Rematch (THE REED BROTHERS #22) by Tammy Falkner EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Tammy Falkner
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
SETH
I’m not going to lie. Flying private is pretty damn dope. We don’t have to
go through the regular security protocols or stand in any lines. And we
don’t have to fight the crowds of people who always try to get the Reed
brothers’ autographs. Instead, we get off the big buses that took our whole
family—yes, all of us—to Lake Fisher for the Christmas holiday, and we
board a commercial jet bound for New York so we can go back home.
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Minutes after we board, the pilot announces that we should fasten seatbelts,
and then we’re in the air. And it’s not until after we get in the air that they
ambush me. I should have seen it coming. I really should have. Because
while the Reed brothers might be kind and generous, they’re also nosy as
fuck.
I look up to find the five Reed brothers and Edward settling into seats
near me, all of them converging to make a circle around me. “What’s up?” I
ask as they all stare at me. Logan is the last to arrive, and he has one of his
kids balanced by his butt against his forearm, kind of halfway asleep against
his shoulder, and the newest Reed kid, who is only a few days old, is
bundled in a blanket in the crook of his other arm. “Hold this,” he says as
he hands me the baby, and I take it because when somebody holds out a
baby and says, “Take it,” you sort of feel obligated to take it.
I look down into his little red face. He has baby acne, which Aunt Sky
always assures me most babies get. He looks kind of like a potato might
look if you wrapped a potato in a blanket, painted on a few slits for the
nose, eyes, and mouth, and added a few little red dots across its nose. He’s a
cute potato, though, if you were ranking potatoes by something other than
their ability to become French fries.
“What do you want me to do with it?” I ask.
Logan snorts. “Hold him. My hands are full.” He adjusts his other kid’s
legs around his waist so that the kid is leaning on him, completely asleep,
his mouth hanging wide open, and a string of drool rolling out of his mouth
onto Logan’s sweatshirt. Logan doesn’t seem to mind, nor does he attempt
to wipe it away. “Got a little drool right there,” I say, pointing to his shirt.
“It’s fine,” he says. “Emily fell asleep, and I didn’t want anybody to
wake her up.”
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