rain Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
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Did I?

Dad kept talking.

“And this is why I wasn’t exactly upset with Hale for contacting Oskar. Although I don’t want one of my children to be threatened, Hale moving heaven and earth to sort something that was worrying my daughter is something I can get behind.”

“I’ll ask him not to threaten Oskar anymore, though,” I offered.

“I don’t think he’ll have to,” Dad shared. “Your brother and I had a kind of meeting of the minds last night. We’re oil and water, but he’s my son, I’m his dad, and somewhere along this journey for him, he’s come to understand his old man has a place in his life. It was a definite olive branch last night, and I grabbed hold.”

Of course he did.

“I’m glad for you, Dad.”

“Might be good you feel that out,” he suggested.

Ugh.

“We’ll see,” I evaded. “Now, you’re dating?”

The tension was out of his voice, something I’d never heard but loved to hear was in it, when he said, “She’s lovely. Perhaps you’ll meet her someday. Soon.”

“I’d love that.”

“I know you’re busy, and so am I. Is Hale back in town too?”

“Yes. I thought maybe we could have dinner sometime this week.”

“Just text me when you two can do it. You’re busier than I am. I’ll make it happen.”

“Okay, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, bubbeleh. Speak soon.”

He hung up.

I put my phone on my desk, but didn’t get back to work, because that was a lot.

Dad and Oskar mending fences. Hale wading in to set him straight. Dad dating someone. Mom and Adam breaking up. Mom looking for somewhere to live, even if she didn’t have a job and the divorce wasn’t final, so the settlement hadn’t gone through.

And the reminder that Hale was not a commitment kind of guy.

What was I doing?

What was he doing?

What were we doing?

Was he working on the assumption that I knew, since I asked, and he told me, then I told three hundred million (plus) people?

Or was I his Amal?

One thing I couldn’t deny, I wanted to be his Amal.

But it took George Clooney decades to find her.

So maybe not as smart and savvy after all.

Damn.

I stepped off the elevator that night, and Hale was walking to me.

I tipped my head for his kiss, and he gave it to me.

He jerked his chin up at Rocco, who the elevator doors were closing on, also who’d escorted me up, as well as escorted me from the car to the front door, then Hale asked me, “Were they assholes?”

“It wasn’t too bad.”

“Wine or cocktail?”

“Are you imbibing?”

“Having a beer. Got back later than I’d hoped, so I didn’t cook. There’s a place around the corner. Great Italian, fucking amazing pizza. Thought we’d walk there.”

Since we were now unofficially official, so it didn’t matter who saw us, why not?

Nugget of news: his question about assholes referred to all the paps who were now stationed outside his building and had just taken a million photos of me walking in, at the same time shouting questions at me. Thus, my need for an escort.

I’d seen one or two there before, but either they didn’t put it together, or I wasn’t big enough news, or they’d snapped shots and I’d just never seen them. It hadn’t been a problem.

Now, I could tell, considering Sunday night when we arrived it was an absolute onslaught, and it wasn’t much less now, it was going to be a thing.

“Sounds good,” I responded to Hale’s plans for dinner.

“Glass of wine before we go?”

I nodded.

He headed to the end of the island that held his wine stash and pulled out a red.

I slid on a stool, “Dad called today.”

“Hmm?” he prompted while getting the wine key.

“He’s dating someone.”

Hale’s eyes came right to me, and I endured his close inspection.

He then requested verbal assurances. “You cool with that?”

“Tickled pink.”

His lips tipped up, and he returned to the wine.

But Hale’s eyes came right to me.

Right to me.

Assessing. Knowing that was news that could go either way for me and he wanted to look right at my face to see which way it swung.

“Mom and Adam broke up. She’s looking for somewhere to live,” I went on.

“Coulda called that,” he said, reaching for the aerator. “It’s all fun and games when it’s behind someone’s back, but when it’s every day, the thrill is gone.” He glanced at me. “You gonna call her?”

“I should. I haven’t yet.”

He nodded and turned to nab a glass.

“Oskar came into town, though, to try to help her find a new place.”

“Yeah?”

“He and Dad had dinner. And apparently, my boyfriend threatened him.”

He stopped pouring and looked at me.

“Fucker couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” he bitched.

“Hale—”

“Are you pissed?”

I smiled at him. “Not even a little bit. Mom signed the settlement offer. It’s over. I’m not sure all the ins and outs of it, why it’s not official yet, but for all intents and purposes, it’s done. Without a lot of acrimony and heartache. So in the end, I owe you my undying gratitude.”


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