Under the Radar (Reynold’s Restorations #4) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reynold's Restorations Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
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Then I saw his ad.

And now I was living with him.

And I really hoped to get to know him more. To get a chance to erase that sadness.

Why it was so important, I didn’t want to dive into. At least not yet.

Maybe one day soon.

Chase walked in, carrying a bag. He frowned when he saw me lifting a box.

“What are you doing?” he asked, hurrying over and taking the box from my arms. “I said I’d do that tonight.”

I laughed, taking back the box. “Chase, I packed them and put them in the storage unit all on my own. I’m used to doing it by myself.”

He shook his head and set down the bag he was carrying. “But you don’t have to anymore. I’m here.” He tugged the box out of my hands.

I gave up. “Fine. It goes in the kitchen.”

He nudged the bag on the floor. “So does that. I brought Chinese.”

“Oh my God, you are spoiling me. Stop it.”

He shrugged, grinning as I picked up the bag. I followed him to the kitchen.

“Get your room done?”

“Yes. Maybe you can help me move my bed tomorrow when I get back from work?”

“What is your shift?”

I grabbed plates from the cupboard as Chase set out the food. “Three days on, four off. Then four on, three off. Six to four. I was lucky and got the day shift.”

He nodded. “Nights must be hard.”

“They were in Toronto,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t shake as a memory swept through me.

He placed his hand over mine. “Sorry, Hannah. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked down, realizing my hand was trembling. My whole body was. Simply mentioning Toronto upset me. I sighed. I had thought it would stop once I left the city—obviously, I was wrong.

Chase leaned across the table and slid a finger under my chin, and I met his gaze. He looked upset, his eyes worried. “Are you okay, Cinnamon?”

I clutched his wrist, drawing in a shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry. I obviously brought up something painful.”

I blinked at the wetness in my eyes. Before I could say anything, he stood, pulling me up with him and wrapping me in his arms.

“I’m here, Hannah. Everything is okay.”

I let him hold me. I drew strength from his solid form, his tight embrace. He smelled good. Clean and masculine, the hint of fresh-cut grass lingering. I stepped back and blinked, desperate to change the subject. “Did you shower before coming home?”

He chuckled and sat. “I had to. I was helping install a newly reupholstered interior on a car Maxx is restoring. I was covered in sweat and grease.” He smiled at me, his voice low and tender. “Okay to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“You work in the office and the garage?” I asked.

He nodded around a mouthful of egg roll, swallowing before he spoke. “I enjoy designing custom interiors. I’ve been taking courses, and Maxx lets me play.”

“Do you have any pictures?”

With a grin, he showed me his phone, and I scrolled through the images. “Chase, these are gorgeous.”

He looked bashful, color flooding the tips of his ears. “Thanks. I like it.”

“I love it. You’re so talented.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. We ate and put away the food. “Dinner tomorrow is on me.”

“You will have worked all day.”

“You too,” I pointed out. “If I was on my own, I would cook, so it’s no big deal, Chase. Anything you hate?”

He made a face. “Liver and brussels sprouts. Salmon.”

“I can relate to both.” I nodded in sympathy. “Not a fan.”

He shuddered. “I agree.”

“If it’s nice, we could barbecue. I saw you had a grill.”

“Oh yeah. I’m good at grilling.”

“Then I’ll pick up something easy. Next week, we can figure out a plan going forward.”

“Sounds good.”

After dinner, Chase moved some boxes, his muscles flexing, showing off his tattoos.

“I like your ink,” I said without thinking.

He grinned. “Yeah? Thanks.”

“Is it, ah, all over…I mean, just on your arms?”

He pulled up his sleeve. “Both go to my shoulder. Stefano drew them for me. He’s really talented. He does a lot of the custom work at the garage. I told him what I was thinking, and he came up with these.”

“They are incredible.”

“Incredibly sexy,” I added in my head. I reached for a box, and he stopped me, chastising me sweetly over dragging my bed into my room when I got home from work. “Stop with the heavy lifting,” he ordered. “I’ll do it. You take a little one.”

I tried not to laugh at him. I was used to doing things on my own. I had to admit it was nice to have someone worrying about me, though.

I carried a couple of lighter boxes to my room, deciding to leave the furniture until the next day. The walls would be dry enough then; I could position it all the way I wanted.


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