A Gentleman's Kiss Romance Collection

by Ginny Aiken

  She forced herself to get up and shower, dress, and get ready to meet the bus at the school at twelve. Passing her computer as she gathered up her purse and lunch, she stared at the blank screen. Still no e-mail. She promised herself she was going to quit looking in that direction. The telephone rang, and she glanced at her watch, debating on whether to answer it. She hadn’t the energy for another grilling from Mom. She walked past the phone, but then the possibility of the trip being canceled stopped her. On the fourth ring, she walked over and murmured a very unenthusiastic hello.

  There was nothing but an odd croaking on the other side. She frowned, wondering if this was a crank call. But then through the muttered garble she recognized a name that struck magic and made her grip the phone tighter.

  Dave? Had he said “Dave”?

  “Who is this?” she asked pointedly.

  There was a pause on the other end, and she could hear a shuffle. What was going on? Then a distinctly southern accent came on the line and her eyes widened.

  “Melanie, this is Tom Barker. You don’t know me but I’m Dave Browning’s roommate. He’s been in the hospital with pneumonia and bronchitis the past week, and though he’s totally incoherent, he insisted on trying to call you. I’ve been delivering your e-mails to him, by the way.”

  “In the hospital?” she repeated, trying to take in everything he had told her, but it was quite a shock.

  “Yep. He got sick the day he came home. Apparently, he picked up a flu bug in Paris and by the time he got to the doctor, he was so feverish and dehydrated that he was admitted to the hospital. He’s been pretty much out of it until yesterday, but I’ve heard your name mumbled so many times, I think I can speak for him.”

  She smiled, sinking into the nearest chair, winding the phone cord around her slim fingers and feeling as though she had just been turned into Cinderella again. “I’m sorry he’s so ill. Could I speak with him? I’ll do the talking.”

  “Great!”

  Another shuffle followed, and then a choked sound, and Melanie began to tell him how concerned she had been, that she was sorry he was sick, but that she hoped he would be out of the hospital soon. And she was glad to hear from him.

  A garble followed but she made out the words “will call again.”

  “Okay, hope you feel better,” she said, wishing she could be there at the hospital with him now.

  It was the glance at her watch that forced her into action. She had exactly three minutes to get to school. But she felt she could fly, if necessary. Dave had not forgotten her! He had called her name often, or so his roommate said. She believed Tom. She believed Dave. And she believed that life was clouds and rainbows once again, just like the pictures she painted for her second-graders.

  Melanie approached her school day in an entirely different manner. Will’s constant excuses to go to the bathroom did not ruffle her feathers, nor did Harry’s antics on the back row, which usually required a stern voice. All the little girls were beautiful to her, and in a burst of appreciation for the spring day, she got permission from Mr. Warren, who was still watching her curiously, to take the children outside to examine the new rock garden the fifth-graders had designed.

  As they sat out in the warm sunshine with the kids playing happily, Mary Beth sidled up to her. It was hard not to favor blond little Mary Beth who was always bringing her gifts. They were in the midst of a discussion about Mary Beth’s spring break to visit her grandmother in Springfield, when she noticed that Harry and Will were engaged in competition over who could throw one of the smaller rocks the farthest.

  She jumped up from her comfortable spot on the lawn and rushed to their side, scolding them more gently than usual and telling them they must pick up the rocks they had thrown, and now everyone was going back inside.

  She hadn’t even minded her mother’s routine phone call every afternoon. This time she decided to favor her with a tiny bit of her news. She told her about meeting Dave from Atlanta, and one thing led to another, until Melanie stopped just short of saying she had fallen in love. Instead, she ended the conversation with a mellow admission: “He is the nicest guy I’ve ever met.”

  “But why haven’t you told us about him? Why …,” and on and on.

  “Er, Mom,” she interrupted, “something is boiling over on the kitchen stove.” Actually, her teakettle was. She had already had two cups of tea, but she couldn’t seem to control herself; a wonderful sense of abandon had overtaken her. She loved the world, even Nan and her mother.

  That night she rushed home and found her computer filled with messages—all from Dave. He had gone home from the hospital today, armed with antibiotics and fruit baskets. There were four e-mails written within an hour of each other. All began with an apology for not having contacted her sooner, then he was quickly into their trip to Paris, reminding her of places they had seen and things they had done.

  “It’s all I thought about when I lay in the hospital bed being poked with shots and fighting the frustration of losing my voice.”

  Each e-mail got more personal, and after she had read each one twice, she changed into her jeans and T-shirt, made herself tea, and bypassed food since her stomach had knotted up again. But it was a wonderful feeling. She had put on a CD and Harry Connick, Jr. was now crooning one of her favorite Cole Porter songs, and she felt her heart soar toward the heavens.

  In the midst of her reverie she rushed to her bedroom, knelt by her bed, and said, “God, thank You. Thank You so much. Please don’t let me lose Dave. I haven’t asked for much in a long time, but I am asking You to bless my life with this wonderful Christian man. And I will be grateful forever,” she added.

  She had just returned to the computer when the telephone rang. During the conversation that followed, she could hardly believe that God seemed to be answering her prayer so quickly.

  It was Tom again, Dave’s roommate, and he was calling from his office.

  “Melanie, Dave has had such a rough time the past week. Had to spend his birthday plugged into IVs and feeling miserable. His friends want to do something special for him. We’re planning a surprise birthday party soon and …” He seemed to have difficulty going on with his plan.

  “And?” she prompted. “What? I think it’s great that you’re doing that for him.”

  “Well, I realize you don’t know me, but I’ve known Dave for years, and I can honestly tell you he is the greatest guy I’ve ever known.”

  A smile slipped over her lips, and she closed her eyes dreamily, recalling Dave’s face when they sat talking that first day at the sidewalk café. But she was drifting again, so she yanked her mind back to the subject.

  “So … I gather I can help in some way or you would not be calling?”

  “I know it’s asking a lot, and believe me, I will understand if you say no. In fact, he’d kill me—well, not really —just strangle me with one of his wild ties …”

  She smiled recalling the one on the plane.

  “But I’m going to be frank and invite you to fly down. We’ll plan the party around whenever you can make it. We had a weekend in mind.”

  “Which weekend?”

  He took an eternity before answering and then in a weak voice ventured the date. “This weekend. It’s a surprise, and what I had in mind was paying for your plane ticket—our little present to him—and Julie, that’s my girlfriend, can pick you up at the airport and you are more than welcome to stay with her. Her condo is only two blocks from ours.” His rapid flow of words came to a thoughtful silence. “You probably think I’m being too forward. We Southerners tend to seem too friendly to a lot of people.”

  “Not to me,” she said tenderly. “I think that is a wonderful gesture of friendship on your part, Tom. And I know Dave will be pleased. But …” She frowned.

  The weekend! What would she wear? Could she possibly be packed and into Cleveland to catch a plane in three days? And could she even get a flight at this late date?

  “I would really like to come, T
om. But it’s such short notice….”

  “I understand completely. To make your decision easier, I took the liberty of making two plane reservations for you Friday night out of Cleveland. Whichever time is most convenient. There’s a flight at seven and another at nine and—you must think I’m insane,” he finished lamely. “But for as long as I’ve known Dave, I’ve never seen him so in love.”

  In love! The words jolted Melanie back in her chair, and she bit her lip as tears rushed to her eyes. Her heart felt as though it would leap from her chest and fly away like the little doves she loved so much. She swallowed hard. This was a big decision, and yet it wasn’t. She had never met anyone like Dave; it might never happen again. And the sweetest miracle of all was that he was in love with her.

  Tossing all of her mother’s careful caution to the wind and conjuring up an image of Granny smiling down at her, she cleared her throat. “I’ll come,” she announced, and as she said the words, she knew she was making the right decision. In fact, she couldn’t wait to see Dave again.

  A huge sigh of relief filled the air. “You’re just as great as he said you were. Most women wouldn’t be as understanding or as nice. Which flight would be better for you?”

  Melanie made a quick calculation, and since she had pondered plane schedules and fares for a month before scheduling her trip to Paris, she already knew the answer. “Seven.”

  “I hope you don’t think I’m being too presumptuous but I’m a salesman and I tend to get aggressive. About the flights, I mean. Sorry.”

  She laughed. “Don’t apologize. Someone has to think fast in this situation.” She debated the amount of time it would take her and immediately realized she would have to leave school early, but she would not be deterred. She rarely asked for time off, and Mr. Warren would just have to understand.

  “What time does it arrive in Atlanta?”

  “Well,” he hesitated, “you’re going to lose some time because that particular flight makes a stop. But we won’t expect more from you than a good night’s sleep at Julie’s and then we’ll plan the party for Saturday. Actually, we’ll start early, and that will surprise Dave even more.”

  She was laughing like one of her second-graders. She loved the idea, and with Tom and Julie so accommodating, how could she refuse? In the split second she was having those thoughts, Tom rushed in with one more appealing plea to cinch the decision. “Dave hasn’t had a real birthday party in years. Says he prefers his birthdays low-key. He’s so good to everybody else it will be our pleasure to do something special for him.”

  “And mine too,” she added, feeling the warm fuzzies inside.

  “How will I recognize Julie at the airport?”

  “She’ll be the little blond with the big smile, probably wearing jeans and a University of Georgia sweatshirt. Dave has described you enough for her to easily spot you.”

  Melanie lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Just teasing. You won’t have any trouble finding each other. Meanwhile, I’ll have Dave occupied with something so he won’t suspect anything. Actually, I’ll probably have to go drag him away from his desk at the office. He’s practically holed up there day and night, until he drags in and puts Harry Connick, Jr. on to play with the same CD over and over until I have to put in earplugs. He’s kind of eccentric at times.” He stopped talking, which seemed abrupt. She had already learned that Tom was the kind who liked to talk, and she wondered how well he and Dave got along because she had an idea that Dave might need more silence.

  “I hope you don’t play hard to get,” he said, sounding more southern now as his words slowed down.

  “Why?” she asked curiously, staring across at her CD as it lulled out a soothing Harry Connick, Jr. tune.

  “Because I’ve really ruined it for him if you do. I mean some women think the chase is half the fun.”

  “Not me.” Melanie smiled again, thinking how blessed she was. “No, actually Dave and I are very much alike. That’s why we got along so well in Paris.” And that’s why we both like the same music, she could have added. But Tom already knew enough to be dangerous; he didn’t need any more ammunition. Dave would probably want to strangle Tom at all the private things he had revealed to her, but she was glad that he had. During her week of torment the old insecurities had toyed with her mind. Staring into the mirror, she felt fat and ugly again, though she knew she was not. And she felt scattered and dumb and overemotional. But now one phone call had restored her self-confidence. And her simple, humble prayer had been answered.

  “Okay, Tom. I’ll come. And let’s keep it a surprise. I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Fabulous. Your ticket will be waiting at the airport.” He gave her the airline’s gate and flight numbers and she wrote them down, astonished at all he had accomplished. “Sorry if I’ve assumed too much, but I just wanted to make it as easy as possible for you. And I really did not want you to say no. Thanks, Melanie. I understand why he said you were such a terrific person.”

  “Thanks, Tom. Oh, by the way, what should I bring? I’ve never been to Atlanta.”

  “It’s already hot and humid. Dress for comfort because we’re very casual. Well, we will probably go out for dinner Saturday night, but just something a bit dressy will be fine. Not too dressy. I mean, the kind of outfit you’d wear for dinner there.”

  “Okay.” Dinner at the best restaurant in Milton wouldn’t be dressy enough for Atlanta, she decided. But her new Paris wardrobe presented her a wide array of choices, and as soon as she hung up she flew to her closet and started mulling over her options.

  Chapter 10

  There was definitely an air of “what’s going on?” among the teachers’ buzz during their coffee break and lunch. After she had answered the anticipated questions of why she was going to Atlanta so soon after her return, she gave a simple, honest answer. She had looked everyone directly in the eye and said, “I’ve met someone, and he’s being given a surprise birthday party. I’d like to be there.”

  Everyone simply stared, totally at a loss for more questions. It was unlike Melanie to share her private life; it was even more unlike Melanie to “meet someone” and then go dashing off to … Atlanta, Georgia!

  Her mother, on the contrary, had insisted on knowing every detail, but for once Taylor, thank God, had come to her rescue. “Mom, for heaven’s sake, let her have a life,” Taylor had scolded more than once. “We want to see her happy, and I’ve never heard her voice so soft and dreamy.”

  Even her dad seemed to understand, and she noticed he had been staring more at his mother’s portrait, deep in thought.

  She left school early and arrived at the airport in plenty of time to board. True to his word, Tom had seen to it that a round-trip ticket was paid for and waiting for her at check-in. She boarded the plane in comfortable slacks, a knit top, a lightweight jacket, and loafers and did her best to nap on the flight to Atlanta.

  As the plane approached Atlanta she stared out the window in awe at the millions of lights spread out underneath the canvas of black sky. Melanie found herself wondering precisely which part of this huge city Dave lived and worked in and whether Julie would have to drive far to get to the airport. When the plane touched down, she could feel the humidity seeping into the jet at about the time the pilot informed the passengers it was a pleasant seventy-eight degrees.

  She was struck by a pang of nerves as she deplaned and walked up the concourse. As Tom had predicted, Julie was easy to spot. She was the first person in the reception line. A wide smile flew over her face when she spotted Melanie. It was obvious that Julie was a bundle of nervous energy, fidgeting as she waited, shuffling from one foot to the other, and tossing her short blond hair back from her face.

  “Melanie,” she called out in a thick southern drawl.

  “Julie?” she asked, smiling, although there was little doubt.

  As soon as she reached Julie, who was no more than five foot two, Melanie felt herself being enveloped in an affectionate
hug. “I’m so glad you came,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling.

  “Thank you. Me too,” Melanie added, returning her smile as Julie quickly ushered her down the escalator to the baggage area. “How was your trip? Long and boring of course. I just hate plane rides, don’t you?”

  Melanie opened her mouth to respond but quickly realized a reply was unnecessary because Julie plunged right on. “Last December Tom and I flew up to New York to see a Broadway show and do some Christmas shopping….”

  “How fun,” Melanie interjected, not wanting to seem void of personality, but Julie wasn’t worried about that.

  “Have you ever been to New York at Christmastime? Well, don’t bother. It’s a mad scramble, although I guess it’s worth it. The shopping was the best part, but we were disappointed in the play that had been so highly recommended to us.”

  Melanie merely smiled down at Julie, aware that it was unnecessary to try to answer every question. Julie usually answered them herself. In an amazingly short time they had retrieved her canvas bag, but then Julie turned to her with a frown of concern. “Just one?”

  “I decided to keep it simple.”

  Julie nodded, apparently seeing the logic to that. “And you had very little time to get ready, right? Well, you’ve really been a good sport about this,” she said, motioning for a skycap to pluck the bag from Melanie’s hand, although she could have managed. However, she had decided it was easier to let Julie take the lead, since she seemed to take her job seriously. Clearly, she was in charge of getting Melanie safely to … wherever they were going.

  “I’m parked right out front,” Julie said, slipping a bill to the porter then offering a blazing smile to the security guard patrolling the parked cars. Melanie watched with fascination as Julie charmed her way past all obstacles, and soon they were settled safely into her little convertible.

  “I put the top up,” Julie glanced at Melanie with a smile, as she turned the key in the ignition and they plunged into the traffic. Another blazing smile toward the man she had cut in front of, and they were off. “I know we can all be fussy about our hair. That’s why I keep mine short and simple.”