Fernhill Lane (Huckleberry Bay #2) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Huckleberry Bay Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
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Now she stares up at me like I’ve just grown a second head.

“I just said that there’s no rush. I mean that. She’s not in a hurry. Listen to me,” I insist when she turns away and stares out at the water.

“I think I’ve heard enough.”

“No.” My voice is firm now, surprising her into whipping her head over to stare at me in surprise. “You haven’t. You told me just yesterday that your dream is to paint for a living. This opportunity isn’t quite that yet, but you have to start somewhere. Do you think that I can look into your eyes and see how fucking unhappy you are and then sit back and do nothing until you decide that you’re brave enough to do it yourself?”

“Fuck that,” she says, this time surprising me. “This isn’t about you, Tanner. It’s me. My art. My time. My job. If I want to sell it, I will, and it’s not up to you to decide whether or not I’m being brave enough to do it. Maybe it’s something that I just want to keep for myself because it means something to me. If I choose to share it with the world, it’ll be under my own goddamn terms. I won’t be forced into anything just because you’ve decided to be a knight on a white horse and swoop in to rescue me. I don’t need to be saved, Tanner. I’m doing great just as I am.”

“Right.” I nod and push my own plate aside. “You’re right. I should mind my own fucking business. Except, spoiler alert, you are my business.”

“Not everything I am is up to you. Isn’t it okay, and normal, to have an off day? An off week? Hell, some people have an off year. I had a bad week, and it got to me. That doesn’t mean that I have to be brave and turn my life upside down. I just got it flipped in the right direction as it is, and maybe I’m not ready for a big change right now. Not because I’m not brave, but because I need a little calm for a while.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. You are brave.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but it’s how you feel.” She licks her lips and pets Petunia when the cat hops up on the table. “I kind of hate that everyone sees me as this broken, hurt woman when I’ve pulled myself up, worked a job, and I’m putting my life together pretty damn well. If you’re not happy with where I am in my life, maybe we’re not ready to be together.”

And with that, she scoops up the cat and walks out on me, marching right for her house.

I hear her slam the door shut when she gets there, and I swear ripely.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I mutter to myself as I clear the plates away and carry them to the sink.

I should leave her be for a while. Let her calm down.

I lean against the counter, and then decide, fuck that.

When I get to her front door, I knock loudly.

She doesn’t answer.

So, I knock again. “Come on, Sarah, I want to talk to you.”

She cracks the door and glares at me through tear-filled eyes, and it’s almost my undoing.

“Hey, don’t cry.”

“Just go away, Tanner.”

She tries to close the door, but I press my hand against it, stopping it.

“Please let me in, Sarah.”

Finally, she just walks away, and I set off after her. The house isn’t that big, so there’s not far to go.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” I begin and then take a step back when she whirls on me and advances like we’re in the ring and a million dollars is on the line for the winner.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings, you nitwit. You pissed me off. I don’t need you to decide what’s best for me. I can do that by myself.”

“You’re right. You’re more than capable. And I did see you hurting and thought I could swoop in and help. But, and hear me out here, the client would likely pay several thousand dollars for each piece, Sarah.”

“I don’t—” She stops. Stares. “You accidentally said several thousand dollars.”

“No accident. And she’ll be there whenever you’re ready. There’s no pressure.”

“Felt like pressure, Tanner. Thank you for trying to help me. I know it came from a place of kindness and care for me, but—”

“Love.” I shake my head and walk to her, no longer afraid that she might poke my eyes out, and cup her face in my hands. “It came from a place of love. Because I love you, and I want you to be happy. If that means that you want to work at Gordy’s, great. If you want to sell art, cool. Hell, if you want to sit on my deck all day with your cat, I’m down for that.”


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