Love
Lessons
Kari Lee Harmon
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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LOVE LESSONS
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2012 by Kari Lee Harmon
http://www.karileetownsend.com
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
Other Books By Kari Lee Townsend
Cozy Mysteries (Berkley Prime Crime)
Tempest In The Tea Leaves (A Fortune Teller Mystery)
Corpse In The Crystal Ball (A Fortune Teller Mystery)
Romances (writing as Kari Lee Harmon)
Destiny Wears Spurs
Project Produce
Humorous Women’s Fiction (writing as Kari Lee Harmon)
Sleeping In The Middle (The Comfort Club series)
Middle Grade
Talk To The Hand (Digital Diva series - Book 1)
Rise of the Phenoteens (Digital Diva series - Book 2)
Let Freedom Ring (Digital Diva series - Book 3)
Short Stories
Love Lessons
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my husband and real life hero, Brian Townsend. You still make my heart go pitter pat and keep the adventure alive.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost I want to thank my children: Brandon, Josh, Matt and Emily who put up with a lot when Mommy’s on deadline. Thanks for understanding.
Second, I want to thank Christine Witthohn of Book Cents Literary Agency, my fabulous agent. And as always a special thanks to Kelly Ferrara who makes the world’s most fabulous covers!
Next, I want to thank my special peeps, Barbara Witek, Lizbeth Lipperman, and Dani LaBue for always being there and making writing fun.
Last but never least I want to thank my extended family: the Harmons, the Townsends, and the Russos.
LESSON ONE
Love isn’t always a bed of roses,
or any type of flower, turns out.
Who knew?
“Oh, my God, Gavin, this is so incredibly sweet, I think I’m going to cry!” I said on Monday afternoon as I charged through the door of my best friend’s classroom.
Gavin worked in the archaeology department of Dreamers University in upstate New York, and every time I entered his room, a familiar dusty old smell mixed with musky cologne assaulted my senses, making me smile. He sat behind his large oak desk, cluttered with artifacts he’d uncovered on one of his digs, and grinned at the bouquet of Tiger Lilies I held.
“I thought so,” he said, his dark eyes crinkling, the crow’s feet deepening in his constantly tanned skin. He hoisted his beat-up boots atop the clutter and crossed his khaki clad legs at the ankles. He folded his arms with the sleeves rolled up over his wrinkled baby-blue button down shirt and winked at me.
The man lived outdoors, craving adventure, whereas I spent my days crunching numbers in the math department, a bit obsessed with my work. Total opposites in every way--my hair, skin and eyes were as pale as his were dark--but we’d known each other forever and had clicked from the moment we first met. He tried to pull me away from the office, to get me to live a little. While I helped him learn to be still, enjoy the quiet moments.
We were good for each other, and I’d never had a better best friend. But right now his words filtered through my distracted brain, and I gasped, ready to throttle my so-called best friend. “You mean you knew about this and didn’t tell me? There’s no note. Who put them on my desk? You have to tell me. Can’t you see I’m dying here?”
He stared at me for a long moment and then dropped his boots back to the worn linoleum floor. “I don’t have a clue, Mandy. I just saw them there and knew they were your favorite. Guess you have a secret admirer.”
A little thrill zipped through me. I loved a good puzzle, the challenge of the unknown, and the satisfaction of figuring it out. “Give me a minute. I can solve this.” I paced. My black pin-striped skirt whispered against my nylons, and my high heels clicked like the second hand on a clock with every step. I thought about all the possible equations and came to one conclusion.
“Aha, that’s it.” I faced Gavin and tucked a strand of hair up into the knot at the back of my head. “It has to be Wally.” I pushed my glasses higher and beamed at him.
Gavin’s face scrunched up, the cleft in his chin vanishing beneath his five o’clock shadow. “You honestly think Wussy Wally in the psych department sent you flowers?”
“It could happen.” I plopped my free hand on my hip. “Don’t be so judgmental. He’s actually quite nice. He must have seen the bouquet I bought myself about a month ago when he came into my classroom to call me to a meeting. It has to be him.” I grabbed Gavin’s large, calloused hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come on. I’ll be too embarrassed to go alone. You have to help me thank him.”
“Oh no. I really don’t think--”
“Then don’t think. Just give me your moral support.” I nailed him with the iciest blue laser beam I could muster. “That’s what best friends do, remember?”
He blew out a big breath, obviously remembering last spring when I’d let him drag me all over the city on some ridiculous wild goose chase. We participated in a scavenger hunt, so he could win a free trip to Egypt. We won, and he’d been trying all year to get me to celebrate by going with him. No way would I let him drag me around on another crazy adventure, in another country, no less.
“Fine, but after this, consider us even,” he relented.
“Not a chance, pal. You’re going to have to give me a lot more than one day for us to be even.”
“Lead the way, pal.” He smirked.
I laughed and blew him a kiss. He just rolled his eyes and nudged me toward Wussy Wally’s office. Only, Wally wasn’t there. According to his associate, he’d left early to take his new girlfriend to dinner. Girlfriend? My excitement waned a smidgen over drawing the wrong conclusion.
Because that pretty much ruled out good ole Wally.
LESSON TWO
Romance isn’t necessarily music to your ears,
and love is most definitely not in the air.
Go figure.
Same time, same place the next day, I received gift number two from my Secret Admirer, with no note again. A CD of my favorite song, oldie but goodie, Love is in the Air, by Australian artist, John Paul Young. I’d been searching for that original 1978 version since forever, but that was pretty much his only worldwide hit, and I’d never been able to find the CD.
Appar
ently my Secret Admirer had some pull.
I clutched the CD to my chest. Who would know how much finding this CD meant to me? My mind whirled like numbers on an adding machine. I sucked in a breath as the answer hit me hard. I knew who my admirer was. My heart thumped hard as I ran out of my room, down the hall, around the corner and into another classroom.
“Oh my gosh, Gavin, look!” I thrust out my hand holding the CD and tapping the highlighted song with my manicured nail.
He studied the cover and then raised dark eyes to mine. “Love is in the Air. Cool. Haven’t you been looking for that since I’ve known you?”
My smile came slow and sweet, and I wagged my brows. “That’s right. And now I know exactly who my Secret Admirer is.”
His eyes widened and he stopped tipping back in his seat, lowering the wooden chair legs to the floor. “You do?”
“Well, sure. It has to be someone who knows me really well.”
“I agree.” He grinned, the cleft in his chin sinking deeper. “Glad you finally figured it out because you were starting to exhaust me.”
“Oh, we’re not done yet.”
“Yeah?” He unfolded his long body from his chair, straightened to his full height of six-foot-four, and took a step toward me.
I patted his leather-vest covered chest. “I need you, you know that.”
He covered my hand with his own and gave it a little squeeze. “I need you, too, babe.”
Of course he did. He always needed my help with something because he knew I couldn’t refuse him anything. Except traveling to Egypt, that is. “All right, fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll help you in a minute--so long as it’s not another scavenger hunt--but first you have to help me.”
His eyes seemed to lose a bit of their shine, and he dropped his hand. “I didn’t mean... never mind. Help with what?” he asked, sounding weary. That was a first. Gavin Malone was never weary, or tired, or slow at, well, anything. He usually steam-rolled ahead on the Malone Express. I’d have to make sure he took time out to rest, just as soon as he helped me put the mystery of who my secret admirer was to bed, literally.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him after me. “Help me with thanking Perry for giving me the CD, silly. I need you to drive me.”
Gavin dug in his heels, pulling me to a jarring stop, then he gaped at me. “Pansy Perry down at Perry’s Entertainment Emporium? You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“No I’m not shitting you, as vulgar as that sounds. Since I pretty much live at the Emporium when I’m not at work, I’d say Perry knows me very well. He knows I’ve been searching that store for years, and I wouldn’t call Perry a pansy.” I crossed my arms. “In fact, I wouldn’t call anyone a pansy. It’s not very nice.”
Gavin leaned in close and poked me in the chest just below my collarbone. “He’s a purebred pansy, through and through, and you know it.”
“Just because he’s into fashion and has a knack for decorating, unlike someone else I know,” I poked him right back, “doesn’t mean he’s a pansy.” Chewing my bottom lip, I paused for a minute, snatched the keys to Gavin’s jeep that were dangling out of his pants pocket, and took off down the hall. That would get his attention.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he bellowed. “You don’t even have your license.”
“That’s why I need you to drive me, but if you aren’t going to cooperate, then I’m borrowing your car.”
He caught up to me in a few short strides and grabbed my hips to slow me down. My stomach flipped, and I made a mental note not to order the spicy chicken again for lunch.
“You are not driving Bertha. Let’s just say she requires a careful touch,” he said, walking behind me.
“More like she’s a piece of junk.” I stopped walking and turned to face him. “When are you ever going to trade her in?”
“Never.” He looked both shocked and appalled. “We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Trust me, some things are not worth the effort.” I shook my head.
He stared at me for a moment, and for once, I couldn’t read his expression.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing, I just happen to disagree.” He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “Some things are worth everything. I would no more trade her in than I would trade you in.”
“Well, I would hope not.” Now I was the one appalled. What was up with him these last couple days? He must be going through something because he was acting really weird. “No one else would put up with your crazy antics,” I pointed out. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend.”
“Right,” was all he said, then he glanced at his watch. “What time does the Emporium close?”
“Five.”
He snatched the keys from my hand and sighed. “Then let’s roll. We’ve got five minutes.”
Only, five minutes wasn’t enough.
Perry waved as he drove off--scratch that--rode off with his mom in the driver’s seat. According to his co-worker, Perry still lived at home, and he had a date tonight. A date with his boyfriend, that is. Guess he wasn’t my secret admirer.
In fact, he wasn’t into girls at all.
LESSON THREE
A wine by any other name would not taste as sweet,
and a foot in your mouth tastes even worse.
“I don’t believe it!” I squealed, spinning around in a circle on Wednesday afternoon.
“Don’t believe what?” Gavin asked, waltzing into my classroom and resting a hip against my desk like he owned the joint. I had a good mind to remind him just who was boss of this domain, but I was too excited.
Refusing to let him distract me, I focused on the object displayed on the center of my desk. “These gifts just keep getting better and better.”
Gift number three was the best so far. I loved wine. Red, white, California, NY, it didn’t matter. Although in all my years as a wine connoisseur, there had only been one wine I would deem worthy to be my favorite. A rare chardonnay. I picked up the bottle and looked at the label a second time to be sure I hadn’t read it wrong.
“I mean, how did he know? You can’t find this wine in the U.S. It had to have come from Germany, and it costs a fortune. This is too much.”
Gavin shrugged, but his eyes were so intense. A bizarre chill skittered through me. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Are you kidding me?” I adjusted my glasses and stared at him. “I love it! I should refuse it, I really should, but God, do I have to?”
He frowned. “You’re not going to, are you? I mean, who are you going to refuse, anyway?”
My eyes widened, and my face broke out into a huge smile. “That’s right.” I hugged him, smelling clean soap and some indescribable manly scent that was pure Gavin. What was wrong with me? Clearing my throat, I took a step back and refocused. “You’re brilliant. I mean, how can I refuse, right? I have no idea who sent it, after all.”
“Well, you shouldn’t anyway.” Gavin hooked his thumbs through the beltloops on the waistband of his pants and stared at the floor. “This guy obviously put a lot of thought into that gift.”
“Exactly, but how did he know?”
“Let’s consider this then.” Gavin flipped a dark curl off his forehead and stared at the ceiling as though in deep thought. “Think about it. This gift is more unique than the others.” His gaze collided with mine. “Not that many men would know this wine is your favorite. Seems to me it should narrow the list down quite a bit, Einstein.”
“Ha ha! Seriously, though, you have a point.” I studied the wine, my mind deciphering the plausibility of various scenarios. “Hmmm. Well, let me think ...” I grabbed his forearm as the only logical conclusion slammed into me “... oh, my God, I know who it is!”
“You do?” One dark brow lifted, and his lips twisted into a cockeyed smile. He turned his palm up and wrapped his fingers around my forearm.
I ignored the odd tingling where his fingers rubbed over my skin and the goosebumps that popped up along my flesh
as I said, “Of course. Why didn’t I see it before? I feel like such an idiot. I mean, it’s obvious.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. There’s no way you could have known for sure. Admittedly, I didn’t think you’d take this long, but still--”
“I know, right? Mason used to have the biggest crush on me when we were in high school. I guess he still does.”
Gavin pulled his arm free from mine and scrubbed a large, calloused hand over his whisker-covered, chiseled face, then his eyes questioned mine. “Wait a minute. You think your secret admirer is your older brother’s best friend?”
“Why not?” I puckered my brow. “I’m not exactly a toad, for Pete’s sake.”
An odd glossiness covered his eyes, and his gaze swept over me from head to toe. “No, you’re far from a toad, but Mason is no prince. Besides, he’s a marine. As in, he’s off serving our country, far far away.”
“Serving our country in Germany. He could very easily have sent the wine from there. Hurry up, give me your phone.” I held out my hand and wiggled my fingers.
“My phone?” Gavin scoffed. “Use your own damn phone to call your boyfriend.” His voice came out in a sneer. What on earth did he have against Mason?
I lifted one shoulder and gave him a sheepish grin. “I would, but my phone is dead.”
He shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep that blasted thing charged?”
“Blah, blah, blah, Dad. Help a friend out and let me use your phone, would ya?” I batted my lashes and puckered my lips in a pout. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
A strange gleam entered his eyes, almost predatory like. “Oh, you’re going to owe me big by the time you figure all this out.” He dug his fully charged phone out of his deep cargo pocket and handed it to me. “And I choose to collect by making you go to Egypt with me.” His dark eyes sparkled once again.
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