Made For You (Made For #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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CHAPTER 5

VIVIENNE

“You are so lucky that you are a cute little girl.” I pet Beatrice while I give her one of the dog cookies I ordered from the same place my aunt Zara used to order from for her pups. “I got you more, but I’m only going to give you one. We mustn’t upset the master,” I tell her, laughing. “Can you imagine how much crabbier he can be if he’s upset?” I shake my head. “I don’t envy you.” I kiss the top of her nose as I hear the slider next door open and the grumpy man comes out.

“You bought me apple pie,” he huffs, coming back over to the side of the boat. When I came out here to have a glass of wine, I never thought I would see Mr. Grumpy again, but then he came out and I heard the bark.

“I did,” I confirm, trying not to let his mood get to me. Kill them with kindness is what I always learned growing up, and if that doesn’t happen, kick them in the balls. “Figured it was the safest choice.” He puts his hands on his hips and I ignore the way his shirt pulls across his chest. “If it insults you, I’m more than happy to take it back.”

He doesn’t say anything to me, instead he looks over at Beatrice, who has just finished her cookie and is now standing beside me as she smells my hand, licking it. “How many cookies did you give her?”

I smile at him, the big smile that shows him his mood does nothing for me. “I gave her one,” I tell him, walking over to the box on the table beside my wine. “There are five more in here.” I hand him the box. “You can give them to her when you please.”

His hand comes out to grab the box. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

I squat down and look at Beatrice. “Well, it’s the best I’m going to get.” I rub her neck. “Thank you for coming to visit me, Beatrice.”

I get up and grab my glass of wine. “Have a great night, Beatrice’s dad.” I tilt my head to the side. “Enjoy your pie.”

I turn around and walk away, not giving him a chance to ruin the night. I step into the cabin going down the two steps. My phone is ringing from the top of the table, so I step up the two steps, sit on the couch, and see it’s Franny calling, FaceTiming me. I smile big, pressing connect. The little circle goes around and around as it connects us. “Well, well, well,” Franny says, putting her face to the phone. “There she is, Captain.”

I laugh at her, getting up and walking over to the counter to grab the bottle of white wine I opened when I sat down to eat my dinner of apple pie. “I’m not a captain yet,” I remind her, replenishing my glass. “I think I need something like ten years’ experience or something like that.”

“Show me the boat,” Franny urges, clapping her hands. “Let me see everything.”

“With pleasure,” I reply, grabbing the phone in one hand and my wine in the other. “So this”—I turn it around and walk back to the door—“is bedroom number one.” I open the door and step down. “I just redid the bed.” I tell her of the new cover and throw pillows I bought. I show her the whole boat and then finally sit in the middle of my bed. “And look at this.” I lie down on the bed and show her the window that I can see the stars out of. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“Wilson.” I hear her whisper-shout and he comes into the room. “Can we buy a boat?”

“Oh, here we go,” he says, coming to look in the phone. “How are you doing? Are you seasick yet?”

“Not even a bit. You need to buy a boat,” I state to him. “And kick the guy next to me out. He’s such a grumpy little shit.” I look at them and Franny’s eyes go big as she listens to me bitch about the guy next to me. “The only good thing about him is…”

“Is his dick?” Franny fills in for me and Wilson just gives her a side look. “What? I don’t know if she picked him up and made him happy. Who knows, she might turn that frown upside down?” She laughs. “Look at how I turned you. You barely smiled before and now you beam with sunshine.” She shrugs. “You’re welcome.” She turns to look back at me. “Please continue.”

“It is not his dick,” I inform both of them. “He has the sweetest dog.” I put my hand on my chest. “I don’t even know his fucking name,” I tell her, taking another drink of wine and neither of them interrupt me. “I introduced myself and what did he say?” I ask them and they both look at me. “He nodded!” I say, frustrated. “Who doesn’t give the other person a name?”


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