Heart Strings Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
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“He says he is distracting you from your work.”

I disagreed. “You know I was struggling before I even met Logan. If anything, he has helped me focus on what is really important.”

It was true. I simply didn’t tell her what I was focusing on mattered more than mergers and the boardroom deals that my father obsessed about.

“He’s after your money.”

I gaped at her. “What money?”

“The money you will get when your father and I pass.”

I had to roll my eyes. “Since neither you nor Dad is ill, are both relatively young and healthy, I guess he has a very long wait. I highly doubt he targeted me on the off chance I’d come into money one day.” I was quiet as the waiter slipped our organic salads in front of us, then departed. “I’m a little insulted you would think that is the only reason any man would be interested in me.”

She pursed her lips. “Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

I sighed. “He cares about me, Mom. He really cares. He treats me so well…” I trailed off as I realized how close to tears I was. Surprised, I cleared my throat. I rarely got emotional. “He is wonderful,” I finished.

“He’s a teacher.”

“An honest job.”

“Can he support you?”

“I support myself,” I reminded her softly. “He makes me so happy. Shouldn’t that be more important than his bank account?”

I thought of the few men I had dated. One guy at university. He was my first crush, and it ran its course. We parted friends and moved on. I had gone on a few dates, even suffered through some dinners with my parents and men I knew they were trying to push because they were acceptable—to them. They all bored me. I was already surrounded by suits and business talk all day. I had no desire for that to carry over into my personal life. My father had even tried pushing a couple of his higher-up staff my way. They were only too happy to make a run at the boss’s daughter. I was horrified when I found out, and the one date I had agreed to go on before I found out why was a disaster. He was a younger version of my father, and I saw my life mapped out with him. Dull, predictable, and mind-numbing. I couldn’t imagine a future with him. With any of them. But I could with Logan.

She was silent, stabbing her salad as if it had somehow offended her. I ate mine, wishing for some creamy ranch instead of the kiss of oil and vinegar on top of it. I wondered about asking for some bread, then decided against it.

“We need to meet him,” my mother announced.

My fork froze partway to my mouth. I blinked and ate the bite of salad, chewing carefully.

“Will you be polite?”

She glared.

“I mean it. Will you give him a chance?” I reached out my hand. “Please, Mom. He is important to me.”

Again, I was sure I saw a softening in her eyes. Thought she was about to say something significant. But she only cleared her throat. “How important?”

“Extremely.”

“Brunch. Sunday. You will bring him.”

“I will ask. I’ll call you later and let you know.”

She seemed to relax, and the rest of the lunch went fine. My mom told me all the gossip and news in her world. None of it had anything to do with me and she asked me very few questions, but at least she was talking to me. I was surprised when she kissed my cheek before getting into her town car. “Call me this evening, Lottie. Let me know about Sunday.” She paused. “Is the boy allergic to anything?”

“No. The boy is a very good eater,” I deadpanned.

She didn’t get the joke, simply nodding and sliding into the car. “That makes it easier.”

I watched her car leave, then turned and headed back to the office, wondering how Logan was going to take the invite.

Would he accept it or simply tell me no? He wasn’t a big fan of my parents, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he decided he didn’t want to meet them at his point.

But he did surprise me.

“What time?” he asked, rubbing his chin, gazing at me across the table. He’d had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup waiting when I got home, welcoming me with a kiss and a warm hug.

“Usually eleven.”

“Do I have to be in a suit?”

I shook my head. “A nice shirt and pants would be appreciated.”

He tilted his head. “By your mother or you?”

I grinned. He wore business casual clothes every day to teach in, and he often had his hair pulled back. He was still sexy, although his rough edge was softened. “Those black pants hug your ass pretty nice.” I winked.

He chuckled and polished off yet another sandwich. “Okay. I can do civilized another day.”



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