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 see her!” Owen shouted, pointing toward the seawall.

“Where?”

“Over there—sitting on the rocks.”

I followed the direction of his finger and spotted the pale blond hair blowing in the breeze. My pulse picked up. “Okay. I don’t want you two near the water. Can you stay here please? Under this tree?”

“I think we should talk to her too,” Adelaide said. “What if you hurt her feelings again?”

“Then she won’t be our nanny and we’ll be stuck with you all the time,” Owen added.

“I’m not going to hurt her feelings again,” I said impatiently. “Now stay here.”

They groaned, but I held up one hand. “Listen, I just bought you guys fudge after breakfast. Give me a break.”

They exchanged a look that served as an agreement and plopped down beside the tree. “Fine,” Adelaide said, “but don’t mess this up.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Turning around, I took a deep breath and approached the seawall.

Veronica was sitting on one of the bigger boulders, staring out at the bay, her arms wrapped around her knees. Carefully, I made my way over to her and dropped down on the large, flat rock beside her.

It was windy by the water, so she might not have heard me approach, but when she didn’t even look over at me after I sat down, I knew I was being ignored.

“Hey,” I said.

She didn’t answer. Just pushed her sunglasses up her nose. They were round and oversized, like a movie star might have worn several decades ago. In fact, she could have been a movie poster sitting there by the water in her fancy outfit, the sun glinting off the gold in her hair. My heart began to beat faster.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Fine.”

I adjusted my hat and looked out at the sailboats and cabin cruisers in the harbor. The Pier Inn Marina was to our right, and out on the restaurant’s deck, people sat enjoying brunch under huge striped umbrellas. To our left was the unimpeded view of the water offered to the giant homes along Bayview Road. Lighthouse Point curved out into the bay just beyond the marina, each house boasting its own dock lined with water toys—boats, jet skis, giant inner tubes, dinghies. At the tip of the peninsula stood the lighthouse itself, looking pretty much the same as it had since it was built in 1884—white-painted bricks, windows on all four sides, the keeper’s two-story brick dwelling beside it.

Things were slow to change in Cherry Tree Harbor. And we had a historical preservation committee that liked to keep every stone, tree, and brick just as it always had been for the last one hundred and fifty years. People liked to complain about that whenever they wanted to modernize their home or business, but I sort of understood it. I was resistant to change too.

And I had a feeling the woman next to me could change everything.

I pushed that fear aside and focused on the task at hand. “You missed breakfast.”

“I wasn’t hungry anymore.”

“So you probably don’t want this fudge I got for you.”

She looked down at the bag I held out. “What kind is it?”

“Vanilla. They didn’t have any sprinkles—I asked.”

She didn’t laugh. “No, thank you.”

“Come on, Veronica. I’m trying to apologize.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“Because usually an apology sounds like ‘I’m sorry’ and not just ‘I got you some fudge.’”

“I’m sorry.”

Now she pushed her glasses to the top of her head and looked me in the eye. “For what?”

“For making you feel bad about last night. The truth is, I do feel guilty about taking advantage of you in a vulnerable moment, but that’s not why I kissed you.”

Apparently finding me sincere, she replaced her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Thank you. I accept your apology.” She held out one hand. “And your fudge.”

Relieved, I gave her the bag.

She reached inside, took out the slice, and bit off a piece. “Mmm. Want some?”

I started to say no, but she held it up for me to take a bite right from her fingers. As it melted in my mouth, I thought, This is what she would taste like right now if I kissed her—creamy, buttery, sweet. My insides twisted like a corkscrew. “Thanks.”

“So what’s your favorite fudge flavor?” she asked.

“I don’t eat many sweets.”

“But you must indulge sometimes.”

“Not often. I’m pretty disciplined.”

She took another bite of fudge. “What do you do for fun?”

“I make furniture.”

“But that’s still work,” she pointed out. “I meant in your spare time.”

“I spend all my spare time with my kids.”

“You don’t do anything just for you? Like, to let off steam?”

“I run, if I have the time. I used to have a motorcycle, but I sold it when the twins were born.”

“Jeez. You are all work, no play.”

“Who said that about me?” I asked testily. “Mabel?”

“Actually, it was Ari.”

I rolled my eyes. “Same difference. She’s like the second little sister I never asked for.”


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