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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She smiled. “Perfect. Done in the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“I just need a minute.” She brushed past me, leaving the scent of her perfume in her wake—it was summery and sweet, and I wanted to bury my face in her neck and inhale deeply.

Disconcerted, I put my shoes on and went outside. While I waited for her, I shot a quick text to Eric and let him know we’d be there in about thirty minutes. He didn’t reply, so my hopes that a table would be waiting for us weren’t too high. I figured if the place was too jammed, I’d take her into Cherry Tree Harbor instead. It was a longer drive, but I felt more comfortable there than anywhere else.

The front door opened. “I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s go.”

As she breezed by me, I smelled her perfume again. I followed her to my car, fighting the urge to throw both arms around her, pull her back against me, and let the scent fill my head. Dammit, I hadn’t been this attracted to someone in years. Why the hell did she have to be Sully’s celebrity sister?

After turning from the cabin’s driveway onto the main road, I noticed a car parked on the shoulder about two hundred yards away. A beige Honda Civic. Dent in the left rear bumper. Michigan plates. It hadn’t been there earlier, and my intuition told me to memorize the number. As we passed it, I saw a guy behind the wheel on his phone.

She reached for the volume knob on my radio and turned it up. An old Springsteen song was on. “Is this okay?”

“Sure.”

“What kind of music do you like?”

“All kinds, really. Classic rock is probably my favorite.”

“Do you listen to country?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Ever listen to me?”

“No.” I felt sort of bad about it. “But my niece Adelaide is a big fan.”

“Oh yeah? How old is she?”

“Seven.”

“Does she live around here?”

“Yeah. My brother Austin’s family—that’s Adelaide’s dad—also lives in Cherry Tree Harbor.”

“I’d like to meet them.”

I was thinking about asking her if she’d like to go to the barbecue tomorrow, but then she started singing along with the radio, and I got distracted. Her voice was warm and pretty—it sort of wrapped around you like a blanket—and I heard none of the mournful tone from earlier. She seemed like she was in a much better mood, and it made me feel good.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the Backwoods Bar and Grill, I could tell by the number of cars parked beyond the asphalt on the grass that the place was probably at capacity or beyond. “Got a hat in your bag, by any chance?”

She glanced at her shoulder bag. “Shoot—no. I forgot it.”

“Let me see what I have.” I got out of the car and opened the hatch in the back, spotting a black Two Buckleys Home Improvement cap. Grabbing it, I shut the hatch and walked around to the passenger side, where she’d just hopped out. “Here,” I said. “Wear this.”

She read the front of it. “Two Buckleys? Which two?”

“My dad and my brother Austin.”

“Ah.” She stuck the cap on her head, pulling it low on her forehead. “How’s that?”

Fucking adorable, actually, but all I did was nod. “Keep your head down. When we get to whatever table they give us, take the seat facing the wall or window, not the door.”

She saluted. “I’m ready to go in, coach.”

As expected, the place was crammed with people. Keeping Kelly right in front of me, I maneuvered through the throng and had a quick word with Eric, who said he’d let the hostess know we were here, but it would be a few minutes. I bought a couple beers and tugged Kelly over to one corner of the bar. With my back to the wall, I instructed her to face me.

She stood close, her breasts nearly grazing my shirt. The scent of her perfume caused my body temperature to rise. Trying not to breathe in too deeply, I gripped my beer and concentrated on staying aware of our surroundings.

After a couple minutes, she started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, glancing down at her.

“Your face. You look like you’re ready to kill somebody.”

“I’m just trying to give off the vibe of an unfriendly, possessive boyfriend. I don’t want anyone approaching us.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So we’re pretending to be on a date, is that it?”

“No.” I frowned. “That is not it.”

She giggled again. “Oh, come on. I don’t get to go on normal dates. It could be fun! We could make up little pet names for each other, like bear-bear and mudbug.”

“We will not be doing anything of the kind.”

“You’re the worst fake boyfriend ever.” She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Buckley? Party of two?” the hostess called from the entrance to the dining room.


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