Firecracker (Honeybridge #1) Read Online Lucy Lennox

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Honeybridge Series by Lucy Lennox
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
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Easy enough for Reagan since I wasn’t sure he’d ever officially moved out. My brother was a sweet guy but way too caught up in my parents’ social sphere.

“Good for them,” I grumbled. “But I really do have to go.”

“I understand! I understand! You’re focused on your career. You’re a Wellbridge.” She heaved another breath. “Success. Is in. Your blood. But family is our strength, sweetheart. Why, your father, the Senator, often says—ooofumowowow!”

She let out a bellow like the warbling wail of a loon, and I sat up straighter in my seat, my temper yielding to concern.

“Mother? Are you alright?” I demanded. “Are you having chest pains? Should I call—”

“No, darling, I’m fine! Just doing my yogaerobics. It’s a newer, more refined form of yoga. I’m simultaneously meditating to lower my heart rate and doing cardio, all while talking to you,” she said proudly.

Yogaerobics? Had she made that up herself?

“But if you’re doing cardio, doesn’t that defeat the whole…” Belatedly, I remembered why it never paid to engage with my mother. You couldn’t have a productive conversation with a person who refused to hear you and could never admit they were wrong. It was as useful as… well, as screaming your frustration at the inside of your car.

Which I badly wanted to do just then.

“Never mind,” I sighed.

“Where are you, sweetheart? You sound perturbed. Are you perturbed? You’re not still driving, are you? Driving while perturbed can be so dangerous. And I do believe it’s illegal in Maine.”

Aaaaand there was my suspicion confirmed.

I narrowed my eyes at the pastoral country road ahead of me. Cows dotted the field past the tree break to my right, and bright green leaves shivered in a gentle breeze to my left, but I was only peripherally aware of any of that. “I live in New York, Mother. Why would you assume I was anywhere near Maine?”

“Well, I… Er. Didn’t you say so?” Mercifully, the huffing and puffing cut off.

“No. In fact, why would you assume that I’m driving at all?”

“The, ah…” She cleared her throat noisily. “Mothers just have a sense about these things. We love our children so deeply and want their happiness—”

“Mother,” I interrupted with saccharine sweetness. “What have you done?”

As if I didn’t already know.

“There’s no need to take a tone, Jonathan,” she tsked. “I didn’t do anything.” After a brief hesitation, she admitted, “It’s possible that when your father and brother and I were in New York last week—at one of your father’s political fundraisers, you remember? The fundraiser you were too busy to attend?” She gave a sad little pause. “The governor’s race won’t be for another year, of course, but everyone in Augusta thinks the Senator will be a shoo-in for lieutenant—”

“State senator,” I corrected automatically, rolling my eyes. “Dad is a state senator.”

“My goodness. There’s no need to be uncharitable, Jonathan,” she chided. “After all, it’s only a matter of time until—”

“Still waiting for the explanation,” I gritted out.

“Hmph. Well… as it happens, we ran into your boss while we were there, and would you believe, Conrad and the Senator knew each other back in college! He wouldn’t have made the connection to you, of course, since your father hadn’t taken my last name yet back then. But he said you never even mentioned you were related to the Senator.”

I ran a hand over my face. Conrad had said something during our conversation earlier today that had tipped me off to this, but I’d hoped to god he’d been joking.

He hadn’t.

“Why on earth would I?” I gritted out.

“Darling, why wouldn’t you? You’re proud to be a Wellbridge, aren’t you? To have a father who’s a senator?”

I gave up correcting her dubious use of the word “senator.” She was never going to change. “Of course I am. I just…”

Having a family with wealth and connections was a privilege, but I’d wanted a life where it didn’t matter that I’d been born Jonathan Turner Wellbridge III, the firstborn son of Patricia and Trent. The only way I’d managed to get away from their hopes and expectations for me was by moving to New York after college and staying there.

Though apparently, that hadn’t worked either, damn it.

“So, of course, Conrad and your father got to talking,” she continued, undeterred as ever. “Conrad mentioned how very well you’re doing, bringing so many vineyards and craft breweries under the Fortress Holdings umbrella for distribution deals. How you’ve made them the fastest-growing consumer products group in the country. How they call you the Rainmaker, the man who can close any deal with ease—”

“Not any deal,” I said grimly, thinking about my most challenging prospect yet, the one waiting for me at the end of this drive.

“—and I may have mentioned how very difficult it’s been for us, having you so far away and too busy to visit the way you once did. Reagan would do so much better with your influence. I told Conrad how very grateful we’d be if there was any way he could manage to get you home.”


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