Slap Shot Surprise (Cherry Tree Harbor #5) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
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Above the soothing swell of the music, I heard the captain make announcements about the flight time (one hour and eleven minutes), the weather in Traverse City (clear and sixty-seven degrees), and the expectation for a bumpy ride getting out of Chicago (he was sorry).

As the plane gathered speed, I said a quick prayer, turned up the volume, and tried to remember to breathe.

The turbulence started within minutes.

Takeoff had been bad enough, the entire plane shuddering like it was made of plastic and might split apart, but things only got worse once we were up in the air. The plane lurched and groaned and shook so badly my teeth rattled. The cabin was roaring with scary noises. I gave up on my relaxing music and shoved my earbuds and phone back into my bag. Pressing my back into my seat, I gripped the armrests. My heart was beating way too fast, and I felt like someone was sitting on my chest. I couldn’t get enough air. Was I underwater?

Other people started to freak out too. Overhead bins fell open, and bags tumbled down. A woman screamed, and a baby began to cry. The aircraft dropped, and I yelped, certain we’d fallen a thousand feet and were heading for the ground.

I felt a cool, heavy hand on my white knuckles. “Hey. It’s okay.”

My eyes flew open and I looked at my hot seatmate. “I don’t want to die,” I whimpered.

“You’re not going to die.” He kept his voice calm and his palm over my fingers.

“I am, I am.” I shook my head wildly. “I didn’t pay attention to the safety lecture and I don’t know where my exit row is and my seat cushion doesn’t seem like enough of a flotation device to save me.” I looked up. “Where are the oxygen masks? They should have dropped by now! Everything is malfunctioning!”

“Everything is going to be okay.”

“It’s not. Human beings are not meant to be in the air. We are ground-dwelling creatures. And now the gods are punishing us for our hubris.”

He stroked my hand. “What’s your name?”

“Mabel Jane Buckley.”

He tried not to smile, which resulted in a crooked half grin. “Mabel Jane Buckley, my name is Joe Lupo. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I squeaked, my throat tight with panic. “I wish we didn’t have to die so soon after getting acquainted.”

“We’re not going to die.” But at that moment, the plane dropped sharply again, causing more people to scream.

“We are, we are,” I moaned, unable to stop my brain from careening toward catastrophe. “And it’s not fair. You’re too hot to die like this, and I just bought a house. I have a cat. Who’s going to feed Cleopatra when I’m gone?”

“You’re not going anywhere. You’ll feed her yourself.”

“Oh God, I lived such a sheltered life. I’m way too practical. I never splurged on designer shoes or a nice purse or a new car. I don’t even know what a new car smells like!”

“Shhh.” He kept moving his hand over mine. “You’ll have all those things someday.”

“And there’s so much I didn’t get to do,” I wailed. “I never got married. I never had kids. I never had a crazy one-night stand with a hot stranger!”

“I’m definitely not your guy for A or B, but C isn’t necessarily off the table,” he said, cracking a smile.

“You don’t understand, I haven’t even had good sex!”

“Now if ever there was a reason to live . . .”

“I’m serious.” Wild-eyed and hyperventilating, I stared him in the face. “I’ve never even had an orgasm with a guy. I’ve been faking it for years.”

That one stumped him.

“I haven’t even had that many boyfriends. And the ones I had just . . . couldn’t figure it out.”

“That’s—that’s, um—” Joe struggled for words and shook his head, like the concept was entirely foreign.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, you know?” Now I was rocking back and forth, words gushing out of me like water over Niagara Falls. “I tend to date guys who just aren’t that exciting or talented in bed—like they have the right equipment and all, but they’re not sure how to use it.”

He smiled. “Like the shot’s all lined up, but they can’t put the puck in the net?”

“Exactly! And I thought I’d have more time to remedy that. I’m only thirty! I thought there would be more pucks! Better pucks!”

“You’ve got plenty of time,” he assured me.

“I don’t, I don’t,” I howled, squeezing my eyes shut. “This is it. My life is flashing in front of my eyes. I’m going to die right here in this seat without ever experiencing a good puck!”

And just like that, I realized the plane wasn’t shuddering anymore. The ride had smoothed out and the cabin was quiet. All around us, people were talking and laughing in relief.


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