Falling in Love – Rockford Falls Romance Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)

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Falling in Love - Rockford Falls Romance

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Natasha L. Black

Book Information:

Everyone deserves second chances. But could you try again after having a heart so broken? I’m a successful mechanic with a good life. Now I’m acting like I lost my damn mind.
It’s scary how a piece of the past can do that to you. Running after her when she walks out on me, Kissing her breathless in the street. Lying awake thinking of her, Realizing my first love was the one that got away.
Correction, the one I pushed away. But as fate would have it, A bad storm leaves us stranded together. Who knew that a rekindled romance from high school. Could end up as what I want for the rest of my life?
But now she’s the one pushing me away. She won’t talk to me. She doesn’t trust me. It’s like losing her all over again.
This time, I won’t run away. This time I’m fighting for what’s always been mine.
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Natasha L. Black



I shut down the computers and powered down the printers and copy machines. Going through my mental checklist to close the library felt like tucking it into bed for the night. I loved my job, the books and the spacious, peaceful library I presided over. I cleared the papers off the circulation desk and filed them and looked over the interlibrary loans that were supposed to come in tomorrow on the truck. Nicole had teased me once, asking if I kissed the front door on its forehead and said good night. It was silly, but I did feel like this place was my baby in a way. It had been smaller with an outdated collection and very little taxpayer support when I took over from the retiring head librarian over ten years ago. I was proud of what I’d made of the place and of how the library was used by Rockford Falls residents of all ages now.

Usually I savored this peaceful time of day as I locked up at seven in the evening. Today, I was excited to get away because my friends Trixie and Nicole had managed to get free for a girls’ night, long overdue. Both of my besties had little kids, so it wasn’t easy for either of them to be away from their babies or convince a hardworking husband to watch the kiddo while they went out for margaritas. Still, I always said a girls’ night was good for the soul.

And so were margaritas, especially the big pitcher of them that I knew would be waiting on me. If I didn’t hurry, Trixie would have eaten most of the salsa before I got there. I had promised to meet them right at seven, and I’d planned to close ten minutes early if there were no patrons in the library, but Lauren’s mom came in to return her books and ask for a recommendation.

I parked in a hurry and rushed into the bar, ready to hug my friends and demand extra salsa. As I threw open the door and hurried in, I crashed right into someone. It felt like slamming into a sizeable brick wall, but it was only the insanely jacked, muscular chest of the one that got away.

Correction: the one that ran away.

It wasn’t enough that the first boy I gave my heart just broke it and announced he didn’t love me anymore. It wasn’t bad enough that he lived in the same town as me, so we were bound to see each other. Actual albeit accidental physical contact with the man short circuited all my sense and my brain started whirling like an emergency siren, all flashes of light and chaos.

“Sorry,” I muttered, staggering back from the impact.

He caught my arm.

“You okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice. I was close enough I could see his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed. I swallowed hard in response, feeling something like tears burning in my throat.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“I saw Trixie and Nicole, so I figured you might be coming in. Running late? That doesn’t sound like you,” he said.

“I got hung up at the library helping Mrs. Vance find a book. So I may have been hurrying to get in here and I didn’t look where I was going,” I said, trying to sound light, trying to ignore the fact that he’d noticed my friends and expected me be there, that he remembered I was always early or on time. He’d always paid attention to details.

“Where you headed off to?” I asked politely, noting the big carryout bag he held.

“Just heading home to have something to eat. I didn’t feel like being in a crowd tonight. Long day,” he shrugged.

“When did you ever feel like being in a crowd?” I teased, falling so painfully easily into familiarity with Drew, referencing things that were true half a lifetime ago. “Or maybe that’s changed. Maybe you love crowds of people now.” I hedged.

“No. I wouldn’t say much has changed at all,” he said.

His dark, dark eyes so intense—that look I knew all too well. It bore into me like he could see everything. My job and cats and houseplants and the fact I hadn’t been on a date in five months, and I spent my nights reading the newest romance novel releases before they ever hit the library shelves. I wanted to hide from him for some reason. I was proud of my job and loved my life and my friends and my kitties. I didn’t need a man to complete me, and I sure as hell didn’t need Drew Casey.

Not much has changed, my ass.

I felt the flutter of my pulse, disappointed in myself for being vulnerable to the thrum of attraction I still felt when Drew was in a twenty-mile radius of me. It was embarrassing to be so susceptible to his particular charm. The sharp planes of his face, the high cheekbones, the long straight nose—all of it a testament to the native blood on his mother’s side. He looked so different from the blonde and redheaded kids in school with us, but my eyes were always drawn to him, a standard of human beauty that was unlike the other plain faces around us. If I remembered the way his darker brown fingers had looked laced together with mine, if I remembered when he wore his hair long and it brushed against my face while he moved above me, maybe I could be forgiven for being sentimental about that.