A Valentine's Wish

“Are you serious?” Andy glanced at his watch—3:22 p.m. The afternoon sun streaming through the slanted blinds confirmed that the world continued to revolve…and not around him. Had he really been sitting there staring at Lori’s gift for almost two hours? He groaned again.

Haley plopped down in the chair across from his and smoothed her cheerleading uniform over her legs. “I came by to tell you Jeremy and I tried making a strawberry cake for the youth service tomorrow. But he can’t cook at all. He totally ruined our practice cake.”

“You made a practice cake?” He bit back a grin. Somehow, he didn’t picture Jeremy hanging out in a kitchen more than absolutely necessary. But at least they were working together and learning teamwork, as was the goal.

“Tried to.” Haley tossed one braid over her shoulder. “The whole thing tasted like glue.” She wrinkled her nose.

He decided not to ask how she knew what glue tasted like. “And it’s entirely Jeremy’s fault because…?”

Haley stared, duh written all over her expression. “He was the one who stirred.”

“I see.” Andy rubbed his fingers over his eyes. Note to self: pick up dessert for Wednesday night. Maybe that was a good thing. He could swing by the Chocolate Gator, pick up some brownies and visit Lori. If he could find a way to secretly deliver the gift before the service tomorrow, then he could gauge her reaction while he was there.

He sat up straight in his chair. Finally, a plan. Now he just needed to figure out what to write on the card and how to deliver it to the shop. He frowned. There was the problem. He couldn’t just stroll inside with a mustache and hat and plunk the vase on the counter. She’d see right through it.

Right through him. He shuddered. No, he wasn’t ready for that yet. He needed to see how Lori responded before he could open himself to that kind of vulnerability. But who would take the gift and keep his secret? Who did he even trust with his secret? He drummed his nails on the desktop.

“Who are those for?” Haley leaned forward and brushed the petals of the lilies with her fingertips.

“Nobody.” The abrupt dismissal rolled off his tongue before Andy could process how suspicious it sounded, and he winced. Maybe Haley wouldn’t notice.

“Yeah, right.” She stood and leaned over the vase for a better view. “You have a girlfriend or something?”

Or something. Andy coughed. “No, they’re for…” He stopped. He couldn’t lie to his own youth-group member. “A friend.”

Haley winked. “A special friend?”

“Just a friend.” Andy stood as well and gestured toward the open door. “Thanks for stopping by. Don’t worry about getting the dessert. I’ll let you guys slide this time.” He’d probably pay for it later, but the last thing he needed was Haley snooping around and figuring out his plan. Despite her off-again, on-again status with Jeremy, the girl was a super romantic and had at one point tried to set everyone in the youth group up with someone else.

Haley stayed by the flowers, seemingly oblivious to his attempt at her dismissal. “Come on, who is it?” Her hand stilled on the petals. “Not Tawny.”

“No, not Tawny.”

Her breath exhaled in a whoosh, and she continued to fluff the arrangement. “Good. She’s not your type.”

Andy agreed. It was debatable if Tawny Sinclair was anyone’s type, especially after what she did to his best friend, Carter. Gracie and Carter’s relationship was almost over before it began, thanks to Tawny’s seductive meddling, but it had all worked out. At the end of the day, she was still a woman in need of God’s grace, a more conservative wardrobe and a healthy relationship—just definitely not with him. Thankfully Tawny’s youth-group volunteer days were long over.

“Then who are they for?”

Haley wouldn’t quit. Andy came around the front of the desk and steered her toward the door. “Isn’t it enough I’m letting you off dessert duty?”

“No.” She grinned. “I’m a teenager, Pastor Andy. You know it’s never enough. Come on, spill it.”

“Never.” He opened the door wider, and it caught the rug at their feet. He kicked to free it while Haley continued to meddle.

“I’ll do Wednesday desserts for two weeks.”

Andy straightened, feigning interest. “Make it four.”

“Okay, four.”

“Nope, still not telling.” He grinned back.

“Pastor Andy!” She huffed.

“I’m not telling you, because there’s nothing to tell.” A headache started at his temples. Why did he suddenly feel like he was in high school himself? The girl was persistent—no wonder Jeremy looked frustrated all the time. Going against his girlfriend had to be tougher than any opposing school’s quarterback.

“Will this tell me?” Haley dangled a small white card in front of his face.

The delivery card with Lori’s name on it.

The blood rushed to Andy’s head, and his temples pounded harder. When had she—He sucked in his breath. The little minx, when she’d been playing with the arrangement! He’d dodged a zillion buckets-over-the-door and glue-on-the-toilet-seat pranks, but this one he never saw coming.

“Haley, give me that card.” He held out his hand, but she pranced out of his reach and lifted the flap.

“For Lori?” She squealed, then clamped one hand over her mouth. “That’s so perfect. Why didn’t I think of it? And just in time for Valentine’s Day!”

His anger at her disobedience fled. “Perfect? You think so?” He quickly shook his head. Now he was encouraged at the approval of a high-schooler? Still, no one knew him and Lori better than the youth group.

“You guys would be great together.” Haley handed over the delivery card. “And I won’t tell. I promise. I want to help.”

“How in the world could you possibly…” Andy stopped as an idea formed. He looped one arm around Haley’s shoulders and leaned down. “Ever had experience as a delivery girl?”

Chapter Four

Lori stared at the flowers sitting on the counter. Where’d they come from? She’d gone into the kitchen to ask Monny about sugar-free chocolates, and when she came back, the flowers had appeared in all their fuchsia and burgundy glory. The store was deserted, as it was almost closing time, so it couldn’t have been a customer. Maybe Bella had ordered them for the display before she left for Shreveport.

“Summer? You know anything about these?” Doubtful. The twenty-year-old, multipierced college student usually had her nose buried in a magazine during the store’s late-afternoon lull. Or was jamming with her iPod.

Summer straightened from her slump against the counter and shrugged a thin shoulder. The fluorescent lights above glinted off her eyebrow ring. “Beats me. I must have been in the stockroom. Though I’m surprised I didn’t smell those things coming a mile away.”

Lori inhaled the spicy aroma of the lilies as she searched for a card among the pristine leaves. Smell? That was too harsh a word for this fragrance. The flowers were so pretty they almost seemed fake. She plucked the card from the greenery and blinked twice. Her name, scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting.

“What is that strong smell…?” Monny stepped through the kitchen and stopped short as Lori held up the bouquet.

“Someone sent me flowers.”

“I see that.” He coughed and backed away. “Very nice.”

“Stargazers, my favorites. But I don’t know why someone would have sent them. It’s not my birthday.”

“Anniversary?”

Lori frowned. “Anniversary of what?”

“Don’t tell me Americans don’t celebrate amore.” Monny patted his apron over his heart and grinned, his teeth appearing extra white in contrast to his olive skin.

Summer snorted and turned back to her magazine, shaking her head.