by Betina Krahn
Luke.
She couldn’t even think his name without opening a wound. Tim’s Neanderthal behavior hadn’t surprised her. That was why she lived so far from her family. But the fact that Luke only came around to check up on her at her brother’s orders—now that hurt.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she fished it out, shaking a few grits of sand from the handset. When she opened the phone, she saw an incoming message with a photo attached.
Recognizing the image instantly, she straightened. Tensed. Hoped.
It was the e-card she’d done for CrownCraft’s online division. The photo of the man and woman in the backseat of a cab.
The message with the card read:
Although the woman in this photo doesn’t wear a trench coat half as well as you, it sure is an artistically beautiful picture. I hope I can find the photographer to tell her how much I admire her talent. Her independence. And the way she looks inatoga.
Tori stifled a half gasp, half laugh. Luke hadn’t signed his name, but then he hadn’t needed to. Her heartbeat sped madly as she peered around the beach for some sign of him. She didn’t see anyone but a few early fishermen—none of whom were as hot as Luke.
Confused, she closed the e-mail and texted him back, grateful she was picking up wifi and good cell coverage. Where are you? she typed, even though she was almost scared to find out why he’d felt a need to follow her.
I’m on my way to the pier. I recognized the background from the photo you posted on your status page. Will you stay there long enough to talk?
Was he being serious? She clicked back to her saved photos on the phone and saw the picture she’d snapped had plenty of landscape cues for a local. The buildings—the beach itself—would have tipped him off.
He hadn’t followed her at all.
Depends, she typed, her fingers shaking a little so that she had to backspace and fix three typos in that one word. Is my brother with you? I’m not letting him trick me into some shotgun wedding…
After she typed it, she deleted every defensive word. She didn’t want to bristle about old hurts done to her by the family or old regrets about not letting Luke into her life sooner. She simply wanted to see where a relationship might lead and if he was the man she’d dreamt he could be ever since he’d been her first crush.
Hitting the all-caps button, she simply typed YES.
How could she call herself a risk-taker if she didn’t take a chance on love, even if she happened to be mad at her stubborn, overprotective lawyer?
Heart in her throat, she stood to walk toward the parking lot when the sound of a boat engine out on the water made her turn. She couldn’t imagine how he’d arrived at the pier so quickly, but she recognized the boat even from far away. And not because of the expensive model or the distinctive catamaran hull that made it cut smoothly through the waves.
No, she could tell her lawyer had arrived by the red, heart-shaped flags whipping in the wind off his radio antennae. And by the ridiculously tacky and undeniably sweet wreath of red roses draped over the bow. He’d even brought Daisy, her black Lab. As they sped closer, Tori could see Daisy wore a pink bandana around her neck for the occasion.
Without saying a word, Luke was telling her he didn’t mind her quirkiness and wouldn’t care if she shot photos of cavemen in suede loincloths for a living. He’d made the most uncharacteristically splashy entrance she could envision for a staid attorney. That was, until he dropped anchor and jumped overboard, a rose clamped in his teeth like a lovesick pirate.
Giddy with laughter and flattered by such an extravagant display, Tori dropped her phone in the sand and ran into the surf to meet him. Legs slowing to a crawl once she got hip deep, she changed her approach and swam.
They met at the place where the water was shallow enough to stand but deep enough to cover them. Only then did she notice the water was freezing.
“What are you doing?” Shaking her head, she plucked the rose from between his teeth, freeing him to answer.
“I’m showing you how wrong you were when you said I didn’t ask you out because I wanted someone more traditional like me.” With a sweeping gesture, his arm came up out of the water to indicate the decked-out boat. “You see? I don’t mind causing a stir. You have no idea the lengths I’m prepared to go to for you, Tori.”
Water droplets beaded on his lashes, framing sincere eyes.
Touched, she felt the sting of tears in her own.
“I’m starting to figure it out.” Her voice shook with the realization that Luke Owens was for real. Forever.
“And there’s a small chance I overreacted about not wanting a protector.”
He wrapped his arms around her, the warmth of his hands melting any reserves she might have had left.
“Is that right?”
“Who wouldn’t want someone to help look out for them, especially if it means running interference with my family?”
“I know I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to look out for me.” His hands cupped her bottom and lifted her up into his arms so he held her in a bear hug. “I’m going to need a lot of help if I’m going to think about leaving New York behind to spend a lot more months of the year in Florida.”
Her teeth quit chattering. Surprise and pleasure chased away any chill of the water.
“Really?” She kissed his face, all the more precious to her for the beautiful sacrifice he’d just offered to make for her sake. “Because I could probably spend some time in New York now and then. The city is still a fair distance from my parents’ farm. I think we’d be safe.”
He squeezed her against him.
“I wish you’d made that Valentine’s Day pact a long time ago, Tori. I’ve needed you for a damn long time.” The husky growl in his voice made her heart swell with soft emotions even as the rest of her melted against him.
“I’ve needed you, too. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner,” she whispered against his lips before dragging her mouth along his in a tentative taste. “I was in such a hurry to distance myself from my family that I cut you off, too. Cut off whatever I might have felt for you.”
“I wasn’t showing up at your house every year because Tim told me to.” His voice was serious now. His eyes intent. “The fact that he asked was just my excuse to see you again.”
“I’m sorry I freaked out when my brother showed up. I was already panicking that you wanted to leave and my head was racing all over the place, not making sense.”
“That’s okay. I like thinking I can make you crazy sometimes.” He grinned as he peered back at his flower-strewn boat. “Look how crazy you make me, woman.”
Behind them, Daisy barked from the deck, the only Lab in history who didn’t like getting wet.
“You sure know how to make a statement.” She flung her arms wide and hugged him, so grateful to have this chance to make things right.
“I don’t know that I can set a scene like a world class photographer, but I did my best.”
“But how did you get here so fast?” she asked suddenly, knowing he couldn’t have thrown all of this together at the spur of the moment. “With a Valentine’s party in tow?”
“Well, first of all, I ordered the flowers and stuff for Valentine’s Day a couple of days ago, knowing you really wanted a big romance blowout this year. So I already had all of this stuff at my place.”
“You just happened to have all these roses on hand?”
“You can’t hold it against me for being a planner as long as I don’t hold it against you for…uh…making the occasional impulsive choice.”
“Is that what you call my decision to speed away in the boat this morning?”
“You made a heck of a picture with the sheet whipping in the wind behind you.” He molded his hands to her sides, the warmth of his palms penetrating the soaked cotton. “But to answer the rest of your question, I loaded up my V-day gear and set out into the bay, figuring I’d get a lead on a woman in a toga soon enough.”
His hands sl
id under the sheet, reminding her that a deliciously happy ending to the day awaited her in the privacy of his boat. She happened to know he had a stateroom with a door that locked.
“You see? Aren’t you lucky to be crazy about a woman who tends to be kind of memorable?”
“I’ll never lose you this way,” he acknowledged, his eyes turning a darker shade as his hands cupped her bottom, urging her close to the hard heat of him.
“I’ll make sure of it,” she promised. Opening her lips to his, she sealed her commitment with a kiss to make Cupid blush.
THE SATISFACTION
Lori Borrill
1
KITTY CLAYBORN stared out the window of Auntie Bea’s Cards and Gifts watching a smiling couple stroll arm-in-arm down the boulevard.
“Oh, that’s just wrong.”
Jennifer, her part-time assistant, glanced up from a display of half-off porcelain Christmas angels. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the day after New Year’s. Everyone’s supposed to be broke and hung over, yet this is the fourth couple I’ve seen going into Beekers in the past twenty minutes. It’s not even the dinner hour. Will he really be as busy tonight as he is every night?”
Jennifer pulled the fifty-percent-off sign from the shelf and replaced it with one that upped the discount to seventy-five percent, solidifying the fact that Kitty would now lose four dollars on every one of the silly angels she sold—if she was lucky.
“I think it’s great his restaurant’s doing so well,” Jennifer said cheerfully. “It’s good for the neighborhood.”
Right. And if even a handful of Josh Beekers’ happy diners stepped into her store on occasion, Kitty would agree. Plenty glanced at her window displays before crossing the street, but their resulting looks of bland disinterest would make a herd of zombies seem like a lively bunch. She had to face the fact that, while the dwindling population of local farmers might love her country bears and sweetheart tchotchkes, the new wave of business flooding into town was looking for something else.
Something Auntie Bea’s apparently didn’t have.
In nightly droves, people swarmed into Shiloh, California, from as far as San Francisco, brought in by a riverfront revitalization effort that had turned the old dairy town into an upscale tourist destination. And while the rest of the community was reaping the benefit, Auntie Bea’s was dying a slow and painful death.
“Beekers might be good for the neighborhood,” Kitty grumbled, “but he’s not doing anything for us. And if I don’t do something to turn this business around, CrownCraft is canceling our contract.”
Jennifer scoffed. “We’ve been their dealer for decades. I can’t believe they’d drop us just because their bitchy sales representative didn’t like the store.” She stacked the last of the singing snowmen on the discount shelf next to the angels.
“Believe it,” Kitty replied. “Andresen’s Drugs has been trying to steal our account ever since Bea retired, and if I don’t come up with a plan to boost sales they might get it.”
Especially once the holiday sales figures went out. If CrownCraft hadn’t been disappointed enough by her Halloween and Thanksgiving sales, they’d certainly be sharpening the ax once Kitty closed out her dismal year-end. And if they pulled her contract as an exclusive dealer for their greeting cards and stationery, she’d lose the only merchandise that was keeping her store alive.
It was obvious now that if she wanted Auntie Bea’s to survive the store would need a complete makeover. But to what? That was the question.
Absently, she chewed on her pearl necklace, worrying over her situation as a group of women stopped on the sidewalk and waited to cross the street. One glanced at Kitty’s window display, looking interested in something, but when the woman touched a finger to her lipstick, Kitty realized she was only interested in her own reflection.
Kitty’s low mood sank further. “What are all these people looking for?” she mumbled.
“Huh?”
“These people who drive all the way up here to dine at Beekers. He draws in over a hundred customers five nights a week. What gifts could I sell that they’d come in and buy?”
Jennifer shrugged. “Why don’t you ask Josh?”
“Josh?”
“Sure. He’s the one talking to them all.” Jennifer stepped to the window and eyed the restaurant across the street. Through the large picture windows the two could see the group of women being escorted toward the back of the dining room. “He spends half his night wandering from table to table chatting with his customers,” Jennifer went on. “Haven’t you ever noticed?”
Noticed Josh Beeker? Every woman with a pulse had an eye on that man. Ever since he’d brought that gorgeous cowboy body of his into town from Denver last May, he’d been stealing hearts. Most women swooned at the mere sight of him. He’d won the stronger ones over with charm. And if there’d been any left not desperate to spring naked into the man’s big burly arms, he’d won those over with his award-winning menu. It was nearly impossible to be female and not take notice of Josh Beeker, and from Kitty’s vantage point, she knew plenty of them had.
Kitty lived in the second-story apartment above Auntie Bea’s, and often over the past six months she’d caught sight of Josh closing up shop for the night with someone tall and beautiful on his arm. She hadn’t needed the rumor mill to guess that Josh liked his women the way he liked his wine—bold, smooth and full-bodied—three things Kitty wasn’t. But that didn’t stop her from drawing her shades and dreaming that someday she’d be one of those women, if just for one night.
Silly, since she could barely hold a conversation with the man without tripping over her tongue. Asking for his help with her store?
She took a deep breath and sighed. “That’s actually a really good idea.”
“Of course it is.” Jennifer beamed. “I thought of it.”
“I suppose I could go over and ask him to coffee.” She toyed with the pearls around her neck. “Or I could ask him to stop by one night after he closes the restaurant. I do live right upstairs.”
Okay, so that particular idea filled her head with so many fantasies she was sure she visibly blushed.
“Josh Beeker up in your apartment after hours?” Jennifer goaded. “I can only imagine how that would end up.”
Kitty already had. In fact, her sex-starved mind had flashed past four erotic scenarios before she mentally jabbed herself back to reality.
Unfortunately, Josh picked that very moment to step into view as he brought a bottle of wine and that tongue-twisting smile to a couple seated at the window.
Kitty’s heart skipped a little. Oh, the man was a meal for the eyes. He kept his sandy-blond hair cut short but mussed on top, perfect for accentuating a pair of beautiful green eyes the color of fresh moss. He was habitually tanned but for the pale circles around his eyes from the sunglasses he wore outside. He had that classic Colorado sportsman look, an adventurous cowboy without the drawl, with a bright white smile and full soft lips that made a girl want to kiss him. Or be kissed by him. All over.
But the pull that was Josh Beeker didn’t come from his looks alone. The man had an aura, a special vibe that said wherever he stood was the best place to be. One got the impression life was good for Josh, or if it wasn’t, he took his problems in stride. He oozed easy days and sensual nights, forever exuding the assurance that time spent with him would always be time well spent. And like everyone else, Kitty would love to catch a few of those sunny vibes for herself. If only she had the nerve to put herself in his path.
Unfortunately, she didn’t. Because, despite all her yearnings and lusty thoughts, she was still the great-niece of sweet old Auntie Bea—too rural, modest and ordinary for a guy his friends called “The Beek.” On Josh’s wine list, Kitty would be grape soda, sweet and bubbly but nowhere near the piquant seductress that could compete in his league. But, oh, if things were different…
With a heavy breath, she sighed. “Okay, so maybe coffee is the best plan.”
/>
“If you’ve still got your sights set on Howard, I’d say so.”
Howard.
Kitty groaned.
“Unless you’ve been keeping secrets,” Jennifer added, “Santa never brought you a boyfriend and Valentine’s Day is only six weeks away.” She followed Kitty’s gaze to Josh’s restaurant across the street. “Instead of ogle-eyeing the town playboy, maybe you should start thinking about plan Howard.”
Jennifer was right. After making the pact with Sam and Tori at last year’s GCA Winter Trade Show, Kitty was determined to make her love life top priority. She’d spent much of her spring and summer dating a little, but mostly analyzing her choices in men and trying to get to the bottom of why, at the age of twenty-nine, she was still single with not an interesting prospect in sight. She’d concluded that her problem was that she picked men solely on the basis of attraction: case in point, Josh Beeker—dreamy on the eyes, sinful to the imagination, but a lousy option for anything involving futures, commitments and happy-ever-afters.
Yet she’d spent six months drooling over him, hadn’t she?
Howard, on the other hand, was everything a wise, goal-driven woman would go for. Assistant manager-on-his-way-to-manager of the Shiloh branch of Hollies Paint Stores, Howard was a local, two years her senior, reliable, capable and intent on settling down with a house and family. And he’d been smitten with Kitty for as long as she could remember.
Howard was kind, boring, gentle and personable, boring, responsible and career-minded, boring. Everything she should be looking for in her quest for the long haul. Except—okay!—he was boring.
But that didn’t change reality. Life with Howard had to be better than this endless string of going-nowhere relationships she always managed to stumble into. And who knew? Maybe if she gave the man a chance, she’d end up uncovering something special. So she’d promised herself that if she rang in this New Year just as alone as she had the one before it, she’d march down to Hollies and ask Howard on a date. No way was she going to be the lone survivor of the Valentine’s Day pact, chugging down drinks in Chicago with Barry the Bartender while speculating what kind of wonderful, romantic evenings Sam and Tori were currently enjoying.
