Marrying a Stranger (Bad For Me #1) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bad For Me Series by Lindsey Hart
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
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Speaking of buns and burgers, I pile an insane amount of burgers onto a tray. Because we use trays, not plates, when my brothers are around, and that barbeque just happens to hold about four boxes worth of burgers. It’s a big bastard. Up here in the north, we take our grilling seriously. I overheard that last week at camp and thought I’d use it one day. I guess today is that day.

“Burgers are done!” I don’t have to announce it to everyone because Ransom is still right there. He relieves me of the tray while Granny takes the other tray piled high with grilled buns. No, not the gluteus maximus kind. Haha.

My brothers and Azalea’s parents are already inside. And they’re probably cramming their faces already—my brothers, not her parents. Her parents were nice enough to help us set up inside by getting the table set, the drinks served, and all that hosting stuff that I’m not very good at. Binksky, Pink, Johnny, and Deano are here too. They’re going to be going down to California with Granny. They—my brothers and Granny—have been all over Europe for the past year. I think they’re secretly all relieved to have a centralized place together again, even if this ups the game for all of them.

After I shut off the barbeque, Azalea slips her hand into mine. She squeezes it and says nothing, but I love the flow of strength from her. It’s a silent touch that says she understands everything, she gets me, and she’ll always be here for me—all without saying a word.

I’m not sure if we really were destined for each other from birth, but as she said about the plans of our fathers working out for good, it’s beyond nice to know that no matter what forces are out there, we ended up here now.

“I bet Ransom has already eaten twelve burgers,” Azalea says softly. She laughs, the sound of it dispelling the last of my lingering worries. I have to let it go and trust that my brothers and Granny have this. I can’t worry constantly, or I’m not going to make it through the next six months.

“Twelve? Just twelve? Try fourteen.”

“Sixteen.”

“Twenty.”

“How many did we cook again?”

“I believe there were twelve in a box, and I’ve cycled through the barbeque twice, so four boxes mean forty-eight. Goodness, I’m glad your parents put out a large spread inside. If we just had the burgers, there would be a lot of rumbly tummies going around.”

“You were kidding. Ransom will only eat eight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Okay, maybe four. Maybe he’ll be polite and eat two pounds of pasta salad and let everyone else have their share too.”

“Don’t forget the watermelon.”

Azalea’s eyes sparkle. God, she’s beautiful. She’s so dang beautiful, and I’m so beyond dang lucky. I’m lucky we have this life together and this beautiful home on a gorgeous lake in such a quiet, peaceful, pristine setting. Azalea’s parents haven’t just accepted me; they actually like me. If you can imagine. Me. They don’t know half of what I do, or I mean, did, because I’m seriously cutting down, or even what Granny and my brothers do. They’ve just accepted that they can’t ask about it, that I love their daughter like crazy, and that I would die for her without hesitation. They know I will always keep them and Azalea safe. Always.

Aside from our amazing home and Azalea’s family living so close, we’re blessed in that we both have jobs. Even though we don’t need the money, it’s nice to have something to do so we don’t go stir-crazy. There’s only so much fishing and sunning and swimming and yardwork a person can do before they need something else. Don’t get me wrong. All that other stuff is great. Truly. I just know we are young enough and still have the energy to do more. I work at the camp, and Azalea does freelance writing. She’s amazing at it. Turns out being a librarian isn’t her only skill. She’s also a rockstar at writing smutty romances, which people like to eat up. It’s full of alpha men, shaved chests, and wild scenes, which we don’t try and re-enact at all. Ever.

“You’re thinking about kidnapping again, aren’t you?” she whispers, giving me her secret, sexy smile.

The kidnapping thing happens to be our favorite roleplaying scenario. It turns out I’ve actually come out of my shell quite a bit in the bedroom. It also turns out we’re a great match in all aspects of our relationship, and we both aren’t afraid to use humor to get over just about anything.

I wink at my wife, this woman who I love so very, very much. With my whole heart, in fact. “I might be.”

“Ooh! Does it involve kicking you in the nuts and shaving your chest again?”



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