Put Me in Detention By Meghan Quinn PDF Free Download

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Put Me in Detention

Put Me in Detention Summary

Put Me in Detention: I was hanging with the girls, celebrating my divorce when I saw him, my crush, sitting in the corner of the bar all alone. Being single and looking for a wild night, I asked him if he wanted to join me. To my delight, he said yes.

Drinks were consumed, fun was had and then . . . one drunken conversation with a cranky gondolier in Las Vegas led to an Uber lift through a drive-thru wedding chapel with the incredibly hot, British bad boy, Pike Greyson.

On paper, it seemed like I hit the jackpot. And if I wasn't fresh from a toxic marriage, I would have absolutely noticed the finer things about him.

But I wanted nothing to do with being married, so when I arrived back home from my eventful weekend in Vegas, the last thing I expected to see was a new doting husband already moved in.

I asked for an annulment, he pulled a Ross Geller and said no.

That's right, he said NO! Instead, he asked for three months to prove we could be good together.

Insanity clearly knocked him in the head and the only way I could convince him to give up on our sham of a marriage was to show him just how wrong we were for each other. Only problem with that was, he saw right through my every prank, every trick, and every yearning emotion I attempted to mask.

About the Author

#1 Amazon and USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.

Put Me in Detention Introduction

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

“Did you land?”

Yeah,” I mutter, as I make my way through the Las Vegas airport. Slot machines ding and bling as I weave toward the baggage claim. Weary travelers, hungover visitors, and clingy couples filter through the hallways, bumping into me or cutting me off as they spot an open slot machine—just one more chance to win before they leave. “Where the hell did you book me, again?

“Aria. There should be a car attendant ready to pick you up at baggage claim,” Killian, my oldest brother, says on the phone.

Does Pa know I’m here?”

No,” Killian answers. “He’s completely unaware.

The nerves building inside me from the thought of my father knowing where I am start to ease. Thank fuck.

And you swear on your cock, I won’t run into him?”

“Swear. You’re staying in different hotels, running in different circles, teeing off at different tee times. There’s no chance. Just go out there, kick-arse, and then go home. Simple.

I hop onto the airport shuttle and stand next to the door, my hand tightly gripping the handle of my carry-on. “I don’t know why I allowed you to convince me to do this.

Because you can’t say no when it comes to our foundation.

He’s right. When it comes to our foundation, Rabid Readers, I can’t say no. Many years ago, Killian and I started a foundation to provide an equal opportunity to every child to not only learn to read, but to have the resources to do so, and to keep them invested in literature.

With my recent move to the States, I stepped away from the foundation—and from my old life—but Killian begged me to do the golf tournament, knowing I could win a good chunk of change for the Rabid Readers. It took a lot of convincing, but I agreed.

Now I’m regretting it.

“And I booked you a flight out early Sunday morning. You’ll be back in your flat before you know it.”

Apartment,” I say absently. “Americans call them apartments.” Can you see my eye roll?

“Might not hurt you to loosen up while you’re in Vegas, you know.”

I stare out the window of the shuttle as it picks up speed. “The last thing I should do is loosen up,” I say, finally having a tight grasp on my life.

“Pike, you’re free now. Isn’t this what you wanted? A life of your own?”

I chew on the bottom of my lip.

“I don’t know what the hell I want.” The shuttle stops and I allow a few people to get off before I do. Rolling my bag behind me, I head toward baggage claim, where I see a row of drivers lined up with signs in their hands.

“Maybe this mini holiday will help you figure it out.”

I sarcastically laugh. “I doubt thirty-six hours in Vegas is going to change my life.

“You never know.”

I spot a driver holding a sign with my last name on it. “I have to go.

“You better beat Pa’s score.”

Trust me, that won’t be an issue. Just know, this is the last time I’m doing this shit for you, got it? I’m a silent partner. No more of this public appearance bullshit.

“Last one.”

“Good. I’ll call you later.”

We hang up and I stick my mobile in my pocket as I approach the driver. When he makes eye contact with me, he asks, “Pike Greyson?

I nod. “That would be me.

“PIKE GREYSON, didn’t expect to see your peevish ass out here.”

My back tenses from the sound of that familiar American accent—it’s my pa’s business partner. Fuck.

Slowly, I turn around, golf bag hanging on my shoulder, and adjust my sunglasses as I take in the sight of Cleat Burgess.

Cleat,” I say, giving him a smooth once-over. “Wasn’t aware you spent your weekends away from your mistress.”

His sharp eyebrows narrow. “She’s waiting in the clubhouse.

Figures.

Cleat Burgess is the epitome of a wanker. A fucking twat who cheats on his wife every chance he gets, especially on the weekends, and he makes no attempt to change his behavior. He’s a cheat, he’s an arsehole, and he’d sell his first kid if it meant he could gain an inch on the competition. I’ve never liked him.

Does your pa know you’re here?” he asks.

Knowing how this man works and the way he enjoys grating on people’s nerves, I regain my composure, not showing an ounce of the discomfort I feel, knowing that I’m probably teeing off with this prick.

No,” I answer.

A wicked smile spreads over Cleat’s mouth. “And why would that be?”

Didn’t feel like dealing with his ever-present halitosis.

His smile grows even wider. “No wonder why he despises you.” The feeling is mutual. “You’re a little shit.

I tilt my head in Cleat’s direction, not wanting to spend more time with him than I have to. “Always a pleasure.” When I turn away from him to see if I can grab a pint before I tee off, I spin right into a familiar body, his cologne a rich musk, the fabric of his clothes velvety soft and expensive. The deep, brown gaze staring back at me, the same as mine.

I’m going to kill my brother.

Pike,” my pa says, his voice stunned. “What on earth are you doing here?

Strapping on my smart-arse pants, because they’re the only ones I know how to wear when I’m around my pa, my only defense mechanism, I say, “Why, Pa-pah”—I make a show of it, raising my voice and acting like a cheerful tosser—“I’m so delighted to see you.” I lean in and give him a hug. His body is stiff as a board and I feel him already starting to fume.

“For fuck’s sake, Pike, don’t cause a scene.”

I let go of him. “Cause a scene? Why on earth would I do that? I’m just so happy to see my own flesh and blood, the one who disowned me and told me to crawl up my own arsehole and die.

His eyes sharpen. I’ve struck a chord.

Pa is always about his perceived image. The Greysons are held to a high standard, and we’ve been forced to live in not only the spotlight, but to live up to both public expectations and those put on us by our patriarch.

It would behoove you to shut your mouth and act like a civilized human,” he whispers through clenched teeth. “Something I know will be quite difficult for you.

“Because I’m a dodgy animal after all, right? Uncaged. Untamed.”

He adjusts the collar of his shirt and puts on a fake smile for the people around us. “What the hell are you doing here?

Making this your worst nightmare.” Isn’t that obvious? I mean, as a person looking in, it’s obvious, right? From previous comments my pa has shouted at me, you’d think that would be his conclusion. Not that I’m here for something other than him. Not that I would be here for, I don’t know . . . a foundation.

“I’m going to have a word with the organizer. Your presence isn’t needed for our foundation since I’m here.”

I’m not playing for your scam of a foundation that awards grants to rich kids.” Yeah, don’t even get me fucking started on the McArthur Greyson Scholarly Grant. The biggest crock of shit I’ve ever seen. “I’m here for Rabid Readers.”

Killian,” he whispers, realization hitting him from the obvious setup by my brother. “The half-baked bugger is too lazy to come out here and earn the money himself, so he sends his gormless git brother.” Pa rolls his eyes.

The words gormless git sear into my bones.

Those two words have been associated to my person for as long as I can remember. One of four kids in my family, I’m smack dab in the middle of my siblings, the troublemaker, according to my parents, the failure, the one who can’t seem to get his shit together. The one who didn’t make smart choices, but was constantly the gormless git. The idiot. The embarrassment. The black sheep.

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Put Me in Detention

Put Me in Detention PDF

Product details:

EditionInternational Edition
ISBN979-8796599594
Posted onJanuary 5, 2022
Formatpdf
Page Count444 pages
AuthorMeghan Quinn

Put Me in Detention By Meghan Quinn PDF Free Download - HUB PDF

Put Me in Detention: I was hanging with the girls, celebrating my divorce when I saw him, my crush, sitting in the corner of the bar all alone. Being single and looking for a wild night, I asked him if he wanted to join me. To my delight, he said yes.

URL: https://amzn.to/3vQJitk

Author: Meghan Quinn

Editor's Rating:
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