Harbor Master (Sweet Cherry Cove Book 1) by Cassie Mint

Harbor Master (Sweet Cherry Cove Book 1) by Cassie Mint

Author:Cassie Mint [Mint, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cherry Publishing
Published: 2023-07-05T16:00:00+00:00


Six

Mac

Well, I can’t claim to be Mister Experienced in the matter, but a woman running to throw up after your first kiss—that can’t be good. And even worse, Cocoa won’t let me in the bathroom to hold her hair back. I give up knocking after ten long minutes, because I’ve always told myself: if she wants me gone, I’ll go.

The stairs rock beneath me as I head back downstairs. I’ve lived here for decades, but my cottage is suddenly all wrong, with crooked doorways and too-bright paint and sharp new corners of furniture to bounce off. Like walking through a fun-house.

What did I do wrong? Did I push her too fast? Freak her out?

She kissed me, right? I’m not remembering that wrong, scribbling over the real events with my own wishful thinking. Cocoa started it. Lord knows I’d never have laid a finger on her otherwise.

But maybe it wasn’t what she expected. Or maybe it didn’t feel good for her after all.

For me, it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Like sinking into a hot bath after a long, freezing day at sea, and feeling the prickles spread over my whole body, my nerves coming back to life.

“Shit.”

I’m lost in my own kitchen, staring at our half-made dinner like I’ve never seen a stir fry before. How do I switch the stove on? How do I hold a wooden spoon? My body takes over, fumbling through the motions, while my brain screams in the back of my skull.

What if I scared her off? What if she doesn’t want to stay here anymore?

What if she thinks I expect things from her? That if she doesn’t kiss me like that, I’ll make her leave?

My gut lurches. Now I feel sick. Have I given that impression? Christ, I’ve tried my hardest to hide this attraction, this constant gnawing need I feel around Cocoa, but it must’ve peeked through. She’s a smart girl. She must have sensed it.

“Shit,” I say again, flipping the stove off for the second time. I can’t eat like this, not with a hot ball of shame weighing down my gut, and Cocoa probably won’t be able to stomach it either. Guess we’re both on a buttered toast diet tonight.

I pack up the ingredients, methodical and dead inside. Maybe we can salvage this meal tomorrow.

If she’s still here tomorrow. If she ever wants to be near me again.

There’s a high-pitched ringing in my ears.

* * *

My cottage has always been my happy place. It’s quiet, calm, tucked away from the world. The sounds of the waves drift through the open windows, and every wooden beam in the ceiling, every door frame, is crusted with a fine layer of salt, no matter how often I clean.

This is where I hide myself away. This is where I stay sane, recovering from the nonstop nonsense of the outside world. Or it was, anyway.

Now it’s the tenth circle of hell.

When Cocoa finally comes out of the bathroom, she’s ashen. Silent.



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