Read Yours: A Standalone Contemporary Romance for Free Online

darling. So good to see you.” Muah…muah.
    “Hey, Mom.” I endure the kisses, don’t return them, instead opting to give her a too-rough man hug, just to piss her off.
    “Not good to see me too, Lachlan?”  
    “You know I hate it in Beverly Hills, Mom. Always have, always will. I’m only here because I promised you I’d come back for my thirty-first.”  
    “Your thirty-first…you know, I have quite a to-do planned. It’s going to be marvelous. I’ve invited pretty much everyone I know, which means it will be rather something.”  
    I slam the scotch down and attempt, badly, to tamp down my irritation. “Mom. I told you. No fucking parties.”  
    “I’m your mother. It’s your thirty-first birthday. It’s important.”
    “Only to me. I never expected to make it this far.”
    “But you did, despite your best efforts.”  
    “Yes, I did, despite my best efforts.” I pour more scotch, because I made Javier leave the bottle. “Thirty-one isn’t an important milestone to anyone but me, so the idea of a big party is just…stupid. And please note the fact that I did say no fucking parties .”  
    “If it’s important to you, Lachlan, it’s important to me.”  
    “Oh, come on. You just want an excuse to have one of your fancy soirees. All your friends, dripping diamonds and stiff with plastic surgery and Botox. No one is even capable of smiling!” I take a deep breath, because it wouldn’t do to get so worked up I have to take a pill, certainly not because of the froufrou bullshit denizens of Beverly Hills, California.  
    I’m a simple man. Give me a boat, some whisky, and some women. That’s all I need. It’s all I’ve ever needed.
    “Lachlan, dear. Let’s get back to the basics, shall we? The reason your thirty-first birthday is so important.”
    “I wasn’t supposed to live this long. I never expected to, and no else did either. Not even you.”
    “And I’m happy you have! Thus…a party.”
    I sigh. “Which I understand. I really do. But your idea of a party and mine…are rather different.”  
    Mom makes a sour face. “Yes. Indeed. Your idea of a party is booze and strippers. Mine is slightly more sophisticated.”
    “I’m insulted, Mom.” I sip some scotch; god, the burn is so beautiful. “I’d never pay a woman to get naked. When you’re this good looking, you don’t have to.” I grin, a broad, cheesy grin.
    It’s supposed to be a joke.  
    Sort of.
    I mean, it’s true. But it was a joke.
    Mom doesn’t get it. “Do you hear yourself, Lachlan Montgomery? You’re a pig.”  
    “It was a joke, Mom.”  
    “No, it wasn’t.”
    I tip my head side to side. “It is true that I’ve never had to pay a woman to take her clothes off—or do anything else, for that matter. But nonetheless, it was a joke.”  
    “Not a funny one.”  
    “That’s just because you don’t have a goddamned sense of humor. You’re just as cold and stuffy and stuck-up as all your friends.” I stand up. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got things to do.”
    “You’ve never worked a day in your life, Lachlan. What could you possibly have to do?”  
    “Didn’t I mention? I’m picking up some hookers. I’m having a kegger up at the Trinidad property.”
    “Lachlan.”  
    I shake my head. “Mom. Seriously. Learn to take a joke.”  
    “You have to at least make an appearance at your party, Lachlan. Please. It’s important to me.”  
    I finish the glass of scotch; crunch an ice cube—just to piss Mom off, again. “Fine. I’ll make an appearance. But that’s it. Don’t expect much from me past showing up for a drink or two.” I set the glass down, hesitate, and then take the bottle. “And then I’m gone. I’ve got a berth on an ice-breaker headed up past the Arctic Circle.”  
    “You’re kidding.”  
    “I never kid about travel, Mother. It’s the one thing I take seriously.” I lift the bottle in salute. “That, and women.”  
    “You could have done