Read Online Running From Fate by Rose Connelly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rose Connelly
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the door with her new key and stepped into the house, Mira took a deep breath and smiled. This area was her favorite part of the place and it was the re ason she had signed so quickly.
The living room and the eat-in kitchen were both in one, big open area, divided only by the long sweep of a beautiful marble counter. The space was furth er enhanced by vaulted ceilings, t all windows , and an upstairs balcony overlooking it all.
To the right, a gorgeous flagstone patio came off the living room. It could be accessed from the main area, through a set of sliding doors , or from the third bedroom, which was off to the right down a short hall.
Thinking through possible color schemes, Mira crossed the living room and headed for the pat io doors. She hadn’t really explored the outside yet and wanted a quick look around . Perhaps nature could give her some inspiration and, h opefully, she would discover that there was room for a small garden. She had ne ver had the time for one before but , she promised herself, she would make the time now. There had to be more than just work in her life. A loud thump sounded , interrupting Mira’s thought s . She sighed and, turning around, retraced her steps to the front door.
Outside, two men were trying to maneuver a queen bed from the back of a pickup truck. The men made an odd pair. One of them was of medium height, slim, and kind of good looking if a bit starched in his wrinkled dress shirt and slacks. The other man was short and stocky with a thick beard, scruffy hair and work pants. They had one thing in common, however — Lily Parsons.
She and Lily had been running late by the time they got to the furniture store and had been told that the earliest anything could be delivered was tomorrow. Mira wouldn’t really have minded sleeping on the floor for a night, but Lily had insisted on a bed. The salesman had been so enamored by Lily’s blond , leggy beauty that he had been ready to carry the bed on his back. Thankfully, his back had been saved by the entrance of a construction worker with a pickup truck. Lily had batted her long lashes and sweetly asked for help. He had been putty in her hands.
Now the salesman and the construction worker were trying to bring in some of her furniture. The problem was they couldn’t keep their eyes off of Lily and on the ir work. The thump had been her bed frame, made of a beautiful, light ash , hitting the side of the truck. If she wanted whole furniture instead of a handful of splinters she had better intervene.
“Lily,” she called. “Perhaps you should come inside now. You would n’t want to burn your d elicate skin .” The truth was that, thanks to her Italian ancestry, Lily rarely burned and, in fact, with the sun lighting up her hair and bringing a flush to her cheeks, she looked vibrant. The men, however, immediately rushed to agree .
“You should go inside soon, Ms. Lily, we wouldn’t want you to get a burn,” the short one said.
“Certainly not,” the salesman echoed. “Go in and rest. We’ll do fine without you.” He was now panting with effort, but he seemed determined.
“Why thank you gentlemen. You’re being so kind,” she said the in slow, sweet voice that was her best imitation of a Southern belle. “I’ll do that right now.” She sent both of them a wink that almost caused them to drop the bed again and , with a swish of her white sundress, sauntered inside.
With Lily out of the way, t hings moved more quickly and Mira soon had a bed, a lipstick red sofa, and one coffee table set up i n her new home. She thanked the men profusely for their help and determinedly steered them out. With the door firmly shut she flopped down on the sofa and closed her eyes.
“Are they gone?” Lily asked. Her voice came from somewhere at the back of the kitchen.
“Yes they are. No thanks to you. I had to practically pry them out of here.”
Lily walked out of the kitchen with a bottle in one hand and two plastic cups in the
The living room and the eat-in kitchen were both in one, big open area, divided only by the long sweep of a beautiful marble counter. The space was furth er enhanced by vaulted ceilings, t all windows , and an upstairs balcony overlooking it all.
To the right, a gorgeous flagstone patio came off the living room. It could be accessed from the main area, through a set of sliding doors , or from the third bedroom, which was off to the right down a short hall.
Thinking through possible color schemes, Mira crossed the living room and headed for the pat io doors. She hadn’t really explored the outside yet and wanted a quick look around . Perhaps nature could give her some inspiration and, h opefully, she would discover that there was room for a small garden. She had ne ver had the time for one before but , she promised herself, she would make the time now. There had to be more than just work in her life. A loud thump sounded , interrupting Mira’s thought s . She sighed and, turning around, retraced her steps to the front door.
Outside, two men were trying to maneuver a queen bed from the back of a pickup truck. The men made an odd pair. One of them was of medium height, slim, and kind of good looking if a bit starched in his wrinkled dress shirt and slacks. The other man was short and stocky with a thick beard, scruffy hair and work pants. They had one thing in common, however — Lily Parsons.
She and Lily had been running late by the time they got to the furniture store and had been told that the earliest anything could be delivered was tomorrow. Mira wouldn’t really have minded sleeping on the floor for a night, but Lily had insisted on a bed. The salesman had been so enamored by Lily’s blond , leggy beauty that he had been ready to carry the bed on his back. Thankfully, his back had been saved by the entrance of a construction worker with a pickup truck. Lily had batted her long lashes and sweetly asked for help. He had been putty in her hands.
Now the salesman and the construction worker were trying to bring in some of her furniture. The problem was they couldn’t keep their eyes off of Lily and on the ir work. The thump had been her bed frame, made of a beautiful, light ash , hitting the side of the truck. If she wanted whole furniture instead of a handful of splinters she had better intervene.
“Lily,” she called. “Perhaps you should come inside now. You would n’t want to burn your d elicate skin .” The truth was that, thanks to her Italian ancestry, Lily rarely burned and, in fact, with the sun lighting up her hair and bringing a flush to her cheeks, she looked vibrant. The men, however, immediately rushed to agree .
“You should go inside soon, Ms. Lily, we wouldn’t want you to get a burn,” the short one said.
“Certainly not,” the salesman echoed. “Go in and rest. We’ll do fine without you.” He was now panting with effort, but he seemed determined.
“Why thank you gentlemen. You’re being so kind,” she said the in slow, sweet voice that was her best imitation of a Southern belle. “I’ll do that right now.” She sent both of them a wink that almost caused them to drop the bed again and , with a swish of her white sundress, sauntered inside.
With Lily out of the way, t hings moved more quickly and Mira soon had a bed, a lipstick red sofa, and one coffee table set up i n her new home. She thanked the men profusely for their help and determinedly steered them out. With the door firmly shut she flopped down on the sofa and closed her eyes.
“Are they gone?” Lily asked. Her voice came from somewhere at the back of the kitchen.
“Yes they are. No thanks to you. I had to practically pry them out of here.”
Lily walked out of the kitchen with a bottle in one hand and two plastic cups in the
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