A Valentine for Kayla (8 page)

Kayla stilled. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Great. I'll draw up a few designs and bring them by your shop.”

“Not that I don't appreciate the help, but are you sure you have the time for this? I mean, with Estelle here and all.” She held her breath.

“I want to do this. Besides, she won't be taking up my time.”

She let out her breath in a soft whoosh. “Okay. Thanks. But don't go crazy. Whatever we do needs to be cheap and easy.”

“Got it. See you soon.”

It seemed Derek wasn't out of her life as she'd presumed. But whatever romantic notions she'd had for him needed to be squelched. She refused to put her heart in the hands of a man who would eventually leave and take it with him.

* * *

Derek strode into the flower shop and spotted Kayla with a customer. No matter. That would give him time to duck into the back before the paparazzi spotted him through the window. He'd thought for sure after a week they'd have given up, but apparently Estelle was getting what she wanted—publicity that didn't involve her movie. He pushed through the swinging doors and stopped.

Jill stood by the back door in the arms of a dark-haired man the size of an NFL linebacker. He cleared his throat and she whipped her head toward him.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Hiding. What are
you
doing?”

She stepped out of the man's arms. “This is Charlie. He delivers the flowers. Charlie, Derek is our resident celebrity.”

Charlie held out a beefy hand. “The whole town's been talking about you.”

Derek suppressed a groan. “Maybe going back to LA isn't such a bad idea after all.”

“Don't you dare leave.” Jill scowled. “My business partner would be impossible if you disappeared from her life.”

He stood a little taller. Kayla would miss him? And here he'd thought he'd ruined everything.

Jill glanced toward the closed door leading to the front of the store. “About what you saw when you walked in—do you think you could keep that between the three of us? Kayla doesn't know about Charlie and me yet, and I don't think now is a good time to tell her.”

“I don't know. She's already unhappy with me.”

Jill frowned. “Good point. I like you, Derek, and you're good for my friend. Don't lie—just don't offer the information. Deal?”

“I suppose. But you won't be able to keep this from her for long. What if she'd been the one who walked in and saw the two of you?”

Charlie wrapped his hand around Jill's. “He's right. There's really no point in keeping us a secret any longer now that—”

“Okay.” Jill whirled around, disengaged her hand from his and pushed him toward the back door. “Those flowers need to be delivered. You better get a move on.”

“Okey-dokey.” He nodded to Derek, then slipped out the back door.

Derek wondered what the man had been about to say, but Kayla pushed through the door. She looked ravishing. Her hair was piled atop her head with a few wisps dangling beside her smooth cheeks. Her lips stretched into a polite smile.

“I see you've made yourself at home.”

“Sorry about that. I didn't want the paparazzi to see me and cause a ruckus, so I thought I'd dart back here.”

Jill sidled up to him. “It's no big deal, Kayla. How about I take over in front for a bit, while the two of you talk float designs?” She rushed toward the door and looked over her shoulder.

He mouthed a thank-you.

Jill grinned and left.

He pulled out three sheets of folded paper he'd stuffed into his back jeans pocket and handed them to Kayla. “They're rough, but I think you'll get the idea.” He rocked back on his heels as she unfolded and studied the designs he'd spent hours on.

“They're amazing, but they're not simple.” She shook her head. “I don't think we could pull any of these off. Even if we had the man-hours, we don't have the money.”

“Then let the float be my treat.”

“No way.”

“Why? You have something against a philanthropic former singer?”

“Of course not. Wait—former singer? What are you talking about?”

“I left the business.”

“Does
the business
know that? Because from what I've seen on TV, you're as hot as ever.”

She watched gossip shows? He'd pictured her listening to music and reading books in her off time, not planted in front of the television screen. “I'd like to explain all of that, if you'd give me a chance.”

“It doesn't matter. And since there aren't any other philanthropists tossing money my way, I don't see that we have much choice but to accept your offer.”

“Don't sound so excited.” He tried to curb the sarcasm in his tone but failed miserably.

“Hey, I didn't ask for your help with the float.”

“Maybe not, but you sure didn't turn me down, either.”

“Okay, fine, but I didn't know who you were then. I thought you were an ordinary guy. Not a famous singer.”

“You have something against famous people?”

“No. Only you!” She crossed her arms and spun away from him.

He felt sucker punched. Her words hit their mark, but he refused to let her win. He cared about Kayla and the people in this town. He would not allow her to cut him out just because he had a life before he came here.

He stepped across the room until he was close enough to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Why me?”

“Because you humiliated me,” she said softly, and turned to face him.

The hurt in her eyes made his gut tighten. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” He didn't understand what he'd done other than not tell her he was DJ Parker. Could that be why she was so upset? Whatever it was, it didn't matter right now. He just wanted back in Kayla's life—wanted their friendship back, wanted to continue getting to know her. “Please forgive me and let me help you.” He longed to caress her soft cheeks and kiss her until she forgot about the pain he'd caused her, but he forced his hands to his sides.

She looked into his eyes and something changed. The hurt was gone, but something new was in its place. “Okay. I would appreciate your help.”

“Yes.” He pumped a fist. “You won't regret this.” He spread the designs out on the worktable and explained his vision for each one.

They tossed around the pros and cons of the designs and ended up deciding on his simplest idea. He'd pull a flatbed trailer decked out in a flower garden with a stone bench under an arch.

Kayla made a copy of the design and handed him the original. “I'll take care of the flowers if you can deal with the rest. I'll get you the names and numbers of everyone I think would be willing to help.”

“Thanks. About dinner?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don't think that'd be a good idea with your girlfriend in town.”

“I told you Estelle is
not
my girlfriend.”

“That's not what
she
says.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Who are you going to believe? A woman you don't know or a man you do know?”

Kayla raised a brow as if to question whether she knew him. She walked toward the door that divided the workroom from the storefront. “No worries, Derek. You don't owe me an explanation. We had a nice time together, and now I'd like to keep things between us professional.”

He rushed forward. “But I really like you, Kayla. I want to see where this leads between us.”

She shook her head. “I don't think so. We'll work together on this project, but that's it.”

There was no use arguing now. But if it was the last thing he did, he'd find a way to get her to change her mind about him.

T
he Flowers and More delivery van drove up Derek's driveway and stopped about fifty feet from where he worked on the float. He slid the hammer into his tool belt and waved.

Charlie got out and sauntered in his direction. “The women asked me to stop in and see how things are going.”

The screen door slammed. Derek looked over his shoulder and winced. Estelle stood there with crossed arms.

Charlie's startled eyes slammed into his. “Why is she still here?” He kept his voice low. “I heard she'd left town a week ago.”

“She was lying low for a few days, and it's turned into a week. Honestly, I don't know how to get rid of her. But she's great company for my mom, especially since she's only working part-time.”

“I get that about your mom and all, but I thought you had a thing for Kayla. You better not be messing with her.” He planted his feet in a wide stance and folded his arms across his chest.

Derek raised his hands palms out. “There is nothing going on between Estelle and me. Not that it matters. Kayla's done a one eighty on me and is keeping her distance. Were it not for the float…”

“I wouldn't be so sure about that. She downloaded most of your songs to her MP3 player. She walks around the shop humming them all the time.”

Derek grinned. “I didn't know that.” Maybe he had a chance with her after all.

“A-hem.”

He glanced back toward the house again. “What do you need, Estelle?”

“Your mother asked me to send you for groceries.” She waved a piece of paper. “Here's her list.”

Charlie chuckled. “I don't envy you, man.”

Derek shook his head, walked up the steps of the porch and took the list from Estelle. “When I finish up here, I'll head into town.”

Estelle stuck her nose in the air, spun around, then went back inside without even acknowledging Charlie.

Derek headed back to the driveway. “Sorry about that. She's still angry that I refuse to return to LA with her and takes every chance she gets to let me know her feelings.” Like what she thought mattered to him. She was the last person he would return to his old life for. She'd burned him, and he wasn't going down that road again.

Derek walked over to the trailer he'd begun to build the float on. “What do you think so far?”

“I think you better work faster. The parade is in five weeks.”

“Don't worry—it will be finished in plenty of time.” He undid his tool belt and brushed his hands on his jeans. “Guess I'd better go shopping or risk starving tonight.”

Charlie clapped him on the shoulder as if he were one of the guys in the football locker room. “What should I tell Jill and Kayla?”

He rubbed the spot Charlie had slapped. “Whatever you say, don't tell them about Estelle.”

“I meant about the float.”

“Right. Tell them it's coming along.”

“Will do. Want help later? I should be off early and could be here by four.”

“Sure.”

Charlie waved and slid behind the wheel of the delivery van. He tooted the horn before backing up and heading to the main road.

Derek rounded the house and stopped short when he spotted Estelle sitting in the shade of an old oak tree. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and his mom's snow-white cat rested in her lap. He hadn't seen the cat around much lately and wondered where it'd been.

Estelle's voice traveled through the quiet yard. “What a sweet kitty you are.” She sighed as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders and stroked the cat's back. “My life is such a mess. I don't know what I'm going to do. You are so lucky you're a cat and not a person. All you need to worry about is your next meal.”

He frowned. What was Estelle talking about? He kicked at a pebble to alert her of his presence and fully rounded the corner.

She brushed the cat from her lap and jumped to standing. “I thought you went shopping.” Her brow puckered and a hint of pink tinged her cheeks.

“I need my wallet.” He brushed by her and didn't look back. Unease at what he'd overheard propelled him to the guest cottage. What was
really
going on with Estelle?

* * *

Later that afternoon, Derek spotted Charlie pulling into the driveway, but this time another vehicle followed. Kayla stepped out of a black hatchback. A cool look covered her face.

“How's it going?” Charlie asked.

Derek shot him a questioning look, then grinned at Kayla. “Great. How are you, Kayla?”

“Fine.” She brushed past him and hustled toward the float.

So this was how it was going to be? Disappointment washed through him. He missed their camaraderie and her playfulness. He'd hoped they'd gotten past the wall she'd erected since Estelle's arrival, but he'd been mistaken. He squared his shoulders.

Charlie sidled up to him and said in a low voice, “I'm really sorry, man, but I let it slip that Estelle is staying here. I feel awful. It was a complete accident.”

“Don't worry about it. You probably did me a favor in the long run. Now I don't need to worry about Kayla finding out.” The less-than-friendly attitude from Kayla made sense now. No matter—he'd win her over one way or another. Surely she'd understand Estelle's situation. He bumped shoulders with Kayla. “What do you think?”

“It looks like a trailer with a couple of wood frames on top of it,” she said drily.

“That's pretty much what I have so far. I still need to finish the arbor. But the bridge is complete. I still need to get a bench for whoever ends up riding on the float.”

Her head whipped toward him. “Wait. Who's going to ride on the float? We didn't discuss that.”

He shrugged. “It's an option, should someone
want
to ride. Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, okay. Will it be ready in time?”

He laid a hand across his heart. “You doubt me?”

“Sorry, but I need to make sure.” A hint of a smile played at her lips.

“You can trust me, Kayla.”

Her expression turned stony. “Mmm-hmm.”