Kiss Me Maybe (Princess Cruises Presents: Kindle Love Stories) Read Online Free PDF Page A

earth could she put on her game face and find her Richard? She could barely think straight. And the strangest part of all, it was as if earlier, she had been meant to wake up with her fingers threaded with Alexander’s.
*
    Three hours later and with one sneak-in complete, Megan looked over the attendees of the family reunion—her prospects—as they lounged in Crooners. It’s not that she was a shallow person by nature, but good heavens, these short, wide Richardson women spawned short, wide Richardson sons.
    “I see you made it, Princess.” Alexander towered over the entire room. She towered over half of it.
    If Megan kept frowning, her face would set that way. That’s how old maids and cat ladies started out, Grandma Trini had assured her. “I slipped past the blue-haired lady at the door by following some of the waitstaff when they arrived with the ice sculpture. It’s beautiful, by the way.” She flicked a quick glance to Alexander. No more than that. Because she would invariably begin comparing the wide-girthed, balding Richardsons in the room to him. And that was as shallow as it was unfair. Alexander was one of those men who caught your eye in the airport or on a plane somewhere. The kind of man who graced the covers of magazines about manliness and testosterone. The kind of man . . .
    “Hey there.”
    Megan turned to find a glassy-eyed, fishbowl-shaped man behind her. He was three inches shorter, but with her heels off, they might see eye to eye. “Hello,” she said, her heart thumping.
    “Don’t think we’ve met.” His gaze trailed down over her and though Megan didn’t usually mind a gentleman’s glance, it made her feel exposed. Of course, she had crashed his party.
    Alexander thrust a hand out. “I’m Alexander. This is my friend Megan. Are you married?”
    Megan sucked a breath and nearly choked.
    The man gave him a fleeting—and if she wasn’t wrong—disgusted look. “No, pal. But you’re not my type.”
    Megan disliked him instantly. Even if his name was Richardson. There was a dismissiveness to his manner that suggested he’d rather put others down than build anyone up—something Megan couldn’t abide. A server came by and he barked something at her. He rocked back on his heels. “I put this little party together, and when Cal Richardson does something, Cal Richardson does it right. You have to let people know who’s in charge.”
    Megan wanted to vomit. Alexander seemed amused by the whole thing.
    Cal swigged his wine then pointed the empty glass at Alexander. “You the guy my great aunt invited? Said you were some lotion mogul or something.”
    Alexander nodded. “She’s a fine lady.”
    Cal rolled his eyes. “She’s a kooky old bat. Needs to go to an old folks’ home, but refuses to leave the house my great uncle built for her. He told her he’d build a bedroom on the first floor before he kicked the bucket, but that didn’t happen. She can’t last there more than another year or two; that arthritis in her knees will teach her. She won’t be able to climb the stairs.” Cal seemed so dismissive about his great aunt’s plight, Megan hoped he’d have a coronary right there.
    She turned away from him and focused her attention on the woman at the front door. One of the waitstaff helped her get situated on a stool he’d brought from the bar. Standing and greeting the guests must have tired her out. Sadness spread through Megan’s system and her eyes slowly came up to find Alexander. She whispered, “I’d like to leave here, now.”
    Alexander’s eyes were on the blue-haired lady as well, and Megan wondered if he saw what she saw. A woman whose world was being stripped away by age and arthritis. A woman who loved where she lived and was willing to fight to stay there. A woman who wouldn’t give up.
    Her hand warmed and instantly Megan felt stronger. She glanced down; her fingers were twined with Alexander’s. How did that keep happening? And every time it did, why