Take Me Home by Dani Galliaro EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Author: Dani Galliaro
- Genre: Contemporary Romance
- Publish Date: May 15, 2023
- Size: 2 MB
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Avail for Download
- Price: Free
DARCY
I couldn’t believe I was actually back there.
Looking out over the pond from the guest bedroom balcony, my
mind traveled back to all the summers I’d spent working at my uncle’s
farm.
That morning, I’d plowed through the day’s chores, working from the
list pinned on the kitchen bulletin board in my uncle’s neat-yet-deteriorating
scrawl. The dogs seemed confused by me. The mix of ferals-turneddomestic, wandering strays, and irresistible pound rescues were still
snoozing on the porch when I headed out to feed them. They’d grown
accustomed to Uncle Bill’s slow starts and were thrown off by my up-andat-‘em attitude. I just hoped the half-feral ones would keep the actual wild
dogs and coyotes at bay.
Sleeping at the farm always gave me the creeps. I hated being all alone
out there. No cops, no neighbors to hear you scream. I’m not a gun girl, but
people came up the holler to do all sorts of unsavory things to where it
might help to have a gun.
Not all the activities people used the property for were terribly
unsavory. Some of it was just teenage hellion stuff, like riding fourwheelers up on the ridge or sneaking Bud Lights after a day at the pool or a
summer job. Occasionally, I’d found evidence of more sinister doings.
A
random shoe. A dropped-off deer carcass or ten courtesy of the state
highway patrol (why did they drop those there?). Meth-making remnants, or
at least that’s what I imagined all those weird jugs and fire pits were for.
Shit, maybe it was just people hunting or camping and my imagination was
just too active. I’d never really done too much illegal stuff. My idea of
trouble growing up was more like kissing boys in cars, trying (and failing)
to smoke pot, and underage drinking.
I was 29 that summer. After falling victim to the most recent round of
layoffs at my job, it didn’t make sense for me to keep paying big city rent
when I could go home, lick my wounds, and help Uncle Bill instead. If I
was honest with myself, working as a copywriter for an online bedding
retailer wasn’t exactly the most fulfilling or challenging work. I’d been
phoning it in for a while. I’d gotten comfortable and didn’t push myself to
want more.
Add that to my recent broken engagement and I really had no business
staying in Raleigh. Opportunity knocked and I didn’t have much choice but
to go home and make it happen.
I took a cooling sip of my lemonade, the little pulpy bits sticking in my
teeth. That centuries-old, freezer-burned can of Minute Maid from the back
of the freezer came out surprisingly well. The sharp tang of the drink
sharpened my mind like a splash of cold water to the face. I needed to focus
on what needed to happen in the next week, not figure out my whole life’s
journey after this sudden bottoming out of my life. Baby steps, not the big
picture.
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