Made For You (Made For #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison

Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)

From Wall Street Journal and USA TODAY bestselling author Natasha Madison comes

A brand new stand-alone enemies-to-lovers grumpy/sunshine sports romance.

A spin-off from the Only One series

I did the last thing I ever expected to do. I bought a boat. A beautiful boat that was all mine to spend the summer on.
Only thing I was looking forward to was the calm being on the water brought me.
A place where I wasn’t a hockey dynasty princess or the only single girl of the family.
What I wasn’t looking forward to was the broody man in the boat next to me.

I was at the top of my game two years ago.
Then it all came crashing down.
I hung up my skates and vowed to never play again.
I was good at hockey, but hockey was bad for me.
I planned to spend my life on my boat with my dog.
Alone. Happily alone.
Until she came along.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



I hear the front door open and slam closed, I hear footsteps, and then I smile. “In five,” I say to myself, holding up five fingers. “Four.” I close down one finger. “Three, two, one.” I point at the bedroom door as it swings open.

“What is taking you so freaking long?” my sister, Franny, huffs, coming into the room. “We said five minutes.” She stands there in blue jeans, ripped at the knee, and a white cotton T-shirt tucked into the front. Her blond hair is braided at the side, and her blue eyes are staring at me. We are opposites in every single way. Where she has blond hair, I have auburn hair, just like our grandmother. Where she has blue eyes, I have green eyes, they change with how I feel, and our height is the only thing we have in common. She also has bigger boobs than I do, but that is what the miracle bra is made for.

“How was I supposed to know you really meant it this time?” I ask her as I zip closed my luggage. “How many times did you say five minutes, and then I’m sitting in the car waiting for you guys to be done?” I close my hand in a fist and smack it with my other hand to mimic sex. I walk over to the side table to grab my laptop, putting it in my Louis Vuitton big bag.

“Valid point”—she laughs—“but we are in the car, and Dad already called twice. We are officially late.”

I shake my head, walking around the guest room, making sure I didn’t forget anything. “Why is he like this?” I ask, grabbing my luggage and Louis. “It’s not like there aren’t people at the house already. It’s Sunday.” Sunday lunch is notorious in our family. It started once and just kept going. It’s a day when we all gather at someone’s house and eat ridiculous amounts of food. “I bet you, right now, at least forty people are in his house, and he’s still pacing around like no one is there.”

We walk down the stairs toward the front door. “You know, unless the four of us are there, he feels like he’s missing a piece of himself.” She mimics the words he says all the time. I can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it. He’s big bad Matthew Grant, but his life is all about his family.

The hatch of the Range Rover swings open, and Wilson, Franny’s husband, gets out of the SUV. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt with a baseball cap backward. “What took you so long?” he asks, reaching for the bag in my hand.

“I thought you guys were banging,” I answer him honestly, and he laughs. “You know, since you don’t have the baby, you got to get a couple of rounds in before she comes back and cockblocks you.”

“As if my daughter would cockblock me,” he jokes as he puts my luggage in the back and presses the button for the hatch to close.

“It’s all fun and games until you walk in on your parents grinding uglies.” I close my eyes when I think back to walking in on my parents not so long ago. “I swear I’m suffering from PTSD.” I walk over to the back door of the SUV and open it, getting in.

The drive takes us less than three minutes, and I see the street lined with cars. “Why was he calling when he has a household full of people?” Wilson mumbles as he gets out of the car.

I laugh, getting out and walking up the driveway to the front door. My parents split their time between New York, where my father was the GM for the New York Stingers but is now the team owner, and Dallas, where my brother, Cooper, plays on the team. My other brother, Chase, is their team doctor.

The minute I open the door, I can hear the chaos from the kitchen spreading out into the foyer. The number of baby bags at the door is on another level. “There is your mom,” I hear my mother say as she walks into the room holding Stella, Franny’s one-year-old daughter.

“Hi, baby girl,” Franny coos, holding out her hands for her daughter, who just stares at her like she did her wrong.

I roll my lips. “Someone is holding a grudge,” I state, walking over to my mother and kissing her cheek. “Did your mom desert you, Stella Bella?” I ask her, and she just looks at me. “Trust me, this is so much better than walking in on her trying to ride your father.”

“Would you stop that?” my mother shrieks. “We were dressed.”

“Not even close.” I shake my head. “Not one stitch of clothing was around either of you.”

“Look at my princess.” Wilson smiles at Stella, and she side-eyes him, too.