The Making of Matt (Souls of the Knight #3) Read Online Nicola Haken

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Souls of the Knight Series by Nicola Haken
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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“There’s more in the car,” he said, lowering the bags onto the island.

“More?”

“You start unpacking and I’ll go grab it.”

I began with the grocery bags, removing a ton of ingredients I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. Potatoes, lettuce, salmon, strawberries… He must’ve bought out the whole freakin’ store.

“Ready for the pièce de résistance?” Ryder reentered the room and put a fuck-ton more bags down on the floor. Then he picked up a large, flat, circular bag. Intrigued, I walked over him and watched as he unfastened the zipper and pulled out something which resembled a tent. “Stand back.”

With a mere flick of his wrist, the tent sprang to life, settling fully assembled on the floor instantaneously.

“That’s ingenious.”

“Right? There’re pegs too to stop it blowing away but even you should be able to figure out how to use them.”

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

“Well it was meant as an insult so maybe start there.”

“Funny. Jackass.” I scowled at him but he didn’t notice, too busy delving into the other bags. “I got candles, flowers, napkins, lights…” he continued, naming things as he removed them from the bag.

“And where do you suggest I plug lights in?”

“They’re solar powered. I’ve thought of everything.” He really had. “Champagne, baby wipes, condoms…”

“Oh.” Anxiety spiked in my gut. It never failed to surprise me. If you could get a degree in sex I’d have passed with honors years ago. Yet here I was at twenty-nine years old, feeling more nervous than when I lost my virginity at fifteen.

“They’re just in case. As is this lube,” he added, plucking it from the same bag. “Oh, oh, oh!” he sang, spinning around and reaching for the picnic basket behind him. “Check this out.” Lifting it up onto the counter, he flipped the lid. “It comes with plates, bowls, cups, and cutlery and even has these handy little dividers.”

I gave it a quick glance over, nodded, and returned to the grocery bags.

“Is that it?” he pressed, his voice laced with offence.

“It’s a basket. What do you want me to say?”

“It’s the motherfucking king of baskets. Did you not hear what I said about the dividers?”

I shrugged. “Does it prepare the food, clean up afterwards and then finish me off with a blowjob?”

“No but-”

“Then it’s just a basket.”

Ryder made a weird huffing slash tut sound. “You make a really crappy gay person. You’re letting the side down.”

When late afternoon rolled around I considered forgiving Ryder for massacring my balls. He really had thought of everything and on top of that provided us with a basketful of food that looked more elegant than any bazillion star restaurant I’d ever eaten in. I attempted to help but he’d bat my hand away so I took a long bath instead before calling Ashley for a baby update. She was three days overdue and her exhaustion was evident in her crabby tone. We arranged to meet, providing she hadn’t popped, tomorrow afternoon. I planned to tell her about Alex and could only hope the shock didn’t send her into labor. I wanted to be as far away as humanly possible when that happened. From what I’d seen on TV, giving birth was like something straight out of a horror movie.

“We should go and start setting things up soon,” Ryder suggested when I rejoined him in the kitchen. “Which beach are you taking him to?”

“Sahara’s Cove just off of Laguna.”

“That’s like a ninety-minute drive from here.”

“But it’s beautiful. And secluded. I’m planning to ask Saw if he’ll bring Alex to me.”

“Better get right on that. He has a meeting in the studio today.”

Shit. “Right. I’ll do it now.”

Down at the beach a couple of hours later, I felt like a spare part as Ryder worked to set everything up. At least the tent didn’t need setting up seeing as we couldn’t get the damn thing to fit back in its bag. It turned out to be the deciding factor in which car I drove today, given that, fully erected, it would only fit in the back of my SUV. Much like he had at the club, Ryder had taken complete control. Thinking back to when I first met him as Elle’s assistant on our last UK tour, I’d never have guessed he would become such an invaluable part of my life. Honestly, I thought he was a prick in the beginning; over confident, loud, and a bigger attitude than mine.

“You want to be careful doing that,” Ryder said, clapping the sand off his hands. “You could damage your last brain cell.”

“Huh?”

“Thinking,” he explained, snickering. “Anything good?”

“I was actually thinking about how you grew on me. Like mold.”

“Gee, thanks. Pass me that bag.” He nodded toward the backpack by my feet. Picking it up, I tossed it to him and he ducked like it was a freakin’ grenade. “Think we need to go over the definition of pass.”


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