Three Strikes and You’re Mine Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Forbidden, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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I hold up my hands in a gesture of understanding. “Absolutely. You want to protect her. I completely get it.”

“If you’re staying this summer, it’s strictly like you said: you’ll cook and care for the house, but you won’t look after Harper.”

I nod quickly, letting him know that’s alright with me. I’m not the least bit offended that he’s putting the protection of his daughter above all else.

“Still, seeing as how you’ll be staying in the house with us—”

“I could move to the guest house!” I offer, wanting to be helpful.

“No. That’s Ned’s domain.” The way he says it makes it clear he’s fully aware of his groundskeeper’s fickle personality. “You’ll have to stay in the house with us, which means I’ll need to vet you as I would anyone who’s around Harper, just to err on the side of caution. It’s okay if I have Pat run a background check?”

“Of course! Yes! I’m not a criminal. I’ve never so much as hurt a fly.”

Just then the back door opens and there’s ol’ Ned, rake still in his hand.

Did he sleep with it?

He throws me a grouchy look before shaking his head and looking at his boss. “Sir, we need to talk. This girl threatened me with a knife yesterday.”

All eyes swivel to me.

The blood drains from my face.

“Right…that…that’s a funny story.”

SEVEN

CHLOE

I can’t believe I’m working for Luke Allen.

That’s wild.

My brother would lose his mind if he knew. I would never hear the end of it if I told him.

The New York Pinstripes are an institution. All the greats have played for that team. You have your Bobby So-and-Sos, your Ricky Flyballs, your…okay, I admit I know next to nothing about baseball. My family is obsessed with the game, I’m not, so I don’t exactly know details, but I know Luke Allen is good. I know the Pinstripes won the World Series last year because there was a parade through the city that made me thirty minutes late for work that day. And I know my new boss is seriously sexy.

That last part I scrub from my brain almost immediately.

Bad bad bad.

There are so many other things to focus on right now. Like, aside from his face, you have his hands, his forearms, his butt.

CHLOE.

I’m getting settled into another second-story bedroom, not the one I moved to last night. That one is just too insane, large enough to host a family of ten. I’m more than happy in a small room down the hall with the same view of the pond. I still have a bathroom of my own, and it feels really secluded up here.

Luke and I agreed this is where I’ll stay. He walked me up here himself earlier after our run-in with Ned.

I assumed he wouldn’t take the knife incident report well, but he actually seemed mildly amused.

“Ned’s…interesting. He’s used to being here by himself, and I don’t think he likes the idea of having to split duties with you,” Luke explained.

“Hey, you won’t see me trying to wrestle that rake out of his hand, promise. Though, just to be clear, it’s not like fused to his hand? He can drop it, right?”

Now, I’m unpacking my things carefully into the dresser beneath the TV, trying to come to terms with the fact that I’ll be living in the lap of luxury for the foreseeable future. We haven’t talked about all the specifics, but I assume my position here will be seasonal, which is fine by me. I’m just happy to be here. Tomorrow, I’ll worry about tomorrow.

I hear peals of laughter outside, and I walk over to the window to see Harper and Luke down by the pool. He’s got her in his arms, and he’s swinging her back and forth over the water, taunting her like he’s about to toss her in.

“No! No!” Harper squeals.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t…” Then he swings her again, higher than before, and lets her go in the deep end.

Scream of delight.

Huge splash.

“DAD! Can you do it again!?”

I feel oddly nostalgic watching them together. It makes me miss being Harper’s age, wrapped in that carefree ease of childhood. I might not have ever swum in an Olympic-sized pool rimmed by designer lounge chairs and five acres of private land, but I had a dad who wasn’t afraid to be silly with me. Even today, if I were standing by that pool, I’m sure he wouldn’t resist the urge to push me in. Some things never change.

While they soak up the early summer sun outside, I’m relegated to a titillating Zoom conference call in my room with a team of Luke’s lawyers. They drone on in front of their gray backdrops, asking me question after question in monotone voices until it all seems to blur together. Have I been in this room for thirty minutes or thirty years?


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