Be My Valentine

by Debbie Macomber

  Parker ignored her. He couldn’t seem to stand still, but rapidly paced her kitchen floor, pausing only when Bailey handed him a steaming mug of coffee. She’d seen Parker when he was angry and frustrated, even when he was jealous and unreasonable, but she’d never seen him quite like this.

  “Say what you want to say,” she prompted, resting her hip against the kitchen counter. She held her cup carefully in both hands.

  “All right.” Parker’s eyes searched hers. “I resent having to deal with your irrational emotions.”

  “My irrational emotions!”

  “Admit it, you’re behaving illogically because some other man broke off his engagement to you.”

  “Other men,” Bailey corrected sarcastically. “Notice the plural, meaning more than one. Before you judge me too harshly, Mr. Davidson, let me remind you that every person is the sum of his or her experiences. If you stick your hand in the fire and get burned, you’re not as likely to play around the campfire again, are you? It’s as simple as that. I was fool enough to risk the fire twice, but I’m not willing to do it a third time.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that you weren’t in love with either Paul or Tom?”

  Bailey blinked at the unexpectedness of the question. “That’s ridiculous. I agreed to marry them. No woman does that without being in love.”

  “They both fell for someone else.”

  “How kind of you to remind me.”

  “Yet when they told you, you did nothing but wallow in your pain. If you’d been in love, deeply in love, you would’ve done everything within your power to keep them. Instead you did nothing. Absolutely nothing. What else am I to think?”

  “Frankly I don’t care what you think. I know what was in my heart and I was in love with both of them. Is it any wonder I refuse to fall in love again? An engagement is out of the question!”

  “Then marry me now.”

  Bailey’s heart leapt in her chest, then sank like a dead weight. “I—I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

  “You heard. Engagements terrify you. I’m willing to accept that you’ve got a valid reason, but you shouldn’t let it dictate how you live the rest of your life.”

  “In other words, bypassing the engagement and rushing to the altar is going to calm my fears?”

  “You keep repeating that you refuse to go through another engagement. I can understand your hesitancy,” he stated calmly. “Reno is only a couple of hours away.” He glanced at his watch. “We could be married by this time tomorrow.”

  “Ah…” Words twisted and turned in her mind, but no coherent thought emerged.

  “Well?” Parker regarded her expectantly.

  “I…we…elope? I don’t think so, Parker. It’s rather…heroic of you to suggest it, actually, but it’s an impossible idea.”

  “Why? It sounds like the logical solution to me.”

  “Have you stopped to consider that there are other factors involved in this? Did it occur to you that I might not be in love with you?”

  “You’re so much in love with me you can’t think straight,” he said with ego-crushing certainty.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Easy. It’s the way you react, trying too hard to convince yourself you don’t care. And the way you kiss me. At first there’s resistance, then gradually you warm to it, letting your guard slip just a little, enough for me to realize you’re enjoying the kissing as much as I am. It’s when you start to moan that I know everything I need to know.”

  A ferocious blush exploded in Bailey’s cheeks. “I do not moan,” she protested heatedly.

  “Do you want me to prove it to you?”

  “No,” Bailey cried, backing away.

  A smug smile moved over his mouth, settling in his eyes.

  Bailey’s heart felt heavy. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Parker, but I’d be doing us both a terrible disservice if I agreed to this.”

  Parker looked grim. She stared at him and knew, even as she rejected his marriage proposal, that if ever there was a man who could restore peace to her heart, that man was Parker. But she wasn’t ready yet; she still had healing and growing to do on her own. But soon…Taking her courage in both hands, she whispered, “Couldn’t we take some time to decide about this?”

  Parker had asked her to be his wife. Parker Davidson, who was twice the man Paul was and three times the man Tom could ever hope to be. And she was so frightened all she could do was stutter and tremble and plead for time.

  “Time,” he repeated. Parker set his mug down on the kitchen counter, then stepped forward and framed her face in his large hands. His thumbs gently stroked her cheeks. Bailey gazed up at him, barely breathing. Warm anticipation filled her as he lowered his mouth.

  She gasped sharply as his lips touched hers, moving over them slowly, masterfully. A moan rose deep in her throat, one so soft it was barely audible. A small cry of longing and need.

  Parker heard it and responded, easing her closer and wrapping her in his arms. He kissed her a second time, then abruptly released her and turned away.

  Bailey clutched the counter behind her to keep from falling. “What was that for?”

  A slow easy grin spread across his face. “To help you decide.”

  “The worst part of this whole thing is that I haven’t written a word in an entire week,” Bailey complained as she sat on her living-room carpet, her legs pulled up under her chin. Pages of Jo Ann’s manuscript littered the floor. Max, who revealed little or no interest in their writing efforts, was asleep as usual atop her printer.

  “In an entire week?” Jo Ann sounded horrified. Even at Christmas neither of them had taken more than a three-day break from writing.

  “I’ve tried. Each and every night I turn on my computer and then I sit there and stare at the screen. This is the worst case of writer’s block I’ve ever experienced. I can’t seem to make myself work.”

  “Hmm,” Jo Ann said, leaning against the side of the couch. “Isn’t it also an entire week since you saw Parker? Seems to me the two must be connected.”

  She nodded miserably. Jo Ann wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. She’d relived that night in her memory at least a dozen times a day.

  “You’ve never told me what happened,” Jo Ann said, studying Bailey closely.

  Bailey swallowed. “Parker is just a friend.”

  “And pigs have wings.”

  “My only interest in Parker is as a role model for Michael,” she tried again, but she didn’t know who she was trying to convince, Jo Ann or herself.

  She hadn’t heard from him all week. He’d left, promising to give her the time she’d requested. He’d told her the kiss was meant to help her decide if she wanted him. Wanted him? Bailey didn’t know if she’d ever stop wanting him, but she was desperately afraid that his love for her wouldn’t last. It hadn’t with Paul or Tom, and it wouldn’t with Parker. And with Parker, the pain of rejection would be far worse.

  Presumably Parker had thought he was reassuring her by suggesting they skip the engagement part and rush into a Nevada marriage. What he didn’t seem to understand, what she couldn’t seem to explain, was that it wouldn’t make any difference. A wedding ring wasn’t a guarantee. Someday, somehow, Parker would have a change of heart; he’d fall out of love with her.

  “Are you all right?” Jo Ann asked.

  “Of course I am.” Bailey managed to keep her voice steady and pretend a calm she wasn’t close to feeling. “I’m just upset about this writer’s block. But it isn’t the end of the world. I imagine everything will return to normal soon and I’ll be back to writing three or four pages a night.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  Bailey wasn’t sure about anything. “No,” she admitted.

  “Just remember I’m here any time you want to talk.”

  A trembling smile touched the edges of Bailey’s mouth and she nodded.

  Bailey saw Parker three days later. She was waiting at th
e BART station by herself—Jo Ann had a day off—when she happened to glance up and see him walking in her direction. At first she tried to ignore the quaking of her heart and focus her attention away from him. But it was impossible.

  She knew he saw her, too, although he gave no outward indication of it. His eyes met hers as though challenging her to ignore him. When she took a hesitant step toward him, his mouth quirked in a mocking smile.

  “Hello, Parker.”

  “Bailey.”

  “How have you been?”

  He hesitated a split second before he answered, which made Bailey hold her breath in anticipation.

  “I’ve been terrific. How about you?”

  “Wonderful,” she lied, astonished that they could stand so close and pretend so well. His gaze lingered on her lips and she felt the throb of tension in the air. Parker must have rushed to get to the subway—his hair was slightly mussed and he was breathing hard.

  He said something but his words were drowned out by the clatter of the approaching train. It pulled up and dozens of people crowded out. Neither Parker nor Bailey spoke as they waited to board.

  He followed her inside, but sat several spaces away. She looked at him, oddly shocked and disappointed that he’d refused to sit beside her.

  There were so many things she longed to tell him. Until now she hadn’t dared admit to herself how much she’d missed his company. How she hungered to talk to him. They’d known each other for such a short while and yet he seemed to fill every corner of her life.

  That, apparently, wasn’t the case with Parker. Not if he could so casually, so willingly, sit apart from her. She raised her chin and forced herself to stare at the advertising panels that ran the length of the car.

  Bailey felt Parker’s eyes on her. The sensation was so strong his hand might as well have touched her cheek, held her face the way he had when he’d last left her. When she could bear it no longer, she turned and glanced at him. Their eyes met and the hungry desire in his tore at her heart.

  With every ounce of strength she possessed, Bailey looked away. Eventually he would find someone else, someone he loved more than he would ever love her. Bailey was as certain of that as she was of her own name.

  She kept her gaze on anything or anyone except Parker. But she felt the pull between them so strongly that she had to turn her head and look at him. He was staring at her, and the disturbing darkness of his eyes seemed to disrupt the very beat of her heart. A rush of longing jolted her body.

  The train was slowing and Bailey was so grateful it was her station she jumped up and hurried to the exit.

  “I’m still waiting,” Parker whispered from directly behind her. She was conscious as she’d never been before of the long muscled legs so close to her own, of his strength and masculinity. “Have you decided yet?”

  Bailey shut her eyes and prayed for the courage to do what was right for both of them. She shook her head silently; she couldn’t talk to him now. She couldn’t make a rational decision while the yearning in her heart was so great, while her body was so weak with need for him.

  The crowd rushed forward and Bailey rushed with them, leaving him behind.

  The writers’ group met the following evening, for which Bailey was thankful. At least she wouldn’t have to stare at a blank computer screen for several hours while she tried to convince herself she was a writer. Jo Ann had been making headway on her rewrite, whereas Bailey’s had come to a complete standstill.

  The speaker, an established historical-romance writer who lived in the San Francisco area, had agreed to address their group. Her talk was filled with good advice and Bailey tried to take notes. Instead, she drew meaningless doodles. Precise three-dimensional boxes and neat round circles in geometric patterns.

  It wasn’t until she was closing her spiral notebook at the end of the speech that Bailey realized all the circles on her page resembled interlocking wedding bands. About fifteen pairs of them. Was her subconscious sending her a message? Bailey had given up guessing.

  “Are you going over to the diner for coffee?” Jo Ann asked as the group dispersed. Her eyes didn’t meet Bailey’s.

  “Sure.” She studied her friend and knew instinctively that something was wrong. Jo Ann had been avoiding her most of the evening. At first she’d thought it was her imagination, but there was a definite strain between them.

  “All right,” Bailey said, once they were outside. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Jo Ann sighed deeply. “I saw Parker this afternoon. I know it’s probably nothing and I’m a fool for saying anything but, Bailey, he was with a woman and they were definitely more than friends.”

  “Oh?” Bailey’s legs were shaky as she moved down the steps to the street. Her heart felt like a stone in the center of her chest.

  “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. For all I know, the woman could be his sister. I…I hadn’t intended on saying a word, but then I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Of course I do,” Bailey said, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. Her voice was firm and steady, revealing none of the chaos in her thoughts.

  “I think Parker saw me. In fact, I’m sure he did. It was almost as if he wanted me to see him. He certainly didn’t go out of his way to disguise who he was with—which leads me to believe it was all very innocent.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Bailey lied. Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. She made a pretense of looking at her watch. “My goodness, I didn’t realize it was so late. I think I’ll skip coffee tonight and head on home.”

  Jo Ann grabbed her arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course.” But she was careful not to look directly at her friend. “It really doesn’t matter, you know—about Parker.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” Jo Ann echoed.

  “I’m not the jealous type.”

  Her stomach was churning, her head spinning, her hands trembling. Fifteen minutes later, Bailey let herself into her apartment. She didn’t stop to remove her coat, but walked directly into the kitchen and picked up the phone.

  Parker answered on the third ring. His greeting sounded distracted. “Bailey,” he said, “it’s good to hear from you. I’ve been trying to call you most of the evening.”

  “I was at a writers’ meeting. You wanted to tell me something?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. You obviously aren’t going to change your mind about the two of us.”

  “I…”

  “Let’s forget the whole marriage thing. There’s no need to rush into this. What do you think?”

  Eleven

  “Oh, I agree one hundred percent,” Bailey answered. It didn’t surprise her that Parker had experienced a change of heart. She’d been expecting it to happen sooner or later. It was a blessing that he’d recognized his feelings so early on.

  “No hard feelings then?”

  “None,” she assured him, raising her voice to a bright confident level. “I’ve gotten used to it. Honestly, you don’t have a thing to worry about.”

  “You seem…cheerful.”

  “I am,” Bailey answered, doing her best to sound as though she’d just won the lottery and was only waiting until she’d finished with this phone call to celebrate.

  “How’s the writing going?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” Couldn’t be worse actually, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Not to Parker, at any rate.

  “I’ll be seeing you around then,” he said.

  “I’m sure you will.” Maintaining this false enthusiasm was killing her. “One question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Where’d you meet her?”

  “Her?” Parker hesitated. “You must mean Lisa. We’ve known each other for ages.”

  “I see.” Bailey had to get off the phone before her facade cracked. But her voice broke as she continued, “I wish you well, Parker.”

  He paused as though he were debating whether or not to say something else. “You, too, Bailey.”

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nbsp; Bailey replaced the receiver, her legs shaking so badly she stumbled toward the chair and literally fell into it. She covered her face with her hands, dragging deep gulps of air into her lungs. The burning ache in her stomach seemed to ripple out in hot waves, spreading to the tips of her fingers, to the bottoms of her feet.

  By sheer force of will, Bailey lifted her head, squared her shoulders and stood up. She’d been through this before. Twice. Once more wouldn’t be any more difficult than the first two times. Or so she insisted to herself.

  After all, this time there was no ring to return, no wedding arrangements to cancel, no embossed announcements to burn.

  No one, with the exception of Jo Ann, even knew about Parker, so the embarrassment would be kept to a minimum.

  Getting over Parker should be quick and easy.

  It wasn’t.

  A hellishly slow week passed and Bailey felt as if she were living on another planet. Outwardly nothing had changed, and yet the world seemed to be spinning off its axis. She went to work every morning, discussed character and plot with Jo Ann, worked an eight-hour day, took the subway home and plunked herself down in front of her computer, working on her rewrite with demonic persistence.

  She appeared to have everything under control. Yet her life was unfolding in slow motion around her, as though she was a bystander and not a participant.

  It must have shown in her writing because Jo Ann phoned two days after Bailey had given her the complete rewrite.

  “You finished reading it?” Bailey couldn’t hide her excitement. If Jo Ann liked it, then Bailey could mail it right off to Paula Albright, the editor who’d asked to see the revised manuscript.

  “I’d like to come over and discuss a few points. Have you got time?”

  Time was the one thing Bailey had in abundance. She hadn’t realized how large a role Parker had come to play in her life or how quickly he’d chased away the emptiness. The gap he’d left behind seemed impossible to fill. Most nights she wrote until she was exhausted. But because she couldn’t sleep anyway, she usually just sat in the living room holding Max.