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Signed, Sealed, Delivered: A Contemporary Romance

Signed, Sealed, Delivered: A Contemporary Romance

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Signed, Sealed, Delivered: A Contemporary Romance

Bewertungen:
4/5 (17 Bewertungen)
Länge:
63 Seiten
59 Minuten
Freigegeben:
Jun 16, 2020
ISBN:
9781094411309
Format:
Buch

Beschreibung

How do you tell your crush that their secret admirer is… you? As a teen Gabriella had a turbulent life, and was always finding herself in and out of trouble. Now, as an adult, she’s finally on her feet, and comfortably settled into a steady life as a postal worker. Delivering mail allows her to daydream, concocting dramatic romantic scenarios for everyone on her route. Finding romance in the real world, however, has always been a problem. One day Gabi discovers that the abandoned house along her route has a new owner — a very hot new owner — and with just one look, she’s instantly smitten. Watching the object of her daydream desires renovate the fixer-upper becomes her favorite part of the day… if only she could get up the courage to talk to him. Soon what begins as a passing flirtation becomes an all-consuming crush, and on a whim, Gabi decides to send out an anonymous letter of her own. But when fate throws a wrench in her plans, Gabi has to decide if she needs to take her secret-admirer letters to the next level, or say goodbye to her dream guy for good.

Freigegeben:
Jun 16, 2020
ISBN:
9781094411309
Format:
Buch

Über den Autor

Wendy Dalrymple crafts highly consumable, short and sweet romances inspired by everyday people. When she’s not writing happily-ever-afters, you can find her camping with her family, painting (bad) wall art, and trying to grow as many pineapples as possible. Keep up with Wendy at www.wendydalrymple.com!

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Signed, Sealed, Delivered - Wendy Dalrymple

bryantstreetshorts@scribd.com.

Chapter One

Gabriella Gonzalez stared at the road ahead, allowing herself to become momentarily hypnotized by the freshly paved charcoal-colored asphalt. The street shimmered like a watery mirage in the late-afternoon sun, causing her to wonder if she was seeing things, if she was too tired or finally going crazy. Some days her self-induced haze put her in the mindset of a huntress on safari, tracking down her prey. Other days she was a desert priestess, enduring the heat while still retaining her regal beauty. Most days she was simply Gabi.

This was the part of the day that Gabi hated the most. Her mass of thick dark hair was beginning to frizz in the humidity despite being secured in a braid, and she was almost certain that the winged eyeliner she had carefully applied that morning was now nonexistent. After lunchtime, delivering mail in the midday Florida summer sun was nothing short of grueling, and she was beginning to lose steam. Try as she might, on days as miserable as this, it was too hot and uncomfortable to indulge in daydreams and fantasies. Gabi gave up trying to imagine that she was a goddess of the tropics and snapped herself out of her dramatic distraction. Her navy work shorts and the back of her blue button-down shirt were damp with sweat, and all she wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and curl up on the couch.

But first she had to finish her mail route.

For the most part, Gabi enjoyed her job, though if she could go back in time, her fourteen-year-old self would have laughed at the notion of becoming a postal worker. She found that once she’d gotten the hang of it, delivering mail was mostly automatic, and the benefits, security, and pay were far better than working retail. Gabi liked the fact that she was performing a duty that was necessary to society, and it allowed her the opportunity to let her mind drift and dream here and there. She would never tell anyone, but one of her favorite aspects of the job was that it allowed her to indulge in an innocent amount of voyeurism from a safe distance.

Take, for example, the Martel family at 422 Jacaranda Way. Gabi knew that Mrs. Cheyanne Martel would receive multiple credit-card statements every month in thick envelopes, along with lingerie catalogs, an issue of Cosmopolitan, and multiple small, soft packages. Mr. Dennis Martel, on the other hand, always received their mortgage and all of their utility bills in his name alone, as well as catalogs for guns and ammo, cigars, and hardware — and, of all things, a yearly renewal reminder for the American Birding Association. The few stolen glances she’d gotten of Mr. and Mrs. Martel coming in and out of their home showed a couple so completely opposite one another that Gabi couldn’t help but imagine that they must live separate, sordid lives.

Next door to the Martels was Mrs. Dorothy Horn, a widow in her mid to late eighties. Mrs. Horn would receive a number of catalogs every month featuring comfortable housecoats and medical devices, letters from AARP and the Red Cross, and a Social Security check, as well as the occasional handwritten greeting card in flowery, elegant script from one Eleanor Machowski. Along with an impressive collection of plastic animal yard ornaments, Mrs. Horn also had a Christmas tree on display in her front bay window year-round. Gabi often enjoyed picturing Mrs. Horn sitting in a comfortable chair in her 1970s-style living room, basking in the glow of soft white lights and artificial pine boughs and watching holiday movies, even in the middle of summer.

Down the road from the Martels and Mrs. Horn was a sprawling ranch-style house inhabited by the Delgado family. Their home was one of Gabi’s favorite places to stop on her route, and she often imagined herself in a house like theirs, full of family and noise and love. Luis and Leanna Delgado’s eldest son, Luis Jr., had been accepted to Florida State that spring, and Gabi had felt her chest swell with pride the day she delivered his acceptance letter. The Delgado children ran out to stop and talk to her a few times a week, and she had enjoyed watching them grow for the last five years. Gabi even took it upon herself to help deliver and respond to their letters to Santa, something that quickly became hotly requested from the other families in the neighborhood.

The road to becoming a postal worker hadn’t been easy for Gabi, and she counted her lucky stars that the trouble she’d gotten into as a teen hadn’t followed her into her adult life. Even though Gabi

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3.9
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  • (2/5)
    Wasn’t a big fan, I get daydreaming and all but a grown adult pretending he was a teenage mutant ninja turtle while in prison? Was he ten? The story seemed immature to me.