Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
After all, I’m not exactly someone who hangs out at coffee shops drinking joe on a Friday night. It’s not that I’m anti-social by any means, but I’ve always been so busy with my medical practice that I almost never made time for fun. My career has always taken precedence. But over the last couple of months, my life has changed because of the curvy girl, and if I’m being honest with myself, I love it.
Someone dims the lights and then the small stage at the front is illuminated. I watch as a young man hops onto the raised landing, looking almost like a puppy with his floppy brown hair and eager demeanor.
“Hey everyone, thanks for coming out to our first show ever. The Bean Bar is excited to have you, and we’re super stoked to welcome our first performer of the evening, Harlow Bauer!” The crowd gives a surprisingly rowdy round of applause, along with a few hoots and whistles.
At that moment, my woman steps onto the stage from behind a side curtain and smiles warmly at the host. The breath catches in my throat because Harlow’s never looked more stunning. She’s got a fitted green dress draped over those lovely curves with a denim jacket wrapped around her waist, emphasizing her hourglass figure. Her brunette locks are swept to the side and her cheeks are that perfect shade of pink that makes her look so fresh and sweet. I feel my heart clench as I take in her beauty.
“Thanks Jeremy,” she says before turning her attention to the audience. “Hi everyone, I’m Harlow and thanks for having me. I’ll be singing a few original songs for you tonight, and I hope you enjoy them.”
A grin spreads across my face as the beautiful woman situates herself on a tall stool behind the microphone. Then she strums her guitar for a minute, her eyes closed as she listens to the chords. A second later, she opens them once more and looks across the crowd. When her eyes meet mine, she smiles and to my surprise, my heart melts inside my chest. Shit, what is she doing to me? But Harlow merely plows on ahead, smiling that secret smile.
“This one is one that’s especially special to me because I wrote it for someone who has a big part in my life. I hope you enjoy,” she murmurs before beginning to play, and for the next several minutes, I become lost in the cadence of Harlow’s throaty, sultry voice. The lyrics describe the start of autumn but then how the extras days of summer sneak in unexpectedly, which to me, sound like a metaphor for love. It’s mind-blowing, and I can’t help but be wowed by the young woman I feel so strongly for. My heart pounds with emotion and to my surprise, I’m actually swaying along with the music. Holy shit, this is magical.
But of course, the set ends too soon and before I realize it, Harlow stands up and takes a small bow. “Thank you everyone!” she says sweetly before slinging her guitar under her arm and sauntering off-stage to thunderous applause. While the next performer readies their instrument, Harlow makes her way over to my table.
“Hey you,” she purrs before a quick kiss on my mouth.
“You were amazing,” I whisper, pulling her in close for a longer kiss. Mine, I growl to myself.
Harlow blushes. “Thank you, and I definitely had fun. I haven’t sung like that in a long time.” Her brown eyes sparkle happily.
“I loved your first song especially.” I take her hand in mine and caress the soft skin of her wrist. “Your lyrics were captivating, baby, and straight from the heart too.”
“I write what moves me,” she whispers. “The lyrics are very timely too, I think.”
I cup Harlow’s cheek in my hand, staring deep into those chocolate brown eyes. “I know what you mean because the feeling is mutual, sweetheart.”
At that, the intimacy is so intense that I could swear we’re communing on another level. But then Harlow giggles. “You are too much, Sam White, but now, I need a coffee. Is it crazy that I’m imbibing caffeine at 7 p.m.?”
I shake my head.
“Hell no, join the crowd, honey.”
She laughs.
“Okay, can I get you something?”
I shake my head.
“No, baby, I’m good. Any more coffee and I’ll never sleep tonight.”
Harlow puts on a pouty face. “I wasn’t planning on either of us sleeping tonight,” she retorts sassily. With that, she trots off, and my eyes are glued to that round backside as she heads for the espresso counter.
Shit, what’s going on? Harlow’s song struck something deep within me. The words were powerful and her passionate delivery stirred my heart. Yet I know it’s wrong because what the hell? I’m the man of the house. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about a girl who’s nominally related to me.