Read Online Christmas From Hell by R. L. Mathewson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R. L. Mathewson
Tags: Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Contemporary Fiction, Holidays, neighbor from hell, rl mathewson, New York Times best seller, fire fighter romance, enemy to lover romance, contemporary series romance
Ads: Link
had.
Apparently, her Grandfather felt differently.
“ Can’t even stand me,” she admitted, moving the bowl of sugar out of his reach.
He chuckled as he leaned over, grabbed the bowl and helped himself to a heaping spoonful of brown sugar. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said, making her roll her eyes, because they both knew she didn’t have a chance in hell at getting Duncan Bradford to notice her, never mind talk to her.
Chapter 8
Monday, November 30 th .
Nothing was worth this, not even a chance to finally eat at the Fire & Brimstone, he decided, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped back down from the small porch and headed back towards his house.
He should have just told his brother to fuck off when he had the chance. Now he’d be lucky to make it back to his house without the little disaster crossing his path and leaving him with another concussion or maiming him for life because she felt the need to take the trash out at eight at night.
This had been a really stupid idea, he told himself with a sigh and a shake of his head as he headed back next door, deciding that no meal was worth this bullshit. He was halfway across the Dixon’s driveway when a very familiar and very enticing scent stopped him in his tracks.
“ Double fudge brownies,” he said, scenting the air to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things.
“ Oh, hell,” he heard Mr. Dixon mutter with a heavy sigh as Duncan turned around and headed towards the back of the house, careful of the black ice coating the driveway, to find Mr. Dixon huddled on the back porch, holding a brown paper bag and looking guilty as hell.
“ Are you okay?” Duncan asked, sending Mr. Dixon a questioning look as he watched the old man noticeably swallow as he placed the paper bag behind his back.
“ Yes, yes I am,” Mr. Dixon said as though he hadn’t just been caught with a shitload of sugar, “why do you ask?”
“ Because you’re outside without a coat or gloves and it’s below freezing,” Duncan pointed out, curious to see how the old man was going to try and play this one off when everyone in the neighborhood knew that sugar, butter, salt and everything yummy was off limits to him.
His granddaughter had made damn sure that everyone knew that those “minor misunderstandings” that had landed the old man in the hospital had been anything but, and if anyone in the neighborhood felt the urge to share baked goods with him that they should seriously reconsider that urge or she’d show up at your door to have a “talk” with you.
Since he didn’t want the little pain in the ass showing up at his door, sobbing and bitching about her grandfather’s poor, weak heart, he decided to do what needed to be done.
For all their sakes, of course.
“ Hand it over,” he said, holding out his hand and wiggled his fingers in demand.
To Mr. Dixon’s credit, he didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Fifty dollars.”
“ Fifty dollars?” he repeated, sure that he’d misheard, because otherwise that would just be…
Sad.
“ A hundred,” Mr. Dixon said, not missing a beat.
Shaking his head in disgust, because he really didn’t have time to play these games, he walked over, reached around the much smaller, yet intimidating man, and snatched the large bag of brownies away from him.
“ Are you sure that you want to do that?” Mr. Dixon asked as he narrowed his eyes dangerously on him.
“ Absolutely,” he said with a look that told Mr. Dixon that he should have known better.
“ This isn’t going to win you any points with Necie,” the old man snapped as Duncan turned around and headed back down the short set of stairs with the bag of brownies, deciding that this bullshit wasn’t worth finally being allowed into the Fire & Brimstone.
“ I think I’ll survive,” Duncan said dryly as he headed back towards his house, careful
Apparently, her Grandfather felt differently.
“ Can’t even stand me,” she admitted, moving the bowl of sugar out of his reach.
He chuckled as he leaned over, grabbed the bowl and helped himself to a heaping spoonful of brown sugar. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said, making her roll her eyes, because they both knew she didn’t have a chance in hell at getting Duncan Bradford to notice her, never mind talk to her.
Chapter 8
Monday, November 30 th .
Nothing was worth this, not even a chance to finally eat at the Fire & Brimstone, he decided, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped back down from the small porch and headed back towards his house.
He should have just told his brother to fuck off when he had the chance. Now he’d be lucky to make it back to his house without the little disaster crossing his path and leaving him with another concussion or maiming him for life because she felt the need to take the trash out at eight at night.
This had been a really stupid idea, he told himself with a sigh and a shake of his head as he headed back next door, deciding that no meal was worth this bullshit. He was halfway across the Dixon’s driveway when a very familiar and very enticing scent stopped him in his tracks.
“ Double fudge brownies,” he said, scenting the air to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things.
“ Oh, hell,” he heard Mr. Dixon mutter with a heavy sigh as Duncan turned around and headed towards the back of the house, careful of the black ice coating the driveway, to find Mr. Dixon huddled on the back porch, holding a brown paper bag and looking guilty as hell.
“ Are you okay?” Duncan asked, sending Mr. Dixon a questioning look as he watched the old man noticeably swallow as he placed the paper bag behind his back.
“ Yes, yes I am,” Mr. Dixon said as though he hadn’t just been caught with a shitload of sugar, “why do you ask?”
“ Because you’re outside without a coat or gloves and it’s below freezing,” Duncan pointed out, curious to see how the old man was going to try and play this one off when everyone in the neighborhood knew that sugar, butter, salt and everything yummy was off limits to him.
His granddaughter had made damn sure that everyone knew that those “minor misunderstandings” that had landed the old man in the hospital had been anything but, and if anyone in the neighborhood felt the urge to share baked goods with him that they should seriously reconsider that urge or she’d show up at your door to have a “talk” with you.
Since he didn’t want the little pain in the ass showing up at his door, sobbing and bitching about her grandfather’s poor, weak heart, he decided to do what needed to be done.
For all their sakes, of course.
“ Hand it over,” he said, holding out his hand and wiggled his fingers in demand.
To Mr. Dixon’s credit, he didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Fifty dollars.”
“ Fifty dollars?” he repeated, sure that he’d misheard, because otherwise that would just be…
Sad.
“ A hundred,” Mr. Dixon said, not missing a beat.
Shaking his head in disgust, because he really didn’t have time to play these games, he walked over, reached around the much smaller, yet intimidating man, and snatched the large bag of brownies away from him.
“ Are you sure that you want to do that?” Mr. Dixon asked as he narrowed his eyes dangerously on him.
“ Absolutely,” he said with a look that told Mr. Dixon that he should have known better.
“ This isn’t going to win you any points with Necie,” the old man snapped as Duncan turned around and headed back down the short set of stairs with the bag of brownies, deciding that this bullshit wasn’t worth finally being allowed into the Fire & Brimstone.
“ I think I’ll survive,” Duncan said dryly as he headed back towards his house, careful
Similar Books
