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What the hell was he doing here?
Ten minutes later he was still in his front seat, trying to figure it out. Finally, after the third car pulled up next to him and the third driver gave hand signals, asking if he was about to leave, he made it onto the sidewalk, fed the meter and took the ten steps to the store’s front window.
Necklaces. Bracelets. Watches. And rings.
Gaudy, most of them, not very subtle. Too big. Too small, too ornate, too spare…
Wow. That one was…wow. Art deco, one diamond in the 198
middle, a small twist in the white metal on either side, then two more diamonds amid a glittering cascade of chips.
The ring was stunning. It would suit her perfectly.
Justin turned away. This was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
He was not going to ask Candy to marry him tonight. That old man must have slipped something into his oxygen.
Back home, he tried six different versions of a card to go with the flowers and finally decided to skip it. Everything sounded either overwrought, clichéd or too casual. And signing his name was superfluous since he’d be standing there with them on her doorstep.
He threw a quick glance in the mirror on his way out, and strode down his driveway, enjoying memories of the last time he’d made this trip, after watching her strip for him through his window. The thaw had held, and his California soul was brimming with relief, though more snow was predicted for early the next week. Tonight, however, it would feel like wonderful warm, romantic spring. Along with the weather, he’d felt a similar awakening from the long nightmare of lust and betrayal that had been his relationship with Angie to the bright sunshine of this wonderful woman. And to love? He was becoming pretty sure, yes.
Grinning like the fool he was, he leaped onto her front step and jammed his finger on the bell, heart thudding. He wasn’t planning to say anything right away. Just hand her the flowers and watch her face, which would tell him everything he needed to know.
Footsteps came closer. The handle turned. The door opened.
A man. Younger than Justin by a few years. Good-looking, not as tall as he was, thin but muscled. Light brown hair and eyes, handsome in a bland way. Wearing an undershirt. And pajama bottoms.
His eyes narrowed when he saw Justin behind the gigantic mass of roses. “Who are you?”
Justin swallowed. Please, please tell him this was one of Candy’s brothers. “Where’s Candy?”
“She’s setting up a party still. What’s with the flowers?”
“Are you one of her brothers?”
“No, I’m her boyfriend. Who the hell are you?”
Justin stared, heart chilling to ice. He wanted to drop the bouquet and punch this guy in his undershirted gut.
“I’m her neighbor.” Instead of the punch, he shoved the flowers over. “Give these to Candy. They were delivered to my house by mistake.”
“Who are they from?”
“How the hell should I know?” He turned around, walked as calmly as he could considering he was falling apart, to his house, through the back door and directly to the phone where he made one brief terse call, then dialed Troy.
“Hey, you doing anything tonight?”
“Uh, Valentine’s Day? What do you think?” Troy’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Why? Candy has a hideous best friend who rolled into town and you need to foist her off on someone?”
“No.” Justin let his body fall back against the wall next to the phone. “The date is off.”
“You’re kidding. What happened? You guys fought?”
“Not exactly.” He told Troy about meeting Candy’s boyfriend.
“What
the
hell? ”
“No idea.” He heard the misery in his voice and hated himself and all women. No, not all women, just the ones who could get to him like this. “Justin strikes again. Or should I say strikes out again.”
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“Makes perfect sense to me. All her back and forth, this costume and that. The girl’s a freak.” He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. Even with evidence right in his face. Right across the street. Right in pajamas.
“Are you home?”
He laughed bitterly. “I’m sure as hell not out on a date.”
