A Valentine for Kayla (4 page)

“I suppose I could sit a few more minutes.” She motioned to his mug with a shaky hand. “You don't like coffee?”

“I'm more of a mocha kind of guy.” He took a sip and did his best to keep a straight face. “This isn't bad, though. Thanks.”

She stared into her coffee.

“Nickel for your thoughts.”

“You'd be overpaying.” She shot him a smirk, then rose. “I should get to work.”

He pushed back and stood slowly. “And I should check on my mom. But before I go, I'd like to buy a bouquet.”

“Sure.” She headed to the refrigerator. “What kind of flowers would you like, or do you prefer one of the premade arrangements?”

“How about you pick out your favorite?” He enjoyed the look of surprise in her eyes before she quickly veiled it.

“In that case…” She pulled a glass vase filled with light orange roses and small purple flowers from the glass refrigerator. “I love how different this design is from the rest. I'm sure your mom will appreciate its uniqueness.”

“Great.” He pulled out his wallet and paid.

“Would you like me to pack it in a box so it won't tip on your way home?”

He picked up the vase. “That won't be necessary. These won't be going home with me.” He handed her the flowers. “For you.”

“Me? But…I can't—”

“Why not? You don't like flowers?”

“Of course I do. But I have tons of blooms. You don't need to buy me flowers.”

He raised a brow. “Really? When was the last time you took fresh flowers home or someone sent you flowers?”

Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Umm…well—”

“Please accept them.”

“Thanks. You sure there's no girlfriend that's going to get jealous?” She shot him a tentative grin.

“Positive. I'm very much single and would very much like to take you to dinner. How about it?”

“Sounds like fun.” The gold flecks in her eyes danced.

“Great. You free tomorrow night?”

She nodded.

He suggested a time and typed her address into his smartphone. “I'll see you tomorrow night.” He moved toward the door and glanced over his shoulder and met her eyes. With a wink, he left. He was enjoying being ordinary Derek Wood, deliveryman.

* * *

Kayla wrapped her arms around her middle and watched as Derek sauntered out of view. For the first time she seriously considered tearing up her husband-requirements list. Derek probably met nearly all of them, anyway.

“Eeek!” Jill bounded through the swinging door. “I can't believe he asked you out and you said yes! What about your list?”

Kayla pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, but a giggle escaped. “I'm sure he meets most of my must-haves. Besides, I couldn't say no to a man who cares so much about his mother.” She motioned to the vase on the counter. “He bought me flowers.”

“I heard.” A dreamy look covered Jill's face. “He has to be the most romantic man I know. I'm glad you said yes.”

“Me, too.” She looked toward the front of the store as if he might suddenly appear. With a sigh, she faced Jill. “What's on the agenda for today?”

Her friend rolled her eyes. “In a moment of insanity this morning, I agreed to do a wedding for this Saturday evening.”

“No way. But that's only two days away!”

Jill shrugged. “She was desperate, and I felt sorry for her. It's not that big a deal, but I'll need your help making the bows. You're the bow-making expert around here.”

“Sure.” She followed Jill into the workroom happy she could help in a tangible way. “How many do you need?”

Jill slid the order form across the counter. “A lot.”

“Oh, boy. You weren't kidding. Are we only doing bows, or flowers, too?” Kayla couldn't believe the number of bows she needed to make.

“There will be flowers on the candelabras and on the cake. The bride is allergic to flowers and wants to have a bow bouquet for herself and her bridesmaids.”

“Doesn't she realize those are only for the rehearsal?”

“Believe me,” Jill said, “I tried to convince her to use flowers, but she is one stubborn bride.”

“Okay. May I include some silk flowers?”

“How about you make it, and I'll run it by her when she stops in this afternoon? If she hates it, we can change it.”

“You mean
I
can change it.” No matter. Kayla would make a bouquet so beautiful no bride in her right mind would consider turning it down.

“It's an evening wedding and her colors are silver, white and black.”

“Got it.” She set to work. “Will you need me to help with the setup?”

“Not this time. Charlie is going to give me a hand. I'm glad we hired him. Our customers really like him, too.”

Kayla grinned. “They should—he's a big teddy bear.” Charlie was built like a linebacker but had a gentle spirit. She rarely had occasion to see him since he came and went from the workroom to the van parked in the alley behind the store, but when she did, he was always very kind. In fact, she half wondered if Jill had a thing for him, but she wouldn't go there—at least not today.

“When you're done with that bouquet, go ahead and start on the bridesmaids'. I'd like to have them finished by four. She's supposed to stop by about then to see what we've done.”

“Will do. It's a good thing we decided not to close up shop and take a vacation or we'd have missed out on this wedding.” Always the glass-half-f kind of person, Kayla had to point out the silver lining.

Jill nodded. “But it kind of irks me that she waited until two days before the wedding to think about booking a florist. Who does that?”

“Someone allergic to flowers?” Kayla raised a brow.

“That's what she said, too. Her soon-to-be mother-in-law finally convinced her to go with the bows, and flowers on the cake and the candelabra arrangements. Can you believe we were the only florist she could find?”

“Uh, yeah. I'm surprised you agreed to do the job on such short notice. It makes us look desperate.”

“Well, I'm as much a romantic as you, and I wanted her to have a beautiful wedding. I'd have consulted with you, but she stopped in while you were at the bank this morning.”

“Now I understand. It's fine. We're doing our good deed for the week.” She shot Jill a grin and reached for a spool of sheer silver organza ribbon. In no time she had a rhythm going and soon the bouquet looked perfect. She'd tucked a few tiny silk flowers in for texture. “What do you think?”

“Nice. I like the variety of ribbon you used. It adds depth and great texture. Who knows? Maybe this will become the new rage.”

“Doubtful.” Kayla moved on to the bridesmaids' bouquets. If she ever married, she would have tons of flowers and zero bows. She had to give this bride credit for her color choice, though. Maybe she'd even use those colors herself someday. Her thumb caught on the point of the wire. “Ouch!”

“Be careful. I don't want blood on the ribbon. It's expensive.”

“I know, I know.” Enough daydreaming about a wedding that probably would never happen. Then again… A smile kissed her lips as Derek's image danced across her mind.

K
ayla stood before her bedroom mirror. The List hung beside it. She'd looked at it so often through the years that it had grown thin and tattered. She'd framed it and hung it in a place where she'd see it often to remind her not to settle like her mom.

No way would she get stuck in a marriage like her parents had endured. Not that Mom and Dad were unhappy all the time, but she could tell they were missing that spark. They behaved more like acquaintances than people in love. She wanted that special something that came along only once in a lifetime.

Her husband must love the Lord, love her, be honest, trustworthy, fun, a hard worker and a good listener, be dedicated to her, respect her, treat her like a princess, be committed to family, not take himself too seriously and be easy to look at. Blue eyes—she'd always had a thing for blue eyes. And he had to be able to say “I'm sorry.” Her dad had been incapable of uttering those words.

The other things on her list weren't deal breakers, but she'd love it if he could play guitar and sing and be willing to take her on a honeymoon in Venice. She'd always dreamed of being serenaded on a gondola by her husband. She sighed and returned her focus to the task at hand—finding the perfect outfit for her date.

She dressed in a pair of designer jeans she'd splurged on and a white T-shirt, then added a red blazer.

Not completely sure about the outfit, she held up a dark gray midi skirt that hit just above her ankles. She was going for flirty, but with the blazer it came off looking more like business wear. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. She needed to make a decision. She tossed the skirt on her queen-size bed and held up a tailored white blouse. “Ugh. Now I look like waitstaff.”

Why was it so hard to figure out what to wear? Good thing she didn't date often or her room would look as if a cyclone had blown through. She tossed the blouse on the bed, then put a floral infinity scarf over her head and arranged it around her neck. “Perfect.”

The doorbell pealed. “Be right there!” She grabbed her boots on the run and zipped them up over her jeans before pulling the door open.

Derek grinned. “You look great.”

Before she could stop herself, she gave him a once-over from head to toe. He'd chosen jeans, too.
Whew.
And a black button-up shirt that fit just right. “So do you.”

“Thanks. You ready?”

“Yep.” She grabbed her purse on the way out the door and locked up. “I'm starved.” She glanced into his smiling face. “I probably shouldn't have admitted that.”

“Not at all. I happen to be ravenous myself.” He pulled open the passenger door to his 4x4 and helped her step up.

A new-car smell engulfed her, and she settled into the seat. For a delivery guy, he must make good money to afford a rig like this. Not that money mattered—she was simply surprised.

Derek gently shut the door and hopped in on his side a moment later.

Her heart pitter-pattered. Now that she was here, she didn't know what to say or how to act. It had been a
very
long time since she'd gone on a date. And this wasn't just any date—he could be
the one
.

He backed out of her driveway and pointed the truck toward downtown. “I probably shouldn't admit this, but I asked my mom about a good place to have dinner. She recommended Jim's Steak House on Third Street.”

“I've never been, but I've heard it's great. How's your mom doing?”

“Improving every day. Her speech is still slow, but the words are clearer than they were right after her stroke. The speech therapist is impressed.” His chin lifted slightly.

“That's wonderful.” She studied his profile as he focused on the road. The resemblance between Derek and the singer DJ was uncanny. She'd downloaded a bunch of his songs and had been listening to them all day. The man sang with such conviction; she was addicted. “Do you sing?”

He whipped his head toward her, then back toward the road. “Where did that come from?”

“Just curious.”

He pulled into a parking lot. “I can sing. Why do you ask?”

Should she tell him about her list? Definitely not. “Guess I'm nosy.” She hopped out of the truck before he could open her door.

“What about you? Do you sing?” He asked as they walked side by side into the steak house.

“I can carry a tune.” He didn't need to know she'd placed in every singing competition she'd ever entered—it was embarrassing to share that kind of thing. The talent shows on television were too terrifying to consider participating in, and all but one of the competitions she'd been in seemed insignificant by comparison. She shook her head at the direction of her thoughts. Here she was with a gorgeous, sweet man, and all she could think about was her list.

Derek left her for a moment to give his name to the hostess and a few minutes later she called them and guided them through the dimly lit space. Every table sat in its own alcove, making the setting very romantic. A flickering fire in the oversize stone fireplace against the far wall created dancing shadows. Glass tinkled and soft music filtered through the speakers.

“Will this work?” the hostess asked.

“It's fine. Thanks,” Derek said as he sat and accepted the one-sided paper menus from the hostess before she walked away. “They don't have much to choose from.”

“That means what they do have will be extra delicious since they aren't trying to make too many things.”

“That's a nice way to look at it.” He laid the paper on the table. “Tell me about yourself, Kayla. Every time I see you, you surprise me.”

She blinked rapidly. “Really? How so?”

“For example, the first time we met, you seemed…frazzled and a little irritated.”

Her cheeks heated. “Oh. You're way more observant than I realized. I
was
frazzled and irritated. It was the day before my least favorite day of the year, and I was anxious for your delivery.”

“Least favorite day? You mean you don't like Valentine's Day? Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “Where do I start?”

* * *

Derek sat back and crossed his legs at his ankles. He'd definitely touched on a hot topic with Kayla. He'd never seen her so animated.

“I know it seems crazy for someone who owns a florist shop to hate one of our busiest holidays, but really, why do we have to have a special day to show someone we love them? Shouldn't we be doing that all the time? And what about those people who don't have a special someone? It's depressing! On top of that, expectations are so high for a day like Valentine's that we set ourselves up for disappointment.”