The French Kiss Read Online Lauren Landish

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
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You could knock me over with a feather right now because I’m completely stunned by my aunt’s admission. Autumn seems equally surprised, her mouth hanging open and her eyebrows as close to her hairline as they can get.

“Wait, you were trying to protect Autumn?” I ask, needing to clarify because I must’ve misheard her.

“Yes, or you? Or both? I don’t know. It just seemed like a dangerous path all around, and if I could stop either of you, or both of you, then things would be . . . alright. That didn’t work, obviously.” She gestures to the two of us. “This is why I’m bad at these things.”

Autumn hums. “Lemme get this straight. If I’m a gold digger, you wanted to get me out of the picture to protect Simon from my greedy, do-anything-to-win claws. If he’s a man-whore only out for pussy, you wanted to protect me from his magical, dream-killing dick. That about right?”

Tobias, who’s been sitting so silently that I forgot he was there, much as he mentioned people do, begins to laugh. He covers his mouth with his hand, but he’s snorting loudly, so it’s not particularly helpful. “God, I love Americans and their bluntness.”

Even Albert seems to be fighting off a laugh. “She’s got you there, Jacqueline.”

Jacqueline swats at Albert. “You hush,” she says affectionately, making me think he calls her on her shit more often than I’m aware of. At least behind closed doors.

My aunt finally laughs a bit too, seeming offended but realizing that her actions were pretty over the top. Earnestly, she tells me, “I thought I was doing the right thing. The same as when I took you in all those years ago . . . and when I put you in the best schools I could find to give you every educational opportunity . . . and when I brought you into House Corbin under my wing to teach you everything I know. I’ve tried, Simon.” She’s pleading with me to understand her point of view. “Oh, I’ve tried to be the best family I could for you. I’m just not . . . good at it. I knew when I was a child that I was never meant to be a mother. Other children, my sister especially, would play house. They’d spend hours pretending to cook and clean, with baby dolls on their hips. That was never me. I’d be wrapping curtains around myself to create fabulous gowns.” Her eyes go hazy and shiny, as though she’s looking directly into the past. “But when your mother . . . when she was gone . . . I wanted to honor her, do my best for the child she always wanted so very much. Turns out I was right—I wasn’t meant to be a mother. My best wasn’t nearly good enough. Certainly not as good as she would’ve been.”

The room goes silent as she rips open wounds I’d rather leave closed, healed over with gross scarring and ugly damage.

“I wouldn’t say that.” I release Autumn’s hand to reach forward for my aunt’s. This has gone well beyond the competition, into history I think neither of us wants to address. But if my aunt and I are to find a way forward, we need to do so. “I haven’t turned out all that bad, I don’t think, and that’s your doing.”

My aunt returns my smile with a wavering one of her own. “You think?”

I nod. “I do. Can you tell me what you mean about my mother, though? We never talked about her, so I thought she . . .” I take a deep breath, fighting for self control. “I thought she didn’t want me and that was why she dropped me off at the orphanage.”

Jacqueline covers her open mouth with her hands, her eyes wide in surprise at my confession. “Oh, my goodness, non! Non, non . . . she wanted you very much. There was . . .” The lines of her face seem deeper, filled with the torture and agony of the past, but she perseveres, telling me about my mother for the first time. “There was a man. Your father. He was young and sweet, like her. They fell in love, married, had you, and began their life. It was good, for a while. But he began . . .” She trails off, but we have an idea what she means, so she jumps forward in her story. “It wasn’t good then. And your mother needed to get away. She didn’t want to tell anyone in the family how bad things had gotten, and we hadn’t talked to her in so long. Now, I realize it’s because he wouldn’t let her. But then? I thought she’d moved on to this happy new life that was exactly what she’d dreamed of. Selfishly, I was drowning in my own dreams, trying to make House Corbin a reality.”


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