Fernhill Lane (Huckleberry Bay #2) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Huckleberry Bay Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
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I know they say that it’s not a big deal, but it’s still embarrassing. I’ll buy groceries for Scott and me, and I’ll hide them.

I don’t get to wait tables yet because I don’t have enough experience, but it’ll be okay to clear them and help wherever they need me. Gordy said that some of the servers will share some of their tips with me, and that would be cool.

Tanner Hilleman asked me out on a date, so basically, this is the best week that’s ever happened. We’re going to the movies Friday night. I don’t know what to wear, so I’ll have to ask the girls to help me.

A job, a cute boy, and SUMMER. Yeehaw!

TTYL,

Sarah

Chapter Two

Tanner

“Right?”

I blink and try to focus on the young woman speaking to me about a seascape painting hanging on the wall of my gallery. She’s been droning on and on, and I drowned her out with thoughts of Sarah.

“I’m sorry, would you mind repeating that?”

“I was just saying, the colors in this are so vibrant. It looks like there’s about to be a thunderstorm over the water here, and it makes me want to curl up with a blanket and a book.” She laughs and tosses her dark hair over one shoulder. “Which means I probably shouldn’t buy it for my office because I’d never get anything done. It is tempting, though.”

I nod thoughtfully. “I see what you mean. This artist is from up in Astoria, and we feature many pieces from him here in the gallery. Take your time to think it over, and let me know if you need anything.”

“Wait. Perhaps we should talk it over more, maybe over lunch?”

She bites her lip provocatively, and I want to roll my eyes, which is rude and unkind, so I simply smile but shake my head. “I’m sorry, I have commitments here. Spend some time with the art, and I’ll be around if you have questions.”

I nod politely and walk away from her. I’m simply not interested.

All I can think about is Sarah and the fact that she’s moving into my guesthouse right about now. Or sometime today, anyway. I want to be there to help her settle in, and just to be with her, which just sounds creepy as fuck, even to my own ears.

I sounded so confident when I assured her that it would be uncomplicated to live so close to each other, but it’s not that simple at all. Not for me.

Because despite my better judgment, I still have feelings for the woman that stole my heart at just sixteen years old. She was pretty as a young woman, but now she’s gorgeous. Smart. Witty.

And although she hasn’t come right out and said it, I suspect that a romantic entanglement is the last thing that Sarah wants after a bad marriage. I’ve given her space since she arrived home last year. Space to heal, to plant her roots here, and to get her equilibrium.

It hasn’t been easy. At one time in our lives, I wouldn’t have hesitated in reaching out to touch her to get her to talk to me.

We were as close and intimate as two people could get.

I was in love with her.

But, I was young and stupid, and because of hormones, I lost her.

Now, she’s back in my life, and as of this afternoon, she’ll be living about ten yards away from me.

“I’m an idiot,” I mutter before pushing my hand through my hair. How do I sleep mere feet away from her? I won’t, that’s how, because I’ll yearn to be in that bed with her, listening to the ocean as I make love to her. I’m a patient man, but even I’m not that patient. “Idiot.”

The bell over the door rings, and I see the back of the flirty woman as she walks out of it, and I’m not sorry to see her go.

I wander back to the painting that the customer was looking at and sigh. I’ve always pictured this hanging above the couch in the living room of the guesthouse, but I just never took the time to put it there. Sarah would love it.

She’s always been obsessed with the beach.

“I’ll take her any way I can get her,” I finally admit to myself. If that means that we’re just friends, and I make her feel welcome and comfortable in her new home, with no strings attached, then so be it.

Because although she’s never confided in me about what happened in her marriage, I can feel that she’s recovering from something bad.

And I’ll be damned if I give her even one minute of uncertainty while she’s living under my roof. I know what her childhood was like, so this part of her life will be exactly what she wants, on her terms.

She’s earned that.



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