The Valentine’s Day Disaster

by Lori Wilde

  “And you always follow the rules when no one else does.” His voice was weighted, with both amusement and exasperation.

  “And you were dead set on breaking all of them.” When she was in high school, she’d primly told him that the rules were there for a reason, but now a bittersweet melancholia settled over her. She wished she had let him carve their names in the tree.

  He dropped his hand and stepped to the south side of the tree, settled his arms on his hips, stared at the names carved there of all the ­couples who’d been in love. Jesse and Flynn. Sam and Emma. Travis and Sarah. Caitlyn and Gideon. It was a virtual who’s who of local lovers.

  Intrigued, she moved to stand beside him. “What are you looking for?”

  His mouth twitched but he didn’t look at her. He was busy with his search.

  Suspicion sneaked up on her. “Did you carve our name in the tree after I asked you not to?” Part of her was thrilled at the idea that he might have gone to all the trouble, while the good girl part of her was appalled to think he’d marred the tree.

  He didn’t answer, but took car keys from his pocket. There was a tiny flashlight on the key chain. He turned in on, flashed the light over the bark. “Ah,” he said. “Here it is.”

  “I should have known you couldn’t resist breaking the rules.” She inched closer, her body brushing up against his back as she peered up to where he was shining the light. “Where is it? I don’t see our names carved there.”

  “Keep looking.”

  She squinted, reached out a finger to trace the names, Jon loves Rebekka, the original sweethearts who were part of the town founders, and the first to carve their names into the tree.

  Sesty found other names. ­People she knew well. Rule breakers. Tree defacers. All in the name of love. Now, because Josh had carved her name there, she was one of those rule-­breakers too. Why did that feel so exciting?

  “I’m sorry, but I still don’t see it.”

  “It’s right under your nose, Ses.”

  Huh? No matter how she searched, she did not see their names carved into the tree. Wait a minute. What was that?

  There, in a flat bark-­free area of the tree, just above Jon’s declaration of love for Rebekka, she spied faded red nail polish. The lacquered lettering was thin and patches of it had flaked off, so she could just barely make it out. Josh loves Sesty.

  Loves.

  Oh my. She put a palm to her mouth and a hard knot bloomed in the dead center of her chest.

  “I didn’t carve it,” he said. “I promised you I wouldn’t carve our names in the tree, so I stole a bottle of my sister’s nail polish and I painted it there instead.”

  “The years have almost worn it away.” She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, her fingers still tracing the lettering.

  “But not quite.”

  “We were so silly then. Thinking our puppy love would last forever.”

  “Nothing lasts forever.” He sounded glib.

  Typical Josh. Nothing got to him. Everything rolled right off his back, but when she looked up, she saw a what-­might-­have-­happened-­if-­I’d-­chosen-­a-­different-­path expression on his face. The longing and regret in his eyes matched the tightening of her throat. Could he see it on her too?

  Thrown off guard, she ducked her head, stepped back. “I better be getting home. Tomorrow is a busy day.”

  “Zesty Sesty,” he whispered.

  He was standing above her, one hand resting on the bark of the Sweetheart Tree; his head tilted downward, his eyes twinkling from the blink of Valentine lights. On his face was an expression of raw, honest sexual hunger.

  He wanted her.

  Sesty gulped. She wanted him too.

  Oh no, no, no. You’re on the rebound. Josh is water under the bridge. He’s—­

  But that’s as far as she got in her mental argument.

  He hooked two fingers underneath her chin, lifted her face up to his, lowered his head and kissed her.

  She did not resist. In fact, if she were being quite honest, she met him halfway. Although she wasn’t really ready to admit that to herself, but her arms slipped around his neck as his mouth branded hers. She inhaled the rich taste of him, parted her lips.

  Sweet Lord, but he tasted sensational.

  A banquet after a starvation diet wouldn’t have tasted this good. She had to have more. Greedy, greedy. Surely it was a sin to feel this greedy.

  His tongue touched hers, hot and searching.

  Sesty sagged against him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. It had been so long since she’d felt the hard planes of his body against her curves, but it was a sensation she’d never forgotten. Her first time had been with this man. She’d given him her virginity without regret and she would always remember him, no matter where she ended up or whom she eventually married or how old she got.

  Josh was her first. There could be no changing that. She didn’t want to change it.

  Don’t get swept away on emotions. You know how fickle feelings can be. You loved him once and mourned the loss of him for way longer than you should have. Do you really want to get back on that ride?

  Yeah, the argument sounded good in theory, but she wasn’t listening. All she could hear was the steady pounding of their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

  The kiss grew deeper, slower, a quiet inner pool amid the hard pull of sexual current flowing between them. His masterful tongue teased, drawing responses from her body that she never thought possible. She felt as if she were leaping off the old suspension bridge they used to dive off into the Brazos River back when they were in high school. Hitting the surface with a shocking smack of impact, falling into the languid arms of the water.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugged lightly, holding him in place. The world shrank to the width if their mouths. She knew every part of him. Had been here before, and while it felt hauntingly familiar, there was the spicy undertones of a stranger.

  Ten years lay between. They’d both changed. Grown. Had experiences without each other. The sensation was novel, disconcerting, surprising, and oddly comfortable. How could a man be both known and mysterious?

  He increased the pressure. Their bodies were molded to each other. His rock hard, hers moist and pliant. He made her feel sexy and wanted and accepted and needed and valued. It was a heady experience, and she had to ask herself some hard questions.

  Was this merely a blast from the past? A melancholy trip down memory lane? Or was she secretly hoping for more and setting herself up for heartache?

  But in the throes of passion, she could not answer such weighted questions. She gave herself into the moment, fully experiencing everything it had to offer. Requiring nothing from this space in time except to enjoy herself.

  Finally, Josh pulled away from her, leaving her raw and achy and wanting more.

  Dammit, she should have been the first one to pull away. She stepped back, straightened, and combed her fingers through her hair. Tried to look cool and completely unruffled.

  His breathing was ragged, more ragged than hers. Good. She wasn’t the only one who’d been thrown for a loop.

  He cupped her cheek with his palm, stared deeply into her eyes. “We’re in trouble here.”

  “Not really,” she denied glibly. “It was just a kiss. We’ve kissed before.”

  “This one was different.”

  “Only because we’re older, more experienced. It’s not—­”

  He kissed her again, sucking her into his orbit. Was this how all his fan girls felt?

  She splayed a palm against his chest, pushed back. “You gotta stop doing that.”

  “Why?”

  “We hate all things romantic, remember?”

  “This doesn’t have to be the least bit romantic, Ses.”

  “Hmm, I fear we’re a lit
tle too late for that. Walking in the park, finding where you painted our names on the Sweetheart Tree. This is bordering on so damn sweet it could rot our teeth.”

  “If you think this is sweet, then I’ve been doing it wrong,” he said.

  And by damn, he kissed her again and there was nothing sweet about it.

  A moan slipped from her lips and escaped into the cold night air. His body heat scalded her, invaded her, as relentless as that amazing tongue. He opened his mouth wider around hers, drank her up.

  This was going to end up someplace they could very well live to regret. If she didn’t want Valentine’s Day to be forever connected to this night, she needed to put a stop to this.

  Right now.

  But she simply could not bring herself to let go of him. It felt too good. Maybe she could do casual sex. Why not?

  Because this is Josh we’re talking about.

  His hands slipped up underneath her coat, his palms sliding up her back. Big hands. Capable hands. Hands that gripped a steering wheel and kept expensive cars on a track at two hundred miles an hour.

  Just one more taste and she’d hit the brakes.

  His body grew harder, letting her know exactly how much he wanted her. How was it possible for a man to be so hard? Scary, his arousal. But exciting too. Her self-­esteem had taken a battering from Chad’s betrayal, but Josh’s desire made her feel powerful. Not only that, but she longed to prove Chad wrong. That she was good in bed. At least with Josh.

  He nuzzled her neck. Dear God, he smelled so good. Masculine. Woodsy. His mouth claimed hers once more. One hand pushed up the back of her neck, his fingers spearing through her hair. The other wrapped tightly around her waist as if he would never let her go.

  Without even realizing it, she’d been dreaming of a moment like this ever since they’d broken up. A sweet reunion. Reunited. All misunderstandings cleared up. Everything forgiven.

  You’re romanticizing this. You’re wounded. He’s wounded. You’re taking solace from each other, nothing more. If this was meant to be, do you think it really would have taken him ten years to show up?

  Yeah, yeah, she knew that, but old fantasies died hard.

  Except this reality was even better than those she’d dreamed. He was so hot and welcoming, comforting as a fire in the fireplace on a stormy winter night. Her high school sweetheart was in her arms once more.

  “Do you . . .” She gathered her courage and stared straight into his eyes. “. . . want to come home with me?”

  Before he could answer, headlights cut through the night, spotlighting them.

  The car stopped on the road beside the park.

  A siren gave a short blast. Blue and red lights flashed.

  Oh, crap. It was the cops.

  Chapter Six

  THE NEXT MORNING, Jana arrived at the office the same time as Sesty. Her assistant carried a backpack over her left shoulder, her tablet computer in one hand and an extra tall cup of coffee from Perks in the other.

  Sesty eyed the cup longingly. Why did coffee made at a coffee shop taste better than what she brewed at home?

  “Somebody was busy last night,” Jana said in a singsong voice.

  “Yes.” Sesty glanced around at the cutouts she and Josh had stacked around the office last night to dry. “We completed all the set designs. Another item we tick off our to-­do list.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” The look in Jana’s maverick eyes told Sesty something was up and her assistant approved of it. “I heard you got a ticket for kissing Josh Langtree in the park.”

  She bit back a groan. “I didn’t get a—­”

  “Hey, don’t be ashamed. Chad hasn’t put a ring on it or anything.” Jana shot a spiky glance at the third finger of Sesty’s left hand. “A girl has needs, and if Chad’s not meeting them . . .”

  “We broke up.”

  “What?”

  “Chad and I broke up.”

  “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Two weeks ago. Chad dumped me for the new barista at Perks.”

  “Skank!”

  “Chad or the barista or me?”

  “Certainly not you.”

  “I was kissing Josh in the park.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Does that make me a skank?”

  Jana plunked her backpack down on the rolltop desk. “You worry too much about what other ­people think of you.”

  Sesty made a pretzel of her arms and laid them across her chest. “I don’t feel good about it.”

  “What?”

  “The kissing thing.”

  “Why not?” Jana wrinkled her nose. “Is Langtree a terrible kisser?”

  “No. He’s a great kisser. Maybe the best kisser ever.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “He was my first love.”

  “Ah-­ha.” Jana raised a finger like Sherlock Holmes ferreting out a clue. “You’re afraid of falling in love with him all over again.”

  “We do live in Twilight with that stupid legend that if you throw a coin into the fountain and wish for your one true love, you’ll be reunited.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “No! I did not have sex with him.”

  “Not that, although, why not? Did you ever throw a coin into the fountain and wish to be reunited with him?”

  “Fifth amendment.”

  Jane took a sip from her coffee. “You are so screwed.”

  “Come on, that legend isn’t real.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who threw the coin into the fountain, not me.”

  “I’m such an idiot.” Sesty pounded her forehead with the heel of her palm. “It could never work between us.”

  “Why not?” Jana asked reasonably.

  “He is who he is.”

  “And who is he?”

  “A NASCAR star.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Sesty shrugged. “You know.”

  “Oh no, I’m not letting you get away with this. You are not claiming he’s out of your league, because he’s not. He would be damn lucky to have you.” Jana bobbed her head so fiercely her dreadlocks shook.

  “Thanks for the loyalty, but I’m talking about his career. Josh takes risks for a living—­”

  “And you’re seriously risk averse.”

  Sesty pressed three fingers to her lips, took a deep breath. “It’s why we split up in the first place.”

  “So stop kissing him.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Sure you can. It’s called self-­control, and you’ve got more than a monk in a monastery.”

  Sesty paced her way around the room, skirting the new teddy bear cutout with his pristine face. “I can’t get involved with Josh.”

  Jana plunked down in the desk chair and watched her like she was the lead actress in a telenovella. “So don’t.”

  “My home is here. His life is on the road. It would never work out.”

  “Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”

  “It’s just Valentine’s Day fever. I’m falling under the spell of the hype.”

  Jana’s dreadlocks trembled again “Easy enough to do around this place.”

  “It’s ridiculous. Just say no, right?”

  “Unless you want to say yes.”

  “I don’t . . . want to say yes.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I’m lying, I do.”

  “Then go to it.”

  “Aren’t you going to give me any useful advice?”

  Jana pantomimed kicking Sesty’s butt. “Quit obsessing about him and get back to work.”

  “Thank you. I needed that.”

  “You’re welcome. I fully expect you to kick my ass if I ever fall for this
sop.”

  “Will do.” Sesty straightened, dusted off her hands. “Did you get the issues straightened out with the stage manager?”

  Jana pressed her lips together as if suppressing a smile and her eyes lit up. “It’s handled. No budget increase needed.”

  “The cleavage worked, huh?”

  “That and my natural charm.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “I convinced him to get creative and find a way around the union rules.”

  “You are my hero,” Sesty said. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  Jana consulted her tablet computer. “We need to select the music that will be playing for each bachelor as he steps onto the auction block. I’ve already got a few suggestions.” She passed the list she’d made on the tablet to Sesty. “Ain’t No Other Man,” “Wild Thing,” “Hot Stuff,” and “Burning Love.”

  “Ugh.” Sesty sighed. “More romantic stuff we have to wade through.”

  “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

  “After this event is over, I’m going to be bulletproof. Teflon. Love will bounce right off me.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “Is it hot in here or just me?” Sesty slipped off her jacket, moved to open the window.

  “Weatherman says it’s supposed to be freakishly hot today. Seventy degrees or something weird, and humid to boot.”

  “In February?”

  “Crazy, I know.”

  “That’s good I guess, if the warmth holds out. ­People will be more likely to show up for the auction if it’s not cold. What does Saturday’s weather forecast look like?” Sesty tapped her chin.

  Jane pulled a face that looked as if she’d bitten down on aluminum foil. “You’re going to hate this.”

  “Rain?”

  “Into each life some rain must fall. Although I think the exact words the weatherman used were ‘winter thunderstorm.’ ”

  “Seriously?” Don’t whine. You’re not a whiner. “Okay, it’s not a big deal. All the more reason for ­people to come in out of the weather and ogle our bachelors, right?”

  “There you go. That’s the spirit. The old Sesty is back. Looks like Josh’s lips gave you the attitude adjustment you needed.” Jana pumped a fist. “Rock on, Josh.”