Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗
- Author: Agnes Canestri
Book online «Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗». Author Agnes Canestri
Ellie studies the vase, and to my relief, she nods and pulls out the chair. “That’s a pretty table. We’ll be happy to test drive it for you. You can even serve our ice in glass bowls instead of cones.”
“No,” I cry out.
Ellie’s eyes drift to me, and I shake my head. “Let’s not give Monica more work than she already has, no?”
Monica rolls her eyes. “Oh, yes, I’d hate washing two bowls.”
Her theatrical accent is so apparent, I think Ellie will see through us, but she doesn’t. She just shrugs and says, “Yes, sorry, I didn’t think of that. Then just give us our usual, please.”
While Monica disappears to prepare for what might be the most memorable moment of my life, Ellie hops down on the chair and leans back with a sigh. “Ah, it’s a great idea from Monica’s boss. My feet are hurting.”
“How was today?” I ask.
“Good, but tiring.” She smiles at me. “That lady I’m coaching now, to come to terms with her divorce resentment, made a tremendous breakthrough today.”
I lean forward and caress her cheek. “Of course, you’re an amazing therapist. I’m living proof of that.”
Her eyes illuminate. “You were also a pretty exceptional client.”
“Because I was your first.” I wink.
She giggles. “Yeah, that might have something to do with it, too. Anyway, it wasn’t even the therapy session that drained me, but my babysitting duty.”
My eyes widen. “Don’t tell me your boss left you Frank Jr. again?”
Ellie gives me a ‘What do you think?’ look. “I believe it’s the price she makes me pay for granting me an office and a promotion in the same year.” She lifts her shoulders. “I don’t mind it, though. That baby is cute, even if entertaining him with my office’s scarce supplies sucks out all my energy.”
“I bet if we had kids, they would be even cuter.”
Ellie’s glance darts to me. “Wyatt Harrison, is there a special meaning behind these words?”
My revealing phrase was out before I had time to bite my lips together.
Since I don’t want Ellie to know how much I ponder our potential family—it’ll ruin my surprise—I shrug with a coy smile. “Who knows?”
As if organized by magic, Monica appears with our neon-green cones.
I hope she knows which one is Ellie’s because to me they look identical.
The sight of her favorite treat distracts Ellie, and she forgets to press me further on my slip.
She takes the ice cream from Monica with a bright smile.
The waitress winks at me before returning to the shop. A little jingle lingers in the air after the door closes behind her.
“Mhmm, it’s even better than usual,” Ellie moans while she licks her cone, her eyes focused on her turning fingers.
It’s possible that Monica gave an extra boost to Ellie’s favorite flavor because it’s creamier and spicier than I remember. Even if I don’t really revel in its taste, I slurp the cream with avid gulps so my hands will be free before Ellie gets to the hidden layer of her cone.
After I finished my treat, I watch Ellie bite her cone down with small symmetrical incisions.
At a certain point, she exclaims. “What’s this?”
My heart jumps.
This is my moment.
I bend forward, but the smile freezes as I see Ellie’s lips settle into a sour grimace instead of an expression of delight.
“Was yours like this too?” Before I can answer, she shakes her head. “If Monica’s boss is trying to save on the amount of ice cream in order to have enough money to build his terrace, I don’t approve.”
She shoves the cone toward me, and I blink at a circular piece of biscuit that closes off two-thirds of her cornet.
I can’t suppress my chuckle.
I’d thought she’d seen my ring and didn’t like it.
“Why are you laughing?” she huffs. “Customers come here for the ice cream. It’s wrong to cheat them like this. In fact, you know what I’ll do? I’ll throw this away.” She stands up to walk to the pink trash can located beside the store’s entrance.
“No, Ellie.” I grab her wrist. “You can’t. It’s a perfectly good waffle. Eat it.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “It tastes like nothing without the cream. Also, I need to make a statement against Monica’s boss—”
I reach up and put a finger on her lips. “Ellie, at least eat that biscuit first. Please.”
Ellie’s eyes widen. She sinks back to her chair without further protest and sticks two fingers into her cone to angle out the biscuit. She can’t get a hold of it, so she turns her cone upside down and gives it a vehement shake.
A gasp escapes her throat.
First, I think her bewilderment is because of the large green stain that now decorates her striped summer dress. But when I see her lifting my grandmother’s ring from below the biscuit, my heart flutters.
I was torn between buying a new ring or accepting my father’s suggestion to use his mother’s ring.
But when I saw the simple gold band with its single drop-shaped diamond and heard my father’s explanation about the ring’s symbolism—a way to rekindle with the past for a merrier future—I made my decision.
Will Ellie like it too?
Ellie slowly raises her chin, and her eyes meet mine. Her mouth opens then closes.
I smile at her and nod. “This is what you think it is. I know it’s soon, but it’s also late. If I’m honest, I wanted to ask you to become my wife the day I saw you run across the field after the Cougars’ game.”
Ellie is still staring at me, speechless.
I jump up and kneel beside her chair, putting my arms on her lap and cupping her hands with my own. “It’s my grandmother’s ring, but if you don’t like it, we can change it. Also, we can wait for the actual wedding, as much as you want. I know you just got the promotion, so I don’t want to pressure
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