One Tasty Pucking Meet Cute (Frosty Harbor #1) Read Online Penelope Bloom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Drama, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Frosty Harbor Series by Penelope Bloom
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
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I raise an eyebrow. Something else thinks about rising, too, because the image of Andi Summers naked and slipping beneath her sheets is waking parts of me that I’d rather keep slumbering. “I wouldn’t mind. But places close early here. By the time we got you to town, nothing would be open. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight. I’m sure they’ll be big, but it should do.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “I can do that. And you really don’t mind taking me in the morning to get clothes?” She clutches her hands together, smiling. “I may just need to borrow a little money. And then I can have Jake pay you back tomorrow. And then I’ll figure out how to pay him back,” she says forehead scrunching more and more as she speaks, as if it’s some complicated puzzle.

“Alright, then. That settles that.”

“Thank you!” She rushes forward and hugs me. “For everything,” she says, voice muffled by my chest. “For saving me, not looking up my dress, taking me to the doctor, letting me stay in your cabin, introducing me to your teammates and letting me taste Nolan’s mother, giving me your jacket, and now this.”

I smile, noticing that she still manages to smell like all things feminine, even in her current state. I also thought I was letting her borrow my jacket, but it sounds like she’s keeping it. Maybe that should annoy me, but I just find it endearing. “Sure. You’d do the same for me.”

“Oh, no,” she laughs. “I would’ve definitely looked up your dress. Not that I’ve been picturing you in a dress. I just mean if I was you and you were me–” She blushes bright red and then smiles as Carter steps out to the deck.

“Are we talking about Jesse in a dress? Because I’ve always thought he has the legs for it.”

5

ANDI

I lift the dress on a hanger and hold it up to myself in the body-length mirror. “What do you think?” I ask Jesse.

He’s looming in the back of the store as if he’s trying not to stand too close to me. He looks up like he’s surprised I’m asking his opinion. I slept in his clothes–which smelled amazing, by the way–and had the curious decision on whether to put my torn, dirty wedding dress back on or go out into town in clothes that were obviously Jesse’s.

On the one hand, I could look like a crazy runaway bride, which I am. On the other hand, I could look like the kind of girl who hooks up with a guy she just met on her first day in town, which I am not–no judgment, either, that’s just not how I roll.

So it was back into the dress for me.

“It’s good,” he says.

“You’re sure? You barely looked.”

“I would really prefer to wait outside,” he says.

“I need a second opinion, though. I never shop alone. I hate returning things. So I want to make sure I’m sure before I pick something out.”

“It’s good. Yeah,” he says again, eying the dress.

“I’ll just go try it on, then. Oh,” I say, laughing and blushing all over again. “I might need some undies before I do that. I’ll just buy those first, I guess?” I shuffle over to another part of the store and pick up a pack of panties and the cheapest bra I can find. I glance over my shoulder and see Jesse is trying very, very hard not to look at me now. He’s actually just staring at the ceiling like he’s afraid it might suddenly spring a leak.

I smile to myself, then go to the register. “Um, Jesse?” I call out. “Can I borrow a little money? I promise I’ll have Jake pay you back.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He comes over and fishes out his card. He pushes it across the counter to the young girl ringing me up. She eyes the underwear, Jesse, me, my wedding dress, and then Jesse again.”

“So,” she says slowly.

“Don’t,” Jesse warns.

I’m surprised for a second by the way he’s talking to her like they know each other. Then I remember he grew up here. He probably knows everybody. He probably could tell me a handful of stories about this random, lovely young girl working the register at a random clothing store in town. The thought makes me smile, because it’s such a novel concept after spending most of my life in busy cities. I’m used to the relative anonymity of city life–of only having a few regular pillars of my life and being surrounded by otherwise anonymous masses.

“Okay,” the girl says. She’s in her early twenties with strawberry blonde hair and a not-so-polite way of chewing her bright pink gum. “I won’t ask why you’re buying a runaway bride new underwear.” She pops her gum, scans the underwear, and taps Jesse’s card to the reader. When she speaks again, her eyes are down and her voice is low. “I’ll just assume you ruined some poor guy’s wedding night by stealing his wife-to-be and ruining her panties in the process.”


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