My Valentine Adventure

by Amber Daulton

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Holiday Romance; contemporary romance; holiday romance

Synopsis

Dumped on Valentine's Day. Tricked into a blind date. Will she give love another shot?

Widowed father Parker Townsend is stuck in a rut. After his two little hellions place a "Mom Wanted" ad in the local paper, he's roped into a blind date. If that's not bad enough, why did it have to be on Valentine's Day--the most commercialized holiday of the year?
Claire Lauer answers the want ad to appease her daughter, not to connect with a handsome man drowning in emotional baggage. Hadn't she learned anything from her ex-husband? But then an animal rights protest takes a turn, and she lands in her date's bed.
With the past closing in, how will Parker and Claire seize their second chance at forever?

-- My Valentine Adventure is a sensual, second chance, contemporary romance novella.

Release date: March 17, 2019

Publisher: Daulton Publishing

Print pages: 75

Sample

Chapter One

 

“They did what?” Parker Townsend clutched his cell phone so hard he thought it might break. His throat constricted as his older brother laughed on the other end of the receiver. “I can’t believe they did this. What the hell am I going to do, Niles? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Calm down, Park. It’s not too bad. The kids are just worried about you.”

Parker itched to strangle his brother. “They shouldn’t be. Two little kids shouldn’t worry about adult problems.” But his kids did worry. How could they not? His wife died three years earlier, so he buried himself in work and raising their children alone.

Richie and Tammy, now ages ten and five respectively, had begged for a new mother more times than he could count.

He missed Cynthia so much he could barely breathe sometimes, but he’d come to terms with her death. His brother and a few colleagues from Sharpalder Energy—the electric company where he worked as an electrician—occasionally set him up on blind dates, but lightning had never struck. If the woman didn’t have chocolate-brown eyes or sun-kissed golden-brown hair, as Cynthia had, he barely listened as she rambled on about her children, education, or job.

“Cynthia would want you to try. You promised her.” Niles lowered his voice as he referred to Cynthia’s deathbed plea.

Parker sighed. He’d promised to move on with his life and find a mother for their children, but how could he betray her memory? Replace her as the nurturing woman his kids would look up to? To hell with that. “I’ve tried, but none of the women were good enough.” He rolled his eyes as Niles scoffed. “All right, fine. I never gave any of them a real chance, but I’m not ready. It’s only been three years. Tammy still asks for stories about her mom, and Richie loves telling her everything he can remember. I don’t want to bring a new woman into our lives and dirty my son’s memories.”

“We’ve been through this before. I’m sorry if I sound like a dick, but I’m sick of your excuses. You don’t have to marry anyone, Parker. You just need to get out of the house—other than going to work and PTA meetings—to meet people. To meet women, and not the pushy single moms who bombard you at school functions.” A clicking noise echoed over the phone as though Niles typed on his keyboard. “It’s high time you took some baby steps to get back in the dating game. The kids think so, too, or they wouldn’t have placed a want ad for a mother in the paper. Take this as a hint, Park. It’s time.”

“Tell me again why you stabbed me in the back and published that ad.”

Niles slaved away in the classifieds department at the local newspaper, and somehow Richie found the man’s extension a few weeks earlier and called him.

“C’mon, man. I’m not about to stomp on my nephew’s genius idea. I wish I’d thought of it.” Niles grunted. “I’m sure you can guess the main reason. I’ve said it a dozen times since I called you this morning.”

It’s time. He grumbled a curse. No way would he give his brother the satisfaction of answering aloud. “You’ve talked to this woman, right? She sounds nice?”

The other man snorted. “Yeah, she sounds as nice as a homemade apple pie straight out of the oven. God, you don’t live in the 1950s. Ask me if she sounded sexy or sultry. Act like a hot-blooded man who hasn’t stuck his head between a woman’s legs in three years.”

Parker bit his tongue. It had been four years.

Cynthia had suffered through chemotherapy for the last year of her life. Since she was too weak to make love, he’d often held her and cuddled her close since he couldn’t love her with his body.

He shoved his hand through his hair. “Fine, did this Claire chick sound like she’d be a good lay?” There, that should put a smile on his brother’s face.

“Hell, yeah.” Niles chuckled. “If I was single, I’d hound dog my way up her skirt. This babe has a flirty giggle, and I bet her body is—” His voice suddenly faded out as though he stuck his hand over the receiver. “Ah, um… Sorry about that. Betty just grabbed my crotch and reminded me how much I love her. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I hope you’d have the decency to end up like me. Concentrate on your twin boys and your job, and don’t sniff every skirt in the vicinity.” He licked his dry lips and glanced up at an eight-by-ten family portrait in the living room.

Cynthia held their infant daughter, and Parker, their rambunctious, laughing son.

He plopped down on the sofa. “Betty’s a good woman. I hope you never have to live a day without her.”

“Same here.” Niles coughed as though to clear his throat. “I’m sorry about Claire. I posted Richie’s Mom Wanted ad, but I changed your phone number to mine. You probably would’ve told all the women who called to never call back, or you wouldn’t have answered the phone at all, so I screened the calls and blocked all the crazy chicks. I’ve talked with three candidates over the past two weeks and narrowed the perfect woman down to one—Claire Lauer. She’s blonde, blue-eyed, and a vegetarian.”

“I like brunette women who savor a juicy steak.”

“Betty’s a therapist, remember? She says you need to avoid women who remind you too much of Cynthia. You need to see a new woman for who she is, not who she isn’t.” He clucked his tongue. “Oh, and you’re a vegetarian now.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“Nope, this chick is all about animal rights. Now, don’t blow this, Parker. Claire has no idea I’m Niles, pretending to be you. If you tell her, she might fly off the handle and leave.” He paused, then grumbled a curse. “I’m serious. I know you don’t want to go tonight, but hell, it’s Valentine’s Day. I don’t know how desperate Claire is but don’t ruin her date night.”

“Is that yours or Betty’s request? It sounds too damn sensitive to come from you.”

“Hey, I’m as sensitive as the next jackass.” Niles scoffed, likely insulted, then he caved. “Betty has a point. This is your first Valentine’s Day with a woman in years. Try to have fun.”

Fun? Not happening. He leaned back on the cushions, staring up at the ceiling, and counted backward from twenty as his brother rambled on. “I never said I’d go.”

“Of all the Townsend men, everyone knows I’m the rude, snarky one. Not you. Are you really gonna stand a woman up, all alone at a pricey restaurant, on the most corporate romantic holiday of the year? They don’t make Hallmark cards for women about to jump off a building. Think about your conscience.”

Damn him. He sighed. “Screw it. Six o’clock at La Volare Giardino, right?” He rubbed his temples as Niles hummed. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. Betty and I will be by your house at four to pick up the kids. We did our romantic dinner and romp in the sack last night when you babysat the twins, so we’re available.”

That saved Parker from calling a sitter. “Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah, she has a ten-year-old daughter named Kaylie, and she divorced the kid’s dad about five years ago. He cheated on her or something. Claire didn’t say much about it. Anyway, I told her to look for a man in a red button-down shirt, and she said she’d be there in a red dress. She also told me—this is awesome news, bro—she just hit the big three-five last month. You know a woman’s sexual peak starts in her mid-thirties to forties, and I bet she’s a fine-looking puma.”

Parker couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s enthusiasm for pumas and cougars—attractive women over the age of thirty and forty, respectively, who sought out younger men to bed. Since Parker turned thirty-five last November, he couldn’t very well call Claire a puma.

Niles had married Betty, a woman five years his senior, several years earlier, and he’d told Parker a few wild stories about them messing around in the bedroom, up against a wall, in public places—stories Betty the Cougar would probably kill Niles over.

“Whether or not she knocks you flat on your back and rips down your pants, just relax and have fun. Talk to Claire. She might surprise you and be exactly what you and the kids need.”

Parker frowned. How could his brother act so crude, yet insightful, in the same breath? “Whatever. I’ll see you later. I have to reprimand my busybody kids and get ready.” He clicked the End Call button and left the living room.

Sudden footsteps pounded down the hall and up the stairs.

Wonderful. The kids had been listening.

He followed them into Richie’s messy bedroom. His son fidgeted and his daughter bit her lip as he sat between them on the Power Rangers bedspread. Ah, hell. Tammy climbed onto his lap, washing away his temper. Damn. She was a mini-Cynthia—same hair, eyes, crooked smile, and the uncanny ability to wrap him around her little finger. He couldn’t get over it.

Tears welled in her eyes as she squeezed her mother’s favorite childhood teddy bear to her chest.

“Will you really go, Dad?” Richie traced the design of the Red Ranger on his blanket. “I’m sorry I put up the want ad, but I saved my allowance for over a month and used some of the Christmas money Grandpa gave me to pay for it. She seems really nice.”

The pain in his son’s voice clenched his heart in a vise. Tammy shifted in his arms, so he relaxed his grip. “Who seems nice, Richie?”

“The woman Uncle Niles spoke to. Ms. Claire works at a greenhouse. Aunt Betty took us down there to ‘scope the candidate,’ whatever that means, and she really seemed to like Ms. Claire. So did I.”

“Me too.” Tammy’s high-pitched voice squeaked from her lips.

“Aunt Betty bought an ugly cactus, and Ms. Claire gave me and Tammy lollypops.”

“Mine was cherry.” Tammy smiled up at Parker. “She’s really pretty, Daddy. Blonde like an angel. I think Momma would like her. Aunt Betty said Ms. Claire has a good heart. Did Momma?”

“Yes, your mother did.” Parker tightened his arms around Tammy again and met Richie’s gaze. “If I take this woman to dinner, if I bring her here to meet you two later on, I want you to know she’ll never take the place of your mom. No one could do that. Your mother was special to all of us. If I choose to remarry, your stepmother will be special, too, but in a different way. You understand that, right?” They nodded, and he hoped they did. “All right. I’ll see Claire tonight.”

The children squealed. Richie leapt into his arms, squeezing him hard.

“I love you guys so much.” Parker hugged them close, kissing the crowns of their heads. Their bubble gum-scented hair teased his nose. He held Tammy often, but not Richie. His boy was growing up, wanting independence, so Parker cherished the rare moments when Richie let down his guard. He released them and forced himself to his feet. “Uncle Niles promised to babysit you, so I want you to drive him a little extra crazy tonight. I can forgive you two for going behind my back, but not him. Deal?”

A mischievous grin lengthened his son’s lips as his daughter giggled.

Parker smiled. Now, that was payback. Niles and Betty wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, and not in the way Niles preferred. After he corralled the kids downstairs, he slapped together a few sandwiches for lunch and popped in a kids movie.

As Richie and Tammy laughed, the hole in Parker’s heart ached. Cynthia handled the leukemia with a sense of strength and acceptance that still amazed him. He tried his best to stay strong for her and the kids, but no one really knew what he went through during her illness—the anguish and pain, the shock and loss. No one understood how alone he felt after she passed, how alone he still felt.

He clenched his hands. Damn his pity party. He would do almost anything to feel alive again, but what could he live for, outside of tucking the kids in bed at night and working his job? It only took so many brain cells to sort a bundle of wires. Richie and Tammy would always be his top priority, but he needed something for himself. But what?

Maybe Claire Lauer would know?

Shit. Where did that thought came from? Parker drained the last of his grape juice as the cartoon animals jumped like loons on the TV screen. With his luck, Claire’s flirty giggle would mimic a witch’s cackle or a smoker’s cough, and her personality would make his routine, boring ass job seem interesting.

Parker groaned. If this date sucked worse than the last one Niles forced him on, he was gonna slug the man right in the mouth. His family pinned their hopes on a stranger, but Parker needed a miracle to break out of his slump.

And he didn’t expect it to happen anytime soon.

****

“Don’t ruin this, Mom. Don’t talk about the circus, and please don’t have a cow if he orders meat at dinner.”

Claire Altman Lauer scowled at her precocious ten-year-old daughter, Kaylie. Why had she told the girl about her date? Was she glutton for punishment? “You know I can’t stand Valentine’s Day. I’d rather picket the blasted circus than spend the evening with a stuck-up stranger.” She grabbed a pair of strappy high heels from the closet. A small plastic crate on the floor caught her eye. Construction paper, wooden stakes, markers, and paint bottles filled the container, and she longed to make a few new protest signs.

The Jeffries Circus operated up and down the West Coast and abused its animals despite the United States Department of Agriculture’s Animal Welfare Act. Glenn Sennett, Claire’s friend from college, had organized an activist group several years earlier, and Claire joined Phoenix Animals For Freedom, colloquially called PAFF, to tame her wild tendencies. After an event organizer for the Jeffries Circus contacted the city council of Chandler, Arizona, PAFF petitioned the council to ban the three-day carnival at the old fairgrounds lot. Over twenty thousand citizens nationwide signed the petition in person and through online sites, but the city council still welcomed the non-compliant animal circus with open arms.

PAFF activists then held a multi-day demonstration outside the fairgrounds, informing potential circus-goers about the cruelties the animals faced. So far, the non-violent protesters and picketers just irritated the circus employees, police, and city officials, but tension from both sides had mounted as the opening day of the circus drew near.

If she didn’t have a daughter to protect, she would probably join a more radical group than PAFF and raid science labs to rescue animals used as test subjects. Her ex-husband had called her crazy more than once, but Claire never did anything to jeopardize her family’s safety. She just signed petitions, picketed outside unsavory events, and tried to educate anyone who would listen about animal and environmental issues.

“Mom?” Kaylie shook Claire’s arm and smiled at her from the full-length antique mirror. “That dress looks great. Very funky. You should wear it.”

Claire ran her hands down the slinky, knee-length red dress. She’d stupidly told her blind date she’d wear red that night, so she didn’t have many outfits to choose from. Four reddish-colored dresses lay discarded on the bed. Wow. Look at that. The ruby-red dress now hugging her curves accentuated her butt and shot up her confidence.

At thirty-five years old, Claire had long said goodbye to the firm body she rocked back in college. Still, what the hell happened? She’d jumped from her normal size six to twelve almost overnight. Thank God she’d inherited Dad’s lofty height instead of Mom’s petite frame. She rubbed her stomach, grimacing. Her belly curved and dipped in too many places, but the pleats and beadwork on the sex kitten dress hid her extra weight. Her two-inch heels lengthened her already long legs, and her shoulder-length blonde curls softened her face, giving her a youthful appearance.

Relax. It’s not as if Parker will see you naked.

Though true, she still shaved her legs, bikini area, and beneath her arms, just in case.

“I take full responsibility if the date goes well.” Kaylie grinned as she hugged Claire.

“And if it doesn’t?”

The girl shrugged. “Not my fault. Parker would be a fool not to like you.”

A laugh bubbled up Claire’s throat. She kissed Kaylie’s cheek and ruffled her long blonde hair. “I have the best daughter ever.”

Kaylie had found the “Mom Wanted” ad in the newspaper two weeks earlier, and the advertisement stated the father of two loved to hike, kept a clean home, and wanted a woman with at least one child, a playmate for his kids. “You’re perfect for Parker Townsend,” she’d exclaimed as she thrust the paper in Claire’s face. “You hike sometimes, and our house is pretty clean even with all the pets, and I’m the one child he asked for. Call him.”

Claire finally agreed to call, expecting a sniveling, pathetic man to answer the phone. What kind of man advertised for a wife and mother in the twenty-first century anyway? Instead, an arrogant smartass picked up. Parker set her teeth on edge right away, but he seemed to relax and lose his ego as the conversation wore on. Not sure why she’d called him a second time—other than Kaylie’s prodding—Claire didn’t feel a spark in her blood or heat in her loins when they spoke. Parker described himself as handsome with reddish-brown hair, an athletic build, and big feet. If the “big feet” remark hadn’t surprised her, the fact Parker claimed he didn’t compare to his older and hotter brother, Niles, stunned her into silence.

To make Kaylie happy, Claire agreed to meet Parker at a very public place, and she planned to slip out the restroom window if he rubbed her the wrong way. So far, she blamed his weirdness on anxiety from chatting on the phone or from an odd sense of humor. Would she like his humor better in person? Who knew?

The doorbell rang, and Claire’s gaze darted to the decorative clock on the wall. “I bet that’s your grandma, on time as usual.” Dogs yapped outside as she and Kaylie left the bedroom, and Claire could already hear her prim and proper mother sassing the unruly canines. A few cats slept in the living room, and the elderly ferret she’d adopted the previous year from a kill shelter stretched on the sofa. Claire plastered a smile on her face and opened the door.

Gail Altman bolted inside. “It’s about time, Claire. You know I don’t like dogs bigger than me, and the Doberman almost knocked me down as he jumped on me.” She patted her short, bottle-blonde hair and then smoothed her hands down her legs.

Claire shooed the dogs back before she closed the door. “I’m sorry you find the dogs I rescued from euthanasia annoying, but Kaylie and I love them.” She gripped her hands as her mother huffed. “Anyway, thanks for coming on such short notice. The regular babysitter canceled on me at the last minute, and I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

Gail hugged Kaylie and then faced Claire. “Not a problem, honey. I’m happy to…” Her voice trailed off as she cupped Claire’s bruised cheek. “Concealer should take care of that. I’m proud of you for standing up for your beliefs, but I can’t stand it when my little girl gets hurt.” She glanced across the room as a shorthaired, one-eyed cat jumped off an armchair and curled up beneath the glass coffee table. Gail turned back to Claire. “I’m relieved you’re not going to the protest tonight with your hippie friends, but I’m surprised you chose Valentine’s Day for a date night. There might be hope for you yet.”

Claire bit her tongue. My friends are not hippies, not all of them, anyway. I wish Mom understood. I’m happier now than when Lee and I were married, but she wants me to find a good man and settle down again. Like it’s that easy. She worked as a fulltime gardener and sales associate at Sunny Garden Nursery, and though it paid well, Lee’s alimony and child support payments helped a lot. Claire loved her home—a little blue bungalow in one of the residential areas in Chandler—but her mother disliked the small house Claire had bought after the divorce.

“How’s Daddy?” She changed the subject in order to avoid an argument. “Do you plan to have a romantic evening out with him tomorrow?”

“You know how your father is. He hates this holiday like every other man I know. Women don’t need and shouldn’t expect a dozen roses, jewelry, heart-shaped boxes of fine European chocolate, and a hundred dollar dinner. Just a few words of love and we’re happy.” Her mom shrugged off her coat and hung it on a rack near the door. “Though this bracelet is priceless.”

Claire doubted that as her mother held up her hand. The ruby and diamond bracelet on Gail’s dainty wrist twinkled under the overhead light and almost blinded Claire.

“I’m sorry Lee never bought you jewelry, but not all men are so crass.” Gail folded her arms. “Maybe your new Valentine will show you how a real man treats a woman.”

She growled deep in her throat, but Kaylie didn’t seem to mind or notice her grandmother’s insulting remark toward her father.

Lee had won joint custody of Kaylie in the divorce proceedings, but he rarely called or stopped by to see her. He chose to lavish his love and time on his new wife and son, which hurt Kaylie more than Lee knew or possibly cared.

“I have to finish dressing.” Claire needed space from her mother before she snapped at her. “I promised to meet Parker at six o’clock, and traffic might be brutal even though it’s Sunday.”

“Of course, honey. Go on, now. I’ll raid your fridge and find us dinner.” Gail wrapped her arm around Kaylie’s shoulders. “Knock him dead, Claire. Wear the black velvet jacket I got you for Christmas. It’ll look great with the dress and keep you warm.”

“Good idea.” Her mother knew fashion like the back of her hand, but Claire already planned to wear that particular jacket. She hurried down the hall to the bathroom and dug for her makeup pouch under the sink. Not accustomed to wearing war paint often, she applied just enough concealer, foundation, and blush to hide her yellowish bruise and even out her complexion. Bronze eye shadow and black mascara deepened the color of her blue eyes, and her dark-red lipstick matched her dress. My highfalutin momma will likely approve.

Claire grabbed a beaded necklace from her jewelry box, her jacket from the closet, and kissed her family goodbye. She crossed her fingers as she hurried to her car, a silent prayer on her lips. Please, don’t let this date end in disaster. Mom will launch into her “how to catch a man” lecture if it does. Claire sighed, breathing through her nose. Tonight has to go well. I just can’t take Mom’s form of encouragement anymore.