Small Town Swoon (Cherry Tree Harbor #4) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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“Yes. I rented one.”

“Good. Take her now.”

I gave up fighting—no way I’d win against them both. “Can someone please grab my purse? It’s behind the bar.”

“I’ve got it,” Dash said.

Three minutes later, he pulled open the passenger door of a luxurious black SUV, and once I slid in, he set my purse on my lap and buckled my seatbelt. As he leaned over me, I caught a whiff of his cologne, or maybe it was a hair product or even just his skin. Whatever it was made me want to bury my face in his neck and inhale deeply.

He shut the door and hurried around to the driver’s side, while I closed my eyes and squeezed the towel around my finger. Of all the nights I’d imagined us driving off somewhere together, never once was it the emergency room.

“How’s the pain?” he asked, speeding away from Buckley’s Pub.

“Not too bad,” I lied.

“I’m sorry, Ari. It’s my fault.”

I stared at him. “Why would it be your fault?”

“I was making jokes and distracting you while you were trying to work.” He actually sounded sincere.

“It was an accident, Dash. I wasn’t being careful enough.”

He pressed his lips together, saying nothing. His profile was chiseled perfection, making my heart throb as hard as my finger.

When we arrived at the closest hospital, Dash dropped me off at the emergency room doors and told me he’d meet me inside after parking the car.

“You don’t have to stay,” I told him.

“I’ll be right in.”

I was sitting in the waiting room, listening for my name to be called, when he appeared in the doorway. My heart skittered at the sight of him scanning the room, looking for me with that concerned expression on his face. He’d ditched the ball cap, and his hair was slightly disheveled, as if he’d just run his fingers through it.

When he spotted me, he came over and sat down in the chair next to mine.

“You don’t have to stay,” I told him again.

“Are you going to keep saying that, hoping I leave?”

“Maybe.”

He leaned back, crossing an ankle over one knee, arms folded over his chest. “Well, I’m not leaving. How’s the finger?”

“Hurts.”

“Do you want me to call someone? Your parents?”

I shook my head. “They’re out of town for ten days. Anniversary cruise.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend,” I said, staring at my sneakers.

“Good.”

I risked eye contact.

He shrugged, his mouth curving up on one side in a sexy crooked grin. “Might have been awkward to call him, since you saw me naked today.”

I looked at my feet again.

“So have you recovered from the trauma of that experience?”

“I’m pretending it didn’t happen.”

“Oh. Cool. We’re good at that.”

“Good at what?”

“Pretending things didn’t happen.”

I sniffed. Raised my chin. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He laughed softly. “Oh, is that the game we’re playing?”

“You were the one who said we should forget it ever happened.” I lifted my shoulders. “And I have.”

“So the frosty treatment over the last eight years is because of something else?”

I finally looked at him. “I haven’t been frosty to you. I’ve barely seen you.”

“You’ve barely looked at me,” he corrected. “We’ve been in the same room plenty of times since then, and I’ve never been able to get you to talk to me. The last words I heard out of your mouth were ‘I hate you.’”

I dropped my eyes to my towel-wrapped hand. “I don’t hate you. I was just embarrassed.”

“Still? After eight years?”

“You rejected me, Dash. Maybe you don’t remember what it’s like to be sixteen, but I do. Feelings are big. I know it’s not your fault that you didn’t feel the same way, but I can’t help it that I wasn’t okay for a while after you turned me down.”

His voice grew softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I didn’t think it would be right to . . . do that.” He nudged my foot with his. “So can we be friends now?”

“Friends?” I feigned shock. “A big Hollywood celebrity like you wants a nobody friend like me?”

“You’re somebody to me, Sugar. You always will be.”

A warm feeling engulfed me, flooding my limbs, pooling in my belly. Attention from him always did this to me. “Then I guess we can be friends. But you have to promise never to bring up that night again.”

“Deal.”

“Ariana DeLuca?” called a nurse.

I rose to my feet, and Dash stood too. “Do you want me to come back with you?” he asked.

It was on the tip of my tongue to say no, but then I thought about needles again. “Would you?”

“Of course.” He put his hand on my lower back and walked me toward the nurse. “I was coming no matter what you said.”

He stayed with me the entire time—through the intake process, in the triage area, and while the doctor examined my finger. When she decided I needed a few stitches, I immediately looked at him.


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