The Wrong Guy – Cold Springs Read Online Lauren Landish

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
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I point my fork at Joe, knowing my mom would freak out at the lack of manners, but wanting to prove a point. “And I am one of those hotshot, mic-dropping lawyers. Usually. But I’m a little off my game today, so cut me some slack.”

Instead, he tosses me a slice of garlic toast. “I’ll cut you some bread to wipe your whiny tears with, crybaby.”

He’s kidding, mostly, and giving me a hard time so I have someone to rally against. He might be Avery’s grandfather, but he grandfathers all of us with a sharp wit, a good heart, and a no-nonsense attitude.

I catch the toast and take a huge bite, chewing noisily and open-mouthed in answer to his prodding.

Carefully, Avery asks, “You okay? You did seem a bit flustered today.”

Hazel sputters out a laugh. “Pretty sure you said she was snarling, growling, and snapping at people when you called me today, and declared we needed an emergency girls’ night in to save the town from Wren-a-saurus Rex. That’s why I’m here. I had to see what had Miss Unflappable all flapped up.”

She looks at me eagerly, like that’s my cue to spill my guts, but I’m trying to maintain some composure. “It’s not client confidentiality, but I can’t go around gossiping about Cold Springs residents and their business.” But then I drop the customer-service voice to add, “As much as I’d like to, because dayyyyum, is there some stuff I’d like to share.”

Avery frowns, looking at me with sympathy, but Hazel is undeterred. “So what I’m hearing is . . . you can’t say, but you can’t not say either.” She winks at me and then tells Avery and Grandpa Joe, “Who’s up for charades? Fair warning, I’m fan-fucking-tastic at this game.” Hazel doesn’t have a humble bone in her body, but she can back up every claim she makes.

Grandpa Joe turns in his chair to face me more fully, ready for the competition. “Game on, Hazelnut. I was playing charades before you were a seed in your mama’s womb.”

“Grandpa Joe! Eww!” Avery shouts. She’s shaking her head and wagging her finger at him like he’s a bad dog, but he’s grinning with zero remorse and a bit of twisted joy at setting Avery off so easily.

“See, already beat that one because all she’ll be thinking about is whether I’ve lost my marbles. To point, I haven’t. They’re right in my nut sack for safekeeping. By the way, you girls ever heard of mesothelioma?”

Avery rests her head on her hands, fed up but also completely used to her grandfather’s antics. Hazel and I don’t bat an eye, also accustomed to his foul mouth and silly jokes.

Hazel takes control of the game we’re apparently playing now. “Okay, it’s work-related. Blink twice for yes.”

I purposefully don’t blink at all, not wanting to divulge something that could get me in trouble, but eventually, my eyes dry out, and I blink reflexively.

“Yes! It’s work,” Hazel shouts.

Avery sets her fork down, giving up on her lasagna. “We already knew that. I saw her on her lunch break, remember? That’s when she was all flustered and bitchy.”

This game is starting to feel like an interrogation, especially when they’re talking about me like I’m not sitting right here.

Hazel shushes Avery, waving a hand at her. “Don’t break my concentration. I’m gonna beat your grandpa’s butt at this game and show him who’s the charades champion.” She stares at me for a moment, then guesses, “It’s gotta be the Jed-and-Chrissy fiasco, right?”

I go ahead and blink twice.

And now Avery’s attention is piqued. “Or the lawyer,” she suggests shrewdly.

I roll my eyes hard.

“Let’s come back to that,” Hazel suggests. “Stick to one thing at a time because I suspect I’ve got us a little bit o’ intel on that one.”

I freeze, staring at Hazel. Working hard to purposefully keep my tone level, I ask, “What do you know?”

Her grin is pure evil. “You tell me and I’ll tell you?”

I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But of the handful of people I truly trust in this world, three of them are sitting at this table. And if you hold the old adage that if you tell one spouse something, you have to trust the other spouse will know, I’m still good because the other people I trust are my brothers, who happen to be married to Avery and Hazel.

Decision made, I point a sharp nail at each of them. “This stays at this table until you hear it somewhere else. And you never heard it from me. Understood?”

They all nod, and I do a gut check once more to make sure I’m good with what I’m about to do. There’s legal and illegal, moral and amoral, and written and unwritten rules. This breaks some unwritten rules, but technically that’s it. I wouldn’t divulge otherwise, even though I really need to scream and shout, and bitch and moan about this with someone.


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