Well Played Read Online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
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“Your gramps, actually. You’re just like him. Wouldn’t know a good woman if she smacked her titties in your face. How do you think he and I got together?”

“Well, I hope it had nothing to do with you smacking your titties in his face. But please spare me the details.”

“You remember his friend Roland?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

“You know Roland and I used to be together. We were a thing.”

“I didn’t know that, actually.”

“Yeah. Roland kicked me to the curb to go back with his ex-wife, and it took your gramps two years before he grew the balls to ask me out. He was too afraid of what Roland would think, even though Roland and I weren’t with each other anymore. I know that’s what’s going on here. You like Miss Presley, but she’s your brother’s ex girl. So you’re not making a move. You’re just taking your frustration out on her.”

“You know what I think? That you’re making shit up right now.” I shook my head. “You are right about one thing, Fern. I wouldn’t be pursuing any ex of my brother’s—but especially not Presley.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have to list the reasons. Plus, I don’t trust your big mouth—with all due respect.”

She flashed a mischievous smile. “How much are you gonna give me if I’m wrong, rich boy?”

I squinted. “Wrong about what, exactly?”

“About you two hooking up someday?”

“That’s a losing bet for you.”

“Ten grand,” she demanded.

This woman is out of her damn mind. “I don’t place bets.”

“Liar. You got one goin’ right now with Presley about whether she can book up this place.”

“That’s my one exception.” I scratched my head. “Anyway, what the hell would I get out of this?”

“Maybe I’ll consider leaving this place quietly so you don’t have to kick me out.”

“Now you’re tempting me.” I laughed. “Anyway, ten grand? You’re not asking for much, are you?”

“I know you’re good for it. Many times over.”

“I’m not gonna end up giving you shit, except maybe a few months’ rent after I have to kick your ass out when we sell this place,” I teased.

“If you’re so sure of yourself, why are you scared to bet me?”

She was starting to piss me off. Mainly because her challenge made me feel so on edge.

“You know what? You got it, Fern. Ten freaking grand. That’s how confident I am that you’re smoking crack right now.”

***

That afternoon, I brought over a realtor who’d been recommended to me to look at The Palm Inn. Even though Presley seemed determined to make a go of the bed and breakfast, I still needed to prepare for when she inevitably couldn’t since the Franklin Construction offer wouldn’t last forever.

I texted Presley to let her know Harry Germaine would be coming by around two that afternoon.

After I greeted him at the door, I let him in and began showing him around The Palm.

I suddenly heard loud music coming from the kitchen.

What the fuck?

I made my way over there, and Harry followed.

Fern and Presley were dancing—fucking dancing. And Fern was drumming a spoon against a pot. There was an ancient-looking tape recorder on the counter playing the music. After a few minutes, I realized what it was. The voice was all too familiar.

“Is that Gramps singing?” I asked.

Fern smiled wide as she banged on the pot. “Sure is.”

My grandfather used to play the banjo out front and sing along to old country songs. The neighbors would sit on the lawn and listen with their beers in hand. Those were some of the best memories. I never realized we had any of his performances recorded. I closed my eyes and took a few moments to transport myself back to that time.

“He kept a stash of himself singing on tape. Loved to listen to himself, that man,” Fern said.

“Just another wonderful memory here at The Palm Inn.” Presley smiled at me exaggeratedly.

“I know what you’re doing.” I groaned. “Don’t think I’m stupid.”

“Oh, I’m not even trying to pretend. My intentions are no secret, Miller.”

She winked at me, and I got the strangest urge to bend her over the counter and slap her beautiful ass. I definitely would be keeping that to myself.

Harry and I left the kitchen, and the music faded as we made our way around the house. I noticed Fern had left bras hanging to dry in several of the rooms. More than usual.

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m sensing a common theme here.”

“Not sure why she needs to do that. We have a damn clothesline out back.”

Actually, I knew why she’d spread them all around today. She was trying to mess with me.

“Well, hopefully once we start showing the place, you can clear them out,” he said.

I eagerly changed the subject. “So, what do you think in terms of a listing price?”

“I think we can go even higher than previously estimated, actually. Not to mention, now is a really good time to sell, given the market. I would highly suggest getting the ball rolling.”


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