Run Posy Run by Cate C. Wells EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Cate C. Wells
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
POSY
Today is a great day. It’s finally stopped raining, the daffodils are
blooming, and the town car is in the drive. Butterflies swoop to life
in my belly.
I guess Dario’s meeting didn’t last as long as he thought it would. I’m
gonna make him steaks for dinner. I’ll light a few candles. Wear the red
dress with the slit up the side. Maybe he’ll take out the pale blue box I
found in his sock drawer when I was rummaging for a pair of wool socks to
thaw my frozen feet.
Is he going to get down on one knee? I can’t imagine Dario Volpe ever
doing that, even to propose. He probably won’t ask at all. He’ll drawl
“marry me” while compelling me with his dark, hooded eyes.
Tingles skate over my skin. Dario’s a throwback, but damn, he does it
for me.
I can’t wipe away my cheesy grin. Lord knows I’ve kissed a lot of frogs.
I’m due a prince.
I skip up the polished marble stairs, swinging my shopping bags, and
magically, exactly when I reach the top, Ray opens the front door.
“Perfect timing,” I sing, sailing past him.
I want to get a shower before I find my man and ask him about the
steaks. My hair’s in a messy bun, and I’m not wearing my face. Dario’s
second generation, but he thinks like my grandparents—you don’t leave the
house looking less than your best. He’s a bespoke suit, not a tracksuit kind
of guy.
I’m a few steps in when Ray wraps his hand around my upper arm in a
punishing grip, jerking me to a halt. I raise my eyebrows at my boyfriend’s
driver. That’s Ray’s official job. He drives like an old lady, though, and he
spends most of his time skulking around the house. I don’t question it. I was
born and raised in a connected family. My lack of curiosity is genetic.
“He wants you in his office,” Ray says, his craggy face blank and his
voice gruff. Ray’s never friendly, but this is different. Not good.
My stomach plummets.
“What’s wrong? Is Dario okay?”
Has he been hurt? It’s always a possibility. Dario’s a money man, but
even money men can catch lead.
“He’s fine. Come on.” Ray’s already propelling me through the
cavernous front hall with the crystal chandelier and the marble floors that
shine like glass.
“Are you sure?” He’s scaring me. His grip is too tight—as if he thinks I
might bolt.
“Don’t worry about Dario.” Ray won’t look at me, and the way he says
it implies that I should be worried. Maybe for myself. I didn’t do anything,
though.
I am not the kind of Catholic with the guilt. My dad’s side of the family
tried their best to teach me shame and how to be a “good Italian woman,”
but Mom hated being nothing but a wife and mother. She never had the
balls to help herself, but she did her best to break the cycle. She snuck me a
copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves when I was thirteen, and when we were
supposed to be going to confession, she’d take me to the park so I could
play chess.
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