A Valentine for Kayla

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Authors: Kimberly Rose Johnson

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“Would you like these wrapped up?”

Derek picked up the bouquet. “That won't be necessary.” He handed her the flowers. “For you.”

“Me? But…I can't—”

“Why not? You don't like flowers?”

“I do. But I have tons of flowers at the shop. You don't need to buy me flowers.”

He raised a brow. “Really? When was the last time you took fresh flowers home?”

Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Um…well—” She shot him a tentative grin. “Sure there's no girlfriend who's going to get jealous?”

“Positive. I'm very much single.”

“Well…thank you.” The gold flecks in her eyes danced.

Derek moved toward the door and glanced over his shoulder. With a wink, he left. He was enjoying being ordinary Derek Wood, deliveryman.

Kimberly Rose Johnson
writes romances that warm the heart and feed the soul. She holds a degree in behavioral science from Northwest University. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of twenty-four years. Writing is her passion, and she is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. She enjoys taking long walks with her husband and dog, reading, dark chocolate and time with friends.

Books by Kimberly Rose Johnson

Love Inspired Heartsong Presents

The Christmas Promise

A Romance Rekindled

A Holiday Proposal

A Match for Meghan

A Valentine for Kayla

KIMBERLY ROSE
JOHNSON
A Valentine for
Kayla

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

—Jeremiah
29:11

This book is dedicated to my valentine, my husband.
Thanks for your patience and support.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“I
hate Valentine's Day.” Kayla Russell secured a flower arrangement in the delivery box, then moved on to the next one in a long line of vases and baskets filled with colorful flowers and greenery. Everywhere she looked there were hearts or cupids to remind her of the dreaded day.

Her best friend and business partner, Jill, shot her
the look
—the one that said
Spare me.
“I'm sure if you had a boyfriend, you'd feel differently.”

“Unlikely. Think about it—no matter how you look at it, unless your man is Prince Charming, there's no way he can live up to the hype. The day is one big disappointment.”

“I'm glad everyone doesn't feel that way or you and I would be out of business. Have you looked at the orders? I'm going to be working all night just to get everything finished in time for Charlie to deliver tomorrow.”

Kayla bit her bottom lip. Flowers and More depended on successful holidays to keep their doors open. Sure, they stocked gifts and music, but the big money came from days like Valentine's. She glanced at the clock. “I wish the UPS guy would get here. He's late, and I needed the cards for the flowers yesterday.”

“Use one of the generic cards with our logo. No one will care if there's not a heart on the card.”

“I care. I may not like the day, but I want our customers to feel treasured and loved.” Kayla fluffed and straightened a bow around a clear vase—perfect.

“For someone who despises the most romantic day of the year, you're quite the romantic.” A tiny smile crossed Jill's face before her brow puckered. “This arrangement is cramping my hand.”

“Want me to take over?”

Jill's gaze shot to her. “No way. The last time you arranged something, I had to tear it apart and start over.”

“I'm not that bad anymore. I've been watching you. I'm sure I've improved.” She crumpled a sheet of tissue paper and flung it at Jill.

“Mmm-hmm. You keep telling yourself that, but leave the floral design to me. You stick to making bows and running the store.”

The bell on the entrance jingled. “I hope that's UPS.” Kayla rushed through the swinging door into the main part of their shop and stopped midstep. That was not their normal UPS guy. This one hummed a familiar worship song and walked with a bounce in his step.

He stopped humming when his eyes rested on hers. “Afternoon.” He handed her a small box. “Busy day.”

She tore her gaze from his twinkling azure eyes. “Yes, here, too.” She raised the box. “Thanks—I've been waiting for these.”

“Welcome. Have a good one.”

“Come again soon.” The last word died on her lips as she realized how ridiculous she sounded. He'd be back only if she had something shipped UPS. It wasn't as if he were a customer.

He winked and strode his toned body out the door, then hopped into the large brown truck and rumbled down the road.

“Come again soon?” she muttered. He probably thought she was a nutcase, and today that wouldn't be far from the truth. But, oh, he was something, and so polite, too. Kayla mentally ticked through her must-have list of qualities for a husband. Tall, handsome, kind eyes, sings, loves the Lord—

“Earth to Dreamer. Come in, Dreamer.” Jill waved a hand in front of her face.

Kayla blinked rapidly and stepped back. “What did I miss?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I haven't seen that look on your face since…forever. What gives?”

“The new UPS driver caught my eye, and I made a fool of myself.”

“Really? I thought your dream man had to be rich. Last I checked, deliverymen don't rake in money.”

“I crossed that requirement off my list last year. I'm not a gold digger and that seemed gold diggerish.”

“Maybe there's hope for you yet,” Jill called over her shoulder as she pushed through the doorway and into the back room, where all the magic happened, as Jill liked to say.

Kayla carefully sliced open the box and pulled out the Valentine's cards. She hurriedly wrote out messages until her hand demanded she stop. Maybe a coffee break was in order—decaf since it was after five; otherwise, she'd never sleep tonight, no matter how busy her day. Just then the front door swung open and a harried man in a gray suit strode in.

“Is it too late to order a delivery for tomorrow?” He pulled out his wallet and handed her a clipping from a magazine. “My wife wants that.” He pointed to the page and rocked back on his heels.

Smart man, or maybe his wife was the smart one. She couldn't be disappointed if he gave her what she asked for.

“I think we can do the job. May I keep this?”

He nodded.

“Thanks. I'll attach it to the order form.” She passed him a Valentine's card and pen. “How about you write your wife a message while I ring this up?”

“You saved me. I'm on my way out of town and won't be here to deliver it in person.” The man scribbled out something, placed the card in an envelope and slid it across the counter.

“It's our pleasure. I hope your wife enjoys the flowers.” She took down the pertinent information, then collected his money. “Have a good one.”

“You, too.” The man rushed out as fast as he'd arrived.

Kayla took the order to Jill. “I have one more for you.” She waved the magazine clipping.

“No! I thought when I said I'd be here all night, you understood I couldn't take any more orders.”

“Come on—the guy's going out of town and wants his wife to be remembered. Surely you can accommodate him. Besides, I already told him we could and he's gone. We are a florist, and we can't not take orders. It doesn't work that way.”

Jill groaned. “You're killing me. At this rate, I'm going to run out of flowers. Please, no more special orders or someone will be disappointed when their flowers show up the day after Valentine's. Next year we need to hire an additional florist.”

Kayla saluted her friend. “I want to help. What can I do?”

Jill set her to doing prep work that a third grader wouldn't have problems with. Not that she was insulted, but lately she'd gotten bored with life at the flower shop. After nearly three years, the ten-hour days were wearing on her. And more than ever she wanted a special someone in her life, but as each year passed, she felt a little less hopeful.

A catalog caught her eye. Maybe she should place an order and have it sent UPS. She'd like to see the new guy again. He was the first man she'd met in a long time who even came close to fulfilling the qualities on her list. She fingered the glossy cover, then shook her head at the idea. She needed to get through tomorrow, and she didn't have time for silly schoolgirl thoughts—no matter how entertaining.

* * *

Derek Wood left the little flower shop determined to return soon, even if it meant buying something he didn't need. Not that he was in the market for a girlfriend, especially after that mess with Estelle Rogers, Hollywood's It girl. But he couldn't quench the interest the dark-haired beauty at the flower shop had sparked. Too bad he hadn't met her a few years ago; she would have been perfect for his music video.

But he'd left that life behind. Going on six months now with no paparazzi scoping out his every move. Praise the Lord he used a pseudonym, so they wouldn't trace him to his mother's home in Oak Knoll, Oregon. It was a good thing she'd moved here a couple of years ago, because if he'd been in his hometown, there'd have been no hiding from anyone.

He pulled into the UPS parking lot, locked up, then went inside to clock out. It'd been a long day, but he'd heard stories from other drivers that today was nothing compared with the Christmas season. He shuddered—maybe he'd move on by then. It wasn't as if he needed to work. He'd made plenty of money from his albums.

Derek clocked out, then headed to his F-250 4x4—a present he bought himself after returning from Italy.

He stepped up into his new baby, and with a flip of his wrist, the engine purred to life. He slid it into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. He should've bought flowers for his mom. There was time, though, since Valentine's Day was tomorrow. If Dad were still living, he would have made sure she had the biggest bouquet he could find. Derek sighed at the memory of his father's sudden death last year. His dad's heart condition had gone unnoticed until it was too late.

At least his mom had used the hard lesson with his dad to get her own heart checked out. As it turned out, hers wasn't in great shape, either—a big reason he'd come to town, to be with her.

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