Midwest Fighter (Kendall Family Book 2) by Jennifer Ann Read Free Book Online Page B

nothing more than her striking presence. With a natural, fair grace comparable to Princess Kate and the man-eating gaze of Beyoncé, she’s bloody intimidating. The way everyone flocks to console her, one would think she was the celebrity and not her brother-in-law. Evelyn mentioned her oldest sister is rather dramatic and has been struggling through an identity crisis of sorts while living down in Miami. Beyond that, she’s a bit of a mystery.
    As for their middle sister, Sofia, that one’s as hard as an ice sculpture despite being beautiful and able to make a yawn-worthy pants suit look couture. The way the funeral director fidgets as she speaks with a stern look, it would seem she’s putting her law school tricks to practical use. I’ve done my best to avoid any interaction with either of Evelyn’s sisters, worried they’d eat me alive.
    Evelyn, Charlie, and his sister Katie, gather in a huddle with James and their uncle. It hurts my heart to see my friend in so much pain, but knowing her husband refuses to leave her side and make her go through this alone lessens the pain to a manageable degree.
    James is an entirely different story. Beautiful face hard and lined with stress, body drawn tight, he’s in the same state he was the night we discovered him in the boxing ring. Angry and cold. Hardened inside and out with a steel gate around his heart. The weight he’s carrying on his shoulders makes him appear decades beyond his 24 years. His chocolaty eyes drift across the room, from sibling to sibling, like he’s taking stock of their well-being. Their mighty protector.
    I’m struck with the urge to run to him and wrap as much of his massive body I’m able to in my arms, wanting to absorb a bit of his worry. My body vibrates with the memory of him touching me until I had reached the highest of highs in my sexual conquests. Whatever transpired between us was unshakable and I yearn for another opportunity to feel his beautiful lips on my skin.
    Once again I swear he can sense that I’m ogling him like a nutter when his complex gaze finds me. His body appears to tense so tightly that it’s a miracle the chords in his neck don’t burst from all the pressure. Something dark flickers inside the depths of those brown orbs—I haven’t the faintest idea if it’s repressed anger or something more convoluted he’s projecting across the room. All I know is the ferocity of it all sends delicious tingles down my spine.
    Though no one is paying any attention to the strange British girl, I excuse myself from the table and stumble out to the hallway. Suspecting James regrets our tryst the other night along with grieving the unexplained loss of a great man has my noggin spinning. Rubbing at my temples, I stare out a window onto the barren landscape of the cold, blustery afternoon.
    “Don’t worry, this will be over before long, and we’ll be heading uptown for drinks,” someone says from behind me.
    I spin around, thinking it’s the voice of James, only I’m met with a strikingly similar version. Though I’d only spoken briefly with Hunter at the wedding and hugged him in the reception line after the memorial service, I’d be able to spot their differences a hundred miles from afar. Not only is Hunter giving me a smart look that I’ve never seen cross through James’s expression, but his body language is relaxed. And then there's his notably smaller, lanky frame, clearly indicating he’s not one to express his anger with his fists all hours of the day. But most telling is the lack of unimaginable torture reflected in his beautiful brown eyes.
    “Alcohol does have the power to make everything hurt a bit less,” I agree. Wrapping my arms around myself, I offer him a smile. “How’re you holding up?”
    “I’ve had better days,” he answers, shrugging. His splayed fingers pass through his thick hair. “Nothing could’ve prepared my family for this kind of shit.”
    “It’s unimaginable. You have my deepest