Ship of Dreams (Dreams Come True Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

He’d seen the same gleam, the same energy in his own eyes, as he saw in his mother’s. He could hear his grandmother’s frequent admonition, “Always do the right thing, no matter how hard it is.”
    And, dammit, he’d made the right choices, even when they were hard. Sighing, he put the photos back in the envelope. His unplanned trip down memory lane had left him drained. The unpacking and packing would wait until tomorrow.
    On top of everything else she had to do before she left for the cruise, Laura had the bright idea to welcome Darcy and Josh home with a small surprise party. What had she been thinking?
    So on Friday evening, she called Darcy’s house phone, hoping Millie was there to let the caterers in. “Ryan residence.”
    “Did they promote you to housekeeper?”
    “Cruella, is that you?”
    “Funny.” Laura beeped at the taxi in front of her as soon as the light turned green. “I’m on my way.”
    “Thanks for the warning.”
    “Did you let the caterers in?”
    Millie released a long-suffering sigh. “No. I left them standing on the stoop with trays of food in their hands. Of course I let them in.”
    “Don’t mess with me, Millie. You know I can take you.”
    “Maybe, but I’d still be smarter than you.”
    Laura practically heard the smirk through the phone, but chose to ignore Millie’s dig. “Did Mark and Chris get the banner hung?”
    “Yes, your ladyship.”
    “Champagne chilling?”
    “Yes, Your Ladyship. And I polished the silver, scrubbed the floors, cleaned the windows—”
    “Okay, I get it.” Laura rolled her eyes. “Thanks for taking care of everything.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “I’ll be there shortly, if this—” she blew her horn again “—police car would get out of my way.”
    “You’re blowing your horn at a policeman?”
    “Well, he’s in the way.”
    “God forbid. Goodbye, Cruella.”
    Laura had ordered trays of tapas for the guests, and an elegant dinner for Darcy and Josh to enjoy after everyone left. They’d been traveling most of the day and would be exhausted, so Laura thought she’d extend the honeymoon by one more evening with a romantic dinner for two—after the initial surprise. She’d also arranged to have staple food items in the kitchen so that they could spend a leisurely morning in bed.
    Finding a parking space around the corner from Darcy’s—and now Josh’s—Park Slope brownstone, Laura pulled her red Fiat 500 into it, and reaching across the seat grabbed the bouquet of white roses her assistant had ordered for the occasion. She glanced at her watch. She’d made it by the skin of her teeth.
    Letting herself in with her key, she called out, “I’m here.”
    “I’ll alert the media,” Millie said as she stepped out of the living room. Dressed from head-to-toe in her usual dingy brown, Millie looked every bit the unkind ‘Mousey Millie’ nickname Mark and Chris had given her. From her Marian-the-Librarian bun to her sensible shoes, and everything in-between, Millie was a study in browns.
    “The cast of The Grapes of Wrath called. They want their wardrobe back.”
    Millie glanced down at her clothes, her brow furrowed. “What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
    In direct contradiction to her appearance, Millie had this voice. A voice that called to mind a dimly lit boudoir, the sensual strains of Ravel’s “Boléro,” and red lace lingerie. Pfft. Listen to me, Laura thought, I’m starting to sound like one of Darcy’s steamy romance novels.
    “One of these days, Millie. So help me, one of these days,” Laura said, referencing her multiple threats to stage a What-Not-To-Wear intervention. “Where’s everyone else?”
    “In the kitchen.”
    “Put these in water.” Laura handed the bouquet to Millie.
    “Yes, Your Ladyship.”
    After giving the living room a quick once-over and seeing the trays of food were properly displayed, the champagne nestled in the ice bucket, and the ‘Welcome Home’ banner