So what if she could forgive the dishonesty? That didn’t change the other problem. Any fool would have recognized the way he’d reacted to seeing her change in wardrobe over the past few days. He’d been delighted…and dejected. It was as if he’d felt happy to have discovered a pretty doll, and wanted to play with it—really play with it—but didn’t want anyone else seeing how pretty it was.
A frump on his arm. A vamp in his bed. “Jerk,” she repeated.
When she heard a knock on her front door, her heart leaped and her pulse raced. She tiptoed through her apartment, peeking through the peephole, expecting to see Joe’s thick, dark hair and handsome face. Instead, she saw iron-gray hair and wrinkles.
Mrs. Mahoney knocked again. “I know you’re in there, missy.”
Opening the door, she forced a smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Mahoney. How nice to see you.”
“Delivery came for you. I signed for it,” the woman said. She bent and picked up something standing beside her. When Meg saw the bouquet of roses, her heart softened a bit. Then she crossed her arms and frowned. “I don’t want them.”
Mrs. Mahoney shrugged. “Great. I’ll keep them for myself.” The older woman turned around, crossed the hall, and walked into her apartment with Meg’s flowers. She never even looked back.
Closing her door, Meg shook her head in disbelief. Mrs. Mahoney had just stolen her Valentine’s flowers! “It’s your own fault,” she muttered, telling herself she didn’t care.
They had to have been from Joe. Who else would have sent her flowers? Beautiful, fragrant, romantic roses that were now going to compete for table space with Mrs. Mahoney’s medicine bottles and collection of ceramic pigs.
A half hour later she heard another knock. Again she peeked, hoping for dark hair. Again she sighed at the sight of her neighbor. “Hello again. Enjoying your flowers?”
The woman shrugged. “Not as much as I’ll enjoy these if you don’t want them.” She held out a big, red-satin-wrapped box, obviously full of expensive chocolates. Then she gave her a look of exaggerated concern. “You probably shouldn’t. A few too many of these and those hips of yours could go from curvy to tubby.”
“Keep them,” Meg snarled as she shut the door.
She watched out the peephole as Mrs. Mahoney strolled back to her own apartment, opening the box and popping a chocolate into her mouth even before she went inside.
“Flowers and chocolate,” she muttered. “How original, Joe. Maybe Mrs. Mahoney will go out with you. You’d probably at least approve of her wardrobe.” She stalked into her kitchen to make lunch. The Oreos were gone; it was time to move to ice cream.
My hips are not tubby. But she grabbed some yogurt instead.
The next time she heard a knock, Meg was determined not to lose her temper. Didn’t she deserve to keep at least one gift she was given for Valentine’s Day? Even if it was a day late, and from a man who was currently number one on her hit list.
Mrs. Mahoney held two wrapped shirt boxes. “Shook ’em,” she said. “Can’t tell much, though. Want me to open them?”
Meg stepped out. Instead of answering, she countered, “Have you called my mother yet?”
Mrs. Mahoney sniffed. “Before the big finale? Puh-lease!”
Finale? Meg frowned. “Why are these deliveries coming to your place, anyway?”
The woman merely smiled, shoved the boxes at Meg, and walked away. “I wondered when you were gonna think of that,” she said over her shoulder. “Maybe it’s ’cause the delivery man thinks you won’t open the door to him.”
Joe. She stepped out, shutting her door behind her. Glancing down the hall, she failed to see his lean form and dark hair.
He could have already left the building. Or he could be in the stairwell. Either way, curiosity made her open the first box right there outside her door. Tearing off the pretty paper, she saw something wrapped in tissue inside. There was a note taped to the tissue. Opening it, she read, “‘For you to wear whenever you go out, anywhere you damn well please.”’
More curious than ever, she opened the tissue and saw a mound of shiny tan spandex. Leaning down, she placed both boxes on the floor. Then she pulled out the fabric and held it up.
“Good Lord,” she muttered when she saw the slinkiest, tiniest, skimpiest dress she’d ever seen in her life. It was the color of skin, and would fit like it. The plunging V-neckline was lower than any dress she’d ever dreamed of wearing, and the slit would risk showing off anything its wearer had on underneath.
To wear in public? Sure. Right. As if that’d happen.
But, she acknowledged, at least he’d admitted she had the right to do so if she wished. A smile curled her lips and, in spite of herself, she felt her reservations slipping away.
Her heart pounding in earnest now, she reached for the other box and tore away the wrapping. Inside, another note was attached to the tissue paper covering some soft material. This one read, “For you to wear in our bed. I’ll want you no matter what, Meg.”
When she pulled out the two white cotton items, she nearly choked. Joe had sent her the most unattractive, plain undergarments she’d ever seen. The cotton underwear was huge and hideous, looking more suitable for a grandmother—or Mrs. Mahoney. And the bulky bra, complete with five rows of hooks, had probably been in style in the fifties.
A bubble of laughter burst from her lips as she dropped the box to the floor. She had to lean against the wall and bend over to chuckle in pure delight.
He understands. Had he sent her red silk, or that blue teddy, she would have tossed them in the trash. But Joe knew her well enough to figure out exactly how to make her understand his feelings. His gifts proved it.
Still grinning, she suddenly noticed someone standing a few feet away. She slowly lifted her gaze and saw Joe. His tender expression reinforced everything she already knew. “Thank you,” she whispered with a smile. “I think.”
“I know your neighbor—Mrs. Mahoney?—kept the flowers and the candy, so you didn’t get to read those notes,” he said quickly, as if afraid she wouldn’t listen. “The first one said ‘I’m sorry for being a letch who ogled you at Sheer Delights.’ The second said ‘I’m more sorry for not being honest from the start.”’
The third set of notes was just as important, but she didn’t tell him that. “You went to a lot of trouble. What if I hadn’t opened these, either?”
“I would have kept right on going until Mrs. Mahoney had a stack of notes and gifts piled up in her apartment.”
Curious, she asked, “What would have come next?”
“Handcuffs.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Plus a complete description of the plan my cop brother and I came up with to get even with Georgie the Goat.”
Flowers, chocolate, clothing and revenge? What a man. “It involves handcuffs?”
“And a real goat,” he said with an evil chuckle. “I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll let me.”
She tapped her index finger on her cheek. “Do I get to keep the cuffs afterward?”
He nodded again, a twinkle in his brown eyes. “You can keep anything you want, Meg.”
Lifting her chin in challenge, she said, “And you really don’t mind me wearing that dress?”
His eyes darkened with appreciation as he looked at her. “I’d love to see you wearing that dress. Anytime, anywhere.”
She raised a skeptical brow.
“I’m not a caveman, honey—I promise.” He touched her shoulder, gently tracing a path along her collarbone with the tip of his finger. “But I knew I was walking a tightrope until I told you everything. I didn’t want any other man to sweep you away before I had a chance to prove how I felt about you.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the way his light touch infused her with energy and warmth.
“I believe you,” she admitted softly.
“Thank you.” He lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, not taking any more than s
he offered.
When he let her go, she gestured toward the undies. “I still can’t quite picture you shopping for these.”
He winced. “I think the salesclerk thought I was a cross-dresser. Or a gigolo shopping for my elderly sugar mama.” He took her hand and earnestly said, “Wear whatever you want, but please don’t ever make me shop for anything like that again.”
She giggled. “Deal.”
Leaning close, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, touching her so tenderly she sighed. “I needed to make you understand, Meg. I wanted the woman I saw. I fell in love with the woman I got to know.”
She leaned closer, until their bodies were a whisper apart. Looking into his eyes, she murmured, “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned the L-word.”
“I do love you, Meg.”
She absorbed the moment, letting the words soak into her brain, making a memory of it to last forever.
“I know it’s too soon,” he continued, “but I also know I’m going to love you just as much in fifty years as I do today.”
“It’s funny, but I have no problem believing you,” she replied, knowing he saw the emotion in her eyes. “Because I feel the same way, Joe. I started to fall the minute you stepped into the computer kiosk at The Red Doors.” Sliding her hands up to his neck, she curled her fingers into his hair. “And I know I’m going to love you forever, too.”
He answered with a slow kiss that overflowed with gentle passion. He held her close, as if afraid she might disappear. She tightened her arms around his neck as their kiss deepened, assuring him she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I want you again,” she whispered against his mouth as they exchanged kiss after kiss. She needed him to take her on the same wild roller-coaster ride of pleasure he’d shown her the night before. She slid her hands down, beneath his jacket, to stroke his strong body and feel his heat.
“The door, open the door,” he muttered as he kissed her neck then her throat.
Feeling his desperation and excitement, she reached blindly for the knob, needing to get him into her apartment—and into her body—before she went out of her mind.
“Can’t you two take that inside?”
Meg winced as Mrs. Mahoney’s voice intruded. Joe groaned and dropped his head in frustration. Keeping his arms around her waist, he looked over his shoulder at the woman. “We’re going.”
“Good. Now I can call your mother!”
Meg just sighed.
“And thank you for your help,” Joe added with a chuckle.
“You’re welcome,” the woman said. Then her sharp gaze shifted downward to the open boxes on the floor. “For me, too?”
Eyeing the bra and underwear, Meg nodded mindlessly. She edged closer to the door, still frantic to make love with Joe. “Definitely for you,” she said. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
When the woman bent over, snatched the spandex dress out of the box, then disappeared back into her apartment, Meg couldn’t even murmur a protest.
Because Joe finally got the door open.
EPILOGUE
March 15, 2003
JAMIE COULDN’T DECIDE which to focus on, last month’s profits displayed on her computer screen, the diamond winking on her left hand or the full-page, going-out-of-business-sale ad for The Gift Program. The diamond won out, although those big, fat numbers had tremendous appeal and she loved knowing that The Red Doors had beaten their copycat competition into a bloody pulp. February had been a dynamite month all the way around.
“C’mon, Jamie.” Faith poked her head around the divider that separated their office cubicles. “It’s time for the big powwow.”
Jamie shut down her computer and rolled back her chair. “You still have no idea what this is all about?”
“No, and I can’t believe Dev didn’t tell you, either.”
“He didn’t.” Jamie stood and grabbed her purse.
“Not even a hint last night?”
Jamie had trouble sifting through all the wonderful lovemaking they’d shared to search for possible hints. “I don’t think so. When he called the office this morning, I got the impression it was something that had just come up, but he said we needed to talk about it in person.”
Faith walked beside her down the hall toward the mezzanine. “And whatever it is, he thinks Carter should be in on the discussion. I can’t imagine what this could be.”
“A hot stock tip he thinks we should take advantage of when the market opens Monday morning? If he gets us all together, he’d only have to go through it once.”
“That’s as good a guess as anything, I suppose. But I have to say he’s being overly dramatic. Why not just tell us that’s what he wants to talk about, instead of all this mystery?”
“I haven’t a clue, Faith. He’s your brother.”
“And he’s your fiancé. I thought you told each other everything.”
“Well, we do.” Jamie remembered the disguises she and Dev had hidden behind in the beginning of their relationship. “Eventually.” As she and Faith headed for the red-carpeted stairway leading down to The Red Bean, they had to maneuver past several groups of shoppers, and the only holiday on the horizon was St. Patrick’s Day. “Totally off the subject—but don’t you love how busy we are?”
“Absolutely. It’s as if Chicago has fallen in love with The Red Doors. I hate to say it, but the publicity surrounding the robbery probably helped.”
Jamie gave her a playful nudge. “Didn’t hurt yours and Carter’s cause any, either.”
Faith smiled as they descended the stairs. “No, it sure didn’t.”
“Say, there are a couple of hotties sitting at a table in the far corner. Think we should try to pick them up?”
“I’m game if you are.”
“Let’s go for it. I’ll take the guy in the Armani. You can have the one in the jeans and leather jacket.”
“Thanks. He looks like exactly my type.”
Jamie walked toward the table where Dev and Carter sat watching them approach. Dev’s eyes glowed with such appreciation and love that Jamie wondered if he was thinking about the peppermint oil massage she’d given him last night. And what had happened afterward. She certainly was thinking about it.
Both men rose and pulled out chairs. Jamie scooted into the one Dev held for her.
“I ordered you an espresso and Faith her vanilla-flavored coffee.” Dev gave Jamie a quick kiss as he scooted her chair in. “With Mr. Willis on his honeymoon with Dixie, we can’t count on this substitute guy to bring it over automatically.”
“I sure miss Mr. Willis,” Jamie said. “Both of them, in fact. But I’m thrilled with the way everything turned out.”
“I’m dying to find out how they liked the Caribbean cruise on that new cruise line,” Faith said. “Carter and I might book one if Dixie gives it a thumbs-up.”
Carter laughed. “Are you kidding? You know Dixie—she wouldn’t let the cruise line get away with making it anything but the best.”
Dev leaned his elbows on the table. “That fits in perfectly with what I wanted to talk to everybody about. I—”
“Cruises?” Faith asked. “If I’d known that I’d have brought my brochures. I have—”
“Hold on a minute.” Jamie touched her arm. “That’s Meg O’Rourke coming out of the kiosk over there.” She blinked as a man followed Meg out of the kiosk. They both looked a little rumpled, but happy. “Ohmigod. I’ll bet that’s Joe Santori with her. He dealt mostly with Dixie, so I never got a good look at the guy, but he fits Dixie’s description.”
Faith turned to look. “Isn’t Meg the woman whose image was accidentally programmed into our software?”
“Yeah.” Jamie grinned. “And she freaked, but I guess she feels comfortable coming into the store now.”
Carter glanced at the couple. “I’d say they look real comfortable. I’d go so far as to say they did a little canoodling in the kiosk, wouldn’t you, Dev?”
“Looks like it.”
“I’m sure it was a sentimental journey for them,” Jamie said. “They met in one of those kiosks, and then Meg came in a couple of times to buy some lingerie to catch his eye, but I never heard the end of the story.”
Dev laughed. “You don’t need to. Just look at them.”
“I want to hear it from the source,” Jamie said. Standing, she waved her hand over her head. “Meg?”
Meg glanced her way and her eyes widened. “Jamie! I didn’t see you over there.”
Carter lowered his voice. “She wouldn’t have seen a charging rhino. That woman has it bad.”
Faith tweaked his ear. “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
Carter turned in surprise. “Me? I never—”
“That’s not what your friends down at the station say about you.” Faith smiled at him.
Meg and the guy who’d shared the kiosk with her walked over. Sure enough, Meg introduced her fiancé, Joe Santori, and displayed a stunning engagement ring.
After Jamie introduced everyone at the table to Joe and Meg, Faith took Meg’s hand to study the ring more closely. “That’s one of ours!”
“Yep,” Joe said. “But you weren’t there when we bought it the Saturday after Valentine’s Day. Someone said you’d taken the day off for personal business.”
“Um, yes, I did.” Faith blushed and glanced at Carter, who gave her a wink.
“We came in today to look at trousseau stuff,” Meg explained. “I know it’s a little unconventional for the groom to help pick out the bride’s lingerie, but—”
“It was more to revisit that particular kiosk,” Joe said. “We met there, and as of today we’ve been engaged exactly one month.”
Jamie realized today was the fifteenth. “You know, all of us got engaged February fourteenth. And Dixie and Mr. Willis got engaged that night, too.”
“You’re kidding!” Meg grabbed a chair from another table. “Pull up a chair, Joe. I have to hear all about this.”
Another cup of coffee later, Meg and Joe left, but not before addresses were exchanged and promises made to send out wedding invitations all around, once the dates had been set.
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