My Rules (Kingston Lane #2) Read Online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Kingston Lane Series by T.L. Swan
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
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I frown as I think back. “Come to think of it, that is odd.”

“I think he makes up the ex-army story to get chicks.”

“Surely not?” I scoff. “Nobody would outright lie about a job.”

He raises an eyebrow as his eyes hold mine.

My heart sinks. “I’m so gullible, aren’t I?”

“No.” He smiles over at me. “You are trusting. Trusting and gullible are two different things.”

I sit back, dejected. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get the hang of this dating thing.”

“Well . . .” He sips his drink. “You won’t be dating long.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the first man who gets a chance with you is going to snap you up and keep you forever.”

I smile as I go over his words. “What about you?”

He snorts and chokes on his coffee. “What?” He coughs. “I mean . . .”

“Oh . . . crap.” I cringe in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean you snap me up. As if you would ever snap me up,” I stammer. “I mean . . . a girlfriend for you. I mean Ruby.”

He rolls his eyes as if knowing what I’m going to say next.

“What are you actually looking for in a woman?”

He rolls his lips, as if contemplating his answer before saying it out loud. “I don’t actually know.” He gives a subtle shrug. “Someone kind and honest. A fun best friend to do life with.”

“You’ve never met a woman like that before?”

“Well, I know I haven’t spent a night with her yet.” His sandy-brown hair hangs in curls over his forehead.

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“Well . . . I think I like them, and then I spend the night with them, and I want to chew my arm off to get out of there and run for the hills.”

I smile over at him. “How many women have you slept with?”

“Too many to answer that question.”

We stare at each other as the air changes between us. I can’t put my finger on what the change is. All I know is that it’s there.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says softly.

I feel my face blush as his eyes linger on me. “Thanks.”

“And now that you’re a famous foot model . . .” He gives me a slow, sexy smile.

“Ha ha,” I laugh. “What about that? Can you believe it?”

“Absolutely.”

“I cannot believe I made fifty-two hundred dollars in one week.” I get the giggles. “I just can’t . . . my mind is blown.”

He chuckles and leans his face onto his hand; his pointer finger steeples up to his temple. His eyes are dark, and his lips are big, and it suddenly dawns on me that Blake Grayson is probably the most handsome man I have ever met.

“How can I ever pay you back for this Foot Finder thing?” I say to curb my wayward thoughts.

“Well . . . there is something.”

“Name it.”

He scrunches up his nose as if knowing this is a huge ask. “Can you come to my cousin’s wedding with me? I cannot handle another wedding with my aunts all trying to set me up with every woman in attendance.”

I smile. I can so imagine that. “Sure.”

“But there’s a catch.”

“A catch?”

“It’s in Mexico. So it means a whole weekend away.”

“That’s okay. I have never been, so it will be fun. When is it?”

“Six weeks.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll probably be all in love by then, so . . .”

“You’ll still come first, Blake, no matter who I am dating.”

He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Promise.”

I stare at him as the air swirls between us. The feeling of his large hand wrapped around mine makes butterflies swirl in my stomach.

“I promise.”

What the hell is going on here?

This is Blake.

Blake Grayson, player extraordinaire and one of your best friends.

Cut it out.

I snatch my hand from his grip. “Here you are.” The waiter puts my cheesecake in front of me and a huge chocolate fountain in front of Blake.

I get the giggles when I see it.

“And your strawberries.” He lays down long, skinny forks and leaves us alone.

I take out my phone and take a photo. “Here, pose.”

Blake smiles, and I snap photos of him and his giant chocolate fountain.

“You get in the shot too. Take a selfie,” he says.

I try to lean over.

“Come over this side.”

I get up and walk around to his side of the table, and he pulls me down onto his lap and holds me close as he wraps his arms around me.

Oh . . .

His large, hard body underneath mine sends a surge of adrenaline screaming through my body.

With a shaky hand, I hold up the camera and take a photo of the two of us.

“What about now?” He pretends to bite my shoulder, and I giggle as I continue to take the photos. He nibbles up my arm as I try to escape him. “That’s enough.” I scramble to get off his lap, and I go back around and sit in my chair.


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