Thanksgiving with Three Brothers Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
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“I hope it’s not too fancy for my black dress because that's all I own in the category of formal wear,” she said.

“I’d love to buy you a dress,” I told her, afraid it was too much, that she’d back away or think it was controlling. “Will you wear a dress I picked out for you?”

“Are we talking about an actual dress or sequin pasties?”

“A dress. Although you’re the one who suggested sequin pasties.”

“With tassels. Because once you’ve arrived at ‘pasties’ why not go over the top?” She said with a chuckle.

“And just like that my search history is going to get weird,” I said.

“Like it wasn’t already,” she laughed.

“Will you go to the ball with me?”

“It feels so Cinderella when you say that,” she said with a smirk.

“Cinderella never had her own shop.”

“With a top-of-the-line convection oven on its way,” she reminded me, “thanks to the three of you. So, it’s possible you might be my fairy godmother, Noah. Since you were the one who found me with a major problem and called in the right people for the job.”

“That’s more of a project manager role than a fairy situation,” I said wryly. “I’d rather be the prince.”

“What if I’m the prince?”

“What?”

“What if I had it all wrong? Maybe you were in distress with an evil ex-girlfriend stalking you, and I’m the one who’s going to save you?” She said.

“I don’t want you anywhere near her. She’s not—rational. Let the cops be my fairy godmother or my prince or whatever they are in this analogy. I think I got lost in your logic.”

“Maybe because it’s not very good logic. I meant to tease you but then it felt serious because of what’s going on. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re trying to help me. Never be sorry for that.”

“I guess now I have to go to the ball with you. I mean, such a hardship. I’ll have to get dressed up and go someplace beautiful with a handsome man on my arm and maybe he’ll ask me to dance.”

“I’ll ask you to dance anytime you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that. But the timer’s going off. Don’t want to burn the cherry chocolate muffins for tomorrow,” she said and grabbed an oven mitt to extract the latest batch.

Madison offered me a warm muffin to try her new recipe. I grabbed one out of the pan, too hot to touch and started trying to pass it from hand to hand because of the scalding heat. She grabbed a tea towel and seized the muffin, handing it back to me on the towel. “You’re such a guy,” she said fondly with a chuckle and returned to the cooling rack where she lined up muffins carefully for tomorrow’s breakfast rush at the shop.

I took my treat back to the table and while Leo grumped about not getting a muffin, Ethan nodded to me, “It feels good having her here.”

“Yeah,” I said, meaning it.

15

MADISON

When I unzipped the white garment bag that was delivered to my apartment, the fabric inside was emerald green. It wasn’t just a dress, it was an evening gown. The kind I used to dress my Barbies in as a kid. It was a bias-cut satin gown with a scattering of deep green beads sparkling down the skirt to hem encrusted with beaded detail that matched the fabric's color exactly. I tried it on, and the weight of the beadwork held the hem just so, a little train curving behind me that didn’t get in the way because of the design. The shoes were a work of art themselves, gorgeous strappy heels that gave me a little added height and made me stand with better posture. I pivoted in front of the mirror and marveled at how pretty these things were, how excited I was for Noah to see me in this gown.

That night, after a long session with my curling iron, I perfected the French twist and let a few tiny curls escape in front for a sexy, undone sort of upsweep, according to the TikTok I’d watched about six times. I threaded little gold hoops through my ears and ended up searching pics of Margot Robbie to figure out if I should wear a necklace with the dress. After I went down an internet rabbit hole ogling all the Barbie dresses, my alarm went off. I was glad I’d set it because that was my ten-minute warning until it was time to leave. I hastily plugged my phone in and went and applied another coat of mascara, slicked on my smear-proof red lipstick, and checked my teeth in the mirror.

When I heard his knock at my door, I had butterflies in my stomach like I was fifteen and going to prom. Not that I went to prom, but in teen movies, the girls always seemed nervous and bubbly at times like that. This was better than prom because instead of a too-tight dress from Goodwill and some scrawny, acne-faced boy, I was wearing my designer gown to meet the gorgeous fund manager who liked me. The smile on my face was as real as the jolt of confidence I felt when I opened the door.


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