A Valentine for Harlequin's Anniversary

by Catherine Mann

  At least she hadn’t received a call or letter from her stalker since the McDonald’s incident. Of course Vince took that as all the more reason to stick close to her because he figured his presence had deterred the jerk.

  Outside, the noise eased, the crowd dispersed into the crisp night and Vince still kept her close. “Christ Almighty, lady, you sure know the way to a guy’s heart.”

  She warned herself not to take his words too literally after believing him before when he’d told her she was the one for him, forever. She’d been fool enough to risk her bruised heart again and invest in a stack of Bride magazines. And it wasn’t just the beak-up that hurt, but not hearing from him the whole time he was deployed, day in and day out fearing the worst. She knew well the pain of loving someone who died too young.

  Sheesh. She needed to shake the morbid thoughts or she would never get him to talk. “I figured since you missed the NFL season while you were in Iraq, you might enjoy this all the more.”

  He tensed beside her, thick corded muscles bunching visibly under his jersey. Then, slowly, the muscles smoothed again. “Thank you. You were right.”

  “I imagine a lot of things were tough over there.”

  His head dipped to the side as he studied her through narrowed brown eyes. “Are you trying to shrink me? ‘Cause I thought your PhD was in engineering, not psychology.”

  She would never get her answers if she didn’t push for them. “You said you broke up to keep me from losing it if you died. Sounds like you were trying to shrink me too.”

  He stopped by his pick-up, planting his hands on either side of her, cool truck at her back and hot Vince in front of her. “Can you honestly say you weren’t torn apart when your husband died? Do you realize you’ve never even said his name in all the time we’ve dated?”

  No. That couldn’t be right.

  But it was. Just remembering the pain of losing someone she’d loved that much…Ohmigod, the world went wobbly under her feet.

  Maybe Vince was right to question whether she was cut out to be a military wife. Sure her husband had died of a fluke brain tumor, but with Vince she would have to worry about health catastrophes and an enemy missile.

  “Of course I was devastated. I loved him.” She forced herself to say the name, “Adam.”

  Okay, she’d said his name, but the ache in her chest stayed. Because of his death right? Not because of the horrifying image of Vince gone.

  Pain, fear and yes, wounded pride from Vince’s rejection bubbled bottled words free. “Yes, I loved Adam. I wouldn’t have married him otherwise. Love is the only reason to get married.”

  Whoops. Didn’t that sound like a fishing expedition?

  Vince stayed silent. Ouch.

  She started to duck under his arm. He rested a hand on her shoulder to stop her, finally meeting her eyes with as much raw emotion in his gaze as she felt churning inside her, like acid eating away at her heart.

  “Kenzie,” he paused, swallowed hard before continuing, “my dad was military—Army Delta. He died on a mission. I saw what it did to my mother for years afterward. I can’t risk doing that to you.”

  Had she dismissed his earlier explanation a little too quickly? Sure on the surface it sounded too simplistic but only because she hadn’t taken the time—or risk—to dig deeper into how it must have hurt him to watch his mother suffer. “Then by that reasoning we definitely shouldn’t pursue a relationship.”

  “Not a problem. As soon as my commitment to the Air Force is up, I’m getting out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  McKenzie couldn’t imagine Vince out of uniform.

  Well, technically, she could envision him gloriously naked. And didn’t that make her heart race faster than her brain through a quadratic equation? Not a wise thing when they were standing in a crowded parking lot after an arena football game.

  Grateful for the bracing support of Vince’s truck behind her, she tried to wrap her brain around his announcement that he was hanging up his flight suit forever. She certainly didn’t want him making that sacrifice for her.

  Turning away from his call to serve would only bring resentment later in their relationship. “It’s really sweet of you to offer, but you should think this over.”

  “I’m serious, Kenzie. I’m not backing down or away. I want you and our baby in my life, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you comfortable with that.”

  He sounded serious, certainly looked it, the sincerity in his eyes shining brighter than the halogen lights illuminating the night. But she kept thinking of all the little ways her husband used to suggest she change—be more outgoing and yeah her favorite color red was nice, but take a chance on a something else.

  Vince needed to be true to himself or he would resent her as—heaven help her through the guilt—she’d sometimes resented her husband.

  She shook her head. “This isn’t the right way. Do you really want to stop flying?”

  His face blanked. “I can still fly in the civilian world.”

  “But is that what you want to do? Is that how you see yourself being happy?”

  “I’m thinking of our happiness.” He reached beside her to open the door, a smile filling his face if not his chocolate brown eyes. “How about some ice cream for the pregnant lady?”

  Subject closed. Her bulldog of an ex-lover had clammed up again.

  What was wrong with her that she wanted to shake him right now? He was being a prince, attentive, romantic. Still, something was off, missing, and darn it, she wanted it all.

  And that scared her when she already knew how much it hurt to lose everything.

  Two days later, Vince sprawled on his sofa with the Valentine’s book open, thumbing through for ideas while McKenzie showered—as if he hadn’t been tortured enough lately.

  Their fourth date to the arena football game had started so well—and had ended flatter than a bombed out munitions dump. He’d forged ahead, but their fifth date had sucked worse, from start to finish.

  He’d been so jazzed to snag rail-side seats on a dinner cruise. Which actually turned out to be fortuitous since she’d spent the evening hurling.

  He’d never felt so helpless. During the ride back to shore, he could only rub her neck while she hung her head over the side, praying the nausea wouldn’t return. She’d refused the ship’s doctor’s offer to take her to the infirmary. The last thing she wanted was to be below deck. Fresh air helped.

  At least it wasn’t food poisoning, just an old fashioned case of motion sickness, and she couldn’t take anything for it since she was pregnant.

  Rather than gaining progress, he knew he was losing airspeed fast. And it was tough to think of a way to recover with McKenzie in the shower—naked and soaping herself. His eyes closed, blocking out everything but the image of her ivory skin, the sweet curve of her backside as she bent—

  The book. Focus on the book and date ideas before he sprinted for her and her loofah.

  Hot air balloon ride? Nope. No more motion sickness. Love notes throughout the house? Too much like the letter-writing creep.

  He should be glad they hadn’t heard from the guy. Hopefully the cretin had backed off now that McKenzie had a man in her life again. But still, Vince couldn’t shake the sense that the dude might be secretly seething, jealous enough to act.

  Edgy, Vince slammed the book closed and reached for his laptop on the coffee table. Maybe he needed to take a break from thinking about dates and catch up on his freaking e-mail. He never went two days without checking, for God’s sake. This mess with McKenzie was really screwing with his mind.

  Logging on, he clicked his mailbox icon—and yeah, the number confirmed his suspicion of a couple of days ago that he’d been big-time spammed. How freaking obnoxious. The list scrolled out with the same anonymous address. He started to hit delete, but the identical headers stopped him cold.

  You don’t deserve her, echoed down his screen.

  Yeah, he already knew that, but it didn’t stop
the cold rage searing through him over what he knew had to be emails from the pervert stalking McKenzie.

  The telephone ringing broke through his haze of anger. He shook his head to clear the fog, or at least part it enough to function. He reached for his cordless on the coffee table…and got a dial tone. The ringing continued.

  From McKenzie’s purse.

  Vince bolted from the sofa and yanked her cell phone out. Caller unknown. He saw pure red.

  He jammed the on-button with his thumb and barked into the receiver, “Listen up you bastard. If you come near McKenzie, I’m going to nail your ass to the wall!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  McKenzie wrapped a towel around her hair, as well as one around her body, and wondered if some subconscious slip had led her to forget her robe.

  How weird was it to worry about Vince seeing her in a towel when he’d seen her in so much less? Awareness tingled through her, tightening her breasts—as if they weren’t already sensitive enough because of her pregnancy.

  “Kenzie?” Vince’s voice boomed from the living area. “Are you finished yet?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She stepped through the door.

  He appeared at the head of the hall, his shoulders almost touching either wall, his shadowed face deliciously mysterious.

  Gulp.

  Her fingers clenched tighter on the towel to overcome her urge to drop it.

  Vince extended his hand. Her feet inched forward. Maybe she could just reach and take his—phone? She squinted in the dim hall light to see that he held a cell phone in his grip.

  “For you. It’s Ruthie.”

  Embarrassment burned her bare skin. Did he know how close she’d been to flinging away her towel and restraint?

  Securing her hold, she took the cell phone in her other hand. “Ruthie?”

  “Whew,” Ruthie gasped through the earpiece, “that man of yours is a hothead as well as a hottie.”

  “Huh?” She leaned against the wall packed with airplane and helicopter prints, Vince doing the same without looking away.

  “Apparently, he thought I was some kind of obscene phone caller.”

  “Ohmigosh. I’m so sorry.” McKenzie gasped, memories of all those other calls flooding her mind and making her long to fly straight into Vince’s arms.

  “Before I could dissuade him of the notion, he threatened to nail my ass to the wall, and while perhaps that could be a pleasurable thing, I do believe he meant it in a different context that my fervent imagination created.”

  Ruthie’s ramble scattered scarier thoughts, bringing back happier days, steamier times. McKenzie couldn’t help but think of when she and Vince had made love against this very wall. Was he remembering that encounter as well, when they’d sent one of the framed prints crashing to the ground? She yanked her mind off that distracting image and back to Ruthie speaking.

  “Not that I think about your guy that way, because he’s yours, of course.”

  “Damn straight.” Whoops. Another slip alert.

  And hey…wait a second! What was that about him imagining Ruthie was the obscene caller at first? She would ask him about that later. When she had clothes, and when he wasn’t inches away steaming her with his body heat.

  For now, she needed to finish this call. “What can I say? He’s a little protective. Apparently he overstocked on those ‘Be Mine’ conversation hearts.”

  “Hmmm…I’m thinking I should pass along some of those to Carl before our big date tonight.”

  “You and Carl?” The supermodel and the nerd? “Cool!”

  Out of the blue a memory of her husband flashed, of how his eyes seemed to wander toward the glamour types on the street. He always swore he loved her body just fine the way it was, but hey, guys liked to look. She told herself it didn’t matter.

  But God, she couldn’t help but appreciate how she always had Vince’s complete attention when they were together.

  She blinked through the thought that unsettled her already shaky resolve to keep Vince at arm’s length unless she was certain. Think. Phone. “Uh, be sure to call and tell me all about the date.”

  “That gal-pal sharing of info runs both ways, ‘ya know,” Ruthie said. “Meanwhile, I actually called to pass along a message from Judd to contact him tomorrow about the runway renovations.”

  Listening to Ruthie rattle off other stats that had come in, McKenzie watched Vince watch her like she was the most amazing person ever. His attention was a heady thing that she wanted to trust.

  Time to take a leap of faith and tell him what she really wanted.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Walking along the shore at sunset, Vince couldn’t believe McKenzie had wanted to go shopping. Nowhere in his romance book did it suggest spending a day as mall rats.

  But how could he tell her no? She’d said they should try a normal day, test out real life. Which actually sounded like progress.

  And they both needed a breather after finding the latest taunt from her stalker. Those emails insisting he didn’t deserve her had rattled them both.

  He’d notified the OSI so they could try to track the address. There was nothing more he could do now but stay close to her and watch. Since he worried about keeping her at her place and his—the first places that perv would look—the outing to a neighboring city’s mall sounded like a good plan.

  The outing hadn’t been half bad, was really good actually. They’d bought tennis shoes, a new crock pot and even shopped for a few baby items like unisex sleepers and impossibly tiny T-shirts. After all that hustle and bustle, a peaceful walk had seemed like a good idea.

  She’d watched him so intently sometimes, he’d wondered if this was a test. And why wasn’t she still pushing for more info about his plans to get out of the military? Did she just not care?

  Women sure were confusing, this woman more than others.

  McKenzie scuffed her feet through the sand, each step whistling against the pristine white beach. “Do you know why our feet squeak against the sand when we walk along the beaches here?”

  He scrambled to follow her conversational shift. There she went, confusing him again. “No, babe, why’s that?”

  “Because the sand here is made of teeny grains of quartz crystal from the Appalachian Mountains.” She danced her feet through with an extra whistle/squeak, the perfect mix of super-brainy and surprisingly whimsical McKenzie.

  The observation was so vintage McKenzie he couldn’t stop the grin at her PhD brain always working and reasoning. Then his smile faded. Thing was, logic said they weren’t a good match even though he wanted her in his life so much his previously numb heart squeezed tight.

  He wasn’t a quitter. He’d hauled his ass and his crew out of the fire more than once on missions that would have downed others.

  So shouldn’t he be relieved to put that behind for a new, safer job? But he couldn’t stop thinking about the difference he’d made, the pride and rush of defending his country.

  Damn it all, he’d made up his mind. He shifted his focus off the crashing waves and onto McKenzie, her face haloed by the multicolored hues of the setting sun. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  A smile flickered, and even at half wattage, McKenzie outshone anyone else he’d known. “Vince, you don’t have to say things like that to me. I’m not an exciting person, which is okay with me because I’m comfortable in my skin. I enjoy walks on the shore and shopping for baby clothes, and my brain’s jam-packed with academic trivia. You lead a high-octane life and thrive on the thrills. I’m not sure I’m enough for you, especially if you leave the military.”

  Not enough for him? How could she not know the way she turned a fella inside out? Hadn’t her husband told her every damn day what an amazing woman she was and what a lucky bastard he was to breathe the same air she did? Vince didn’t need the book to tell him that while she’d loved her husband, apparently the man hadn’t been good enough for her.

  Vince took in the stubborn tip of her chin defied by the vulnerable
glint in her eyes and knew he was totally toast. He cupped her face, threading his fingers in her hair to cup the back of her head. “Honey, you are more woman than a guy like me can handle. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to try like hell.”

  He swooped down to take her mouth and damned if she didn’t take his right back. Warm, supple McKenzie molded her every curve against him, her sexy little sighs infusing more of her heat into him, searing through his veins, pulsing south hot, fast, hard.

  “I need you, Kenzie” he groaned between feverish kisses, “so much.” On so many levels. He wanted to tell her, except every time he tried to talk, somehow he screwed things up.

  But he couldn’t let her think he’d pushed her away five months ago because of anything wrong with her. She was damn-near perfect, and the parts of her that weren’t perfect made her fun and challenging and holy crap, she could do the most amazing things with those flutter-soft fingers under his shirt, her whispers and moans and hungry hands telling him she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  They really needed to get a room fast before they were arrested. Hadn’t he wanted to stay away from their condos anyway? And just his luck, flashing in the darkening night blanketing the seaside resort cabins, he spotted the red neon word…

  Vacancy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Could she really be standing inside a romantic seaside cottage with Vince? Was she crazy or what?

  But as McKenzie watched him lock the door, seal the white blinds and click on the conch shell lamp, she knew she wouldn’t walk away, especially after the temptation of their wonderfully normal day together.

  Hadn’t that creepy stalker even made her remember nothing in life was certain? How dare he include Vince in his sick games?

  God, she couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Vince. She needed this moment with him as much as he did. She would worry about regrets later, because right now, she craved the vitally alive feel of his hot skin under her hands.