California Waves (The Davenports #2) Read Online Bella Andre

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: The Davenports Series by Bella Andre
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
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There was so much love and commitment in the air with Arch and Tessa that couples and weddings were constantly shoved in her face. That had to be messing with her too. Her celebrity brother, who’d probably bedded more hot starlets than was good for him, had fallen hard for a woman who was genuine and decent and good. If Archer Davenport could find true love, why shouldn’t Mila Davenport?

As she slipped into underwear that was more about showing off her assets than anything else, she hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. The only trouble she could imagine with Herschel was that Mr. I’m Not Very Spontaneous might think anything beyond missionary position was too wild for him. And that would never do for her. She mustn’t set her expectations too high. That wouldn’t be fair. No doubt Herschel had been cramming for exams and worrying about quantum physics while she’d been living life to the fullest. Maybe he treated a woman’s body the way he treated some complicated machine in space. If so, she’d still enjoy him as much as she could, but thank goodness she’d been clear that she wasn’t likely to stick.

With those completely confused and contradictory feelings, she chose a dress so easy to remove that nobody would need a degree in quantum physics to figure out that loosening the two ties at her shoulders would allow the whole thing to slip to the floor.

Then she picked up the housewarming gift she’d bought today on impulse. She’d gone to the gallery displaying Tessa’s paintings and, knowing how much Hersch liked Tessa’s work, had bought a piece that would look great in his new house. Tessa had been painting a lot of seascapes recently, but she’d also spent some time in the woods around Carmel and had done a series of trees. This one was of a grove of the cypresses that only grew locally. The trees were whimsical and draped over each other like tired dancers.

She loved the picture and hoped Hersch would too. She’d deliberately bought the piece from the gallery, even though she could have gotten something direct from the artist at a discount, because she wanted Tessa’s paintings to move so that the gallery would keep stocking her. She could afford to support her future sister-in-law and really wanted to do so.

She drove up to Hersch’s new place and parked, but it took a few moments of breathing deeply to calm her racing heart before she got out. This jittery, nervous Mila was definitely not like the confident Mila who embraced her sexuality and enjoyed men on her terms for as long as she wanted and then said good-bye with no regrets. No. She felt quite different. There was a second when she wondered if she should drive home and text him that she’d suddenly come down with some illness.

But that would be crazy.

After another deep breath, she got out of the car. She picked up the painting that the gallery had gift-wrapped and made sure the card was securely taped to the front. As she walked to the door, she noticed a large cardboard box sitting beside the garage. It had held the mattress they’d bought together, and another shiver went through her. One more deep breath was necessary before she could ring the doorbell.

He opened it so promptly he could have been hovering, waiting for her to arrive. That helped calm her and remind her of who was in charge here.

“Hi there,” he said.

“Well, hello,” she replied. They exchanged a slightly awkward hug as she was holding the painting in one hand. He looked good enough to eat in comfy jeans and a navy blue polo shirt that showed off his muscular physique. His feet were bare, and something about that sent a shiver of lust straight to her center.

He stood back, and she walked into his home. The atmosphere felt slightly different, as though he was already inhabiting his space. How well this house suited him, she thought with a flicker of professional pride. She’d known it was perfect for him, and how right she’d been. He seemed much more relaxed now that he was out of the hotel and in his own space.

“This place suits you already,” she said.

They walked into the living room, which looked very much as it had when they’d toured the house, with the owners’ furniture. But there were a few touches that were purely Herschel—a photograph on the wall of him and his team in their spacesuits, ready to go out on a mission, and an old leather-covered globe. She wondered if that was how the world looked to him, so small and compact, when he was up in space looking down. The place smelled fresh, and she suspected a team of professional cleaners had already been through.


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