Her Valentine Hero. Gail Martin Gaymer
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“Me?” A grin brightened her face. “Look what you just did. You gave me your plate, and then went to fill two more. I don’t know why I’m surprised, I remember, as much as you irked me year ago, you were always thoughtful. Helpful, really.”
“So were you. You’ve always focused on the needs of others. I’ve seen you give a needy woman a piece of clothing you were wearing.”
Her eyes capture his. “I what?” She shook her head. “I don’t remember that? “
Maybe he’d admitted too much. “I helped you and Rainie take the canned goods you’d collected to a food kitchen in Detroit somewhere. It was October. I remember there was a chilly breeze, and...” He caught himself again, letting his sentence fade.
“October? Come on. How would you remember that?”
Her eyes grew as large as the pumpkin on her shirt that day. He’d done it. Too much information. He might as well tell her he could remember everything she wore back then. “When you gave the woman your sweater, underneath you were wearing a knit shirt that had a big pumpkin on it, and—”
“Jonny, I can’t believe you remembered that crazy pumpkin top.” Her gaping mouth drew into a smile. “I think I blocked that gaudy thing from my memory.”
But he hadn’t. When she’d hoisted the carton of food from the trunk, the sunlight hit her auburn hair and streaked it with gold, the color of leaves at the height of autumn. It had taken his breath away. He’d just turned fourteen, and Neely had become his first secret love.
Neely shook her head as a soft chuckle escaped her. “Why would you remember something like that?”
Talk about reality, the truth smacked him in the head. “Because I had the biggest crush on you.”
Her hand flew up, and flipped the edge of the plate. Two appetizers skipped to the table. She dropped them back on the plate, though her eyes never left him. “What are you saying? You had a crush on me?” She burst into a laugh. “You were a pesky kid.”
To her maybe, but to him, he was a man in love.
She lifted her hand and pressed his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sure, at the time, you thought you were in love. I guess I did that, too. I remember picturing me in the arms of Leonardo DiCaprio.” She lifted her brows. “Sometimes I can still picture that.”
A faint chuckle tittered from her as if she were a teenager again.
She broke eye contact and smiled. “So you had a crush on me.”
Not had—have. He managed to return the grin as he picked up his drink. His tongue adhered to the roof of his mouth as if he’d eaten glue. She’d already taken his confession as a joke, and he needed to let it go for now. In time, he hoped she would see who he was from his actions. A man’s actions had to mean more than his age. He gazed at her, his mind going back. “Another thing I remember.”
“You remember more?”
“Not really.” He let it drop. He’d said too much already. “Want to mingle?” He started to rise but she grabbed the hem of his jacket and tugged.
“No, I want to know what you remember.”
Her lighthearted tone urged him on, and though he knew he could be digging his own demise, he decided to be open. He could be Jonny for now if that’s what it took. “The country-club comment reminded me of this.”
She frowned at first before brightening again. “Go ahead.”
“I remember once you said, ‘Who needs sterling silver and fine china. I like paper plates and plastic forks. No dishes to wash.’ You wrinkled your nose and laughed. I remember.”
“Were you memorizing my conversations with your sister?” She arched an eyebrow, and he couldn’t tell if she were teasing or upset.
“Crushes do that. Can’t you remember everything about Leonardo DiCaprio’s face when he stood on the bow of the Titanic with Kate Winslet?”
Her expression turned to a grin. “I guess you’re right.” She reached over, and rested her hand on his again. “I think we should mingle, but first, I want to thank you again for coming to my aid with Erik. He really bothers me.”
Her expression validated what she’d said. Erik ground him, too. “What was that comment about Ashley?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” This time she did frown.
So did he, because he could only guess that Ashley could become the pawn of another of Erik’s manipulations to get what he wanted.
He didn’t like it at all.
Chapter Five
Neely opened the back door and stopped, seeing her father with his nose in the refrigerator. She eyed the clock. “It’s a little early for dinner, Dad. Are you hungry?”
“Can’t I eat a snack if I want to?”
His head remained behind the fridge door, and when he straightened, he backed away with a hunk of cheese and piece of ham. “I thought I’d have a sandwich.”
The clock read three-thirty. Neely shook her head. “Then that will be your dinner, I guess.”
“Dinner? I said it’s a snack.”
She jammed her fists into her waist. “A snack is an apple or a cookie, not a sandwich. That’s dinner.”
“Who said?” He ignored her by facing the counter as he built a sandwich.
“Your doctor. He said you needed to eat healthy and take off a little weight.”
Her dad waved his hand over his shoulder. “Pooh. What does he know?”
Her shoulders slumped. “You frustrate me, Dad.” She walked to his side, and touched his arm. “I don’t want to see you sick again. You need to take care of yourself.”
He gave her a half glance. “I am. I’m making a sandwich.”
Her hand slipped from his arm, and she shook her head. “Fine.” She headed toward the doorway, and then paused. Having a tiff with her dad would serve no purpose. “I had a nice visit with Ashley. We talked about going out to dinner tonight. Want to join us?”
“No. I’m happy at home.”
That was his problem. Since her mother died, he had lost motivation to live. He ate wrong, got no exercise, and stared at the TV. But his determination was stronger than hers and getting him to make changes seemed hopeless. She needed someone to prompt him to alter his choices, but it had to be someone he’d listen to. Apparently that person wasn’t her.
“Would you like to take a ride to Ash’s to see Joey? He’s getting cuter every day.”
He took a bite of his sandwich, and didn’t respond.
She