Be Mine: Valentine Novellas to Warm The Heart

by Nicole Flockton

  Jess nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

  “Okay. Tonight. Norwood. Eight o’clock!” Tibby said as I hopped back off the bus.

  “Can do.”

  “Bring Mark and Ben if you want,” Tibby called past Jess.

  “I’ll ask them,” I promised, already knowing what they’d say to that.

  “Bye, Ryan!” Norah and Tibby yelled. The rest of the Our Lady’s bus all yelled it too and Jess laughed.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I called as the bus started pulling away.

  “Parting is such sweet sorrow!” she yelled back as she waved.

  “That’s my line!” I told her.

  I just saw her laughing before she was pulled into the bus.

  I ran my hand through my hair as I turned around with a huge huff.

  Applause and whoops erupted from the Prince Edward’s bus and I looked up, a crooked smile growing on my face. It was all cheers at my getting the girl. I’d never been less embarrassed by people witnessing my private shit. I was too ecstatic she’d said yes.

  “Romeo wins!” someone laughed.

  “Excuse me, I’m Juliet,” I replied as I curtseyed and the cheering amped up.

  “Back on the bus, Juliet,” Miss Johnson said with a wide smile. “The sooner we’re back in Adelaide, the sooner you can see your Romeo.”

  I grinned as I jogged back to the door.

  Miss Johnson stopped me before I climbed the stairs. “It’s good to see you smile again, Ryan.”

  I nodded. “Thanks Miss J.”

  “She must be a very special girl.”

  I shrugged. “She gets me.”

  Miss Johnson nodded. “The best kind.”

  She kicked her head inside and I jumped into the bus to more applause.

  “Yeah. Yeah,” I muttered ruefully, but obliged the high-fives on my way back to my seat.

  I dropped between Mark and Ben at the back of the bus and huffed a breath.

  “So…” Ben started.

  “So,” I replied.

  “Just fucking tell him,” Mark said.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Your Romeo’s already messaged you,” Ben said.

  The speed at which I grabbed my phone out of his hands deserved a medal. I should have been embarrassed. I wasn’t. I grinned as I read it and replied.

  “If she breaks your heart…” Ben said slowly.

  I huffed, “I know.”

  “You worried she might?”

  I nodded as we all sat back against our seats. “Terrified.”

  But I couldn’t wipe the smile of my face.

  About Elizabeth Stevens

  Writer. Reader. Perpetual student. From the Dwarf. Never caffeinated enough.

  Born in New Zealand to a Brit and an Australian, I am a writer from South Australia with a passion for all things storytelling. I love reading, writing, TV and movies, gaming, and spending time with family and friends. I am an avid fan of British comedy, superheroes, and SuperWhoLock. I have too many favourite books, but I fell in love with reading after finding Isobelle Carmody's 'Obernewtyn'. I am obsessed with all things mythological – my current focus being old-style Irish faeries.

  I have a Master of Arts (Writing), a Graduate Diploma in Research Methods (Creative Writing), a Master of Arts (Editing and Publishing), and am currently working towards my PhD (Editing and Publishing – Indie Book Marketing).

  As at the end of 2019, I have nineteen books published with Sleeping Dragon Books, for readers from Middle Grade to Adult ranging from adventure to romance. And many more are in the works.

  I live in Adelaide with my long-suffering husband, delirious dog, mad cat, four chickens who are scared of free-ranging, and a turtle with a penchant for sticking her head in her filter pipe.

  If you want to stay up to date with my books and ramblings, you can sign up to my newsletter here. You can find more about me and my books at my website and social media: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Wattpad, Goodreads, & Amazon

  Finding Oliver

  Wanika Fazekas

  Setting:

  Set in Western Australia and uses Australian English spelling

  Heat rating - one chilli - but also some swearing.

  1

  “Hi, I’m looking for something to get it up,” says my millionth customer.

  Well, he is the fifth person I have served today. Since Wendy decided to be sick today. I swear it feels like every other day that girl isn’t at work.

  Wait! Did he just ask for Viagra? “What!” I frown. Feeling somewhat confused. Or maybe it’s the lack of love in my love life.

  “Can I get something to boost my stamina up, please.” His eyebrow twitches upward. I look up at the mess on top off his head. Did he just get out of bed?

  “Um—something for stamina,” I mutter.

  I walk out from behind the counter and down the aisles. Being in pharmaceuticals has always given me joy, but lately I’ve needed adventure. After watching my younger sister Alison with her police officer husband, I feel a pang of jealousy that my marriage isn’t anywhere near that. Yes, I love Richard, but he has never touched me in public with love and affection, the way Cameron does Ali, and he hasn’t really looked at me since we first met eight years ago.

  I come to the section I’m looking for and pick up a few boxes.

  “We have two different types of Viagra. One is much stronger and will enhance your virility longer for your enjoyment. And—"

  The young man scratches his head looking somewhat bewildered. I have the sudden urge to reach out and run my hand through his honey coloured hair.

  His eyes narrow in on my name tag. “Jen-e-fur,” he says my name like it’s foreign. “I’m looking for something to boost my energy levels. Not Viagra,” he explains.

  “Oh my gosh,” my face flushes and I’m ready to go and hide out the back. “I’m so sorry,” I apologise. I take a deep breath to compose myself. Turning around I walk towards the sports section. “Follow me,” my hot and heavy voice said.

  We reach the right aisle and I point to the Berocca effervescent tablets. He picks up the box and examines it closely.

  “Will this get me up,” he smirks. “My energy levels, I mean,” his eyes twinkle with amusement. The earlier comment might have been a slip of the tongue, but this one just now sounded deliberate. My ears burn. Woah, has it gotten hot in here or is it just me?

  “Sure,” I try to say in a cool and calm manner, but this guy has turned my libido into mush. “Um … it has vitamin B and C, with added minerals too, you will feel energised,”

  Why did that just sound like a sex innuendo?

  I bite down on my lip to stop the groan escaping my mouth.

  Mr Messy Bed Hair just smiles. I walk back to the counter as fast as I can. This could end very dangerously.

  He places the contents on the counter, I scan it and ring up the amount.

  “That will be eleven dollars and fifty cents.” I say.

  He hands me a twenty dollar note. He then holds his hand out waiting for the change. I give him the correct amount. When my fingers touch his palm, I feel a zap of electricity and something inside of me ignites. He quickly pulls his hand away and I rub my hands together.

  He puts the change away in his pocket. I watch his nice backside walk out of the store. I imagine my hands running over the firm curve of them and watching the goose bumps arise on his skin. I chew on the end of my nail as I fantasise about Mr Messy Bed Hair.

  I really should be in marital bliss, but I’m not. Five years in and I’m not feeling how I should be feeling. Which is exactly what? I wouldn’t have a clue.

  I’ve only ever lived with Richard. And yeah, I’d had boyfriends before but nothing ever got serious enough until I met Richard.

  I walked out of work early because I was feeling too flustered to look other customers in the eye. So, I’m going home to have a very long shower. Richard will still be at work. Hospital hours are different to mine. The chemist is open f
rom seven in the morning until nine at night. Seven days a week. Lately, as much as I loved my job, I kind of hate it too. I need more in my life and I know that Richard wanted me to quit as soon as we were married, but I just couldn’t leave Jo behind. She’s the manager and head pharmacist.

  As I pull into the luxurious house that overlooks the Indian ocean. I feel another pang of regret. I never wanted this house. This…well, it’s not really a house, it’s too large and doesn’t have the homely feel. In the beginning I loved it and then it became too big for one person here at a time. It’s very rare that Richard and I are here at the same time.

  Is it any wonder I feel like I’m not really married, even though, obviously, I am? I mean, what’s the point of marriage if the other person is never around?

  Wait, scratch that. I notice his black BMW in the drive. I pull up at the bottom of the staircase.

  Walking in through the front door. I listen for any noises. Nothing. I slip off my navy-blue heels and walk around looking for my husband. The tiled flooring feels extra slippery underneath my knee-length stockings.

  I wander from room to room and he is nowhere to be seen. So, I take the stairs two at a time. Feeling a little anxious in this eerily quiet house. I don’t bother with the other rooms and head straight for the master bedroom.

  Upon opening the door. I find a blue heel, exactly like mine. Then another one. A white blouse and a skirt is lying on the floor. I walk further into the room and find a neon bra and a matching G string.

  Someone moans.

  My heart is beating fast like horses on the racing track.

  Then an “Oh Richard,” sounds even louder as I walk around the corner.

  I stop and my hand covers my mouth.

  Richard is very deeply inside of someone else—who isn’t me—his wife. He thrusts in and out. Lasting longer than he ever did with me. He leans down and kisses the wench.

  My voice has been ripped out from my throat. My mouth is too dry to even comprehend a word or even a sentence.

  They rollover and she rides him really hard. And he enjoys the view of her bouncing titties as she moves up and down his shaft.

  I recognise the blonde mass and the anchor tattoo on her left shoulder.

  “Wwh— Wendy,” I stammer.

  Both participants suddenly stop. Wendy rolls over to cover up.

  “It’s not what you think,” Richard says first.

  Oh, come on!

  I blink a few times, because it’s not every day you walk in on your hubby having sex with someone other than you.

  I place my hand on my chest and start to move towards the door.

  “Jenny, I’m sorry,” Wendy says. I ignore her and keep on walking.

  A hand grabs a hold of my wrist and turns me around to face my husband. Richard is a sturdy man. He always has been. He claimed he never had time to go to the gym. Now I know that’s a lie. How many more lies has he told?

  “How could you?” I yell. “With my assistant!” Tears stream down my face.

  “She means nothing to me,” his voice is soft and pleading.

  “Means nothing?” I yell back and then I slap him across the face. My hands don’t stop there, they beat on his chest. I go all-out and vent my angry rage on my soon to be ex-husband.

  “Oh my god,” Wendy says in the background, “I’m calling the cops, baby,”

  Wait, who is she calling the cops on? Me?

  Richard grabs a hold of my wrists, my knees buckle, and I collapse to the floor. I hold my head in my hands and let the tears flow down my face as I cry my broken heart out.

  Wendy calls the cops on me. Of course, she does.

  So here I am sitting in the back of a police cruiser. Guess who came to arrest me? My brother-in-law. Even though he said he won’t push for the charges that have been laid against me. The trifecta: Aggravated assault for one thing, a restraining order for another and a ‘move-on’ notice.

  “I— don’t know what came over me,” I shake my head. “Just seeing him, I mean actually seeing him screwing … Oh god,” I place my forehead in my hands. “I should’ve listened to Ali,” I say to Cameron. “Why didn’t I listen to her.” I mumble.

  “I’m sure you felt like you were doing the right thing.” Cameron responds.

  “What, beating my husband?” I screech.

  “No, the believing in him. Thinking that he would never cheat.” Officer Gibbs replies.

  “Ugh,” I groan.

  The police car pulls up into my parents’ driveway. Every parent’s worst nightmare is about to unfold. When the car comes to a stop, I cannot move. I don’t want to. Maybe they’re not home?

  “You’re not getting out, are you?” Officer Gibbs asks after a while. I shake my head.

  “Is there anywhere else we can take you? Maybe to Ali’s.” She suggests.

  I can’t see my sister. I don’t want to hear the ‘I told you so’ speech.

  I bite my lip and look out the window at my parents’ home. My old home. The one I grew up in. And then it hits me. I know where I should go.

  “Can you please take me to Palm Beach?” I say.

  “You’re not suicidal, are you?” Cameron asks.

  The concern in his voice leaves a lump in my throat. I cough. “No, um— Jo, my boss, lives across from the beach on the esplanade,” I explain.

  Jo lives in a newly designed and built apartment on the Esplanade. She shares the apartment with her hippy boyfriend and one-year-old daughter. She likes it here because the chemist where I work is within walking distance and the shops are close at hand too.

  When they reach Palm Beach, I climb out the police cruiser, look up and see the lights are on. Officer Gibbs winds down her window.

  “So, stay out of trouble for the next forty-eight hours at least,” she reminds me. That’s how long the restraining order against me lasts.

  Two freaking days.

  What am I going to do?

  I look left and right before I cross the street. I reach over and open the tall gate. Jo has green plants leading up the pathway to her front door.

  My hands go up and a shaky finger presses on the buzzer. The sound of chimes fills the whole area. Then footsteps pitter-patter across the room.

  “Hey— Jennifer, right?” asks Jo’s partner.

  “Ah-hem,” I clear my throat. “Yes, that’s me,” I try to smile, but I fail miserably.

  “Hey, babe. Ah, Jennifer from work is here,” he calls out.

  Jo walks around the corner. “Don’t just stand there, come in.” She scolds.

  Her partner moves to the side and holds the door open as I walk in.

  “Marley can you get us a drink?” she asks him. “Jen what would you like? Red or white wine, coffee or water?” She waits as I step into the foyer.

  I brush my hair out of my face.

  “Good God, woman. What happened to you?” Her eyes trail up and down my body.

  “Um,” my chin quivers.

  “Marley, I think we need something stronger to drink,” She calls out. Jo grabs a hold of me and I just breakdown and sob on her shoulder.

  My body feels broken as my ribs squeeze against the pain in my chest.

  This can’t be happening!

  How could I be so blind?

  I slow my crying down.

  Jo gives me sympathy eyes as I retell the events of this afternoon.

  “What are you going to do?” she asks. Her hand is rubbing my shoulder.

  I shrug and wipe my nose with my fingers.

  “Maybe you need to start fresh. We have a sister pharmacy in Esperance if you would like to relocate. I know that they are looking for another pharmacist.”

  “Can I really do that?” I ask.

  “I think that, with the restraining order and um … Wendy, that it would be best for the company.” Jo sighs. “And just think of the beaches. I’ve heard that they are ranked pretty high when it comes to beaches in the world.”

  “Yes.” I whisper. “Yes, I will
take it,” I say louder.

  I’m going to do this and start fresh.

  2

  Six Months Later

  I wrap my arms around my body as I walk along the esplanade to clear my head. I have been living in Esperance for six months now. I am currently unemployed. I didn’t go into the pharmacy, as I was supposed to. I just couldn’t, not with everything in my life going wrong.

  My sister, Alison has mentioned seeing Richard, my soon to be ex-husband, with Wendy.

  What did she have that I don’t?

  “Hey, Viagra girl,” someone calls out.

  I stop walking and look around.

  A young man walks up to me. His green eyes startle me. They look so beautiful and intense. I think I found a new favourite colour.

  “Jay isn’t it,” he tilts his head.

  My eyebrows mash together. His face does look familiar. He raises an eyebrow and then I remember him.

  I put my hand over my mouth. “Oh,” I say.

  He’s the guy I tried to sell Viagra to, back at my old pharmacy.

  “Did they fire you or something? You know, for trying to sell Viagra to a young stud like myself.” he smirks.

  I chuckle at the memory. “I actually quit, but thanks for asking,” I start to walk away.

  “Hey, wait up,” he calls out. “So, Jay,” he says when he catches up to me.

  “Jennifer,” I say.

  “That name’s too long, and besides I like Jay better. It suits you.” He waffles on.

  I roll my eyes.

  “So, um—what’s a hot guy like me doing without a girl like you?”

  I stop walking and look at him. His hair is still a mess, his green eyes are a tad darker and he is just in his board shorts. My eyes linger on his ripped stomach. I bite my lip.

  “Jay,” his voice turns husky. “My eyes are up here,” he points to his face.

  I snap my eyes up. Oh god, did I just eye-fuck his abs? Is that what it looked like?