A Valentine's Wish Read Online Free Page A

be—what do you say?—Saveable.”
    “Salvageable?”
    “ Si. ” Monny picked up the spoon from the floor and tossed it into the deep stainless-steel sink. The corners of his lips crinkled into a smile. “One disaster averted. Let’s see if we can make this fudge—”
    “The cake!” Lori gestured wildly to the oven behind Monny, where smoke started to seep from the edges.
    Monny grabbed the oven mitt again and wrenched open the door. Smoke billowed. He hefted the pan from inside, and it landed on the counter with a clatter. The chocolate batter had bubbled over onto the oven rack and burned. He stared listlessly at the hardened, crusty shell of what was supposed to be one of the Chocolate Gator’s best-selling products.
    Lori waved one hand at the dissipating smoke and coughed. “Maybe we can still sell it and call it Cajun?”
     
    Andy stared at the pen in his hand, willing it to obey. “Write. Something, anything—just write!” But no words formed on the card lying on his desk. Big surprise. Penning thoughts to your good friend turned best friend turned love interest wasn’t exactly easy.
    He dropped the pen with a groan and flopped back in his office chair. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Last night, sitting in his recliner and flipping channels on the TV, the concept of sending secret gifts seemed ingenious. Surely it’d break the ice between him and Lori and warm her up to the idea of being more than friends. Hey, it worked for the guy in the Lifetime movie, didn’t it? But now it just seemed ridiculous. Lori said herself a year ago that she was through with the dating game after her ex-fiancé hurt her so badly.
    The church staff was being unfair. Like finding true love was so easy. Like discovering the one person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with was this no-big-deal, everyday occurrence. Maybe he should forget the idea of finding a woman and remove himself from the game as Lori had done. Being a bachelor wasn’t that bad—although he could stand a home-cooked meal or two. And someone to remind him not to leave wet towels on the bedroom carpet so his room wouldn’t smell so moldy the next day. And it wouldn’t be awful to have someone to fight with over leaving the toothpaste cap off or whose turn it was to wash dishes or how much spice to put in the jambalaya.
    But was it worth this kind of headache?
    He grabbed a Hershey’s Kiss from the bowl on his counter—the bowl he kept for Lori when she was hanging out at the church—and let his eyes drift back to the greeting card in front of him. It was catchy and corny, just Lori’s thing. Two grinning cartoon characters with big moony eyes, one shooting pulsing heart beams toward the other with a bow and arrow. The text read Cupid Ain’t Got Nothing on Me. But what could he write underneath? And wouldn’t she recognize his handwriting?
    The guy in the movie hadn’t had these kinds of problems.
    Andy raked one hand through his hair. At least the bouquet of daisies and stargazer lilies would be a winner. Lori told him a year ago that lilies were her favorite flower because she figured they were God’s favorite, too. When he questioned her reasoning, she simply said a flower that smelled that strongly was obviously trying to waft its aroma toward Heaven.
    He sniffed and fought a sneeze. She wasn’t kidding. He grabbed for a tissue seconds before the allergy attack began. Leave it to Lori to prefer the least subtle flower in all of nature. The sooner he figured out this card thing and delivered the gift, the sooner he could breathe again. Although Lori’s potential rejection would probably suck the life from their friendship. He wondered if he should even risk this.
    The phone jangled on his desk, and he eagerly snatched it up. Any distraction was better than hovering over this greeting card, feeling like a poetic failure. “Youth pastor’s office, this is Andy.”
    “Andy, my favorite nephew.” His aunt’s voice rang