Full Throttle (Reynold’s Restorations #5) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: Reynold's Restorations Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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His shoulders dropped. “What if⁠—”

I shook my head. “Then we’ll deal with it. But Halton has this. I know it.”

He lowered his head and kissed me. “I love you, Cherry. Thank you for being here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

With a huff of air, he stood and headed to the door. I watched him walk away, still in awe of how he looked in a suit. The dark navy looked great on him, and although nowhere near the caliber of the suit Halton wore, it looked good, fitting Dom’s broad shoulders and tapered waist well. He wore a white dress shirt and a patterned tie. He’d even pulled out a pair of dress shoes, and he looked every inch a respectable man.

A very sexy one, at that.

I couldn’t begin to fathom how much my life had changed in such a short time. Only weeks ago, I was missing Hannah terribly, disliking my job and the apartment I lived in. I was always alone, unless she was visiting or I went to see her, which, given her roommate status before Chase, wasn’t often. I never felt welcome at her old place. That all changed when she moved in with Chase. He’d driven into Toronto before the fire to ask for my blessing to marry her, and I was thrilled to give him my enthusiastic agreement. Last night, he’d come over to Dom’s, telling me his plans on proposing on her birthday, and I eagerly offered to help. I loved him and the way he treated my daughter.

And I was going to marry Dom. Live in a house I’d fallen in love with and build new memories. No longer alone, no longer missing my daughter. Everything I loved, everyone I loved, would be close. My life had finally changed, and I could put away the sorrow I always felt and live in the present, no longer wishing for the past.

And Chase had brought a surprise with him. My mother’s quilt. He and Dom had been allowed to enter the apartment briefly. Not much remained, but they got the blanket, my small jewelry box, and took the photos that hadn’t been destroyed. Chase told me that Brett’s girlfriend, Kelly, who was a photographer, was going to help restore the pictures when they came home from their trip. I’d lost my clothing and some items, but the quilt and the photos were worth so much more to me. The quilt had been treated and washed several times and was fine. I had been more than delighted.

“Excuse me.”

I blinked as my musings were interrupted, and I looked up, seeing a woman with a young boy beside her.

“Can my son sit with you?”

I had been so deep in thought, I hadn’t even noticed the couple leave the table. I was alone.

“Yours is the one table with an empty seat,” the woman explained.

“Oh, sure.”

“I have a meeting upstairs, and my babysitter canceled last minute,” she huffed.

“I told you, I don’t need a babysitter,” the boy objected, color blazing on his cheeks. “I can look after myself.”

“I’ll watch him while I’m here,” I assured her. “Happy to share my table.”

She pushed him toward a chair, and he sat down heavily, rolling his eyes. I tried not to laugh. I guessed him to be about twelve, and I remembered Hannah at that age, constantly trying to prove her independence. His mother handed him a knapsack. “Your games are in there. And a snack. Get a drink if you want or something else to eat, and I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished dealing with this.” He nodded.

“Thank you,” she added to me before hurrying away. The boy watched her, then reached into his knapsack for an iPad. He ignored me as he began to play something on it, and I sipped my coffee, opening my Kindle. I rested it on my cast that was now a little dirty and covered in drawings and funny jokes everyone at the garage had scribbled on to it. Dom wrote me love messages, and I enjoyed finding a new one from time to time.

“What did you do to your arm?”

I met the deep brown eyes of the young man across from me. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and he pushed it away impatiently, the gesture somehow familiar.

“Oh, I broke it falling over a table.”

“Were you drunk?” he asked, grinning.

“No. My apartment was on fire, and I couldn’t see where I was going.”

His eyes became round with curiosity. “You were in a fire?”

“Yes.”

“Were you scared?”

“Yes, I was. But my fiancé saved me.”

“Cool.”

He looked at my arm again. “What’s all the writing?”

“Oh, I work at a garage, and the guys write me jokes.”

“Like a mechanic shop?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. He reminded me of someone. The shape of his eyes and face. The way one side of his mouth lifted a little higher than the other when he grinned. He was tall and lanky. Awkward. But he seemed nice. Polite.



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