Be Mine

Published by Mergenie Books

Copyright 2013 Judi Fennell

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[email protected]. This book is a work of fiction. The
characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products
of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used
fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is
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“
Doug’s not coming.” Megan’s
roommate, Matt—and his bag of chips—landed next to her on the sofa
while she checked her texts for the third time. In twenty
minutes.

Typical Matt; diss her boyfriend then watch
basketball.

Typical Doug; no message.

She crossed her arms. She’d had such hopes.
Doug had said he’d be here. That nothing would keep him from taking
her out tonight of all nights.

They’d been dating for three years and the
pregnancy scare two months ago had her thinking about their
relationship. Surely Doug was, too? After all, it
was
Valentine’s Day.

“
I ordered Chinese.” Matt tipped the
chips toward her.

“
Thanks.” Barbecue. Her favorite.
And Chinese—her favorite comfort food. She hated that Matt knew
this would happen. He’d always said Doug wasn’t the man for her.
Always
said it.

But seriously…that from Mr. Playboy?
The
authority on relationships? He’d had so many girlfriends he’d
stopped bringing them home for—what, two years now?

Megan munched the chip. Had it been that
long?

“
East or West?” Matt held out a
quarter.

She smiled. What a great housemate: Chinese
food
and
dibs on the remote, their typical bet.

“
East.” Not that she knew who was on
the team, but it didn’t matter. Watching sports with Matt was
always a trip. He could keep her entertained through the whole game
and not make her feel stupid for not knowing who was who or what
penalty was what.

He flipped the coin. Tails.

“
I win.” Matt always picked tails.
Megan teased him it was because he liked
getting
tail. But
he hadn’t talked about anyone lately.

“
Hey, Matt—”

The doorbell rang and Matt jumped up to answer
it. “Food’s here.”

Man, his butt looked good in those
jeans.

Megan blinked.
What
? Since when did she
notice things like
that
about Matt? Sure, he was hot, but
she stayed away from love-’em-and-leave-’em types. Besides… he was
Matt
.

That’s why she’d thought Doug was The One.
Hard-working, ambitious, financially responsible… He was the one
who’d suggested a roommate, though Matt wasn’t who he’d
envisioned.

But Matt was Stephanie’s cousin, not some
psycho. And he’d had girlfriends—gorgeous model-types—so there’d
never been any chance he’d even look at Megan that way, let alone
make a move.

Doug hadn’t been pleased, but he hadn’t argued
either. He’d also barely spoken to Matt.

Matt had had a
lot
to say about
Doug.

“
Hunan shrimp, chow mein, eggrolls,
and of course, fortune cookies.” Matt swung the bags onto the table
while Megan cleared off his architectural designs. “Food helps when
you’ve been stood up.”

“
How would you know?”

“
My sister. She gained ten pounds
with the last break-up.”

“
And you’re helping me do that? Gee,
thanks. What a friend.” She took one of the containers he handed
her anyway. One container of chicken chow mein wouldn’t put her in
the next size.

“
You’ll be fine, Megs.”

Megs
. Doug hated that nickname—which
made Matt use it. It seemed he went out of his way to annoy Doug,
though, to be fair, pretty much
anything
he did annoyed
Doug.

She glanced at him. Reclining against the
cushion, ankles crossed, Matt was the epitome of carefree, and that
had always bugged Doug, too. “How does he expect to succeed if he’s
sharing an old house with you? He’s a loafer, Megan, playing at
being an architect. If he misses a rent payment, kick him
out.”

But Matt hadn’t missed a payment and he wasn’t
a loafer. And the house wasn’t old. Dilapidated maybe, but she
preferred “charming.”

Just last weekend, she and Matt had tried to
name which symphony the wheezing heater was struggling to play.
Doug had done that heavy-breath-down-the-nose glare when he’d found
them shouting composers’ names over the bellowing
appliance.

She bit into an eggroll. Well, since Doug
hadn’t called—and wasn’t here—he lost the right to complain about
her house—or anything else.

Megan stopped chewing.

That’s right; he did. And not just because of
tonight.

Doug hadn’t been calling lately. He’d been
working later. Had begged off Stephanie’s wedding. Hadn’t even
called to cancel tonight.

“
Penny for ’em.” Matt waved a shrimp
under her nose. “Or has inflation upped the price?”

She couldn’t stay grumpy when Matt was being
charming. Which was pretty much all of the time. Seriously, the guy
didn’t
have
a bad mood. It could get annoying.

So was the fact that he’d been right about
Doug.

She bit the shrimp. “As much as I hate to say
it, I think you’re right.”

“
Oh?”

“
Doug’s been distant
lately.”

“
Lately? Megs, the guy’s had you at
arm’s length since I moved in.”

“
No, he hasn’t.”

Matt snorted. “Name the last time he stayed
over.”

“
He’s private. Doesn’t like anyone
knowing our business.”

“
Name the last time you stayed
there.”

She couldn’t. After that pregnancy scare… She’d
hoped tonight would change things between them.

Megan put her eggroll down. Who was she
kidding? Doug wanted out.

And other than being annoyed that he hadn’t
manned-up to tell her, Megan was, surprisingly, okay with
that.

She reached for the eggroll again and caught a
glimpse of one of Matt’s designs. It was of her house, only the one
on paper was painted yellow instead of her decades’ old
some-shade-of-beige. The gables had been re-shingled. There was a
white picket fence out front.

Why would Matt “fix up” her house?

“
What’s going on behind those
beautiful blue eyes, Megs?”

That
got her attention. “You think my
eyes are beautiful?”

“
I think all of you is beautiful.”
Matt’s voice was soft. Husky.

“
You… do?”

He took her hand. “I do. Have for a long
time.”

“
You’ve never said
anything.”

He shrugged with his super charming smile and
the dimple that flashed in his right cheek. “What could I say?
‘Ditch Doug for me’?”

“
Is that what you want?”

“
Among other things.”

He ran a finger along her jaw and it made her
shiver. In a really good way. “What are you saying,
Matt?”

He pulled something else out from the bag the
food had come in.

A long-stemmed rose. Yellow. Her
favorite.

“
I’m saying Happy Valentine’s Day,
Megs. Would you be mine?”

“
Your valentine?”

“
That.” Matt brushed the petals
along her nose. “And so much more.”

~ ~ ~

Happy Valentine’s Day!

About the Author

Judi Fennell has had her nose in a book and her
head in some celestial realm all her life, including those early
years when her mom would exhort her to “get outside!” instead of
watching
Bewitched
or
I Dream of Jeannie
on
television. So she did—right into Dad’s hammock with her Nancy Drew
books.

These days she’s more likely to have her nose
in her laptop and her head (and the rest of her) at a favorite
writing spot, but she’s still reading either her latest manuscript
or friends’ books.