Wright Kind of Trouble by K.A. Linde EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: K.A. Linde
- Language: English
- Genre: Sports Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.8 MB
- Price: Free
HARLEY
MARCH
“You look like you’re going to a funeral.”
I blinked at my brother and then gestured to my black lace dress.
“Excuse me?”
Whitton shook his head as he squared off his perfectly knotted silk tie.
“I know you wanted to be Winona Ryder, growing up, but don’t you think
this is taking it a little too far? You look like that girl from Beetlejuice.”
“Should I be insulted or flattered that you think I look like Lydia?” I
asked with a tilt of my head.
He laughed. “Only you, Harley.”
“Black is fine for a wedding. It’s a neutral color. You’re going in a black
suit!”
“I could wear charcoal,” he said with a shrug.
I turned back to the living room mirror to check out the waves I’d put
into my long blonde hair. “Don’t be pedantic.”
“Oh no, Harley is using her advanced vocabulary. You must have upset
her,” Whitton’s twin, Weston, said as he strode out of the kitchen with a
coffee in hand.
My brothers couldn’t be more opposites. If they didn’t look exactly
alike, no one would guess they were related. West was a laid-back musician
with a go-with-the-flow vibe, and Whitt was all five-year plans, business
suits, and strict schedules. The one thing they always agreed on was
ganging up on me. But I could give as good as I could take.
“You’re not even wearing a suit coat,” I said then pointed at his feet.
“And you’re in Chucks.”
Whitt winced as he looked at West’s attire. “She has a point.”
West raised his coffee to us. “Still wearing them.”
“We could put you in a suit.”
I grinned, having sufficiently distracted Whitt. And he was wrong
anyway. I looked nothing like Lydia, as much as it dismayed me. I’d even
forgone my normal Doc Martens for a pair of black heels that made my
already-long legs look miles long. I’d contemplated a pair of white
sneakers, but no way would Whitt have let me out of the house. Boy didn’t
understand fashion.
I slung my black bag over my shoulder and dug out my phone. I shot off
a text to Mom.
Wedding bound. Make the boys stop arguing.
A second later, in lieu of a return text, Mom’s face appeared on my
screen. I clicked open on the video call.
“Hey, Mom.”
Both of my brothers stopped talking and looked over at me. Well,
mission accomplished.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you excited for Jordan’s wedding?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
My mom shot me a quintessential mom look, her short blonde hair
falling into her round face—which was my mirror, plus twenty-five years.
“So eloquent, my little scholar.”
“You should have come in for it.”
It was her turn to be dismissive. “I don’t know what your brother would
have thought about that.”
Which was fair.
Our family was…complicated.
To say the least.
See, our dad was a cheating bastard. In fact, he’d had a whole other
family in Vancouver for years before he ever found our mom on a business
trip in Seattle for Wright Construction, our family’s namesake. Jordan and
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