A Match Made by Cupid (Harlequin Special Edition) (20 page)

The bigger part, though, was so much simpler. So simple, she didn’t know why it had taken her so long to grasp on to it. Jace loved her and she loved him. That love was a gift. To let fear—
her
fear—squander that gift into nothingness would be a massive, unbelievable, unthinkable mistake. So, no, she was not about to let that happen.

She and Jace belonged together. Of that, she was finally sure.

Chapter Fourteen

E
arly Valentine’s Day morning, Melanie woke with a jittery, excited feeling flowing through her veins. The feeling was similar to waking up on Christmas morning when she was a child. But if everything panned out as Melanie hoped, today would be way better than any Christmas she’d ever celebrated. Way, way, way better.

Before she started on her preparations for the most excellent day ever, she retrieved the file folder on David Prentiss. The one that Jace had given her. She thought again about what her mother had told her. Maybe she could understand, if not like, her father leaving her mother for a woman he loved more. But leaving her, a seven-year-old child, because the woman he loved had demanded it of him was beyond Melanie’s comprehension.

At first, she’d been angry. Now, though, she mostly felt disgust. Mom was right: David Prentiss was a stupid, stupid man, and Melanie didn’t need anything from him. Didn’t need to look at him, confront him or say one word to him. Simply speaking: he didn’t deserve her attention or her time. Not now, not ever.

She tossed the entire file in the garbage.
Now
she could start her day.

After showering and getting dressed, Melanie laid out the three presents she’d purchased for Jace. On the first present—a teeny-tiny bikini that Melanie had only ever worn once—she attached a card that said: “For yard work.”

On the card for gift number two—an old-fashioned wind-up clock that she’d snapped off the bit of plastic needed to wind it up, she wrote: “For you to fix.” And finally, for the third gift, which was a tin of brownies, she signed the card with: “For your sweet tooth.”

She wrapped each present separately in bright red wrapping paper and then put all three in a larger box. At that bottom of the larger box, she’d taped one more card. That envelope read “Open last,” but on the inside, she’d put “I’m mad about you, Jace. And I am in your corner. Hopefully, for the rest of my life. Maybe we can talk about that? I’m waiting at home. Love, M.”

That last bit had taken her forever to write. She wanted him to know that she was in this one hundred percent. That she was sure enough of him, of her love for him and his love for her, that she’d marry him today if that were possible. That if he still wanted her, she was his. And maybe she hadn’t come right out and proposed, but Jace was a smart man.

He’d catch on.

She was positive of that, which was why she’d asked Kurt for the day off. The boss had grumbled but had given it to her easily enough. He’d shocked her when he mentioned that Jace wasn’t coming in on Valentine’s Day, either. Then Kurt winked at her and told her to have fun.

Maybe he knew something she didn’t. Perhaps Jace had his own surprise in mind, but if so, Melanie had every intention of beating him to the punch.

Once the larger box was wrapped, she hauled it to the car. Her goal was to drop off the present before Jace woke up. Her thinking was he’d step outside to get his morning paper, see the bright red box, open each of the gifts and then show up at her place. At that point, she quit speculating. Whatever happened then, happened.

Wow. Just the thought sent shivers through her entire body.

After double-checking Jace’s address—he lived in Northwest Portland—she turned on the radio and sang the entire way there. Had she ever been this content, this excited about what might happen, about what her future could look like?

No. Never.

When she found his street, she slowed down to look for his address.
There.
Jace’s house had an angled roof, wide windows and a long, narrow front porch. She drove past, pulling her car alongside the curb a couple of houses down. Her legs trembled when she stood, and her palms were damp when she lifted the present. Approaching his house, she stood straighter, watching his door and his windows, hoping he wouldn’t see her coming.

The driveway was empty, but he had a garage. Likely, the Super Sport was tucked safely inside. Adrenaline pumping, Melanie dashed up the porch steps, set the present on top of his newspaper and returned to her car as fast as her legs could carry her. She gave herself a minute to catch her breath. This secret-admirer stuff wasn’t so easy.

Tempted though she was to stay, to watch Jace’s front door with an eagle eye, she kept to her plan and headed toward home. If he had the day off, when would he wake? How long would she have to wait to hear from him? It didn’t matter. She’d be there whenever he showed. What mattered was that she’d finally propelled herself into action.

Her racing pulse calmed the closer she got to home, as did her breathing. Both of which would likely speed up again the second she saw Jace. With a smile on her lips, she slowed her car, pulled into her driveway and parked. Now all she had to do was wait.

It wasn’t until she was halfway up her porch stairs that she saw a large, red-wrapped gift sitting on top of
her
newspaper.

Jace.
He’d been here. While she’d been at his place.

Whipping her body around so fast that her vision swam, she searched the street for his bright orange car. Nope. Just like with the flowers, not a glimmer in sight.

She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Who would’ve guessed they’d have the same plan for the same day? And she thought she was being so clever.

Picking up the present, she weighed it in her hands. It was a medium-size box, but rather light, and she didn’t see a card. Though maybe he’d done the same as she and put the card inside the box. Pleasure soaked in as she wondered what he might have chosen for her.

Melanie stood there, staring at the box, unsure of what to do. Should she open the gift now or wait for Jace? Maybe she should go back to his place to see if she could catch him there. Or…perhaps she should sit her butt down on the porch steps, stare longingly at the street and jump up and down for joy the very second she saw his orange car.

Yes. She liked that plan the most. Besides, that trembling, shivering, sweaty-palm, crazy-pulse thing was happening to her again. She probably shouldn’t drive under those conditions. Keeping the gift in her arms, Melanie sat down on the top porch step and craned her neck in the direction she figured Jace would drive in. And then, she waited.

Chilly winds froze her cheeks within minutes, but she didn’t care. After a while, her bottom numbed as the cold seeped in through her clothes. Again, she didn’t care. She didn’t move, either. Not to go inside where she could wait in warmth and comfort, not to her car where she’d have almost the same vantage point but would be out of the wind.

She
couldn’t
move. Not until she saw the man she loved.

Her eyes began to water, a result of the wind and the cold, and probably also from the emotion zipping through her with such ferocity. That was okay. She’d wait here, just as he’d waited for her all of those weeks. Well, she wouldn’t be able to sit here for weeks. Or heck, even another thirty minutes. But for now, she liked the symbolism.

Another ten minutes or so passed when a new thought occurred. What if…oh, Dear God. What if, at this very moment, he was waiting for her on
his
porch?

Thankfully, that thought had barely processed when she saw a blur of bright orange several blocks in the distance. A blur of bright orange that was coming her way. She decided at that second that orange, especially that shade of orange, was her new favorite color. She might go out and buy an entire new wardrobe in that color.

His car got closer and closer. Soon enough, she could even see the shaggy cut of his dark hair through his windshield. And then, there he was, parking the car in front of her house. Walking—no, striding—up the sidewalk, up the walkway, up the stairs…to her.

“Jace,” she said, her voice much more a whisper than anything else. “I’ve been waiting for you. Sitting right here.”

And then he smiled, and her heart melted and her toes tingled—though perhaps that was another side effect from the cold—and her entire body went weightless. If her thighs weren’t frozen to the porch, she might have even floated away.

“Hi, there,” Jace said, his eyes so dark they were almost black. “I was waiting, too. For a while, but then I got impatient. You didn’t answer your cell.”

“Inside,” she murmured. “Didn’t think I’d be out for long.”

“Ah.” He set his present down, crouched in front of her, and touched her cheek. “Hey,” he said softly, “You’re freezing. Let’s go in. We can open our gifts there.”

“Okay, but you might have to help me up. I’m sort of frozen.” She smiled. Brightly, broadly. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Jace.”

“Happy St. Valentine’s Day, Mel,” Jace said, his voice warm and husky, soft and sensual. God, the man had an excellent voice. The sound of it made her tingle all that much more. “Let’s get you inside. You really look cold.”

They went in, deposited their individual presents on the coffee table and sat next to each other on the sofa. His thigh pressed against hers, and the warmth of him radiated into her. Again, the feeling of Christmas-morning joy came over her. But it wasn’t Christmas. Heck, maybe after today, St. Valentine’s Day would be her favorite holiday.

She liked that thought, too.

“How did you know I’d be here?” she asked. “Did Kurt tell you I’d used a vacation day?”

“No. I just assumed you’d be home.” Jace reached over and lightly pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m glad I assumed right.”

“Me, too.” Melanie cleared her throat. “So, presents. I’d like you to open mine first. If you don’t mind.”

But Jace was already shaking his head. “No dice, Mel. You have to go first.” He picked up the gift and set it on her lap, as if to say he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I thought about this one for a while. I hope you…I hope you like it.”

Impatient for him to get to her presents, she ripped the paper off as if it truly were Christmas morning. Lifting the lid, she blinked. Then, she touched the soft, blue, folded-up square of thick, fuzzy fabric. “A blanket?” she asked. Okay. So maybe this wasn’t the most romantic gift she’d ever received, but still. Jace had given it to her. That was romantic enough.

“Pick it up, Mel,” he said thickly. “It isn’t a blanket.”

Melanie nodded and lifted the material out of the box with a flip. The soft fabric unfolded and spread across the top of her legs. “It’s a Snuggie? You bought me a Snuggie?”

“Not just any Snuggie.” His mouth split into a wide grin at her look of bewilderment. “A special Snuggie.”

“There are special Snuggies?” she asked, working to keep a straight face.

“There are.” He reached over to pull and tug and straighten until the Snuggie was out flat. “Look, it’s a Snuggie made for two. Even has three sleeves, Mel,” he said, as if the entire idea tickled him to no end.

Melanie laughed at his look of delight. She couldn’t help it.

“I thought, hoped, that you’d give me good news today. So I thought…and hoped…that maybe we could have a picture of us taken in this to use for our new column.” Then he gave her a sweet, almost bashful smile. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“I love the Snuggie, Jace. I love the sentiment behind it, too.” God, she could hardly stand the wait. She wanted to shout out that she loved him with every cell in her body. But… “Open my present. I think that will answer your question.”

So he did. Following her lead, he tore the paper off in huge strips. When he saw the three wrapped gifts nestled inside the larger box, his forehead creased. “Does it matter which order I open them?”

She shook her head no, leaned forward and waited with bated breath. This was going to kill her. No doubt about it.

The bikini came first. His jaw worked as he stared at the flimsy straps of fabric in confusion. “Um, Mel. I don’t think this will fit me, and I’m not really into—”

“Read the card,” she said, pressing her lips together tightly to stop herself from laughing. Because he was too damn slow, she plucked the card out of his hand. “Never mind, I’ll read it for you. It says, ‘For yard work.’”

His gaze switched from the bikini to the card and back again. Comprehension sifted over him. “Veronica and Geoffrey. This is your way of telling me…”

“That you have two more presents to open,” she teased. “So get to it, boy.”

“Boy? I’ll have you know—”

Melanie tossed another present at him. This one turned out to be the brownies. He read the card this time, and the air between them crackled with heat. With electricity.

“Maybe I’ll feed these to you later.” His voice held the hint of a promise she intended to make him keep.

But all she said was, “Go on. There’s one more present.”

He opened the third gift—the clock—quickly. He waggled one brow, saying, “Sorry, babe. This isn’t repairable. Guess you’ll have to find another way to wake up in the morning. I’m an early riser. So, if you’re looking for volunteers…”

Melanie lunged for the last card before Jace even saw it. Nerves tumbled through her, and her mouth went dry. Would he know what she was getting at? If he did, would he say yes?

“This one, I want to read to you.” The second she spoke, she knew she couldn’t. Wasn’t quite that brave. Not yet, anyway. Thrusting the card toward him, she said, “Actually, no. You read it, but to yourself.”