Hideaway Heart (Cherry Tree Harbor #2) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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“What, try to keep you safe?”

“No! Stick me with a big, hairy jerk on my vacation!”

“I’m not a jerk,” I told her. “I’m not even that hairy. And if you’d just give me a chance, I think you’ll like me.” I gave her my most winning smile, with just a hint of smolder. “Most people do.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, I appreciate that you want to repay my brother and all, but he’s overreacting. I’m not Taylor Swift. I don’t need you.”

“And I appreciate that you’d rather not have me around, but I gave my word to your brother, and I intend to keep it.”

“Just because my brother trusts you doesn’t mean I do!” She stamped her bare foot. “I am in a no-trust zone right now.”

“I heard about the breach with your former security team. And that one of them is trying to sue you. All the more reason you need protection.”

“It’s not just that. I’m sick and tired of being pushed around and treated like my feelings don’t matter.” She was so worked up, her towel came loose, and she struggled to keep it in place.

I held up my hands. “I’m not here to push you around.”

“Ha! Just the sight of you is nothing but a giant, tattooed reminder that I can’t call the shots in my own life.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But for the next two weeks, you’re stuck with me.”

She took a breath and tried a different tactic. “Well, you’ll have to sleep in your car, because there’s only one bed.”

“What about the couch?”

“Out of the question. This place is too small to share.”

“Do I get bathroom privileges?”

“No. Find a tree.”

I shrugged, pretty sure she was bluffing.

“And I don’t want to see you creeping at the windows either. No spying on me.”

“I’m not a spy, Kelly.”

“Whatever. For my brother’s sake, I will attempt to tolerate your presence as a sort of guard dog,” she said, making it clear that was not a compliment, “but you will be an outdoor dog, is that clear?”

“Perfectly.” Never in my life had I wanted to walk out on a job so badly, but I’d given Sully my word. Turning around, I pushed open the front door. “I’ll be outside.”

“Get used to it.”

Jesus. This was country music’s sweetheart?

I went out the door and assessed the outside of the place, noting all the doors and windows. I’d already looked up the address on Google maps and knew there were no close neighbors on any side. Then I looked over the gray minivan parked next to the house. When I’d seen it, I couldn’t believe that was what Pixie Hart was driving. I’d been expecting a cute little convertible or some kind of pricey foreign car. Peering into the back, I wondered if it would be more comfortable to sleep in than my SUV. Had I known there wouldn’t even be a couch to crash on, I’d have at least brought a tent.

For now, I decided to park myself on one of the rocking chairs next to the front door and try not to think about the fact that I’d seen her naked.

Wet and naked.

I shoved the image from my mind and dropped into a chair. As the sun began to sink behind the trees, I stretched out my legs and clasped my hands on my chest, running through my task list for the bar. I’d emailed everything to Veronica earlier, given her all the contact info, let her know when the beer and liquor distributors were coming, when the A/V guys would be there, when the final inspection would happen.

Thankfully, I already had bartenders, servers, and a chef lined up, but I was still going over applications for barbacks and other kitchen staff. It could probably wait until after the soft opening, but maybe I’d ask Veronica to look over the applications just in case there was anyone with awesome experience we didn’t want to lose.

From inside, I heard a hair dryer running for a few minutes. After that, I heard the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, pots and pans clanking in the kitchen, and then music. Pretty soon, the smell of something good began wafting through the screens—something Italian maybe, with tomatoes and garlic and basil. I’d eaten a late lunch but no dinner, and my stomach started to growl. Dammit, why hadn’t I brought a snack?

This whole thing had been so rushed, I hadn’t been able to think straight while I was packing. To distract myself from hunger pangs, I went to my car and grabbed my laptop. Back in my rocking chair, I opened up my computer and realized I needed to ask her if this cabin had Wi-Fi.

Setting my computer aside, I stood up and peered through the screen door. She stood at the stove with her back to me, and the music was so loud, she didn’t hear my knock. Opening the door, I poked my head inside. “Excuse me,” I called.


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