Back in the Saddle (Avenging Angels #2) Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Avenging Angels Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
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“It’s fine,” Ava replied.

Shirleen turned on her. “The man has a woman and a cat, he needs more than a tree and three moose.”

I agreed with her.

However, I didn’t think buying Christmas decorations for his home was something I could do without Eric there. The bough wasn’t a thing, men dug greenery, but the moose with fur mufflers were pushing it. Though, Eric had just smiled when Gracie and Maisie had put them out. That said, I thought he did that solely because Gracie and Maisie were the ones who put them out.

Ava opened her mouth to say something, but Shirleen put up The Hand right in front of her face, and added, “Stop! What is that racket?”

Everyone listened.

We heard nothing but Christmas music turned low.

Shirleen walked to Eric’s smart-home unit, bent to it, and demanded, “Alexa, stop. Play. Nat. King. Cole. Christmas.”

The Jonas Brothers stopped playing and Cole’s The Christmas Song started.

So much better.

“There.” Shirleen swiped her hands together like she’d just completed a taxing job. She then divested Moses of the tray, whipped off the foil, put it down on the island with all the other food (I was particularly proud of the ginger cake with brown butter icing Ava and I had thrown together). Shirleen then decreed, “Now it’s a party.”

“It’s a party when I have a beer,” Roam muttered.

“Word,” Cap agreed.

They headed to the fridge.

“Oh my God, that cake looks amazing,” Raye said as she came to my side and bumped hips with me.

Ava lifted her martini glass. “Wait until you taste her cocktail.”

“It’s a wet run for the holiday extravaganza at the Oasis,” I told her. “Pomegranate gimlets.”

“Are you shaking?” Shirleen asked me.

“Always,” I answered, taking her hint and heading toward the cocktail shaker.

She hiked her ass on a stool.

“Men, over here, I think we’re off by a quarter of an inch on the left side,” Luke, standing behind the couch, arms crossed on his chest, was studying the placement of the now lit bough with a critical eye.

Roam and his opened bottle of beer went to stand next to him. “It’s so thick, how can you tell?”

“Yup,” Moses, also having gone to look, agreed. “Quarter of an inch on the left side. I got it.” He then moved to the bough.

“A quarter of a—?” I started to ask after something that was obviously unimportant.

But Shirleen giving me a look and shaking her head stopped me.

Her look said, As a woman’s thing, it’s totally unimportant. As a man’s thing, it’s the end of the world and has to be fixed immediately. Leave it.

I processed this wisdom and left it.

An hour later, Jeff had showed with a bottle of Grey Goose, he got intros all around, and we were all on the sectional with drinks (Roam, by the way, had claimed Henny), when Eric and the girls trudged in laden with bags.

While Eric greeted the not-so-newcomers, Maisie dragged her bag right to Ava. “Look, Mommy! We went to Pottery Barn and Uncle Eric got these!” Whereupon she pulled out two toss pillows.

One was in the form of a snowman with a top hat and a red scarf, the other was much the same shape, but it was a red Santa with his hat pulled over his eyes and a fluffy beard.

“Aren’t they perfect?” Maisie shrieked.

“Absolutely,” Luke answered, and Maisie shot her father a dazzling smile.

“I’ll get the batteries,” Eric murmured.

“I’ll help!” Gracie cried and skipped along with Eric’s long strides as they headed to the pantry.

“Batteries?” I asked.

“For the trees that are gonna sit with the mooses!” Maisie told me.

She then tossed her spent bag aside and raced to the Michael’s bag Eric had set on the floor.

“We got the ribbon, and we got some purple ornaments to match, and we got these!” She yanked out some stocking hooks that had gold stars.

After showing us those, she set them on the coffee table then went to another bag that Eric had brought in, this one Pottery Barn.

“And a stocking for you.” She tossed a white, honeycomb faux fur stocking at me. “One for Uncle Eric.” She tossed a bright red cable knit stocking at me. “And one for Henny!” she brandished the last above her head.

From what I could tell through the movement, it was a brown velvet stocking with black embroidered pine trees and black trim.

“I think they got things covered,” Moses murmured, humor in his tone.

“Whose idea was Pottery Barn?” Ava asked suspiciously.

“Uncle Eric’s,” Maisie replied. “Gracie told him the mooses were lonely, and Uncle Eric said mooses live in a forest, we had to find trees. So we looked at the trees at Michael’s, but they’d been picked over. Then Aunt Shirleen texted Uncle Eric about Pottery Barn, and he said we should try another store, and that’s when we got the pillows and stockings and trees. And this!”


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