Be My Valentine

by Debbie Macomber

  Steve’s gaze followed her daughter, and then his eyes briefly linked with Dianne’s. In that split second, she let him know she wasn’t entirely pleased. He frowned slightly, but recovered before presenting the roses to Dianne’s mother.

  “For me?” Martha brought her fingertips to her mouth as though shocked by the gesture. “Oh, you shouldn’t have! Oh, my heavens, I can’t remember the last time a man gave me roses.” Reaching for the corner of her apron, she discreetly dabbed her eyes. “This is such a treat.”

  “Mother, don’t you want to put those in water?” Dianne said pointedly.

  “Oh, dear, I suppose I should. It was a thoughtful gesture, Steve. Very thoughtful.”

  “Jason, go help your grandmother.”

  Her son looked as though he intended to object, but changed his mind and obediently followed Martha into the kitchen.

  As soon as they were alone, Dianne turned on Steve. “Don’t you think you’re laying it on a little thick?” she whispered. She was so furious she was having trouble speaking clearly. “I can’t afford all this!”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I am worried. In fact I’m experiencing a good deal of distress. At the rate you’re spending my money, I’m going to have to go on an installment plan.”

  “Hush, now, before you attract everyone’s attention.”

  Dianne scowled at him. “I—”

  Steve placed his fingers over her lips. “I’ve learned a very effective way of keeping you quiet—don’t force me to use it. Kissing you so soon after my arrival might create the wrong impression.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  The way his mouth slanted upward in a slow smile made her afraid he would. “I was only doing my best to act besotted,” he said.

  “You didn’t have to spend this much money doing it. Opening my door, holding out my chair—that’s all I wanted. First you roll your eyes like you’re going into a coma and pant like a Saint Bernard, then you spend a fortune.”

  “Dinner’s ready,” Martha shouted from the kitchen.

  With one last angry glare, Dianne led him into the big kitchen. Steve moved behind Dianne’s chair and pulled it out for her. “Are you happy now?” he whispered close to her ear as she sat down.

  She nodded, thinking it was too little, too late, but she didn’t have much of an argument since she’d specifically asked for this.

  Soon the five were seated around the wooden table. Dianne’s mother said the blessing, and while she did, Dianne offered up a fervent prayer of her own. She wanted Steve to make a good impression—but not too good.

  After the buttered noodles and the stroganoff had been passed around, along with a lettuce-and-cucumber salad and homemade rolls, Jason embarked on the topic that had apparently been troubling him from the first.

  “Mom said you met at the grocery store.”

  Steve nodded. “She was blocking the aisle and I had to ask her to move her cart so I could get to the Hearty Eater Pot Pies.”

  Jason straightened in his chair, looking more than a little satisfied. “I thought it might be something like that.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Steve asked, playing innocent.

  Her son cleared his throat, glanced carefully around before answering, then lowered his voice. “You should hear Mom’s version of how you two met.”

  “More noodles?” Dianne said, shoving the bowl toward her son.

  Jill looked confused. “But didn’t you smile at Mom and say she’s perfect just the way she is?”

  Steve took a moment to compose his thoughts while he buttered his third dinner roll. Dianne recognized that he was doing a balancing act between her two children. If he said he’d commented on the low-cal frozen dinners and her figure, then he risked offending Jason, who seemed to think no man in his right mind would say something like that. On the other hand, if he claimed otherwise, he might wound Jill’s romantic little heart.

  “I’d be interested in knowing that myself,” Martha added, looking pleased that Steve had taken a second helping of her stroganoff. “Dianne’s terribly closemouthed about these things. She didn’t even mention you until the other night.”

  “To be honest,” Steve said, sitting back in his chair, “I don’t exactly recall what I said to Dianne. I remember being irritated with her for hogging the aisle, but when I asked her to move, she apologized and immediately pushed her cart out of the way.”

  Jason nodded, appeased.

  “But when I got a good look at her, I couldn’t help thinking she was the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a long while.”

  Jill sighed, mollified.

  “I don’t recall any of that,” Dianne said, reaching for another roll. She tore it apart with a vengeance and smeared butter on both halves before she realized she had an untouched roll balanced on the edge of her plate.

  “I was thinking that after dinner I’d take Jason out for a ride in the truck,” Steve said when a few minutes had passed.

  “You’d do that?” Jason nearly leapt from his chair in his eagerness.

  “I was planning to all along,” Steve explained. “I thought you’d be more interested in seeing how all the gears worked than in any gift I could bring you.”

  “I am.” Jason was so excited he could barely sit still.

  “When Jason and I come back, I’ll take you out for a spin, Dianne.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not interested, thanks.”

  Three pairs of accusing eyes flashed in her direction. It was as if she’d committed an act of treason.

  “I’m sure my daughter didn’t mean that,” Martha said, smiling sweetly at Steve. “She’s been very tired lately and not quite herself.”

  Bewildered, Dianne stared at her mother.

  “Can we go now?” Jason asked, already standing.

  “If your mother says it’s okay,” Steve said, with a glance at Dianne. She nodded, and Steve finished the last of his roll and stood.

  “I’ll have apple pie ready for you when you get back,” Martha promised, quickly ushering the two out the front door.

  As soon as her mother returned to the kitchen, Dianne asked, “What was all that about?”

  “What?” her mother demanded, feigning ignorance.

  “That I’ve been very tired and not myself lately?”

  “Oh, that,” Martha said, clearing the table. “Steve wants to spend a few minutes alone with you. It’s only natural. So I had to make some excuse for you.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Your behavior, my dear, was just short of rude. When a gentleman makes it clear he wants to spend some uninterrupted time in your company, you should welcome the opportunity.”

  “Mother, I seem to recall your saying Steve was a spawn of the devil, remember?”

  “Now that I’ve met him, I’ve had a change of heart.”

  “What about Jerome, the butcher? I thought you were convinced he was the one for me.”

  “I like Steve better. I can tell he’s a good man, and you’d be a fool to let him slip through your fingers by pretending to be indifferent.”

  “I am indifferent.”

  With a look of patent disbelief, Martha Janes shook her head. “I saw the way your eyes lit up when Steve walked into the house. You can fool some folks, but you can’t pull the wool over your own mother’s eyes. You’re falling in love with this young man, and frankly, I’m pleased. I like him.”

  Dianne frowned. If her eyes had lit up when Steve arrived, it was because she was busy trying to figure out a way to repay him for the roses and the teddy bear. What she felt for him wasn’t anything romantic. Or was it?

  Dear Lord, she couldn’t actually be falling for this guy, could she?

  The question haunted Dianne as she loaded the dishwasher.

  “Steve’s real cute,” Jill announced. Her daughter would find Attila the Hun cute, too, if he brought her a teddy bear, but Dianne resisted the impulse to say so.

  “He looks a little bit
like Hugh Jackman, don’t you think?” Jill continued.

  “I can’t say I’ve noticed.” A small lie. Dianne had noticed a lot more about Steve than she was willing to admit. Although she’d issued a fair number of complaints, he really was being a good sport about this. Of course, she was paying him, but he’d gone above and beyond the call of duty. Taking Jason out for a spin in the tow truck was one example, although why anyone would be thrilled to drive around in that contraption was something Dianne didn’t understand.

  “I do believe Steve Creighton will make you a decent husband,” her mother stated thoughtfully as she removed the warm apple pie from the oven. “In fact, I was just thinking how nice it would be to have a summer wedding. It’s so much easier to ask relatives to travel when the weather’s good. June or July would be perfect.”

  “Mother, please! Steve and I barely know each other.”

  “On the contrary,” Steve said, sauntering into the kitchen. He stepped behind Dianne’s mother and sniffed appreciatively at the aroma wafting from her apple pie. “I happen to be partial to summer weddings myself.”

  Six

  “Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a bit?” Dianne demanded as Steve eased the big tow truck out of her driveway. She was belted into the seat next to him, feeling trapped—not to mention betrayed by her own family. They had insisted Steve take her out for a spin so the two of them could have some time alone. Steve didn’t want to be alone with her, but her family didn’t know that.

  “Maybe I did come on a little strong,” Steve agreed, dazzling her with his smile.

  It was better for her equilibrium if she didn’t glance his way, Dianne decided. Her eyes would innocently meet his and he’d give her one of those heart-stopping, lopsided smiles, and something inside her would melt. If this continued much longer, she’d be nothing more than a puddle by the end of the evening.

  “The flowers and the stuffed animal I can understand,” she said stiffly, willing to grant him that much. “You wanted to make a good impression, and that’s fine, but the comment about being partial to summer weddings was going too far. It’s just the kind of thing my mother was hoping to hear from you.”

  “You’re right.”

  The fact that he was being so agreeable should have forewarned Dianne that something was amiss. She’d sensed it from the first moment she’d climbed into the truck. He’d closed the door and almost immediately something pulled wire-taut within her. The sensation was peculiar, even wistful—a melancholy pining she’d never felt before.

  She squared her shoulders and stared straight ahead, determined not to fall under his spell the way her children and her mother so obviously had.

  “As it is, I suspect Mom’s been faithfully lighting votive candles every afternoon, asking God to send me a husband. She thinks God needs her help—that’s why she goes around arranging dates for me.”

  “You’re right, of course. I should never have made that comment about summer weddings,” Steve said, “but I assumed that’s just the sort of thing a besotted man would say.”

  Dianne sighed, realizing once again that she didn’t have much of an argument. But he was doing everything in his power to make her regret that silly request.

  “Hey, where are you taking me?” she asked when he turned off her street onto a main thoroughfare.

  Steve turned his smile on her full force and twitched his thick eyebrows a couple of times for effect. “For a short drive. It wouldn’t look good if we were to return five minutes after we left the house. Your family—”

  “—will be waiting at the front door. They expect me back any minute.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “And why don’t they?” she asked, growing uneasy. This wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a ride around the block, and she’d had to be coerced into even that.

  “Because I told your mother we’d be gone for an hour.”

  “An hour?” Dianne cried, as though he’d just announced he was kidnapping her. “But you can’t do that! I mean, what about your time? Surely it’s valuable.”

  “I assumed you’d want to pay me a few extra dollars—after all, I’m doing this to create the right impression. It’s what—”

  “I know, I know,” she interrupted. “You’re just acting smitten.” The truth of the matter was that Dianne was making a fuss over something that was actually causing her heart to pound hard and fast. The whole idea of being alone with Steve appealed to her too much. That was the reason she fought it so hard. Without even trying, he’d managed to cast a spell on her family, and although she hated to admit it, he’d cast one on her, too. Steve Creighton was laughter and magic. Instinctively she knew he wasn’t another Jack. Not the type of man who would walk away from his family.

  Dianne frowned as the thought crossed her mind. It would be much easier to deal with the hand life had dealt her if she wasn’t forced to associate with men as seemingly wonderful as Steve. It was easier to view all men as insensitive and inconsiderate.

  Dianne didn’t like that Steve was proving to be otherwise. He was apparently determined to crack the hard shell around her heart, no matter how hard she tried to reinforce it.

  “Another thing,” she said stiffly, crossing her arms with resolve, but refusing to glance in his direction. “You’ve got to stop being so free with my money.”

  “I never expected you to reimburse me for those gifts,” he explained quietly.

  “I insist on it.”

  “My, my, aren’t we prickly. I bought the flowers and the toy for Jill of my own accord. I don’t expect you to pick up the tab,” he said again.

  Dianne didn’t know if she should argue with him or not. Although his tone was soft, a thread of steel ran through his words, just enough to let her know nothing she said was going to change his mind.

  “That’s not all,” she said, deciding to drop that argument for a more urgent one. She probably did sound a bit shrewish, but if he wasn’t going to be practical about this, she’d have to be.

  “You mean there’s more?” he cried, pretending to be distressed.

  “Steve, please,” she said, shocked at how feeble she sounded. She scarcely recognized the voice as her own. “You’ve got to stop being so…so wonderful,” she finally said.

  He came to a stop at a red light and turned to her, draping his arm over the back of the seat. “I don’t think I heard you right. Would you mind repeating that?”

  “You can’t continue to be so—” she paused, searching for another word “—charming.”

  “Charming,” he echoed. “Charming?”

  “To my children and my mother,” she elaborated. “The gifts were one thing. Giving Jason a ride in the tow truck was fine, too, but agreeing with my mother about summer weddings and then playing basketball with Jason—none of that was necessary.”

  “Personally, I would’ve thought your mother measuring my chest and arm length so she could knit me a sweater would bother you the most.”

  “That, too!”

  “Could you explain why this is such a problem?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? If you keep doing that sort of thing, they’ll expect me to continue dating you after the Valentine’s dinner, and, frankly, I can’t afford it.”

  He chuckled at that as if she was making some kind of joke. Only it wasn’t funny. “I happen to live on a budget—”

  “I don’t think we should concern ourselves with that,” he broke in.

  “Well, I am concerned.” She expelled her breath sharply. “One date! That’s all I can afford and that’s all I’m interested in. If you continue to be so…so…”

  “Wonderful?” he supplied.

  “Charming,” she corrected, “then I’ll have a whole lot to answer for when I don’t see you again after Saturday.”

  “So you want me to limit the charm?”

  “Please.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, and his eyes sparked with laughter, which they seemed to do a good deal of t
he time. If she hadn’t been so flustered, she might have been pleased that he found her so amusing.

  “Thank you.” She glanced pointedly at her watch. “Shouldn’t we head back to the house?”

  “No.”

  “No? I realize you told my mother we’d be gone an hour, but that really is too long and—”

  “I’m taking you to Jackson Point.”

  Dianne’s heart reacted instantly, zooming into her throat and then righting itself. Jackson Point overlooked a narrow water passage between the Kitsap Peninsula and Vashon Island. The view, either at night or during the day, was spectacular, but those who came to appreciate it at night were generally more interested in each other than the glittering lights of the island and Seattle farther beyond.

  “I’ll take the fact that you’re not arguing with me as a positive sign,” he said.

  “I think we should go back to the house,” she stated with as much resolve as she could muster. Unfortunately it didn’t come out sounding very firm. The last time she’d been to Jackson Point had been a lifetime ago. She’d been a high-school junior and madly in love for the first time. The last time.

  “We’ll go back in a little while.”

  “Steve,” she cried, fighting the urge to cry, “why are you doing this?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I want to kiss you again.”

  Dianne pushed her hair away from her face with both hands. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Her voice wavered, just like her teenage son’s.

  Before she could come up with an argument, Steve pulled off the highway and down the narrow road that led to the popular lookout. She hadn’t wanted to think about that kiss they’d shared. It had been a mistake. Dianne knew she’d disappointed Steve—not because of the kiss itself, but her reaction to it. He seemed to be waiting for her to admit how deeply it had affected her, but she hadn’t given him the satisfaction.

  Now, she told herself, he wanted revenge.

  Her heart was still hammering when Steve stopped the truck and turned off the engine. The lights across the water sparkled in welcome. The closest lights were from Vashon Island, a sparsely populated place accessible only by ferry. The more distant ones came from West Seattle.