Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bellamy Creek Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
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Me: Yeah. I know what I want to say, I’m just scared it’s going to come out wrong.

Cheyenne: Speak from your heart. If you do that, you can never go wrong.

While I was thinking about that, and what I’d say to her if I spoke from the heart, she texted again.

Cheyenne: And if all else fails, think fortune cookie.

I smiled.

Me: Thanks.

Cheyenne: Mariah is done. Want to talk to her?

Me: Sure.

A moment later, my phone vibrated. The screen said Cheyenne calling, and it gave me a little kick, even though I knew it would be Mariah’s voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, peanut. Having fun?”

“Yes. I’m so excited!”

I smiled. “I miss you. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

“That’s because the bridesmaids aren’t supposed to be with the groomsmaids before the wedding.”

“Groomsmen,” I corrected with a chuckle.

“Groomsmen. Are you guys ready yet?”

“Not quite. I have to put my suit on, but then I’ll be ready.”

“We’re already dressed. We’re going to take pictures in a minute. As soon as Blair is ready.” A big sigh. “She looks so beautiful, Daddy. Like a fairy tale princess.”

For a fleeting second, I thought of my wedding day—the nerves, the excitement, the hope, the thrill. Would I ever feel that way again, like I had everything to look forward to? Or would I always have to look back in order to experience joy? Why did happiness have to be just a memory? I glanced down at my ring.

“Miss Cheyenne looks beautiful too,” Mariah was saying.

I swallowed hard. “I’m sure she does. I can’t wait to see you all.”

“Okay, I have to go because the photographer is telling us we’re leaving.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon, peanut. I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

I waited for a moment in case Cheyenne came back on the line, hoping she would, but there was only silence on the other end.

Disappointed, I tossed my phone on the bed, and started to get undressed.

As I traded my jeans and flannel for a dark blue suit, white dress shirt and burgundy tie, I couldn’t help noticing how empty and quiet the room was. I glanced around, wondering what it would be like if there was another suitcase on the floor, a black dress hanging in the closet, makeup and hairspray and earrings on the bathroom sink. It would even smell differently in here—like orange blossoms in the middle of winter.

There would be someone to talk to at the end of the night, someone familiar in a strange bed. Someone to hold, to whisper to in the dark, someone whose skin felt like satin against mine, who put her hands and mouth on me, who was warm and soft and beautiful. Someone who wanted me.

Someone who loved me.

I looked behind me at the bed, where I’d lain with Cheyenne last night, where I’d slept fitfully and alone, missing her, where I’d sleep alone again tonight, unless I was willing to take a risk.

Straightening my tie, I looked at my reflection and made up my mind.

Then I pulled off my ring and headed out.

“You ready, man?” Beckett clapped his hands on Griffin’s shoulders. We’d just finished taking groomsmen photos down in the bar, which wasn’t open yet, and we were having a quick shot before heading over to the barn.

“I’m ready,” Griffin said, and he looked it. No sheen of sweat on his forehead, no nervous laughter, no shaking hands.

“Here you are, gentlemen.” The bartender placed four shot glasses of whiskey on the bar with a grin. “For courage.”

“Look at him, he doesn’t even need it,” Moretti said with a grin, handing Griffin a shot.

“No, but I do,” I said, grabbing one for myself.

“You’re gonna be great.” Griffin slung an arm around me.

Moretti held his up. “Beviamo alla nostra,” he said. “To us.”

“Don’t be a dick.” Beckett elbowed him. “Make it to Griffin.”

“Relax, will you?” Moretti shot him a look. “We’ve been drinking to Griffin for weeks. And we’ll be drinking to him all night. I just wanted to take a moment and appreciate our friendship. It’s been a long time, and we’ve seen each other through a lot of things.”

I nodded, thinking about the struggles we’d endured as friends over the last twenty-plus years. It was easy to forget how rare our bond was—these guys were like brothers to me, and I couldn’t imagine my life without them.

“A lot of hardships, but a lot of good times too,” Moretti went on. “Especially those baseball championships where we beat the pants off the Mason City Mavericks.”

I raised my glass. “To the Bellamy Creek Bulldogs.”

“To brotherhood,” said Beckett.

“To the next twenty years,” added Moretti.

Griffin lifted his glass higher. “And fuck the Mavs.”

We laughed and tossed back our whiskey.

After one more shot—for warmth, we decided—we set our empty glasses on the bar and made our way through the ice and snow over to the barn, where the ceremony and reception would take place.


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