Love in February: Week One

  Love in February

  Week One

  Savina Joyce

  To everyone who needs a little more love

  The course of true love never did run smooth.

  William Shakespeare

  Contents

  Introduction

  February First

  February Second

  February Third

  February Fourth

  February Fifth

  February Sixth

  February Seventh

  From the Author

  About the Author

  Also by Savina Joyce

  Introduction

  Welcome to my love experiment. Last year, I decided to challenge myself to write a short story every day. National Novel Writing Month in November pushed me to go even further. I wasn’t sure what to do with them, then it hit me. Falling in love every day. That’s the dream, isn’t it?

  I couldn’t very well make the same couple fall in love every day. What I could do is have a new couple every day and see where it goes. Some of these stories are meet cutes. Some are love stories already in progress. I hope you have as much fun reading them as I did writing them.

  * * *

  Enjoy,

  SJ

  February First

  Jennifer & Caleb

  Jennifer felt like she'd been run over by a truck. In the sand. She carefully attempted to open her eyes.

  It occurred to Jennifer that she might have overdone it the night before. It had been her first night out since her pre-Christmas breakup. No one could really blame her for overindulging. At least she hadn't driven home. When he broke her heart, her ex left with her car, so it was an option, anyway.

  The first thing that Jennifer had to do was deal with this dehydration. Without opening her eyes, she fumbled around on the bedside table. She heard a few things scatter across to the floor. Undeterred, she continued her hunt until her hands closed over her sunglasses. She sighed with relief as she snaked her arm under the blankets and placed the glasses on her face. Once they were in place, she pulled the blanket down and carefully opened her eyes again. The room was still brighter than she would have liked. But at least it was tolerable. Now to make it to the kitchen.

  She slid up carefully and was relieved to see that the room had stopped spinning. She didn't remember much about coming home last night. She did remember stumbling to bed. She made her way to the kitchen and grabbed the glass. She didn't want to risk cold water, so she took some room temperature water from the tap. Just the sensation of the water hitting her dry mouth was enough to make her moan with pleasure. If only she had a man that had the same effect on her.

  Jennifer sat in the quiet and slowly returned to herself. She realized that it was a new year. She refused to let another year pass feeling sorry for herself. This year she was going to do better. She was going to be better. She was going to be the person of her own dreams. It was what she deserved.

  Even though the first day of the year was midweek, Jennifer didn't have to go to work. What a relief. She didn't think she could stand to be in office today. Not just because of her blinding headache, but also because she was tired. Partying would do that.

  All the affirmations and plans were great. Food was better. And it was definitely time for breakfast or brunch. Since this was going to be a new year and a new Jennifer, she decided against ordering delivery or grabbing fast food. She was going to actually leave the house and go to an honest-to-goodness grocery store for something she could cook. She was lazy, but only because she had such a busy life. When she had the time to cook, she was a pretty good one. Today seemed like as good a time as any.

  Jennifer showered, piled her hair up in a messy bun, put her sunglasses securely back in place, and headed for the store. She did her best not to interact with anyone she saw along the way, because she just wanted to get in and get out. Her plan was working until she reached the produce department. She got the idea in her head that sliced cantaloupes would be great with the feast she was going to prepare. She had eggs, cinnamon raisin bread, sausages, bacon and strawberries. She rounded her selection off with grits.

  She was making her way to the cantaloupe. Jennifer knew that was just what she needed to complete her meal. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who had the idea. As she reached for the cantaloupe, a man's hand closed over hers. She looked up in surprise.

  “Excuse me. I don't think I know you.” Any further argument she had died on her lips when she looked into the eyes of possibly the most attractive man she'd ever seen.

  He was well over six feet tall. She felt tiny next to him. He had green eyes and black hair. His face was defined enough that she knew the rest of his body would be, too. His eyes narrowed. She was grateful for her sunglasses because that meant he couldn't see how googly eyed she had gone.

  “You definitely don't know me, or you wouldn’t be trying to steal my cantaloupe,” he replied.

  “Steal your cantaloupe? As you can see, I had it first. Why is your hand still on mine?”

  He pulled his hand away. “I was reaching for it when you rushed over here and jumped in front of me.”

  “I am far too hung over to be jumping anywhere, and I saw it first.”

  “And how do you presume to prove that?”

  “They do say possession is nine-tenths of the law,” Jennifer said, plucking the cantaloupe from the produce bin and walking off.

  “Now wait just a minute. It's not that easy. That was my breakfast.”

  “And now it's mine,” Jennifer called over her shoulder.

  “You know you can't get away with doing whatever you want just because you're beautiful.”

  Jennifer stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned to face the mystery man.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said just because you're beautiful doesn't mean you can treat people any way you want. Stealing is a criminal offense.”

  “I’m not stealing anything. I’m going to pay for it. Flattering a hung over mess isn't going to get you anywhere.”

  “I can't say whether or not you’re hung over, but I can say I've never seen anyone less of a mess than you.”

  “Well thank you,” Jennifer said, failing to stifle a giggle.

  “Thankful enough to give up the cantaloupe?”

  “Nope. I'm sure there is a lovely honeydew melon back there for you.”

  “Now I know you're being cruel. No one likes honeydew melons, not even honeydew melons.”

  “You're right about that.”

  “Maybe this is a little forward, but since you were going to have that cantaloupe for breakfast, and I was going to have that cantaloupe for breakfast, what do you say we have breakfast together?”

  Jennifer opened her mouth, but no words came out. She wasn't sure what to say to that. It wasn't every day that a gorgeous guy in the grocery store asked her on a date. But there was no way she would bring this stranger back to her house.

  “Okay, I know that sounds crazy,” the man said hurriedly. “What I'm thinking is if it's all right with you, you can come to my place. I live two blocks away. You can drop a pin on your phone to let your friends know where you are, and I will cook you breakfast. You seem to have enough for me to make food for the both of us. I'll even pay for all the groceries. What do you say? I’m Caleb, by the way.”

  “Caleb, that sounds like a lovely offer, but I don't want you to cook for me. We’ve only just met.”

  “You misunderstand me. I actually like to cook but I don't get to do it often because it's really just me. Lately, I’ve been a cereal-at-the-counter kind of guy.”

  “Well, I don't know.”

  “If you feel weird about it, you can always leave. I promise I�
��m not a serial killer.”

  “That's exactly what serial killers say.”

  “And how would you know that unless you were in fact the serial killer here?” Caleb asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “You got me there,” Jennifer said with a laugh. “Okay, Caleb. I'm Jennifer and I will let you talk me into this is one time, with one caveat.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “You have to carry the groceries,” Jennifer said, handing him the basket. Caleb laughed and put his hand on the small of her waist as he led her to the checkout.

  February Second

  Cheyanne & Stefan

  Cheyanne stared across the office. Glared was more like it. The object of her dislike was Stefan. Always Stefan. They had worked together at this construction company for three years. They both started at the same time. Somehow, Stefan always landed the bigger jobs. Inevitably, he would come to Cheyanne for help with the estimation process.

  She was so sick of him winning the bigger jobs. It wasn’t even a matter of winning. The jobs were just assigned to them by the Senior Estimator. Not that Stefan wasn’t capable of doing the work, he just didn’t seem to be able to get the work done without her.

  He had the nerve to be whistling through the office and chatting people up while she was hard at work finishing her estimates so she would even have the time to help him with his. She knew that she could let him handle it on his own, but just because she couldn’t stand him didn’t mean she was any less of a team player. Cheyanne couldn’t help but assist a coworker in need.

  An hour later, Stefan sidled over to her office.

  “Knock, knock,” he said as he leaned against the door.

  “You could actually knock, you know.”

  “I could, but who knocks on an open door.”

  “Feel free to shut it on your way out.”

  Stefan laughed, flashing his dazzlingly white teeth. Cheyanne was sure they dazzled someone, but they would not dazzle her.

  When she first started working with him, she might have found him attractive. He was tall, ruggedly fit, and handsome as hell. He looked like he baled hay on the weekends. Probably shirtless. But just because he was attractive didn’t mean that Cheyanne had to like him. And she didn’t.

  “What can I do for you, Stefan? I’m working.”

  Stefan eased into the chair across from her desk.

  “Well, I just got the stadium job and I might need your help.”

  “If you can’t handle the job, you could always ask to have it reassigned.”

  “I can handle it, but it's always nice to have help.”

  “That’s what you always say.”

  “And yet, that didn’t sound like a no.”

  Cheyanne sighed. He was right. Again. She hated when that happened.

  “Look, I can see that you’re not thrilled about the idea. I’ll tell you what. Since you’re going to help me, I’ll buy you dinner. You like that Chinese place, right? How do you feel about takeout tonight?

  “You want me to stay late tonight?”

  “I just got the project, and the day is almost over. I only need help setting up the divisions, then I’ll handle the rest.”

  Cheyanne was not about to admit that she didn’t have any plans. Aside from work, she didn’t have much of a social life. That was none of Stefan’s business though.

  “I do have to eat. But this is the last time,”

  “I guess I better make it count then.”

  Cheyanne wasn’t sure what he meant, but she was excited about the Chinese food. Mei Sing was her favorite restaurant near work, but she tried to only eat there on special occasions. She went through a phase during her first year when she ate there almost every day. She didn’t think her wallet would ever recover.

  She decided to spend the time waiting for her food, finishing up the tasks she could and scheduling the rest. Helping others was no reason to fall behind on her work.

  Everyone else in the office wrapped up their work for the night and said goodbye on their way out. No one questioned why Cheyanne was still at her desk; she was usually the last one to leave.

  Cheyanne’s phone rang, and she nearly jumped onto her desk. She looked at the caller ID and saw that the call was coming from inside the office. This was how horror movies started. Reluctantly, she picked up the phone.

  “Cheyanne here. How can I help you?”

  “No need to be so formal. It’s Stefan. Can you come down to the conference room? I have all the food set up in here.”

  “Just how much food did you order?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to come down here and find out,” Stefan said before ending the call.

  Cheyanne rolled her eyes and headed for the conference room. She was hungry. She had taken an early lunch today so the more food the better.

  When she arrived at the conference room, she was surprised to see that Stefan had the food all laid out for both of them. He had even produced a couple of beers from who knows where.

  “You really did order everything on the menu.”

  “Not really. I ordered a pu pu platter and some rice. I figured we should celebrate the last time you help me with a job,” he said with a laugh.

  “If you need help again, I’m not going to leave you in a lurch.”

  “I know, I’m just teasing you.”

  Cheyanne frowned but didn’t reply. Since when did Stefan tease her? He was acting very familiar. It was definitely out of character for him to act like this. She wondered what his angle was. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long for the answer.

  “I have to admit, I had ulterior motives for inviting you here.”

  “Let me guess, you want me to do the entire job while you take all the credit?” Cheyanne asked while rolling her eyes.

  “No. Nothing like that. If that’s really what you think of me, the rest of this conversation is going to be awkward.”

  Cheyanne stopped eating. This sounded serious. She didn’t say anything. Stefan clearly had something to get off of his chest.

  “While we’ve been working here, I’ve asked you for help several times. But, not for the reason that you think. While I appreciated your help, I didn’t actually need it. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

  Cheyanne was glad she had stopped eating or she would have choked. She definitely hadn’t seen this coming. If she had misjudged him this badly, what else had she overlooked? She took a sip from her beer, but still remained silent.

  “I can see that this is news to you. I was trying to work out a way to ask you on a date, but when that didn’t work, I decided to make one,” Stefan said, gesturing to the food on the table.

  Cheyanne burst out laughing. “You’re definitely smarter than I gave you credit for.”

  “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”

  “You should. All I do is work. Yet, somehow you had time to do your job and devise this scheme. It’s impressive.”

  “Impressive enough to go out on a real date with me?”

  “After you’ve gone to all this trouble, how could I say no?”

  February Third

  Ines & Dean

  Ines heard the tingling of the bell above the diner door. It was a slow afternoon, and she was glad to have a customer. The gentleman looked familiar to her and she couldn't quite tell why. He came in and sat at the table and pulled out a legal pad and a small spiral-bound notebook and began writing furiously.

  “Aren’t you supposed have a laptop?”

  “Not every writer is the same,” he said offhandedly.

  “You're right. Sorry about that. I shouldn’t make assumptions. What can I get for you?”

  “A menu would be nice.”

  If he had bothered looking up, he would have seen that she held a menu in her hand. Too kind to say anything, and wanting to keep her cool, she just cleared her throat delicately. The man looked up and met her eyes. His mouth dropped open.

  “Ines, is that you?”
<
br />   “That's what the name tag says.”

  “No. It's me, Dean.”

  “That's impossible. The Dean I knew would never walk around with an actual haircut. He was a rebel.”

  “Sadly, it seems I grew up.”

  “What a terrible thing to do.” Dean gave her his signature crooked smile as he reached for the menu. “You mind if I look this over?”

  “I'm sure they're serving the same things they were serving back when we were kids, but feel free to take a look. I'll be back in a minute.”

  Ines just tried to ignore the thumping of her heart. She'd known Dean since she was a kid, but they had lost track after high school. He'd moved away, trying to go into journalism. She thought it was a dying industry even then, but he insisted that with a fresh approach, anything was possible. He had just been a scrawny teen then, but he'd filled out quite nicely. Even though he was sitting down, she could tell he'd gotten taller. He had definitely gotten more broad-shouldered and had muscles now. She wasn't sure how writing could make someone look so inherently strong, but whatever he was doing worked for him. She walked back behind the counter where her friend Chloe was waiting.

  “Who's the hottie?”

  “You would take that back if you knew who it was,” Ines said with a laugh.

  “You’re not going to tell me? Just like you to keep them all to yourself.”

  “It's Dean.”

  “Not Dean the string bean?”

  “Clearly no string bean anymore.”

  “Leaving town sure did fill him out, and then some.”

  “Keep it down or he’ll hear you..”

  “Like it would matter. I'm sure he'll be the same as before. He only has eyes for you. Some girls have all the luck.”