Under the Radar (Reynold’s Restorations #4) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reynold's Restorations Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
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Except, my omission felt like a lie. And given how closely my past was linked with Charly and Maxx, she would find out.

I scrubbed my face in vexation. I had no idea what to do.

But I knew one person who would tell me.

And her name was Charly.

Charly poured us a coffee and looked at me across the table. “What’s up?”

“I almost kissed Hannah last night.”

“Kissed, like you did me this morning?”

I shook my head slowly. “No.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Well, that was fast.” She sat back, sipping her coffee, looking around the kitchen. “When I first got here, Maxx and I struck sparks off each other. He made me mad, and I liked to push his buttons.”

“You still do,” I pointed out dryly.

She grinned. “But now I know what to expect. He’s going to get all growly and pissy and throw me down somewhere and get all his frustrations out.”

“TMI, Charly.”

“There is a point here,” she replied.

“Can we get to it? I’m getting uncomfortable.”

She laughed. “Whatever. Mom and Dad do have sex, Chase. A lot of it.”

I wanted to cover my ears, but I nodded. “Well aware. Everyone is.”

She chuckled. “It took us a while to admit our feelings. Especially Maxx. I knew I loved him early on. You’ve had feelings for Occifer Cinnamon for a long time.” She paused. “I think she has some for you. But you both have pasts. Your record.” She paused and took another sip of her coffee. “Whatever she is running from.”

I hunched closer. “She has nightmares, Charly. She cries in her sleep.”

“Do you wake her up? Or does she wake up on her own?”

“Neither. The first night, I went in to check on her. I stroked her head and talked to her a little, and she stopped. I-I’ve been doing it every night.”

Charly studied me. “You need to show her she can trust you.”

“How?”

“Show her that you trust her. Tell her about your past.”

“She could just look it up in the system. She might already know.”

“I don’t think Hannah would do that. But if she knows, then you have your answer. She does trust you. If she doesn’t, she has to know—it’s only fair.” She studied me. “I can tell you are feeling guilty about withholding it from her.”

I huffed out a deep breath. “You’re right. I am. I want to be honest, but I’m scared.”

“If this was just a roommate scenario, I’d say to leave it, but it’s obviously not. You have feelings for her, Chase. You have to be honest.”

“I know. I’m worried she’ll reject me.”

“Then at least you’d know. Don’t push this relationship forward without being honest, Chase. You saw what happened with Kelly and Brett. With Gabby trying to do everything on her own. Take it slow, and tell her when the time is right.” She leaned forward, clasping my hand. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Thanks, Charly.”

She nodded. “You were right to come to me. I am wise about this stuff.”

“Maxx would call you nosy.”

“Maxx is a man of few words. Same thing.”

I laughed as I stood and drained my coffee. “I’ll head into the garage now.”

“Okay.” She waited until I was at the door before she called, “Chase?”

I turned. “Yeah?”

“I like her, and I think the two of you would be an awesome couple.”

I grinned. “Me too.”

“I think she’d be lucky to have you.”

I laid my hand on my heart. Coming from Charly, that meant more than I could express. She was my sister, pseudo-mother, and friend, all rolled into a smart-mouthed redhead I adored.

“Thanks.”

She winked, but I saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She pretended to be tough, but we all knew she had a heart of gold under the swagger.

She waved her hand. “Be off with you. Make me money.”

“Okay, boss.”

The garage was swamped, and the rest of the week flew by. Hannah was there when I got home, and we spent a little time together at night. Conversation was easy between us. She would share bits of her day. I would tell her about amusing incidents in the garage. We sat at the kitchen table, leaning on our elbows, chatting. The living room and hall were now shrouded in plastic, the furniture and floors covered, the holes filled in and primed. Waiting for the weekend. Hannah had the paint mixed, and all the supplies were ready. Friday night, we ordered a pizza, and I laughed when I opened the fridge to grab us a beer.

“Enough food in there?” I asked. “When do you plan on using all of that?”

“Tomorrow. Stuff for sandwiches, burgers, and sausage to barbecue. Condiments and fruit. Mom will make some macaroni salad, and I got cupcakes.”

I began to laugh. “Okay, Cinnamon.”

“Your nickname makes no sense. I’m not a redhead like Charly.”

I tapped the bridge of my nose. “It’s the sexy little dots of cinnamon on your skin. Not your hair.”


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