Romance on Mountain View Road (13 page)

He jumped up and turned to catch it, just as she reached for it, resulting in their both missing it. Down the thing went, spilling water and flowers everywhere. That could have been fixed easily enough but to compound his misery, the glass broke. Why didn't they make those vases thicker?

“Gosh, I'm sorry,” he said, bending to pick up the flowers.

“It's...okay.” That was what her lips said, but the rest of her face added, “Not.”

He gathered up the flowers and handed them to her, feeling like a little kid handing over a wilted roadside bouquet.

“Thanks,” she said. Again, right words, wrong facial expression.

From some corner of the office Kyle heard a snicker. If only he was a turtle. He could pull inside his shell and hide. There was no hiding here at the reception desk. He beat a hasty retreat to his cubicle, his cheeks burning.

When he got there, he found a chocolate cupcake sitting on his desk.

“I think you need this more than I do,” said a soft voice from the cubicle next door.

Mindy had seen. The whole office had seen. He was a loser and here was the booby prize. “Thanks,” he managed, and faced his computer screen, wishing he could rewind this morning.

The chocolate cupcake beckoned him.
You'll feel better if you eat me.

He picked it up and took a bite. Not bad. And he did feel better—as long as he kept his eyes on his screen and didn't look in Jillian's direction. So much for the new clothes.

By the end of the work day, he was ready to get back in the ring and fight again, in spite of the fact that his coworkers had enjoyed several good laughs at his expense.

“You got the flower power, boy,” Willie the accountant had teased as they left the office.

Whatever that meant. Kyle had heard the expression somewhere and he thought it had something to do with the sixties but he wasn't sure. Willie would know; he was old enough. Kyle didn't ask for an explanation, though. Instead, he pretended not to hear.

Still, Willie's crack got him thinking. The best way to fix this mess was to send Jillian some flowers, along with an apology—and an invitation to dinner.

He got on the phone to Lupine Floral and placed his order. Heinrich, one of the owners, assured him that Jillian would get her flowers first thing the next morning.

He was smiling when he hung up. Flower power, yeah.

* * *

Jonathan finished with his last client by four and went straight to Bruisers to do his workout. For a guy who had rarely lifted anything heavier than a computer, it was a killer. But hey—no pain, no gain. And he was determined to gain muscle and Lissa's attention.

The place smelled like the inside of a gym locker. He could hear the
woosha-woosha
of the treadmills where two women were speed-walking. One of them was about his mom's age. The other was Cecily from Sweet Dreams. She caught sight of him and gave him a friendly wave, and he nodded and hurried to the weights. Did she wonder why he was bothering to come here? He didn't exactly look like the king of buff.

But these things took time. Anyway, he didn't need to be totally ripped. He'd settle for...heck, anything was better than what he had. He looked at the row of weights. Time to move up to something heavier. He chose a set of dumbbells and got to work.

When he was done with those, he made the round of the machines, instruments of torture for an out-of-shape guy. But, he thought as he worked his legs, these sessions were getting a little easier. He had to be making progress. He tried not to look as Garrett Armstrong, one of the local firemen, casually rowed his way to nowhere on the rowing machine. Someday he'd be that fit.

After the gym he went home and showered and had a protein shake. Then he stuck the meat loaf his mom had given him the other day in the oven to reheat while Chica sat nearby, watching hopefully. “Come on now, this is my favorite,” he told her. “You don't really think I'm gonna share, do you?”

Of course she didn't think it. She knew it. He was such a soft touch.

No sign of Adam. Maybe he'd finally made up with Chelsea. Jonathan sure hoped so. He didn't mind helping a pal but he wasn't up for having a permanent roommate. Unless it was Lissa.

The mere thought of Lissa reminded him how far he still had to go on the road to self-improvement before he saw her at the reunion. In the not-so-good old days he'd have relaxed before dinner by playing a game of chess online. There was no time for that now. Instead, he had to practice his dance steps.

He probably looked like a fool with his arms around nothing but space, but he'd rather look like a fool now than at the reunion. Anyway, there was no one to see but Chica.
One and two, one and two.
Chica barked encouragement.

And then he heard a new voice. “What the hell are you doing?”

He turned to see Adam walking in the door, bearing a pizza box from Italian Alps.

Okay, he definitely looked like a fool.
Well, so what?
“I'm learning how to dance,” he said and kept moving.

Adam shook his head. “For the reunion, huh? I don't know why you're even bothering. There's no pleasing women. No matter what you do, it's wrong.”

“No matter what
you
do, it's wrong,” Jonathan corrected him. And he wasn't Adam.

Boy, there was an understatement. Adam had money. And muscle. Jonathan was still a wimpy nerd in jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of Albert Einstein on it. But under that shirt he was slowly building muscle. He'd bulk up and learn to be suave and Lissa wouldn't be able to resist him. He hoped.

That night he had an important book to finish. This one was practically the story of his life. Like Lissa, the heroine had known the hero since childhood. He'd been the cowboy next door, someone she saw as a friend, not a lover. It wasn't until the poor guy nearly got trampled by a bull that she realized how much he meant to her.

“Oh, Justice,” Corrine sobbed, taking his hand in hers. “I thought we'd lost you.”

“Would it have mattered if you had?” His voice was weak. And bitter.

“Of course,” she said, stung.

“You've been so busy with Chase....”

She put her finger to his lips. “Don't say it. I've been a fool.”

She knew that now. Chase was charming and handsome.

Like Rand, thought Jonathan.

But he was all flash, like heat lightning, striking hot and hard and then gone. Justice was like the rain, steady and dependable. He was always there for her. He always had been. Why hadn't she seen that before?

Yeah, Jonathan thought. Why?

“I've always loved you,” Justice said. “You never gave me a chance.”

“I'm giving you one now.” She leaned across the hospital bed and gently kissed his lips.

She started to pull away but his arm came around her, surprisingly strong considering everything he'd been through, and his lips claimed hers for another kiss, this one filled with passion long denied.

“I want you, Corrine. I can't let Chase have you. He doesn't deserve you. He never has. You're mine.”

There it was again, hero attribute number three on Jonathan's list. Women wanted a man to take charge, to say, “This is how it is. You're mine.”

He shut his eyes and tried to envision himself saying that to Lissa. He couldn't, because there was a big difference between him and Lissa and this fictional couple. Deep down, Corrine loved Justice and Justice knew it, thanks to a heated makeout session the author had allowed them earlier in the book. Jonathan had never enjoyed a heated makeout session with Lissa. And they'd only kissed once.

It had been at her Halloween party when they were in middle school. Her parents had turned the kids loose in the basement with chips and pop and candy corn, and they'd decided to play truth or dare.

Tina Swift, dressed as a witch, had dared Lissa to kiss Jonathan. This had been humiliating because Jonathan had known Tina meant the task to be unpleasant.

He'd been the world's scrawniest pirate. With glasses. The girls had giggled and Danny Popkee had threatened to punch Jonathan if he let her. But she was dressed in a princess gown and the prettiest girl at the party. Ever since Jonathan had gotten a gander at Lissa in her first bikini, he'd dreamed of kissing her. He was willing to risk a million punches.

She'd ignored the giggles and the threat, leaned over and got him right on the lips. It had been a heady experience, sending a hormonal current zipping through Jonathan. He was kissing Lissa! It was a dream come true. He savored the moment—until Danny ended it by making good on his threat and punching him.

He left the party with a black eye and heartfelt gratitude to Tina.

Did Lissa remember that kiss? Maybe in a
ha, ha, wasn't that cute
kind of way. He'd been a kid then. He could do better now if given the chance. He just had to find a way to get her to
give
him that chance.

Chapter Ten

O
n Friday a bouquet even bigger than the one that came the day before arrived for Jillian around eleven. Kyle watched as she took out the card, read it and smiled. That boded well for a dinner date. She put the flowers right up at the front of her desk. Ted Darrow was sure to see them. Ha!
Take that, Darrow.

Kyle left his cubicle and sauntered over to the desk.

“The flowers are lovely,” she greeted him. “You didn't need to do that, though.”

“I wanted to,” he said. “Sorry about yesterday.”

She shrugged. “No big deal.”

He was about to nail down the details of the Saturday dinner date he'd suggested on the card when—
oh, no, not now—
Ted Darrow came out of his office. “Jillian, I'm going to need you to compile some reports before lunch.” He gave Kyle a distracted smile, then turned his back to him and kept talking.

Kyle got the message. With a frown, he went back to his cubicle. Darrow was a two-legged virus, corrupting Kyle's every attempt to get close to Jillian.

But he couldn't monopolize all her time. Kyle would get her later. He'd set up dinner plans with her on his way to lunch.

That plan backfired when she walked out with Darrow. Were they going to lunch together?

“Want to grab a sandwich at Filly's?” asked a voice at his elbow.

He turned and there was Mindy, smiling at him. With his new shoes he was a good three inches taller than her. Which meant he'd probably come up to Jillian's chin. But size didn't matter when you were in love. He hoped she realized that.

“Yes? No?”

Oh, yeah. Mindy. “Uh, sure.”

Filly's Café was located in the lobby of the office building and offered a few tables and chairs. A couple of paintings of horses hung on the walls in an attempt to make the name work. Mindy ordered a salad and Kyle ordered an egg salad sandwich and a coffee, and they staked out a table.

“How did the flowers go over?” she asked.

Kyle almost choked on his coffee. “Flowers?”

“I work right next to you. Remember?”

“Oh.” Jeez, working in this office was like living in a fishbowl.

Mindy stabbed a tomato with her fork and casually examined it. “She's going out with Ted Darrow.”

“How do you know that?”

Mindy gave him a pitying look. “Everyone knows.”

Everyone but him. Yeah, he'd known Darrow was sniffing around, but... Mindy had to be wrong. Jillian would suck up to him a little, of course. She had to be nice to the bosses. But as far as going out with him, she had better taste than that. “He's a jerk.”

“He's also one of the bosses and he drives a Jag.”

Kyle set down his sandwich. “So, what are you saying exactly?”

Mindy popped the tomato in her mouth and chewed, leaving him waiting for her sage observation. She swallowed. “I'm saying he's one of the bosses and he drives a Jag.”

“And the deck is stacked?”

“Something like that.”

“Pretty shallow if that's all that matters to a woman,” Kyle muttered, glaring at his sandwich.

“It's not all that matters to every woman. Just some.”

“Well, that's dumb. People should look beyond superficial stuff like that.”

“Do you practice what you preach?” Mindy asked.

“You bet I do. I'm not shallow.”

“Mmm,” she said, and took another bite of salad.

After that she changed the subject and they chatted about their plans for the weekend. Kyle had to admit he didn't have any for Saturday yet. But he had high hopes. He kept that to himself, however. Mindy was a skeptic.

Once finished, they still had some time before they needed to return to the office. He could go outside, take a walk down the street, maybe run into Jillian. Maybe she hadn't really gone to lunch with Darrow. Just because they'd left the office together, it didn't mean they
were
together. Right?

He claimed he had to run some errands and Mindy nodded. “Sure. See you back in Dilbert Land.”

She left him and he sauntered outside. What now? Was he going to wander up and down Mission Street, peering in windows? That would look dumb. He opted for going to the drugstore. He needed...gum. He could walk partway down Mission and maybe casually run into Jillian that way.

A couple of blocks down the street, he got his Jillian sighting. He was passing a new restaurant that offered casual dining when he spotted her at a small window table with Darrow, two plates of half-finished lunch between them.

He couldn't deny it any longer. Mindy was right; they were together. Kyle suddenly wanted to punch something. What did Jillian see in that jerk, anyway?

Wait a minute. What was this? Was she crying? He slowed down to a stroll and did his best to appear inconspicuous as he peered inside. There she sat, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. Darrow looked as if he wished he were somewhere else. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. Darrow was dumping her. Poor kid.

But she was well rid of him.

Now she shook her head and stood so abruptly her chair almost fell. Off she dashed toward the interior of the restaurant, probably to the women's room.

Darrow frowned. He pulled out his wallet, removed a bill and threw it on the table. Still frowning, he looked out the window and happened to see Kyle looking back. The frown dipped lower. Kyle picked up his pace and kept on walking. Getting the stink eye from his superior was seriously uncool. But knowing the jerk was out of the running was worth a thousand stink eyes.

Kyle got his pack of gum from the drugstore, then walked back to the office. Jillian was at her post again and, for once, she was alone. No one was hovering and the phone wasn't ringing. Her eyes were red.

But now she was about to find out what it was like to be loved by a real man. Kyle stopped at her desk. “You look like you've been crying. Everything okay?”

“Some people are real assholes,” she said.

Kyle blinked. His mother and sisters never said stuff like that, and hearing those words come out of Jillian's pretty mouth was a shock. Women weren't supposed to talk like men. They were supposed to be, well, better. But she was hurt. She was allowed. Anyway, it was true.

“Yeah, they are,” he agreed. “Anytime you want a shoulder to cry on.”

She managed a watery smile. “You're sweet, Kyle. Thanks for caring.”

Sweet.
It was a good beginning.

The phone rang, and that was the end of their conversation. But they didn't need to say anything more. They had reached an understanding.

And he had proof of it when he returned from his afternoon break to find a slip of paper with a feminine scrawl propped on his computer keyboard. “How about coming over for dinner Saturday night?” it read. Underneath that was Jillian's address. Very coy. Yeah, he could do that.

He was half tempted to show it to Mindy and crow a little. But he had the distinct impression that she didn't like Jillian and the last thing he wanted was someone raining on his parade. She'd see how wrong she was once Jillian was taking her lunch breaks with him.

He was in a good mood the rest of the afternoon.
I'm king of the world.
Well, if not the world, at least the office. He winked at Jillian when he left at five. She smiled back and gave him a flirty little wave as she talked on the phone. Man, oh, man. Life was good. He wouldn't be at all surprised if he won the pot at poker tonight.

* * *

Adam was in a foul mood when the guys showed up for poker.

“You still locked out?” Bernardo asked as they settled around Jonathan's kitchen table.

“Deal the cards,” Adam snapped.

Vance nodded. “Still locked out.”

“So, uh, the candy didn't work, huh?” Kyle asked.

“No, that went over even worse than the flowers.”

“What kind of flowers did you get her?” Bernardo asked.

Adam frowned and picked up his cards. “I dunno. Some arrangement with yellow flowers and daisies. They cost me a bundle. And she tossed them. She doesn't like daisies,” he added sourly.

“You should've gotten her favorite flower,” said Vance.

Now Adam's frown turned into a scowl. “Hell, who knows that kind of stuff?”

“I do,” Bernardo said. “Anna likes tiger lilies.”

“I thought all women liked roses,” Kyle said.

“That's usually a safe bet,” Bernardo agreed. “And a single red rose for no reason on her pillow? A man can score big with that.” He shoved a couple of cards across the table to Vance. “I'll take two.” To Adam he said, “You know, you're in deep shit,
amigo.
You're gonna have to work hard to dig your way out. You have to court her all over again. Like the knight did in
Wooing Willow.
”

Adam made a face. “Oh, man. Not another romance novel. Those aren't working for me.”

“It's because you're not paying attention,” Bernardo said.

“I am, too,” Adam protested. “I got her flowers and candy, and went over to talk to her. The only thing I haven't done is open a vein.”

He was obviously too embarrassed to mention the Safeway sign. Jonathan had seen it and cringed. Something had gone wrong with
that
plan.

“Ah, you're pissed,” Bernardo said. “She can tell. She knows you just want everything back the way it was.”

“Well, I do. What's wrong with that?”

“Uh, I don't think she liked the way it was,” Jonathan said.

“You've got to make her feel special,” Bernardo told him. “I'll lend you a copy of that book.”

“Is it a Vanessa Valentine one?” Jonathan asked. He should get it.

“It is. Anna has all of them.”

“Since when do you read romance novels?” Adam wanted to know.

Bernardo grinned. “Since I saw how friendly my wife got after she read one.”

Adam glared at his cards. “Yeah, well, I've been reading, too, and so far it hasn't done me any good.”

Bernardo pointed a finger at Adam. “Stop reading with angry eyes. These books are written by women. That means what the men are saying and doing in them is what women want men to say and do. Lose your attitude and maybe you'll learn something.”

That made Adam scowl. The others ignored him.

They went around the table twice, throwing out chips, seeing and raising, then Bernardo said, “Call,” and everyone showed their cards.

Kyle was the winner. As he raked in his chips, he said, “I gotta tell you, those books are paying off for me.” Now he puffed out his chest. “Guess who's got a date with Jillian tomorrow.”

Jonathan could feel his eyes getting big. “Yeah? I thought she was hot for Ted Darrow.”

“Was. You know they were actually an item? Anyway, the jerk dumped her, and old Kyle is around to help her pick up the pieces. She's invited me over for dinner tomorrow.”

“That was fast,” Jonathan observed.

Kyle grinned. “I think it was the flowers that did it. But the clothes didn't hurt.”

Vance shook his head. “Your deal, Bernardo.”

* * *

All it took was another night on the blow-up mattress in Jonathan's spare room to convince Adam he needed to borrow that novel from Bernardo. Saturday morning found him in Bernardo's orchard, walking between rows of trees with Pink Lady apples dangling from them like summer ornaments.

At the sight of him, Bernardo pushed back his straw hat and grinned knowingly. “So, you decided to get smart, eh?”

Adam frowned. Sometimes Bernardo was an irritating know-it-all.

The know-it-all didn't wait for him to acknowledge his inferiority. Instead, he led the way from the orchard to his house, a snug two-story farmhouse, complete with a garden off to the side and rockers on the front porch.

Once inside Adam could smell the remains of breakfast—coffee and a hint of cinnamon. And that reminded him of his wife's cinnamon rolls. From somewhere at the back of the house he could hear Bernardo's wife, Anna, singing.

“You know why she's singing?” Bernardo asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, he said, “Because she has me.”

Gag. “Just give me the book, smart guy,” Adam said.

“Anna,” Bernardo called, and then rattled off a bunch of Spanish Adam couldn't understand. Probably, “The stupid gringo is here.”

A moment later, his wife came down the hall. She was a little slip of a thing with high cheekbones and full lips and midnight-black hair sparkling with strands of gray.

“
Hola,
Adam,” she greeted him. “So you want to borrow my favorite Vanessa Valentine book.”

“I promise I won't lose it.”

She smiled at him and patted his arm. “You read this book, and it will help you learn how to treat your wife well.”

How much had Bernardo told her? “I treated her okay.” Even as he said it Adam knew he sounded like a fake.

She didn't say anything, just exchanged a knowing look with her husband. Then she ran up the stairs.

Adam stood in the hallway with Bernardo, feeling awkward. He rubbed the back of his neck where the muscles seemed to be constantly knotted. “I wasn't that bad a husband.”

Bernardo chuckled. “You weren't that good a husband, either,
amigo.
”

Now his wife was back. She handed Adam a book. The cover showed a couple dressed in the clothes of another era, a time when the only thing a man could drive was a carriage. They were in a garden and he was kneeling at her feet and kissing her hand. Whipped. The man was whipped.

“Chivalry,” Bernardo said as if he could read Adam's mind. “These days we take our women for granted. Back then, aah, a woman was a treasure to be won and cherished.” His wife was next to him now and he put an arm around her shoulders. “Your wife, she is your best friend,
sí?
It's important to show her that. Right,
querida?
”