HateMates Read Online J.D. Hollyfield

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense, Taboo Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
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We arrive at the bridal shop, and I jump out and rush inside, ignoring him when he tells me to wait. Fay is already here. Her smile quickly morphs into concern. “Oh, honey, you’re limping.”

“No!” I wave at her. “I have a pebble in my shoe. Oh my god, today is dress shopping day!” I sing, changing the subject.

“Right! I’m going to find you the prettiest dress imaginable.”

Unlike me, who would invite the world, Fay and Theo decided on a small, intimate wedding. The day is about them, and they want to be able to enjoy their guests, not feel like they’re running around hosting. I totally get it.

“As long as I get to wear a corset and those skirts that make my dress poof out like five feet. I want to look regal—like they did in the eighteen hundreds.”

Fay laughs, and a woman approaches us with two glasses of champagne. “Welcome, ladies. Today is going to be lovely. We have an array of dresses to choose from. Let me know your vision, and I’ll start pulling some for you to try on.” The bell to the salon rings, and she looks over our shoulders. “I’ll be right with you.”

I glance back, finding a scowling Tate. “Oh, he’s with me. Don’t mind him. He’s going to make himself invisible.” I clink my glass to Fay’s. “I’m so excited for you. I can’t believe you and lover boy are making it official in just a couple months.”

“I know. If it weren’t for my mom reminding me every two seconds, I probably wouldn’t believe it myself.”

Fay’s parents are super old school. She was raised in Ohio, and their way of life is a bit different from the fast pace of New York or Jersey, where they now live. “Well, get used to it. Once you’re married, wedding talk transitions to baby talk.”

Fay groans. “I can’t even think about having a baby. Can you imagine? Running a new restaurant and being a mom?”

“If I’m being honest, no. Sounds terrible. I’d rather swallow glass.”

“Right?”

“Okay, ladies. Let’s get started.” Since the appointment is all about me, Fay relaxes and sips her champagne while the stylist helps me in and out of dress after dress. They run the gamut of being godawful and painful because my shoulder and leg kill to making Fay tear up. We go through a lot of maybes, nos, passes, hard passes, and oh, hell no.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tate watching, chuckling at the gaudy ones, smiling at the elegant ones, and adjusting himself at the sexy ones. “Okay, this is the last one. And I think it’s the one.” I step out in a sheer, pale, mint dress. The material hugs my body like a glove and cascades to the floor, hiding my legs except for the slit that stops at my upper thigh. The straps wrap around my neck, leaving my back bare and accentuating my boobs.

“Wow,” Fay says. “I…” She wipes at her eyes. “Mindy, this is the one.” I face the long mirror, taking myself in. Not to sound conceited, but damn, I look good. I lift the price tag and almost choke. Turning to the lady, I ask, “Do you guys offer payment plans?”

“Oh, shut up. I’m paying.”

“No, you’re not. I can get the dress.”

“Too bad. Do you like it?”

I look at myself again, finding her eyes in the reflection in the mirror. “I love it.”

She claps her hands. “We’ll take it.” The woman nods, walks over to the register, and I disappear into the dressing room to change. After a few minutes, I hear Tate speak softly and then Fay is knocking on my door. “Let me in, Parks. I’ve got you.”

Frustrated that he sold me out, I open it. “You should have told me.”

“It doesn’t hurt as bad. And I need to move it around more. I have to work tonight.”

“Stop being stubborn, and let me help you.” She slides my shirt back on and steps back, eyeing me. “Are you sure you should be working? You were just in a serious accident. Maybe take some time off.”

“I can’t. I need the money.”

“Healing is more important.”

“Not when you don’t have a home to heal at. Look, it’s fine. I have a date. Maybe he’ll turn out to be my sugar daddy.”

“You what?” She stares at me, confused.

“Yeah, Vince. My savior, remember? He called and asked me out.”

“Hmmm…”

“I know what you’re thinking. That ship sailed—then it sank, never to be found again.”

“Hmmm…” she says again.

“Knock it off.”

“I’m just saying, I saw the way he was eyeing you in those dresses. I’m not sure that ship ever left the dock.”

“Yeah… well, that ship made it clear I’m not part of his journey. Now, can we not talk about him? I like this guy. He’s cute and funny. And normal.”


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