Valentine s Love Read online

  Valentine’s Love

  Helena Stone

  Copyright

  Valentine’s Love

  First edition: February 2018

  Copyright @ 2018 by Helena Stone

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All trademarks are the property of their respective owners.

  This book is intended for an 18+ audience. It is a gay romance containing graphic language and explicit sexual content between consenting adults.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Notice

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  It takes a team to put a book together, and I’m deeply grateful for the help I’ve received while writing and creating this e-book.

  Thank you Dermot, Tanja, Erin, Lily, Paul, and Adira for your thorough and speedy proof- and beta reading services, not to mention all your invaluable advice.

  Further heartfelt gratitude goes to Sally Hopkinson for agreeing to edit my story to a very short deadline, and to Isobel, K.C., and Posy for their infinite patience while guiding me through the self-publishing process.

  The gorgeous cover wouldn’t exist without the graphic talents of Theo Fenraven.

  And finally, thank you Isobel Starling for organizing the MM Valentine’s Day giveaway which inspired me to write Valentine’s Love. Without you, this book in its current form, wouldn’t exist.

  Dedication

  For Dermot, who is and always will be the love of my life.

  Chapter One

  And so it begins … again.

  I’d reached my destination and took a moment to take in the changes in the shop window. Nothing in it resembled the winter wonderland that had been showcased there when I’d left on December thirty-first. The only thing that remained unchanged was the name of my shop, written in gold lettering on the glass: Spoilt for Choice.

  I caught sight of my reflection and puffed out a frustrated breath. Whereas the display greeting me was unique, inviting, and memorable, I could only be described as average—average height, average looks, an average Joe if ever I’d seen one. I shook the thought off; that day and the subsequent month would be hard enough without me thinking myself into a bad mood. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

  “Welcome back, boss.” My assistant manager grinned at me when I walked in for the first time in two weeks.

  “Good morning, Claire.” I came to a standstill and allowed my eyes to roam around the familiar and much loved shop floor. “I see you have everything under control, as always.”

  Her grin turned into a smile with more than a touch of relief in it. It was funny how, after working for me for three years, this usually sassy young woman still felt insecure about her talents when it came to decorating the shop with seasonal merchandise.

  “You approve then?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “When have I ever disliked your ideas?”

  She shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything. Besides …”

  I waited, wondering whether she’d have the courage to finish that sentence. Not that she needed to say the words. She’d been working for me for long enough to know me and my likes and dislikes. And dislike wasn’t quite a strong enough word when it came to the upcoming annual love-fest known as St. Valentine’s Day.

  The moment she averted her gaze, I knew she wasn’t going to say what was so clearly on the tip of her tongue.

  “I have the coffee made,” she said instead. “Shall I get you a cup?” She turned and walked toward the tiny kitchen in the far corner of the premises, almost before I had the opportunity to nod.

  I sighed, annoyed with myself. My staff shouldn’t feel the need to tiptoe their way around me for the next four weeks, but obviously, that was exactly how it was going to be. Making my way to the center of the shop, I took in the sea of scarlet assaulting my senses and my heart.

  I loved my shop. I first started dreaming about owning a gift shop when I was about fourteen years old. When I found myself in a position to open one, fifteen years later, it had almost felt too good to be true. Even if my partner at the time had viewed the whole project with skepticism, to put it mildly.

  I mentally shook myself and inhaled deeply, hoping against hope to loosen the sudden tightness in my chest. A lot had changed since the day I’d officially opened the store six years earlier.

  “Here you go.” Claire had managed to sneak up on me while I’d been lost in my gloomy thoughts and held out a large, Christmas-themed mug filled to the brim with black coffee, or, as I liked to think of it, my chosen elixir.

  “Thank you.” I took a sip before continuing. “You really did very well here. The place looks wonderful … festive. That last word burned on my tongue. For reasons I didn’t want to go into, not even in the privacy of my own thoughts, “festive” was the last word I associated with Valentine’s Day.

  A huge grin erupted on Claire’s face. “I’m so glad you like it. Valentine’s Day is my favorite when it comes to decorating the shop.” She studied me for a moment before adding, “Well, in general really.”

  I forced myself to smile at her. After all, it wasn’t her fault I detested February 14th. In fact, up until three years earlier, I had been as big a fan, if not bigger, of the annual celebration of love as she was. If it hadn’t been for …

  “I know,” I said, forcing my thoughts away from the treacherous path they were threatening to follow. “And it shows. You’ve managed to showcase your love for love in these displays.”

  I wasn’t exaggerating or trying to make her feel good either; the place really did look wonderful … if you happened to be into declarations of undying devotion and the color red. Huge heart-shaped balloons, vases filled with silk roses and tulips, prominent displays of jewelry, and teddy bears of various sizes, to name but a few items, occupied every inch of floor and shelf space. My heart stuttered as soon as my gaze came to rest on those bears. After three years, I could deal with the rest of it, but I didn’t expect to ever reach the point where I could look at those stuffed creatures without remembering what I had lost. To distract myself, I focused on the table featuring jokey gifts, but the humor in the display wasn’t working its magic.

  Claire, always the perceptive one, said nothing as she reached out and gently squeezed my upper arm before turning away and walking to the front of the shop to open the door.

  Get a grip, you eejit. The voice screamed in my head. I had to pull myself together and stop acting like a teenager trying to get over his first case of puppy love. I almost laughed out loud when I realized I’d followed the exact same line of thought twelve months previously.

  Determined not to allow myself to drown in melancholic thoughts, I walked to the back of the shop. The premises I owned weren’t big enough to hold a separate office, but I had created a small space for myself behind two large, floor-to-ceiling display cases. I settled behind the tiny desk, placed my almost empty mug in front of me, and turned on the computer. If I couldn’t keep my thoughts and feelings under control while on the shop floor, I’d occupy myself by examining the figures showcasing how the business had performed over the two weeks I had been away on leave. I fully trusted Claire to have run the place efficiently, but it was my livelihood, and it made sense to make sure I was up to speed on all de
tails.

  I barely noticed when, a good stretch of time later, Claire picked up my, by then empty, cup and replaced it with a full one moments later. By the time it occurred to me to thank her, she’d disappeared from view again, and I could hear her talking to a customer. I picked up the drink and listened to the exchange for a moment.

  “No.” Claire sounded emphatic and kind at the same time. “I don’t think you’re too early at all. I like to make my purchases early while there’s still a lot of choice. The closer we get to February 14th, the more predictable and boring the remaining gifts appear to get, don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Whoever Claire was talking to had a deep and melodious voice, one that captured my attention, almost against my will. Curiosity got the better of me, and I abandoned my figures, walked to the gap between the two sets of shelves, and snuck a look, instinctively taking a small step back when I noticed how close to me they were. Near enough for me to touch the big man’s shoulders without having to do more than raise my arm, should I have wanted to. My assistant was all but invisible, her small posture completely blocked from my view by the broad build of the customer standing with his back to me.

  “So,” Claire asked. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he said, his voice betraying both humor and a slight note of uncertainty. “I don’t actually know the person I intend to surprise this Valentine’s Day.”

  “Oh!” Claire’s exclamation held so much excitement I imagined her bouncing on her toes while she spoke. “A secret admirer; I love it. It sure doesn’t get more romantic than that.”

  Mystery man—how the hell did I end up thinking about him in those terms?—laughed, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, something like that. And, since I’ve never done anything like this before, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  “Tell me something about the person you’re buying for.”

  That was one of the reasons Claire was the perfect employee, as far as I was concerned. She never assumed anything about our customers or who they wanted to surprise with a present.

  “Well,” the man responded. “He’s male and probably more or less my age, although I’m not entirely sure about that last part.”

  “In that case, I shouldn’t be serving you.”

  Claire’s remark shocked me to the core. Was she refusing to help a customer because he was looking for a present for another man? It didn’t make sense. I’d told her I was gay before I actually started her formal interview back when she applied to work for me. She’d told me in no uncertain terms that she didn’t care what I was, and her behavior since had always confirmed that statement. From the way the man’s shoulder blades appeared to pull closer together, I surmised he wasn’t impressed with her response either.

  “Let me get my boss.” Claire still sounded friendly and unconcerned, as if completely unaware of the unease she’d just caused. “I’m sure he’s far more qualified to advise you than I am.”

  A moment later, she appeared on the left of the customer, who still faced away from me. The moment she caught my eye, a blush erupted on her face, but her smile didn’t fade, and I didn’t think it had been her choice of words that had caused the redness on her cheeks.

  “Ty, there you are.”

  Much to my amazement, she didn’t appear to be ashamed so much as surprised to find me standing there. Had she really no idea how insulting the implication of what she’d just said had been, both toward me and, far more importantly, toward the customer?

  I glared at her, smoothing my features out again as I noticed the man in question turning to face me.

  For a heartbeat or two, I forgot to breathe as I took in his face and body. If I’d still allowed myself to harbor an image of my ideal partner, he would have been it. I’d already established he was tall and broad just from looking at his back. The frontal view turned what had looked good into perfection. He was a bear, if ever I saw one. His short brown hair looked soft and framed a round and friendly face. His small but full beard didn’t quite succeed in hiding his generous and very kissable lips.

  What the fuck? I tried to remember the last time looking at a man had generated such thoughts. Actually, I could. But those were times and a man I’d forbidden myself to think about three years earlier.

  “Allow me to apologize for my assistant’s inexplicable behavior,” I said, not even sorry to drop Claire in it. “How can I help you?” I gave him my full attention but not before I noticed Claire flinching as my words registered.

  “No apology needed.” The man gave me a charming smile, which did nothing to reassure me; far from it in fact. “As I said to this very helpful young lady, I’m looking for one or more presents for a man I’ve been admiring from afar for a few months now, and I’m not quite sure what to get.” His smile stretched wider, turning into a grin. “Until this year, I couldn’t be bothered with Valentine’s Day, so it’s all new to me.”

  Ignoring Claire, I stepped closer to him and steered him toward a display table filled with gifts aimed at male recipients. “Have you any idea what this man might be into?” I asked.

  He thought for a moment, giving me the opportunity to notice that his body was as appealing as his face and back had been. It was hard to tell since he was wearing both a shirt and a sweater under his jacket, but I imagined his body would be mainly muscles with little to no excess fat. I allowed myself to enjoy the fact that I had to tilt my head back a bit when I wanted to make eye contact before giving myself a virtual kick up the backside. For three long years, I hadn’t been able to muster even an ounce of interest in men, regardless of what they looked like. Being attracted to a customer, especially one who had obviously already fallen for another man, was as useless as it was inexplicable.

  “Not really,” he admitted. “When I said I’ve been admiring him from afar, that’s exactly what I meant. I’ve never spoken to him. In fact, I’m fairly sure he’s blissfully unaware that I even exist.”

  I caught the moment the light in his eyes dimmed. Then he blinked and his gaze regained its previous happy glow, leaving me wondering if I’d imagined the momentary sadness.

  “Which is why I came here,” he continued, apparently unaware of the turmoil raging through my head. “I’ve walked by this shop often enough to know you sell a very wide and well-selected collection of possible gifts. And now that I’m inside … Well, all I can say is that the inventory certainly lives up to the store’s name. I’m just not convinced being spoilt for choice is going to help me.” He winked at me.

  His words warmed my heart, and before I could stop myself, I responded. “Thank you. I’m proud of my business, and it’s always good to hear others perceive it the way I hope they might.”

  “This is yours? You own this shop?” His tone of voice betrayed his surprise.

  “Yes,” I responded, suddenly weary. He wouldn’t have been the first person to tell me that I didn’t appear to be the type to own a gift shop, whatever that might mean. The grin on his face following my words reassured me that his surprise had nothing to do with him disapproving. I had no idea why that conclusion calmed me down, but I appreciated the result nonetheless.

  “The good news is that you’ve still got a full month before you actually have to hand any gifts over.” I pushed the conversation forward, determined not to allow his presence or my wayward thoughts to make me anymore uncomfortable than I already was.

  He glanced at his watch. “That certainly is good news because my break is almost over.” He stared at me for a moment, as if debating his next sentence. “If I came back around at the same time tomorrow, would you be available to talk me through some of the options? Maybe you could give me an idea as to what sort of man would like what kind of present?”

  “Of course.” My response was automatic. “Your break starts at”—I studied the clock hanging behind the counter—“twelve?”

  “Yes, I’m usually away from the office for half an ho
ur from twelve. If that works for you too, I’ll be here at midday tomorrow.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I said automatically before realizing that I actually meant it. “I’ll give your dilemma some thought in the meantime. It’s not always easy to come up with a meaningful present for a virtual stranger. Especially if you want to make a good impression and not appear presumptuous.” I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

  “Thank you.” The relieved expression on his face matched his words. “I’m already looking forward to finding out what you’ll come up with.”

  “No pressure then,” I muttered the words as he made his way toward the door, unable to stop myself from admiring his arse, beautifully framed in his perfectly fitting trousers.

  Turning to go back to my computer and administration, I found myself face-to-face with a smirking Claire.

  “I’ll have words with you later.” I scowled at her. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with you today, but that’s not how we deal with customers, no matter what their orientation might be.”

  As she opened her mouth to respond and, no doubt, defend herself, I pushed past Claire. Much as I needed to talk to her, it would have to wait. My thoughts were a confused mess, and whatever peace of mind I usually possessed had abandoned me. First and foremost, I needed to be on my own.

  I smiled ruefully as I sank into my office chair. I usually saw going over the figures and dealing with taxes and other forms as a necessary evil. That day, they provided me with a welcome refuge from the shop floor, from having to deal with Claire and, most importantly, from the unexpected and not entirely welcome reaction my customer had elicited in me.

  Chapter Two

  “Ty?”

  Claire’s voice pulled my attention away from the spreadsheet I’d been studying on my computer screen. It had taken me ages to find the peace of mind necessary to concentrate on the numbers, and I had lost all sense of time in the process. “Yes, Claire.”