Made For You (Made For #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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“I’m going to go and give myself a high five,” I tell him honestly, and then he throws his head back and lets out the biggest laugh yet.

“Come on,” he says, motioning with his head as he walks past me and onto his boat. “I owe you a drink.”

I look at him, my eyebrows pinching together, and I wonder if I heard him right. “I’m sorry?” I ask, not sure what the hell is going on.

“You helped me out,” he replies, standing on his back deck, “by tying my ropes.” I tilt my head to the side as Beatrice comes over to me and circles my legs. “So for that, I owe you.” He turns walking into the cabin and over to the side panel where he clicks switches on.

“Is this a ploy?” I ask Beatrice. “Is he for real?” All I can do is stand on the deck, watching him as he makes his way to the captain’s chair inside and turns off the boat.

He then walks to the middle of the boat, looking out, putting his glasses on his head. “I’ll grab you a beer.”

Go home, my head yells out, but my feet are in control. Instead of just walking to my boat and ignoring him, just like he did me all those times, I walk over and step on his boat for the first time. “This should be fun,” I mumble.

CHAPTER 12

XAVIER

I walk out to stand on my back deck. “You helped me out.” I can hear the words coming out of my mouth at the same time as the ones in my head tell me to shut up. “By tying my ropes.” I watch Beatrice walk over to her, and I shake my head. Did we not just talk about this? I think to myself, but instead, I look at Vivienne. “So for that, I owe you.” I turn, walking to the side panel where I click on the electricity.

When I took up the anchor before, I was really hoping her family would be gone by the time I got back. I had wasted all day out there on the water and it was time to head back before high tide came in. I mean, technically, I could have stayed out all night, anchored there, but then what, was I never going to come back? So I started the boat and took my sweet time sailing back. The view and being on the water calmed me. My hands started to sweat a little when I knew I was getting closer, but I pushed through it. “It’s going to be fine,” I told Beatrice, who at this point was just lounging, living her best life. The yacht club got closer and closer, and I did a deep exhale when I pulled into my row. When I didn’t see anyone on the top of the boat, I thought I had escaped. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to look around the back of her boat at me. I focused on backing up my boat, and not hitting hers. I wasn’t expecting her to walk off her boat and come onto the dock. I also wasn’t expecting her to ask me if I needed help. I should have just told her no, but that is how we do it at the dock. Everyone helps out if they can. “Can I help?” she asked me, and I thought about telling her no, but the reality of it was I needed help securing the lines. She made me laugh when she asked me to throw it directly at her. The sound of my laughter was even foreign to my ears. When I went back in to park the boat, I thought about the last time I laughed. I couldn’t even remember. I parked the boat, looking out at her, watching her hands tying the knots. She tied one and then moved on to the other. The smile on her face was contagious, making me smile. She gave herself props, dusting her hands off as she did it.

I walk back looking out, putting my sunglasses on the top of my head. “I’ll grab you a beer.” I motion with my head, even though everything in me tells me this is a bad idea. That I should leave well enough alone. I already dodged a bullet with her father and brother today. How many times was that going to happen?

From the looks of things, they might be here more this summer, the inevitable was going to happen. I just didn’t want her to then turn around and tell them I was a dick to her. Not that it mattered, but I still didn’t want to be that guy. I didn’t want to be the man who I myself hated.

The walk over to the fridge is maybe ten steps, but it feels like it’s shorter. Opening the other drawer and bringing out the bottle opener, I take the top off. “Do you want a glass?” I ask over my shoulder, finding her sitting at the back bench talking to Beatrice. That dog knows everyone’s secrets. I laugh to myself. It’s a good thing she can’t tell any of mine.


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