Hideaway Heart (Cherry Tree Harbor #2) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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I hadn’t backed down when that James Bond guy wanted money. I’d stood up to Duke. I’d admitted my feelings for Xander. And when it was time, I’d stand my ground with PMG. If they wouldn’t let me make the record I wanted to make, as Kelly Jo Sullivan, I’d leave. The music was what mattered to me.

A shadow fell across my face, and I thought it was Xander. “You’re always blocking my sun.”

“Sorry, peanut.”

My eyes flew open to see my dad standing there. “Daddy.” I sat up and swung my feet to the ground, wrapping the towel tighter around me.

“Don’t get up. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He sat down on the chair next to mine, facing me. Hands on his knees. “Whatcha thinking about out here?”

“Lots of things.”

“Big week, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you given any more thought to the PMG deal?”

“Some.” I tested the waters. “I might walk away.”

He looked offended. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I want to make music that means something to me. And I’m tired of not having a say in that.”

“But they’ve been good to you. Duke thinks you’d be crazy to—”

“I don’t really care what Duke thinks,” I said firmly.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I just think you ought to listen to him. He cares about you.”

“I doubt it.”

“You two have history,” he said pointedly. “And history matters.”

“Yes, history matters. And he wasn’t good to me, Daddy.” I met his eyes. “No matter what he says now, he wasn’t good to me then. He hurt me.”

Anger flashed in my father’s eyes. His spine straightened. “He hurt you?”

“Not with his fists. It wasn’t physical.”

“Oh.” As if my emotional pain was just a trifle, he relaxed again. “All relationships have ups and downs.”

“He wasn’t faithful to me.”

“But he still loves you. I know he does.”

“That’s not enough, Daddy.” My chest was so tight, I could barely breathe. “It’s not enough to just love someone. You have to show them you mean it. You have to stay.”

His jaw ticked. “Some people just aren’t meant for it. So you take what you can get when you can get it.”

I knew his warped philosophy on love stemmed from his own upbringing, and I nearly backed down. But then I remembered what I’d said to Xander in the car the night we’d danced at The Broken Spoke. The words I’d practiced.

“That’s not the kind of love I want, Daddy. It’s not good enough.”

“Is that why you won’t give me the loan? Because I wasn’t a good enough father?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Kelly Jo,” he argued, like I’d known he would. “That’s your problem. You expect perfection. You can’t handle it when the people who love you are flawed.”

“Yes, I can, Daddy. I can accept your flaws. And I love you, I honestly do.” I stood up. “But I deserve better.”

Leaving him there, I walked into the house. My legs trembled, my chest ached, and my eyes were filled with tears.

But I’d done it.

What the fuck was this day?

I went straight to the gym in my basement, where I found Xander doing pushups on the mat like his life depended on it. When he saw me, he popped to his feet, his expression concerned. “Hey. You okay?”

I threw my arms around him. “I’m okay,” I said breathlessly. “I had the chance to say the words to my dad, and I said them. I said them!”

“Holy shit. Did you really?” He held me a little tighter. “Your entire body is shaking.”

“I know.” I peeled myself off him and hitched up my towel. “But I did it.”

He tucked a strand of damp hair behind my ear. “I’m proud of you. How do you feel?”

“Better. I mean, I don’t think he’s going to change. He is who he is. But I don’t feel like a trampled-on doormat right now, and that’s a good thing.”

He pulled me close again. “That’s a very good thing.”

Closing my eyes, I inhaled. “You smell like sweat. I kinda like it.”

“Why don’t you take off your towel and suit and I’ll get it all over you?”

I laughed. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we go up and take a shower together? Then we can order in and bring dinner upstairs to my bedroom and ignore everyone for the rest of the night.”

“Hmph. Your idea involves more patience.”

“But it lasts longer.”

“True. I guess I can be patient for you.” He pinched my ass, making me shriek. “I’ll need the practice.”

On Wednesday, Duke and I had a final rehearsal, during which I used every shred of acting ability I possessed to appear as though I was still in love with my ex, a woman desperate for a second chance. I held his hand. I moved in close. I looked into his cool blue eyes and pretended I was lost to them.



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