The Paradise Problem Read Online Christina Lauren

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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Over her shoulder, I see Anna clocking this odd greeting with a bemused frown, and when I manage to extricate myself, Jake has leaned over and is whispering something in her ear. Anna gives a quiet “ohhh,” and then nods. “Right, okay, I remember.”

Hopefully she remembers, too, that if the question is whether we’re down for a threesome with Blaire, the answer is unequivocally no.

“Anna,” I say, “I’d love to introduce you to my sister-in-law, Blaire. Blaire, this is my wife, Anna.”

My voice breaks on the word wife. The sound of it seems to ping-pong around the small circle we make, but thankfully Jake doesn’t say anything, and Anna follows Blaire’s lead, accepting her air-kisses with a smile. “It’s really nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too, honey,” Blaire says in her Dallas twang. “Liam’s been keeping you all to himself for so long!” She cups Anna’s face, and for a second, I worry she might lean in and kiss my wife on the mouth, but instead she just looks at her for a few beats longer. Finally, Anna’s eyes slide to me, like help.

I sidle up to Anna, putting my arm around her shoulder, and Blaire steps back. “She’s a pretty one.”

“That she is.” I look down at Anna and we share a brief “look at us rolling with it” smile. And it’s possible I like how her shoulder feels in my cupped palm. “Where’s Alex?” I ask, though I don’t really care where Alex is.

Blaire shrugs, not bothering to look behind her. Blaire doesn’t care where Alex is, either. “Somewhere in there talking about work, drinking whiskey, or measuring dicks.”

Anna barks out a bawdy laugh before covering her mouth with her hand. “Sorry,” she says from behind it. The diamond on her ring flashes in the flickering light. “That surprised me.”

Blaire looks at her with new eyes. “Oh, I think I like this one.” She takes Anna’s hand, tugging. “You’re coming with me.”

I resist, keeping my grip on Anna’s shoulders. “Where are you taking her?”

“Inside for a drink.”

“I don’t trust you, Blaire.”

My sister-in-law winks at me and does a little shimmy. “You shouldn’t.”

Anna smiles at me, and in her eyes, I see it. I can handle this kind of crazy, she’s saying.

“You want me to come along?” I ask.

“I’ll see you in a few,” she tells me, and then disappears with Blaire into the tent.

I groan as Blaire leads Anna through a mass of bodies. “This could be bad. If memory serves, Anna is a very chatty drunk.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jake says. “She’s less likely to get cornered by Mom or Dad if she’s with Blaire.” That much is true. At social events, Mom and Dad avoid Blaire’s brand of unpolished bluntness at all costs.

The restaurant, Jules Verne, lives up to its name. With installations of fishing nets and vintage sailing paraphernalia, it’s a nod to Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. The floors are sand; the roof is reclaimed lumber and bamboo. There are long uninterrupted stretches of glass windows, but they are all thrown open, letting the outside in. A beautiful canvas tent has been raised just beside the bar to provide more space, and inside, the nautical theme continues. Lanterns made of green sea glass and rope swing overhead, sending ripples of light that look like water pooling across the floor. The bar is lined with highball glasses, and a bartender in a white shirt and vest agitates a cocktail shaker near his ear. A set of long tables are filled with what looks like tiny cups of prawn and papaya salad alongside platters of brightly colored fruit and roasted vegetables. My eyes snag on trays of fried brown rice on prawn crackers and chili, stir-fried noodles, grilled fish and octopus on sprays of fresh herbs, poke bowls, and a variety of local dishes I can only guess at. Across the room, I see Blaire introducing Anna to Reagan, Lincoln, and Nixon. She kneels down to shake Nixon’s hand and a tiny, fond twist behind my ribs makes me hold my breath, for just a beat.

“Did you prep her for the names?” Jakes asks me.

“I did.”

“Good. Anna has no poker face. How’s she taking everything?” he asks, and I know what he’s referring to: the planes, the island, the money. The family.

“As well as one can hope, I guess.”

He makes a sound of agreement as we watch the party around us. “The good ones usually run away.”

“Luckily I’m paying her,” I say quietly. “She can flee with her money when it’s over.”

“Alex asked earlier how much time I’ve spent with the two of you.” He looks over at me, grinning. “If it comes up, we’ve been to Santa Barbara and Cabo, where you and Anna bought a house.” Off my annoyed look, he adds, “I had to add some details to make it feel believable.”


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