Hate To Love You Read Online Shayla Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
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What the… “Tell me about them.”

“I don’t really know that much. The two oldest are real estate partners. They seem fantastic. Incredibly ambitious. They worked two massive deals right up until midnight before Christmas. Their wives are both sweet. Funny. Interesting. Perfect for them, honestly. And very pregnant. My younger brother is… I don’t even know how to describe him. A genius. And incredibly driven. We all have that in common. Socially, he’s a little awkward, but it’s because he’s always thinking about something technical. He runs a data storage corporation. He and his wife got married a few weeks ago and are officially moving here tomorrow. My sister is…” She sighs and I see the obvious admiration cross her face. “She’s vivid, confident, snarky, full of life. She’s pretty amazing. And she’s married to a former pro athlete who couldn’t be nicer. I’m just…trying to fit in with this big, loud clan.” Then color splashes across her cheeks. “And I’m talking too much.”

“Not at all,” I assure her. “I’d love to hear more.”

It’s fascinating to see this woman I sense is usually self-assured feel so out of place. Clearly, this isn’t a common experience for her. My head tells me I should be happy to see her squirm. Instead, inconvenient pity pricks me.

“Not much more to say,” she demurs.

“How did you all finally find each other?”

She gnaws her lip again. She does that whenever she’s not sure if or how she should proceed. “I actually met my younger brother in Seattle right after Thanksgiving. It was a business discussion. It didn’t lead anywhere, but when I asked for his help about three weeks later, he bailed me out of a tough spot. When my siblings discovered I planned to spend the holidays alone, they invited me. Actually, they kind of insisted.”

The snarky side of me wants to point out that it’s no surprise she had no one to spend this season with. Who wants to spend time with a scam artist? But I’m human, too. I can’t imagine spending the holidays utterly alone. It was a somber Christmas, just me and my brothers. But I would have gone batshit if I hadn’t had them.

“Your family sounds awesome.”

“They are, but I’m hoping tips continue to be lucrative so I can stop imposing on them and get a place of my own. I don’t want them to think I’m taking advantage of their hospitality.”

Is she pretending she has a moral compass? Or does she think that sounds like the right thing to say?

“You didn’t have any more family left in California?”

Bethany doesn’t answer for a long while. “Like I said, it’s complicated. Who did you spend Christmas with?”

Just like that, she’s done opening up. I count it as a win for now. I know more about her than I did when we walked into this place, and it’s only day one. I knew before I started this ploy that I would have to be patient.

Even though it chafes to tactically retreat, I do it with a smile. “My younger brothers. They’re in college and they’re a pain in my ass, but I love them.”

“So what did you do in North Dakota?”

“Besides freeze my balls off?” I joke, both to lighten the mood and to distract her from the fact I’m not answering that question.

My dad never told me too much about Bethany. He probably didn’t know a lot about her personally—likely by her design. She’s interesting…but not warm. My dad, on the other hand, would probably have told her all about his three sons, and probably more than once. I doubt she absorbed the information; I know her type. She would have efficiently taken notes about his family and tucked them away in his file, then peeked at them just before each meeting to make sure she appeared engaged and interested. If I mention Bret’s and Bry’s names, that might ring a bell. I haven’t told her my last name yet—not that she’s asked. If it comes up, I’ll lie.

She smiles. “Besides that. I assume you tended bar?”

“Some. I did a little of a lot of things.” All oil-related. Becoming a jack of every trade tends to happen when you own your own business. “Since my parents are both gone, I’ve been running their company, but I’m selling it. Not what I wanted to do with my life.”

“Then what? Will you give up bartending?”

“I don’t know what’s next. I should get back to North Dakota, but…” Let her think I’m torn and lost and could use a friend.

“But maybe you’ll wait until spring? To preserve your balls and all,” she teases me.

“Which will damn near be Memorial Day, but maybe.”

As she nods, silence falls again.

Our food is ready, and an employee kindly brings it to us. I grip my hot coffee and study Bethany as she plucks a napkin from the dispenser and lays it across her lap. She’s avoiding my gaze now. She’s nervous.


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