Runaway Love (Cherry Tree Harbor #1) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
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“I think—I think our timing was just bad, you know?” I tried hard to smile. To be brave. “Maybe if we’d met some other time, in some other place, we could have been something more. But the way things are, it’s just not meant to be.”

He nodded slowly.

“I wouldn’t trade the time we had together for anything, Austin. You were so good for me. You don’t even know.” I felt tears spring to my eyes. “But I think walking away now is best.”

“It will be hard,” he said quietly.

“I know.” A lump was trying to form in my throat. “But I’ll be gone soon, and your life can go back to normal. Mine will too.”

He opened his mouth, and I thought maybe he’d argue with me—I wanted him to argue with me—but he didn’t. He kissed my forehead, took my hand, and led me back inside.

“I need a minute,” I said at the ladies’ room door. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Then I went into the bathroom, locked myself into a stall, and cried.

When I came out, he was gone.

TWENTY-THREE

austin

Standing over to one side of the dance floor, I watched her come out of the bathroom and made sure she got back to her table. Then I stood nearby like a sentry, making sure no one laid a finger on her or Ari.

Xander told me I was being stupid, then gave up talking to me completely and went to find someone to flirt with.

I stayed right where I was until Veronica and Ari left, then I stealthily followed them outside, making sure they made it to their car okay. It was only when I saw them drive away that I went back inside and ordered a beer.

Xander found me at the bar. “Dude,” he said. “That was the most obvious tail I’ve ever seen. They totally saw you following them out.”

“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly.

“I don’t fucking get it.”

I tipped up the bottle. “You wouldn’t.”

“Why don’t you go after her?”

“I can’t.”

“Because . . .”

“Because she’s afraid that if we keep messing around, she’ll end up hurt when she has to leave.”

“And she has to leave?”

“She has to leave. She wants to leave. This isn’t her home.”

Xander cocked his head. “You sure about that?”

The following week was better—and worse.

Better because Veronica didn’t ignore me, I made an effort to include myself in conversations, and if we happened to find ourselves alone in a room, we didn’t run in the other direction.

But it was torture that I couldn’t touch her. Every time she got close to me, I battled the urge to take her in my arms.

Better because Tuesday night, she and the kids came out to the garage and invited me to watch a movie with them, and instead of staying out there alone, I said yes and joined them.

Worse because I could hear her laugh, but I couldn’t put my arm around her in the dark.

Better because Thursday was my dad’s birthday, and we all went out for dinner at The Pier Inn. More than once I saw her glancing over to the table by the window we’d shared.

Worse because I was doing the same and wishing I could have that night alone with her all over again.

Better because Friday evening, she went out with Ari, and this time I forced myself to tell her to have a good time and go to bed early. My bedroom window was open, and I was relieved when I heard her come home around ten and go up the stairs to her apartment.

Worse because I so desperately wanted to go knock on her door and kiss her goodnight, but I couldn’t.

Better because Saturday morning was their 5K, and I tagged along, signed up to run it at the last minute, and waited for them at the finish line, pretending to be asleep. The four of us had such a good time together. That night I thought she might hit The Broken Spoke again with Ari, but she didn’t, choosing instead to spend her evening in the backyard with me and my dad and Xander and the kids, roasting marshmallows on the grill, sipping a beer, and watching the twins and some other neighborhood imps dance around with sparklers.

Worse because I wanted to pull her aside where no one could see and put a hickey on her neck, so I’d still feel like she was mine.

I wanted it so badly that when we found ourselves alone, I lost control.

She was just coming out of the bathroom off the kitchen—I’d watched her go into the house and followed her a minute later—and as soon as the door opened, I barreled in and shut it behind me.

“Austin, what—”

But I didn’t let her finish the question. I took her roughly in my arms and put my mouth on hers, kissing her hard and deep. She fought me for less than two seconds, then gave in, her hands skating over my back and down my ass, pulling me against her. Sliding one hand into her hair, I used it to tilt her head to one side and moved my mouth down her throat.



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