Small Town Swoon (Cherry Tree Harbor #4) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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I dabbed at the corners of my eyes and felt Katherine pat my shoulder.

“So many people had a hand in getting me to this incredible moment. Ms. Walsh, my first grade teacher, who made me love acting. All the directors and producers and fellow actors I’ve worked with over the years—I’ve learned from every single one of you. To the Academy, for this unbelievable recognition. I don’t feel worthy of it, but I will do my best to live up to the honor you’re giving me tonight. To Katherine Carroll.” He smiled, maybe remembering the shark onesie. “Thank you so much for seeing something in me. For taking a chance on an unknown, whose box office draw was unproven and whose talent was raw at best. You set this in motion with your intuition and generosity, and you put me up here with your vision and artistry and skill. I am forever in your debt.”

I glanced at Katherine over my shoulder, unsurprised to see her dabbing at her eyes as well. Earlier, she’d told us her niece and all the birthday party attendees were watching, eager to see their favorite actor win the big award. Dash went on to thank a few more people involved with the production, and the entire cast and crew for making him better. Finally, he looked at me.

“And to Ari, who owns my heart.” He placed a hand on his chest. “Thank you for encouraging me to open it up to the world. It’s because of you that I understood what a man is willing to do for someone he loves. Our story is still being written.” The music began to play, indicating it was time for him to wrap up, and he nodded. “Thank you all, and have a great night.”

Everyone applauded as he walked off, and I gave up trying to hold it together, bawling my eyes out into a tissue. If the world saw me cry, so be it. My heart was full.

Dash and I celebrated all night, hitting all the big parties, fielding all the usual questions from reporters, and posing for a thousand photos. We didn’t make it back to our hotel suite until four in the morning, our cheeks numb from smiling, our feet sore from standing, our stomachs growling with hunger. We ordered room service and went out on the balcony, where I sat on his lap under the stars.

I looked up and saw one go shooting across the sky. It didn’t surprise me at all—this entire night was full of magic. I made a wish, the same one I’d been making nearly all my life.

“Tired?” Dash asked, tightening his arms around me.

“I will be tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow.”

“Hush. I’m still enjoying this night.”

“It has been pretty unforgettable.”

Sighing, I kicked off my heels and held his head close to my chest. “It feels like a dream. Is this a dream?”

“Maybe.”

I closed my eyes. The last two years had been surreal. After getting the role of Johnny, Dash had given his all to the production, which involved grueling shoots in mud and rain and freezing temperatures halfway across the world. There had been delays and rewrites and reshoots. I’d learned more about the movie business than I’d ever wanted to. But Dash had remained grateful and dedicated, and his hard work had paid off. Critics had praised his sensitive, nuanced portrayal of a man torn between love and survival—many mentioned his emotional depth. Audiences had swooned at his romantic charisma. And the box office returns had been fantastic. The studio was thrilled.

And casting directors had taken notice—Dash had plenty of offers to choose from now, and we often looked at scripts together and talked about what kind of project he should do next to stretch his creative muscles. I wanted him to do a rom-com, of course. Dash wanted to play a villain. “They have all the fun lines,” he insisted.

When he wasn’t on set, Dash was in Cherry Tree Harbor with me. He hadn’t sold his house in Los Feliz, since he sometimes needed to be in L.A. for work, but other than when he was shooting, we were together. The separations weren’t easy, but so far, we hadn’t gone more than three weeks without seeing each other, and the time apart made our time together that much sweeter.

I was busier than ever at the diner. Thanks to Hugo Martin’s post and the local news stories about our anniversary, Moe’s was thriving. Our last two summers had been our best ever. Moe’s on the Go was a huge hit, and the extra income was helping to pay down the loan my parents had taken out for new kitchen equipment. I was enjoying more creative freedom with the menu, and best of all, my dad’s health was much better. He still hadn’t retired completely, but he exercised more, ate better, and took more time off. We’d hired another manager to give my mom some relief and gave longtime employees a nice raise. In the back of my mind, I had an idea for a cookbook, and Dash had encouraged me to see it through.


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