Love Me Harder – Welcome to Cupids Cove Read Online M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 8560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 43(@200wpm)___ 34(@250wpm)___ 29(@300wpm)
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Dating is a social normality that I don’t like. More to the point, I don’t understand the relatively recent phenomenon of putting on whatever outfit makes you look less fat and parading around with a man you’d never marry. Whatever happened to the days of your parents arranging your marriage with some guy’s family? Two cows and some doubloons later, your life was set. I didn’t have to deal with this shit in Newark; I was invisible there. Is there a world where a man will come up to me and say, “you’re mine,” and I’m down with it? It could happen. Totally.

Sure, I don’t really need to work; Sean makes sure my bank account is quite full, but I really do like it. I know I’ll go insane without something to do. It’s late, and the house is quiet and dark. Flora should be asleep by now. She works at the town historian’s office and has to be up by seven-thirty. After locking the front door behind me, I check on my roommate. We’ve only known each other for two weeks, but she’s young. She moved out of her parent’s house and in with me when she answered the ad I put up in the general store. She’s like a little sister to me already. She’s sound asleep, but she’s not alone. Go, Flora.

“Flora!” I whisper-scream.

“Yeah?” she answers sleepily.

“Who the hell is this?” I ask, gesturing to the sleeping girl next to her.

“Amy. We were studying; we must have fallen asleep.” Flora is taking classes at the community college. She still thinks she lives at home or something. She tries to explain everything to me. I wasn’t upset that she had someone over, happier for her than anything else.

“Is that your mom?” Amy asks. Okay, that would be an easy assumption given the quickness in which Flora offered up an excuse.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I’m Danica. Flora’s roommate. It’s nice to meet you, Amy.”

“You too. I’m going to the bathroom,” she says, getting out of the bed.

“Down the hall, third door on the left,” Flora tells her.

“Got it.”

I make my way to my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. Stripping, I move into the bathroom and turn the shower on to the hottest temperature I can stand. After my shower, I crawl into bed, still naked. I stare at the ceiling for twenty minutes before giving up.

After sitting up, I turn my head toward the window. I could swear I just heard a twig snap. It’s probably just an animal, but I know that if I don’t go over there and check it out, I’ll freak out all night long.

Getting out of bed, I grab my robe and pull it on. I go over to the window and throw it open. Sticking my head out, I see nothing but darkness. As my eyes adjust, I see giant footprints in the snow. At least seven or eight from different times. The most recent of which is full of the not-yet-packed snow that’s coming down right now. Even though I don’t see anyone, I can feel their eyes on me in the darkness. I lick my lips because, despite the implied danger of the situation, it doesn’t feel sinister. Not at all. In fact, it feels more sinful than anything, really. Man, I need to go to church; I chastise myself after closing and locking the window. I promise myself that I will go to church tomorrow morning.

What could happen? It’s church.

My friend from work, Josh, recommended this church. It’s a picture-perfect brick-and-white non-denominational church just outside of town. I walk inside and move to the front pew. I know there’s a hierarchy to church seating, but I don’t give a damn about that. There’s no one sitting there. I sit down and use the church bulletin to fan myself. It gets hotter and hotter as the room fills with people. I can hear them greeting each other behind me, but I am rooted to my seat for some reason. It gets quiet as soon as the organist begins playing the first hymn. Then it happens, seemingly in slow motion. A door creaks open, and a man appears at the pulpit. My mouth dries up, and I sit up a little straighter. He’s gorgeous. His navy pinstripe three-piece suit looks stretched to the max as he adjusts his tie before clearing his throat.

“Good morning,” he says. His thick voice washes over me. If I weren’t sitting, I’d have fallen down.

“Good morning,” the congregation says in response.

Then his eyes fall on me. I can see his eyes widen, and his breath hitch for a split second before he regains his composure. What is that about?

“This morning’s service is about coveting what we should not want. It is in this covetousness that we learn about our desires and how to recognize them before we sin. This isn’t always possible but being aware can help. Luke chapter twelve verse fifteen tells us to take notice and beware of our greed. Life isn’t everlasting for us,” he begins his sermon, but all I can do I watch his throat work as he swallows and the way his hand whitens as he grips the pulpit tightly before releasing it. He does this several times throughout his twenty-minute sermon. His eyes never leave mine. I cling to every word he says as he imparts his knowledge on the subject of coveting what you can’t have.


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