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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She turned around, her expression surprised. “Sure. But I’m not super fast or anything.”

“I don’t care. Come with me.”

A smile lit up her face. “Give me five minutes to change.”

She met me out front wearing her black yoga shorts and a Two Buckleys Home Improvement T-shirt, knotted at the waist.

I laughed when I saw it, my bad mood evaporating further. “Where’d that come from?”

“Your dresser,” she said, giving me an impish grin. “I stole it yesterday morning, so I didn’t have to walk back to the garage naked.”

“Looks good on you.”

She curtseyed. “Thank you.”

“Ready to run?”

“Yes, but don’t kill me, okay? My legs aren’t as long as yours.”

I eyed them with appreciation. “They’re pretty damn close.”

We jogged in silence, side by side, winding our way through hilly neighborhood streets and ending up down at the harbor. After catching our breath at the crosswalk, we hurried across the street and without saying a word, we both headed for the seawall.

I took her hand as we carefully stepped across the rocks to the same big, flat boulders we’d sat on the day I hired her. The sun was low on the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange. Seagulls swooped above us as I leaned back on my elbows and inhaled the lake air. The breeze cooled my hot skin.

“How was your afternoon with my dad?” I asked.

Veronica leaned back on her hands, her legs stretching out in front of her. “Lovely. He’s so sweet.”

“Did he show you off at the barber shop?”

She laughed. “Yes. Told all his friends he was on his first date in twenty years. We spent two hours at the farmers’ market, then he insisted on taking me for a ride on the ferry. He told me all about growing up in Cherry Tree Harbor, all the changes he’s seen, and how some things never change.”

“Thanks for spending the afternoon with him. I know you didn’t hire on to be an old man’s nanny.”

“It was honestly my pleasure. And you’re paying me for this week even though the kids are gone, so I want to help you out.”

“I appreciate it.”

“We made a date to go back again next Tuesday—I want to bring the kids too. And did I tell you he wants to come to my dance class tomorrow night?”

I laughed. “No. I’ve been trying to get him to go to that senior mixer for years. He says no to me every time, but naturally, since you’ll be there, he’ll go.”

She smiled. “Naturally.”

We rested there for a couple more minutes, listening to the gulls overhead and the water splashing against the seawall. From the nearby Pier Inn restaurant, I smelled something cooking, and hunger began to gnaw at me. I was about to suggest we head back and eat dinner when she spoke up.

“So what was your bad mood about earlier?”

“Something Xander said that pissed me off.”

“What did he say?”

I watched a sailboat glide into the harbor. “That I always seem to have a reason for not doing the thing that would make me happy.”

She digested that for a moment. “Do you disagree?”

“Yes,” I said, slightly irritated by the question. “I’m not unhappy. I mean, is my life perfect? No. But I’m doing the best I can with the cards I’ve been dealt.”

She studied me for a moment, then looked out at the water. “Xander is really different than you. He’s not as right as he thinks he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if he sees your sense of duty to people you love as a flaw in your character, he’s wrong. It’s part of what makes you, you. It’s what makes you such a great dad and son and brother and friend. You put others first, and that makes you happy.”

I looked over at her, wondering how she could know me so well in such a short time. “Thanks.”

“But it also means you ignore a lot of your own needs, and I think that’s why you get so uptight. It wouldn’t kill you to put yourself first every now and again, even with family,” she said. “Love isn’t an obligation. It’s a gift.”

“Excuse me. Did you just call me uptight?” I leaned over and poked her shoulder.

“Yes, I did.” She laughed. “But I’m doing my best to loosen up all your tight spots. Maybe I’ll give you that massage this week.”

“Maybe I’ll let you.”

She stood up and brushed off her butt. “I’m hungry. Should we go home and eat? I made orecchiette with bacon and summer squash that I got at the market.”

I looked up at her from where I sat on the rock. “You should wear my shirt every day.”

She beamed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it on you.”

It made her look like mine.

EIGHTEEN

veronica

The following morning, I was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs in the yard with a cup of coffee when a text popped up from Austin.


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