Read Online ROMANCE: Party of Three: A Lustful Collection of Menage Romance (Menage Romance, Bisexual Romance, Stepbrother Romance) by Brittanee Farrow - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brittanee Farrow
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history. And it seemed that Jace actually began to love me. None of this mattered, because he still got the gun with the intention to kill Chip. It wasn’t supposed to happen in front of me, because I would obviously never marry him after that.
I still feel sick, thinking of how I enjoyed that attention, allowed it to happen, and reveled in being wanted by both men at once. Now I can’t bear the attention. Reporters still call asking for comments or interviews. Miami isn’t far enough to escape what happened, and after the trial is settled, I make sure my passport is in order. I want to be as far away from Texas and cowboys as possible.
Thank God for Smart Phones
I speak into my phone, asking for a hair dryer, and the translation seems to work. The thin, blonde girl disappears, coming back with what looks like a futuristic hair dryer. I thank her and pay, walking back to my small flat.
It’s strange, how much an apartment can cost here, but I wanted a view of the water. My Swedish is still rough, but I like the distraction of starting over. I’ve regressed to learning a new language and culture; it feels like a rebirth. No one here knows about my sex life or dead lover. In this crowded city, I am a blank slate, ready to reinvent myself. So far that consists of cutting my long hair into a short, angular bob.
Miss Norris is the only person with my information, and she emails regularly with pictures of the ranch. Slowly she is updating things, starting with the kitchen. A picture of her leaning over a new quartz countertop is at the top of my list. I thought it would be hard, seeing these pictures, but with every change, my past fades deeper into the dark. That’s not my home anymore.
Spring Breakdown
By Brittanee Farrow
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Spring Breakdown
Working at a nine to five desk job could get really repetitive and mind numbing after a while. But to me, those long, tedious weeks of work had been worth it. All throughout the year I had worked diligently and without a single sick day the entire time. And in that time I managed to save up three weeks of paid leave, which I had every intention of spending wisely. This meant somewhere very far away from anyone I knew.
Of course my first thought was to go somewhere abroad, have an international affair or something similar. But then I remembered that a nine to five desk job came with a nine to five desk job salary, and lowered my standards a bit.
Instead of Paris or London, I went to Google maps and looked at all the small towns that were at least 2 hours or more away from my own small apartment. When I found the perfect one – a town of about 2,500 people in total and 3 hours away – I’d investigated and made arrangements to rent a little cottage that was close to a less popular lake. I could have easily booked a room at one of the B&B’s, but the object of my vacation was to get away from people, and a secluded cottage about 20 minutes drive away from anything in the town was just perfect for that.
I’d been out of my house within a half-hour of waking up that morning – well, that afternoon – and I would soon be coming up to the town. I’d gotten lost a few times now, taken wrong back roads and exits, but I couldn’t care less at the moment. The sun was shining, the wind was rushing through my brown locks and the music was turned way up, and my windows way down. I was shouting out the lyrics to my favourite songs, much to the amusement of the people I drove past every now and then.
My music had been so loud; in fact, that I hadn’t heard the little beeping noise my car had been making for the last two hours to let me know I was almost out of gas. I was only aware that my car would no longer go any further
I still feel sick, thinking of how I enjoyed that attention, allowed it to happen, and reveled in being wanted by both men at once. Now I can’t bear the attention. Reporters still call asking for comments or interviews. Miami isn’t far enough to escape what happened, and after the trial is settled, I make sure my passport is in order. I want to be as far away from Texas and cowboys as possible.
Thank God for Smart Phones
I speak into my phone, asking for a hair dryer, and the translation seems to work. The thin, blonde girl disappears, coming back with what looks like a futuristic hair dryer. I thank her and pay, walking back to my small flat.
It’s strange, how much an apartment can cost here, but I wanted a view of the water. My Swedish is still rough, but I like the distraction of starting over. I’ve regressed to learning a new language and culture; it feels like a rebirth. No one here knows about my sex life or dead lover. In this crowded city, I am a blank slate, ready to reinvent myself. So far that consists of cutting my long hair into a short, angular bob.
Miss Norris is the only person with my information, and she emails regularly with pictures of the ranch. Slowly she is updating things, starting with the kitchen. A picture of her leaning over a new quartz countertop is at the top of my list. I thought it would be hard, seeing these pictures, but with every change, my past fades deeper into the dark. That’s not my home anymore.
Spring Breakdown
By Brittanee Farrow
Bonus! CLICK HERE to get instant access to my Insider’s List! Receive Updates whenever a fresh new title hits the shelves!
Spring Breakdown
Working at a nine to five desk job could get really repetitive and mind numbing after a while. But to me, those long, tedious weeks of work had been worth it. All throughout the year I had worked diligently and without a single sick day the entire time. And in that time I managed to save up three weeks of paid leave, which I had every intention of spending wisely. This meant somewhere very far away from anyone I knew.
Of course my first thought was to go somewhere abroad, have an international affair or something similar. But then I remembered that a nine to five desk job came with a nine to five desk job salary, and lowered my standards a bit.
Instead of Paris or London, I went to Google maps and looked at all the small towns that were at least 2 hours or more away from my own small apartment. When I found the perfect one – a town of about 2,500 people in total and 3 hours away – I’d investigated and made arrangements to rent a little cottage that was close to a less popular lake. I could have easily booked a room at one of the B&B’s, but the object of my vacation was to get away from people, and a secluded cottage about 20 minutes drive away from anything in the town was just perfect for that.
I’d been out of my house within a half-hour of waking up that morning – well, that afternoon – and I would soon be coming up to the town. I’d gotten lost a few times now, taken wrong back roads and exits, but I couldn’t care less at the moment. The sun was shining, the wind was rushing through my brown locks and the music was turned way up, and my windows way down. I was shouting out the lyrics to my favourite songs, much to the amusement of the people I drove past every now and then.
My music had been so loud; in fact, that I hadn’t heard the little beeping noise my car had been making for the last two hours to let me know I was almost out of gas. I was only aware that my car would no longer go any further
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