Making the Match (River Rain #4) Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Drama, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: River Rain Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
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She sat too. “Yeah, he’s like…I mean, his place in Scottsdale is totally him. But he likes space. I was surprised he didn’t buy something with land around it, so he could put in a putting green or even a court.”

I would not in the slightest be averse to a having a court added to this property so I could watch Tom Pierce putting himself through his paces. In fact, finding someone to do that was penciling itself on my mental to-do list.

A putting green, not so much.

“His pad is very him, but if we get there, I’d prefer he move in with me,” I told her.

“Are you, I mean…are you moving out here, to Arizona, like, permanently?”

I shook my head. “No, but I figure I’ll be flipping things, and once my daughter Cadence moves on to whatever it is she’s going to be doing, I’ll probably spend more time out here than in New York.”

“Cool,” she mumbled.

“It’s too bad Cadence is in town. I’d love for you two to meet.”

“Chloe says she’s the bomb.”

“Chloe’s right.”

Finally, saying that, I’d coaxed a small smile on her face.

It was time to try to get her to open up.

“You and I have just met, but I care about your dad a lot, he speaks of you all the time. He loves you completely. He’s worried about you, as you know. And I’m a mom. I’m also a woman. So if you have something to share, and you want to share it with me, I might get it.”

“You might…I think you…” She swallowed, shook her head. “I’ve been, you know, checking out your stuff. Chloe was a big fan back in the day. I didn’t have time for…I was into other things then. Big into volleyball.”

Tom had told me this.

I didn’t share that. I nodded my head to encourage her to keep talking.

She took a sip from her flute, looked to the cold fireplace, then back to me.

“So, you know, I wasn’t into it back then, but, once you started seeing Dad…I watched one of your documentaries. The one you did about women’s hair? You know, from Bo Derek appropriating corn rows from Black women to the differing beliefs of Muslim women as to what the hajib is, worn over hair only, to covering the entire body.”

“Yes?” I urged when she said no more.

“It was really good. I learned a lot.”

“That makes me happy to hear.”

“And I read that book of your poetry,” she kept at it. “Spring to Summer to Autumn, all your thoughts through those seasons. It was really…personal. And beautiful. And powerful. I never got into poetry. I thought it all had to rhyme and it just wasn’t my thing. But you made little things, like sitting in front of a mirror to do your makeup, and suddenly discovering your face, realizing you hadn’t truly looked at it for forever. Finding every change since the last time you paid attention. Not knowing who you are for a split second, and how terrifying that was. Then realizing a soul stays the same from birth to death, and the lines on your face don’t matter. I was…that was a really good one.”

“That makes me happy to hear too,” I said.

“The soul part,” she replied.

“Mm-hmm, the soul part,” I prompted.

“I really liked that part.”

And suddenly, there was something about her that made me frightened.

“Sasha—” I began.

“I wanted Dad to know I got a job,” she blurted.

Well, that was good.

“Okay, but—”

“He’s going to think it’s silly. But I…I really like it. It’s at a coffee place, but they do really good food too, and it’s attached to a bookstore and yoga and meditation studio. It’s a whole like…thing. A complex. It has a courtyard too. Not like this one. Total Zen. The vibe is awesome.”

“That’s good,” I replied.

“I don’t make a lot of money.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

“Yeah, we can say that because we have it.”

She had me there.

“And I got my own place,” she continued. “It’s kinda weird. Loft apartments downtown. The walls are mostly concrete and it’s not my thing at all, really. But the footprint is minimized. I don’t think I ever want to live in a house. No offense, to each their own. But it’s just not cool anymore with the way the population has exploded. But I needed to find my own zone, and it was the only thing I liked when I was looking, so I’m in a year lease.”

The mother in me resurfaced, and I asked a practical question, “Do you have any furniture?”

That coaxed another smile.

“Yeah. There are a lot of vintage and reclaimed and repurposed stores in Phoenix that have super rad stuff. I don’t have very much yet, I’m being picky. But I’ve been spending a ton of time in those stores and found some really cool things. Who knew decorating could be so fun?”


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