Secret Admirer: Secret Kisses / Hidden Hearts / Dream Marriage

“Well, she can just forget it. He’s not the literary type.”

“You shouldn’t have kissed him last Christmas at the Harpers’ party. And kept kissing him.”

Jane felt her face redden as it always did when she thought about those kisses. “He’s the one who kissed me under the mistletoe.”

“How well we remember the cherished moment.”

“He would have kissed anybody if she’d been standing under the mistletoe.”

“Not like that. You both looked plenty smitten. And once you two started, you couldn’t seem to stop.”

“I—I was too flabbergasted and outraged.”

“All anybody remembers is how you both looked pie-eyed the rest of the night. You couldn’t look at each other without turning red. He is so cute. And hot. I don’t get why you still hate him. Those wet T-shirt photos were flattering. I’m still jealous because he didn’t take a single one of me.”

“I’m going to hang up if you don’t shut up about this.”

“Okay already.”

“Besides, he’s been going out with Carol Frey.”

“I rest my case. Look who’s keeping up with his love life. But for the record, you’ll be glad to know, Mom says that’s off. As of last night.”

Jane’s racing heart leaped into her throat. For a long minute she was unable to swallow, much less answer. Finally, she managed to say, “Look, I really do have to go.”

“Not before I read you his love letter.”

Against her will, Jane listened. Of course, after the first word, when she got to thinking it really might be Matt, she was spellbound. Certain phrases like I would give anything to turn back time before the moment I hurt you, made her go hot all over and catch her breath as she dreamily remembered Matt’s lips clinging to hers.

“So, what do you think?” Mindy asked when she’d finished.

Jane’s heart was racing at an even more frightening pace as she pondered the phrase there has never been anyone in my heart except you. Soon it became difficult to breathe.

She remembered the warmth and eagerness in his eyes after their Christmas kiss. The next day when she’d refused to wave or speak to him on the town square after he’d waved, he’d looked so strange and hurt. Since then he’d been awfully nice. Not that she’d responded.

“I—I think I’d better get dressed now,” Jane said quickly.

“Okay, be that way. But don’t forget, I’m taking you to lunch on the river—for your birthday.”

“I’ve been starving all week so I can eat three crepes and a chocolate dessert. It’s not often that you pick up the check, little sister.”

“Can I help it if I have issues about growing up? Unlike you, I never sprouted big boobs to console me.”

Jane sighed. She hated her figure. “You’re sure Mom won’t forget about picking me up?”

“As sure as one can ever be about a mom who paints her fingernails and toenails with shiny blue paint and consults astrology charts before making the simplest decision.”

“She’ll probably talk about that ol’ letter the whole way into town,” Jane said.

“One way or the other, she’ll get her licks in.”

“How’s she feeling?” Jane asked, her voice softening.

“Stronger every day since she stopped the chemo.”

“I’m glad I came home…even if she reads our fortunes and meddles to make them come true.”

“I know. Mom may be trouble but she’s fun.”

For no reason at all, at the thought of trouble and fun, Jane thought of Matt, and smiled.

Chapter 2

Matthew Harper’s alarm blared at him from the kitchen counter of his ancient blue trailer. God, he had the hangover from hell. He’d slept with the cat from hell on the mattress from hell in a trailer that was hotter than hell. The air-conditioning had bummed out months ago, which shouldn’t have mattered since Jerry Keith should have had his new house built way before May. Hell, J.K. had sworn he’d be finished way before March. But little brothers weren’t so hot at keeping their promises.

Sweat rolled off Matt’s forehead. Hell and damnation, but the heat was fierce! The sun was barely up, and the sheets were plastered to his damp body. So was his crazy cat. Tonight after work he was definitely installing his new window unit.

He’d have time since Carol had broken their date for tonight—broken all their dates for that matter, even their date to the Spring Fling. When he’d said he wasn’t ready for marriage, she’d broken up with him—period.

The phone began to ring, but he fought to ignore it. Nobody in Red Rock but a lunatic or a bothersome woman who wanted an engagement ring would call a man before he had his coffee. He let the phone ring and tried not to listen when his machine picked up.

“Matt, this is Lula Snow. I need a big favor. It’s about Jane. Pick up.”

Jane? Lula? Carol he could handle. But it was way too early for a man with a hangover to wrap his mind around the Snow women.

Beads of perspiration rolled off his forehead. For the first time he realized his baby brother, Jerry Keith, who was also his unreliable building contractor, had been right on when he’d advised him they should finish the house first and build the garage last instead of vice versa.

What about a freak hailstorm? A man had to house his car, not a car really, a Porsche Carrera GT.

“An air-conditioned garage for a toy?” J.K. had taunted.

“For my baby. For my wheels. She’s a real racing machine.”

Hell, maybe if he’d listened to his brother, he wouldn’t be sleeping on this lousy couch in his lousy, ovenlike, hunting trailer, suffering phone calls about Jane from Lula.

Maybe he should have said yes when Carol had demanded marriage. She was perfect for him. Beautiful, complacent, smart, and smart enough to hide it. Other men envied him when he took her out. Jane, on the other hand, wore glasses, hid her figure and flaunted her intelligence. She had a bad habit of holding on to grudges, too.

As he thought about Jane, which he’d been doing a lot lately, a vision of her lovely mouth, not Carol’s, arose in his mind’s eye to taunt him. The mouth, a familiar demon, was huge and red and absolutely luscious.

Next, that male organ he normally took such immense pride in arose underneath the sheets and said, Hi, here I am, darlin’, to the giant mouth. It didn’t take much guessin’ to know what that excitement was all about.

“Damn!”

Never drink too much when you’ve got to go to work the next morning.

He’d been so happy last night when he’d gotten home and seen Jerry Keith along with a full crew at the house actually hammering and nailing, he’d invited the guys to dinner. No sooner had he started grilling thick slabs of beef when Carol had called to ask if he’d forgotten their date. He’d apologized and asked her over to have dinner with the guys. She hadn’t liked that. Somehow she’d launched into the subject of marriage. The rest was history. Or rather they were history.

Which was why he’d sat out on the big flat rocks on his land with the guys until all hours watching his pet armadillo, Dillard, dig for grubs in the moonlight. They’d all gotten to bragging about women, telling dirty jokes and drinking—mostly drinking. Everybody had wanted to hear the old story about how he and Jerry Keith had snuck up on the Snow girls right when they’d been tanning their legs behind their house that fateful afternoon the year he’d asked Jane to the Spring Fling. Too bad for him the girls had started spraying each other with hoses and Jerry Keith had grabbed his camera and started snapping pictures. But if Matt lived to be a hundred, he wasn’t likely to forget how good Jane had looked with that wet cotton plastered against her breasts.