Four Non-Traditional Valentine’s Day Gifts for Husbands

By Meghan Carver

After twenty-six years of marriage, it can be a little difficult to figure out something interesting and appropriate to give my husband for Valentine’s Day. I know we have many authors on this blog who have been married many more years than I have, so you can either chuckle at my youth, commiserate with my plight, or share your advice in the comments. 😊 

I figure a lot of us who read Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense have this same predicament.

With Valentine’s Day later this week, I thought I would share with you all some gift ideas for the man in your life.

The problem is, to be perfectly honest, that for many years we haven’t even given gifts, not in the traditional sense.

So, I went to Google, the source of all answers. {I don’t recommend this….}

That didn’t help.

I’ve been decluttering like crazy, so I know that my husband does NOT need –

•          another power tool
•          a kitchen appliance
•          a red-and-white-striped dish for his popcorn
•          a tee-shirt that labels him as “Hot Stuff”
•          a piece of tree bark with our initials cut into it to sit as a keepsake on our side table in the living room.

I was back at the beginning.

I love words {obviously 😊}, so I went to the dictionary. Here are a few intangible {and free!} items we could give our husbands on Valentine’s Day…and every other day of the year.

•          Love: an intense feeling of deep affection; a great interest and pleasure in something.
•          Respect: a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements; due regard for the feelings, wishes, rights, or traditions of others.
•          Encouragement: the action of giving someone support, confidence, or hope.
•          Fun: enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

~~~~~

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, do you need a new romance to read…with a little bit of danger thrown in?

Amish Country Amnesia is still available online.

His past is a mystery to everyone…except for the men trying to kill him

When a snowmobile accident leaves a man injured and with no memory, Amish widow Sarah Burkholder and her young daughter rescue him. Even as Sarah’s feelings for him grow, they discover unknown assailants are after him—and Sarah and her little girl for helping him. But if he can remember who he is, he might just save all their lives.

You can order HERE.

And…Sarah’s friend Katie has her own story coming this July, Amish Covert Operation.

She witnessed a crime. Can an agent in disguise keep her safe?

After Amish widow Katie Schwartz’s search for her reclusive brother results in a shooting and her finding a cryptic message, she must rely on federal agent Adam Troyer to shield her. But, undercover as a Plain man, can Adam save her brother’s life and protect Katie? Trusting the handsome Englisch agent is already dangerous…but falling for him could risk everything Katie holds dear.

I can’t reveal the final cover yet, but if you’d like to be the first to know, I’d be honored if you sign up for my author newsletter. I give away books and prizes with every issue!

Sign up for my author newsletter HERE.

You can pre-order Amish Covert Operation HERE.

Thank you for reading! 😊

Love at the Candy Heart Cafe - Chapter Ten by Cate Nolan

Just as soon as we are married.

Married? 

Married!

Candy’s thoughts stuck on that one word like a fly on caramel. 

 

She swallowed hard trying to find her voice. No. Two little letters. One syllable. She could do it. She just had to say NO. 

Turning to Bruce, intent on setting him straight, she opened her mouth to say the word, but the tinkle of candy chimes distracted her. She swung toward the door just in time to see it closing behind Chad.

 

"No!"
Suddenly the cloyingly sweet scent of the store overwhelmed her. The swirling mix of flavors - fruit and nuts, peppermint and chocolate - assaulted her senses. If she didn't get some fresh air, she might do something stupid... like agree to Bruce's plan to save Granny's business.
She dashed outside, but the sight of Chad vaulting the fence to the beach shattered her heart.
How was it possible she felt even worse now than the day they'd broken up?

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 

Unable to bear the thought of facing Taffy and Bruce, Candy made her way around the back of the cafe and slipped into the right corner booth. Feeling utterly defeated, she sank back against the cracked upholstery. Just one more thing that needed fixing if this place was going to survive.

Too late she realized her mistake. This was their booth.

She buried her face in her hands, remembering another afternoon. It had been raining. She and Chad had been walking on the beach, but they'd taken refuge here, sipping hot chocolate and eating Valentine's cookies. She remembered how he'd slid off the seat and hidden under the table. He'd pulled her down to see where he'd carved their initials into the wood on the underside of the table. 

He'd kissed her then - for the very first time - and pledged to love her forever.

On an impulse, she reached under the table and ran her fingers lightly over the wood. She could feel  the outline of the C&C. Their initials captured in a heart had lasted even though they hadn't.

Tears began to flow freely now. What a colossal mess she’d made.

She sat there, rubbing her fingers back and forth over the letters, so lost in her memories that it was a few minutes before she realized she wasn't alone.

“Why did you lie? Why did you tell my brother you were marrying Candy?”

"I didn’t lie. I’ve been waiting years to get Candy to notice me. Now she has no choice."

Taffy’s gasp sounded like someone had a licorice rope around her neck. "But what about us?"

Bruce’s laugh was so dismissive and cruel, that Candy’s heart hurt for Taffy. “You’ve served your purpose. I’ll see to it that the bank gives you that loan. Later. Now I’ve got to find my bride.”

His footsteps headed her way and Candy instinctively huddled deeper under the table.

"Bruce?"

Taffy's voice was sickeningly sweet.

"What?"

"I don't want your loan. Here, take this instead."

Curious, Candy peered over the seat just in time to see Taffy hurl the banana cream pie in Bruce's face.

"Oh! You little—" Sputtering, he wiped the cream from his eyes.

Candy jumped up. "Need a napkin?"

Horror peered through the ring of cream around his eyes. Bruce grabbed the napkins and beat a hasty retreat. Candy quickly locked the door behind him before turning back to Taffy.

 

"You... You were eavesdropping!" Taffy’s cheeks were as red as the cinnamon hearts she’d always loved, but Candy wasn’t sure if they were flushed with anger or embarrassment.

She rolled her eyes in her best teen-girl imitation. "This IS my café and I have every right to be here. I didn’t invite you or your smarmy partner-in crime."

"Smarmy?" Taffy puffed up in indignation, but quickly deflated. "He is smarmy, isn’t he?" She sniffled. "I guess I should be grateful to discover than now, before I wasted any more years on him."

For the first time since she’d been back, Candy saw a hint of her former best friend. This was the Taffy she’d loved.  

"I’m not going to marry him, you know. Grandmother would be rolling in her grave to think of a man who can’t appreciate rhubarb pie taking over this place."

Taffy smiled. "I missed you, Candy."

"I missed my best friend," Candy replied.

Taffy hung her head. "I wasn’t much of a friend, letting my head be turned by that gummy worm. I'm sorry."

Candy burst out laughing but quickly sobered. It felt so good to laugh with Taffy. It would be lovely to have her friend back. But Taffy was Chad's sister, and Candy didn’t think she could bear the reminder of all she’d lost.

It occurred to her that Chad had been as much a victim as she had. All this time, she’d been feeling sorry for herself, blaming him, but he’d done nothing wrong.

Except leave.

But she’d pretty much sent him away without even so much as a Keep in Touch.

Taffy walked toward her, wiping the last of the banana crème from her fingers. Candy started to laugh all over again remembering Bruce with that haughty face dripping banana crème filling.

Taffy started to join her but stopped cold. “What are you still doing here? You need to go after my brother before he does something foolish.”

"No, it's too late."

Taffy was silent a long minute. Then she walked over to the counter and picked up a box. She set it in front of Candy. "Honey Sweet dropped these off before. She seemed to think you might need them."

Candy glanced down at the box of cookies - exact duplicates of the ones she'd shared with Chad so long ago.

"She left a note."

Candy took the paper and, with trembling hands, opened it.

"Your grandmother always believed

 you and Chad belonged together. 

Now it's your turn to believe. 

True love is worth fighting for."

Candy hesitated. Did she have the nerve? Could she really go after Chad and try to claim her heart’s desire?

Love at the Candy Heart Cafe - Chapter Nine by Deb Kastner

Seeing the look of betrayal cross Chad’s expression, Candy’s spirit plunged like the heart of a kid who’d dropped his ice cream cone on a hot summer sidewalk.

Why had she not confronted Chad when Taffy had told her about Ginger, rather than just letting Chad walk away? But Taffy had been her best friend, and Candy had made the mistake of believing what she’d said about Chad and Ginger was true. Though she still didn’t understand why, she’d been completely duped. Instead of Taffy being as sweet as peach cobbler a la mode, she had turned out to be as sour as gummy worms.

Candy’s gaze met Chad’s, and she suddenly realized she was as in love with him as she’d always been. Nothing would ever change her feelings toward him.

Too bad she’d been too late to realize the truth of her heart.

As to why he hadn’t stayed and fought for her—well, that was a question she might never know the answer to.

Her thoughts jumped back to the present when Bruce pointed an accusatory finger in Chad’s direction.

“I’m here to save Candy,” Bruce declared. “I’m going to fulfill her dreams. You, on the other hand, are just trying to ruin everything.”

“Ruin everything?” Chad shook his head, looking flabbergasted. “But the whole reason I’m offering to buy the café is so that she—”

“You’ better just leave, pal,” Bruce growled. “We don’t need you or your client. Candy and I are going to make our café a credit to Sweet Tart Village.”

Our?

What was Bruce blustering on about? He was as nutty as a chocolate-covered almond if he thought Candy would do anything with him. Even borrowing money from him would be a huge mistake. She would just have to find some other way to save her café.

“Our?” Chad probed, echoing Candy’s thoughts. His gaze was as hard as a jawbreaker.

As quick as the serpent he resembled, Bruce reached out and snatched Candy’s hand. His palm was as sticky and slimy as melted marshmallows and Candy pulled back, but Bruce wouldn’t let her go.

“Yes, our,” Bruce assured Chad, his pompous gaze slid from face to face, encompassing everyone in the room. “Just as soon as we are married.”

Love at the Candy Heart Café – Chapter Six by Christine Johnson

Love at the Candy Heart Café 

 Chapter Six 

by Christine Johnson

Candy managed to keep up the smile until Bruce Tart strolled into the café. Never mind his dark good looks and oily smile or that the Tarts owned some of the choicest property in Sweet Tart Village. Ever since high school, the man had given her grief. He would interrupt her and Taffy to boast about his father’s businesses. He’d asked her out more than once, even when she was dating Chad. She always turned him down.

“Hi there, Candy.” He eased her way with that too-bright smile of his.

“Seat yourself.” She waved at the nearly-empty tables and retreated behind the counter.

He leaned against that counter—directly in front of her. “Maybe I don’t want to sit. Maybe I want some of that—” He surveyed the display case. “—rhubarb pie? Who eats that stuff? No wonder this place is going downhill.”

Candy choked back a retort. The customer was always right, Grandma used to say with a sigh. Though Candy wasn’t ready to fully agree, insulting the heir to the richest fortune in town wouldn’t help her or the Candy Heart Café. Bruce’s dad sat on the bank board.

“We have banana cream also.”

He leaned a little closer. “That pie looks as sweet as you.”

Candy hid her gagging behind a cough. “Not as sweet as our cupcakes.”

He gave her an odd look that she ignored.

“I’ll get you a piece of the banana cream.” She opened the case and removed the slice of pie. After setting a fork on the plate, she handed it to him along with a napkin.

Instead of carrying it to a table, he took a bite right there. “Good. Not great but good.”

Candy bristled. Everyone raved over Honey Sweet’s pies. “I’ll have you know—”

“—Just like your shop,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “A little drab but with some effort, it could be the highlight of Sweet Tart Village.”

Candy bit her tongue instead of mentioning that his father could have swayed the bank to give her a loan to do just that.

Bruce pushed aside the pie and leaned against the counter again. “I could help out, and you wouldn’t have to sell.”

Where did he get that idea? Chad? “I’ll have you know that I’m not selling this place.”

“Of course you’re not.” His smile made her shiver, and not in a good way. “But sometimes there’s no choice. I hear that snake Chad Hershey is back in town.”

Hearing someone like Bruce call Chad a snake was a lot different than thinking it herself. “So? We split up a long time ago.”

Something that not only still stung but had begun to feel like a bottomless void that would never be filled. Designing wedding gowns and working at a bridal shop had only fed her desire for a happily-ever-after, something that she was beginning to think would never happen in Sweet Tart Village.

Bruce laid his hand on hers. “Don’t worry. There’s always a solution.”

For a second her spirits lifted, but then she considered the source. There would be strings attached. With the Tarts, there were always strings attached. 

Love at the Candy Heart Cafe (Our Valentine's Serial)

Love at the Candy Heart Café (Our 2018 Valentine Serial)

Chapter Two

Pamela Tracy

Sell the Candy Heart Cafe?  Never!

Chad Hershey was’t surprised by her refusal.  She’d always been one to speak first, think later.  Maybe if she’d been a little less outspoken, they...

No, the old feelings shouldn’t, could not, surface now.  Buying the Candy Heart Cafe was his focus.  His client was depending on Chad to seal the deal, and Chad always delivered.

Except once.

Heading for the corner booth on the left - mostly because when he and Candy had been teenagers the corner booth on the right had been their favorite spot - he sat and positioned his briefcase on the table.  

He didn’t know what to react to first, the briefcase that immediately slanted as the table slanted and was sliding toward the table’s edge or the spring poking through the booth bench and spearing him right in the...

He saved his briefcase and then scooted over a full foot, pretty sure he had a non-fixable snag in the seat of his Italian suit.  Great, just great.  He fought back annoyance and scanned the cafe.

It was smaller than he remember and looked, well, outdated.

“So...” and elderly man shuffled over, coffee cup in hand, and slowly sat himself down across - uninvited - from Chad, “you must know Candy, she called you by your first name.  Chad, was it?”

Chad got the idea that Mr. Friendly knew very well the name was Chad.  

Mr. Friendly continued, “Candy couldn’t sell this place.  It’s her and her grandmother’s pride and joy.”  He pointed to photos that dotted the walls.  “The whole history of the place, their family, resides here.”

Chad focused on the photo closest to him and immediately shut his eyes.  The annoyance he still felt battled with something else.  

Memories.

Mr. Friendly said, “Hey, young fella, something wrong with you?”

Chad shook his head, opened his eyes, and said, “No, but I’ll need you to excuse me.  I’ve got work-”

“Hey!”  Mr. Friendly all but came out of his side of the booth as he struggled to get a good look at the photo next to Chad.  “Hey! that young man in the photo has to be you.  And, why, that’s Candy sitting by your side all smiles.”

Mr. Friendly’s expression went from surprise to thoughtful to darkened before he muttered,  “I think I know who you are and what you did to Candy.   I don’t intend to sit with you.”

Placing both hands on the table, the older gentleman pushed himself up, his face slightly pink with exertion, and his accusing eyes never leaving Chad’s face.

The table wasn’t stable enough for the man to use as a crutch.  Sure enough, Mr. No-Longer-Friendly’s coffee cup slid just as Chad’s briefcase had slid a minute earlier.  

Chad had saved his briefcase.  He didn’t manage to save the coffee cup which slid toward him and crashed into his lap, spreading across Italian fabric that cost more than the bright pink Volkswagen parked outside.  

The coffee cup wasn't the first thing Chad had broken in his very cafe

Chad shot a look to the cash register where Candy was handing back change to a customer.  

Yup, she’d seen everything and was not rushing over with a clean, wet towel and apologies.

“I’m not sorry,” Mr. No-Longer-Friendly said.

The Saga of Lovelace Lane--Valentine's Serial--Lenora Worth

Hello. Today we're starting a new Valentine's inspired serial for you to enjoy while we put the finishing touches on a new look for our blog. More on that later but this story will give you a hint of things to come! Enjoy over the next couple of weeks!

The Saga of Lovelace Lane

Chapter One—Lenora Worth

“I’ve inherited what?”

Rose Redmond stared across at the lawyer who’d tracked her down in the basement. The other employees who worked with Rose at the quaint historic library situated in a crumbling old building by the San Francisco Bay rarely came down into the basement. Too old and musty, too creepy and cold. Too much history to go through.

Rose loved it. History was her life, her career, her salvation.

“As I told you in the many phone messages I left you, Miss Redmond,” the gray-haired lawyer said in a fussy tone, “your grandfather Valentin Redmond has left you the town of Lacelace, Virginia, population five-hundred and twenty-two. But you need to get back there immediately. The estate executor needs to discuss some important matters with you.”

Rose sank down on the old rickety stool where she sat for hours on end reading over old documents and lovingly turning the pages of ancient tombs. “The whole town? I now own the whole town?”

“Yes,” the frazzled man said. “But from what I hear, someone wants to buy it right away and save you a lot of trouble.”

“Who would want to do that?” she asked, thinking she could use a big chunk of cash. But this was the worst time for her to have to head back to Virginia. She missed her grandfather terribly but he’d died months ago and she had big plans and a big promotion to work toward.

“I have no idea. But Mason Grant, the executor of your estate, says it’s urgent that you return. The buyer wants to bulldoze Love Inspired Lane—the main street in town—and turn it into a condo complex and modern-type village.”

Rose pushed at the haphazard mousy brown bun she always wore at work and shoved her black-framed glasses closer to her eyes. “Why am I just now hearing about a will?”

The man looked uncomfortable. “According to Mr. Grant, the will went missing. He found it in the most improbable spot.”

A missing will? Someone wanting to destroy the place where she’d spent all of her summers until she’d gone away to college, the place where she’d met that boy long ago on the stone path following the lake? The boy she’d spent a few precious hours with before she’d left without ever knowing his name.

“I have a big project coming up,” she said. “I can’t possibly go to Virginia now.”

But in her heart, Rose knew she had to go. Grandfather deserved that much at least. And … she had to wonder if the boy she’d left behind would still be standing there, waiting for her.

----

Mason Grant stood by the lake waters, wondering for the thousandth time about her. The beautiful young girl he’d bumped into—literally—on that early fall day so long ago. Fifteen years maybe. He’d been close to eighteen. And she must have been sixteen?

Long russet brown hair and the bluest of eyes. Eyes that gazed at him as if she’d known him for all eternity. And he’d felt the same.

He’d just arrived with his family that day. Lonely and brooding over having to leave New York, he’d vowed to go away to law school and never look back. And then he’d spotted her. Now, here he stood, trapped in time. A small town lawyer who loved this place and couldn’t leave it. But if he didn’t hear from the hard-to-find Rose Redmond soon, he’d have to take drastic measures to fight the corporation that threatened to mow down the quaint village.

Did the woman even know what a treasure she’d inherited?

He prayed the people he’d hired had found the right Rose Redmond. And he hoped she’d arrive before it was too late.

The Sweethearts of Truffle Manor. Chapter Nine. by Christine Johnson

Adette clung to the door of Devon’s pickup as they careened around corners and sped down straight-aways following Carmella’s Kia to Nougat Peak. The short distance seemed to take forever. Would they be too late?

As if reading her mind, he said, “She’ll hang on until you get there.”

He couldn’t know that for certain, but she appreciated the thought.

Upon arrival, Devon leapt out of the truck and helped her down from the passenger seat. The long, flowing gown was a real hindrance with a gimpy ankle and again he lifted her into his arms and carried her across the threshold of the assisted living center. Not the threshold she had dreamed of crossing in a man’s arms, but she appreciated that it got them to Grandma more quickly.

Carmella led them to Grandma’s room and then closed the door, leaving Adette and Devon alone with the patient, who was sitting up and looking awfully chipper for a woman on her deathbed. In fact, if Adette wasn’t mistaken, Grandma was grinning.

“What’s going on?” Adette said.

Devon set her down, but she wasn’t steady enough to let go of this rock of strength standing beside her.

“Grandma?”

Candy Dunkleman patted the bed. “Sit down, dear. I’m glad you were able to make it here.”

Adette looked back at Devon. He appeared as mystified as she was.

“But I thought…Carmella said that you were…” Adette couldn’t say the words.

“Dying?” Grandma shrugged. “We’re all dying from the day we’re born. What matters is how we use the time God has given us in between.” She smiled at Devon. “I see you two have met.” Then her gaze landed on Adette’s hand—her left hand. “Ahhhhh.”

Adette felt her cheeks heat. “It’s not the way it looks. Devon, uh, well, he found your ring and—”

“And you accused me of stealing it.” Devon chose that moment to find his voice.

Again Adette tried to twist it off. Again it wouldn’t budge. “I just need some lotion, and I’ll get it off.”

“I don’t need that ring anymore, dear,” Grandma said with a wave of her hand. “It was always meant for you—and the man you love.” She looked to Devon with that grin again.

“But we just met,” Adette protested.

Grandma clucked her tongue. “Don’t you remember that summer when you were a girl and that lovely family, the Hersheys, were staying next door? You and Dev—Devon—spent many a day together.”

“Dev?” Adette stared at him. “You’re Dev? You don’t look anything like that scrawny boy who taught me how to shoot an arrow in exchange for cupcakes.”

He looked amused. “I have grown up.” His gaze lingered on her face even as his voice lowered. “As have you.”

“Do you mean to say that you knew about this?” She looked from Devon to Grandma and back again. “Was this a plot?”

“I’m innocent.” Devon held up his hands. “Honestly, I forgot about that summer until recently, and I never put two and two together. After all, your family called you Addie. And I had no idea Candy—your grandmother—wasn’t near death.”

They both looked to Grandma, who was definitely grinning, though she attempted to look remorseful.

“I might have had a tiny part in bringing you two together.”

Adette tried to wrap her mind around Grandma’s Oscar-worthy performance. “Then the house. Did you really sell it?”

“Yes, I did. Devon owns Truffle Manor now. He’s going to fix it up properly, so it’s a home again, like it was in your childhood.”

“Then you don’t need to be here.”

“Oh, I do,” Grandma patted her leg. “Rehabilitation for a twisted ankle. I fell on those rickety stairs.”

Adette could commiserate.

“But you’re coming home once I have a room fixed up for you,” Devon insisted.

“Home?” Adette wasn’t sure she’d heard right.

“To Truffle Manor.” Except he wasn’t looking at Grandma. He was looking into her eyes. “That’s where you belong, where all the Dunklemans belong.”

A warmth started deep inside and blossomed outward. Grandma wasn’t near death and would return home once her ankle healed. Moreover, if she understood Devon correctly, he was inviting her to visit too.

She gingerly stood. He moved to support her, and the warmth of his touch matched the warmth in her heart. “I would like that.”

Devon’s smile could melt sugar. It surely sent her heart spinning.

“I can’t wait to see it when it’s done,” she managed to say, though it came out breathless.

“I was hoping you’d help design the rooms.”

She couldn’t break his gaze. Didn’t want to. He was asking her to be a part of making Truffle Manor a home. “I would like to do that.” Already the ideas swirled in her head.

“Goodness, boy,” Grandma said, “what’s taking you so long? Go ahead and kiss her. You’ve already given her the ring.”

Adette was about to protest that they weren’t engaged, but Devon’s lips met hers, and she forgot all about that technicality. From the first tantalizing preview to the passionate finale, it was everything a kiss should be. She leaned into him, lost in the moment. This was no stage kiss. This was the real thing, filled with promise.

When he finished the encore and gave her the abashed smile she remembered from childhood, she knew Devon was someone very special. Maybe even The One.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmured.

“So it is.” Complete with Grandma playing cupid. She grinned at him. “Will you be my valentine?”

In answer, he kissed her again. 

The Sweethearts of Truffle Manor. Chapter 8 by Christine Johnson

Adette’s heart sank at the grim news.

“Grandma,” she gasped, forgetting for one moment the altogether too handsome man standing behind her, not to mention the ring he’d just placed on her finger.

Was she too late? All the excuses over the months and years felt as flimsy as tissue paper. Why hadn’t she visited more often? Work and auditions didn’t mean anything compared to family. But it wasn’t just that. She’d let the scandal over the chocolate vat drowning keep her away. Her bravado in front of Devon was just an act, as was her disinterest in the house. She did love it. She’d always loved it. She’d just told Grandma not to talk about giving her the house because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

“We need to hurry.” Carmella Sweet motioned toward her Kia, which was waiting near the door.

Adette couldn’t imagine Devon folding himself into that little car. Speaking of Devon, why did Grandma insist he be there for her final moments? Shouldn’t that be reserved for family?

She swayed at the thought, then jerked back to counterbalance, and bumped into a very solid chest. A far too pleasant sensation shimmied down her spine. This was ridiculous. Simply because he’d placed Grandma’s wedding ring on her finger? She tugged on it, but it wouldn’t slip over the knuckle.

“We’ll take my truck,” the rumbling male voice behind her commanded.

He slipped an arm around her waist, and she shivered at his touch. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. Her grandmother hovered near death. She should not be thinking about the muscular man now helping her down the last few stairs. She should be mad at him, not impressed by his thoughtful concern for her twisted ankle. She needed to stand on her own.

“Ouch!” Pain shot from her ankle to her brain with sizzling speed.

Without a word of warning, he scooped her up and carried her across the foyer, out the front door and down the steps.

“Put me down!” The protest was half-hearted. She was rather enjoying his strong arms and oh so masculine scent. Like fresh-sawn wood. 

“Not until we get to the truck.”

He deposited her in the passenger seat and closed the door after ensuring she was secure. Then he hopped in the driver’s side. Devon was clearly a man who took charge. Though she appreciated that, his scowl and fierce concentration made her wonder. Just who was this man, and why had Grandma asked for him?