Mr. Ice Guy (Sven’s Beard #2) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Sven's Beard Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
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“He’s working on drawings for a Bigfoot mural for a big wall by the snack bar,” Keller said. “I’ll send everything out in a group email to keep you guys in the loop.”

Grady looked at his watch again. “Shit, I have to go. You guys coming to the thing tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Keller said.

“What thing?” I asked.

“It’s a barn dance,” Keller said. “At The Barn, the place I told you about. You can bring your kids. It’s family friendly.”

Grady scoffed. “Yeah, til the Markley brothers get tanked.”

“Can confirm,” Coulter said. “Robbie Markley urinated in a sink in the women’s room at a barn dance last year and it got ugly.”

“Ugly?” I asked.

“Lana Baker started wailing on him with her handbag. Some other women joined in.”

Grady clarified. “Robbie got his ass beat by a bunch of women, and he deserved it.”

“Sounds like it.”

“There’s usually no urinating in sinks,” Keller said. “You should come.”

I shrugged. “Sure, I’ll be there. My kids are staying the night with my parents tonight and I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“Prime time to find a rebound,” Grady said.

I cringed. “No, I’m good. The last thing I need is an entanglement with a woman who lives in the same small town I do.”

Keller looked at me like I’d just landed from another planet. “Are you planning to be celibate?”

“For the time being, yeah. Raising two kids is a full-time gig.”

He nodded. “I admire you for putting them first.”

“I have to run,” Grady said. “See you guys tonight.”

Everyone said goodbye and I headed for the parking lot, checking my phone on the way. I stopped walking when I saw the text I’d received while inside the complex.

Andrea: I miss you guys. Can you call me?

That was a hard no. My ex had a lot of fucking guts asking me to call her. I hadn’t blocked her because we needed to be able to reach one another in case of an emergency.

Anger churned in my gut as I deleted the text. Things were going well here, and I wasn’t going to let her stir up drama. She was in the past, and I was focused on the future.

By the evening, I’d cooled off over the text from Andrea. I’d taken the kids to my parents’ house and was driving my truck to The Barn, which looked like it belonged in an architectural design magazine.

The Barn. Only Keller would pick such a simple name for a place this grand. It was a few miles from The Sleepy Moose, located right on Lake Karlsson. The grounds glowed from string lights and had several little areas with gazebos, benches and landscaping.

I parked and went in, admiring the open two-story building. It had warm wood floors and wood plank walls, wood beams visible above. A band played onstage and people were crowded around a large bar area.

“You made it,” Coulter said, approaching me with a shoulder clap. “What are you drinking?”

“I’ll walk over to the bar with you,” I said. “Where’s Grady?”

Coulter scoffed. “On the dance floor with his woman. She loves to dance. Grady would walk through fire for that girl, I’m tellin’ ya.”

I spotted them—Grady was so tall and broad he was hard to miss in a crowd. He and Avon were dancing close, their foreheads resting together. I was happy he’d found someone he loved so much. Andrea and I had never been that way. She was practical and thought sweet gestures were cheesy, so I gave up on them early in the relationship.

“Holt Sellers! Welcome home!” A man clapped me on the back as soon as I reached the bar. “You may not remember me. I’m Ron Markley. I was a few years ahead of you in school.”

I didn’t remember him at all. But I did remember his last name from my conversation earlier today.

“Hey, thanks, man,” I said. “It’s good to be back.”

“Shots!” Ron called out. “Fireball shots all around! Where’s my brother?”

I cringed at Coulter and spoke in a low tone. “I’d rather do a shot of horse piss than Fireball.”

“Yep, same. I’m sticking with my beer.”

I ordered a Guinness and was standing off to the side of the large dance floor talking to Coulter when Grady and Avon approached us, hand in hand.

“Glad you made it,” Grady said.

“I spent the afternoon making birdhouses with my kids. It’s nice to have some adult company for a change.”

“Damn,” Avon said. “I meant to come take photos of that for the paper, but I couldn’t get away from the office.”

“You didn’t miss much. I tried to paint a mammoth on mine, but it looked more like a Rorschach test.”

Coulter squinted. “A what?”

“You know, the inkblots that aren’t really anything, but they ask people what they think they look like as a psychological test,” Avon said.

“Oh yeah, I always see boobs,” Coulter said.


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