Jean-Claude

Chapter 1

Mid-afternoons at the diner were nice and quiet. The high school crowd had moved on to practices, games, or clubs, leaving a smattering of regulars who stopped by for a post-school snack—a cup of soup, an order of poutine, a milkshake.

The evening menu was set and the kitchen crew was in the midst of preparing for dinner…at a leisurely pace. In an hour or so, that would change. This was a sophisticated operation and I ran a tight ship. No idle chatter, no fooling around. My kitchen was a well-oiled machine and my staff was the epitome of grace under pressure with pristine uniforms and impeccable manners. But in the afternoons…not so much.

The fry cook was shaking his hips to dance music I didn’t pretend to recognize, one of my sous chef was singing along off-key while the waitstaff gathered at the prep island to gossip about a new episode of Love Island or annoying customers or…me? Who knew, who cared? 

Not me. I was tired. It had been a long day and I looked forward to a night off. As soon as the manager arrived, I’d head home and make dinner for my husband. Maybe chicken and mushroom fricassee or a cassoulet or—

“Uncle JC, what does X and O mean?”

“X and O,” I repeated, wandering toward the little girl sitting at the counter with a stack of…heart cards? “What is this you are doing?” 

“Making Valentines for school,” Ava replied, her tongue darting to the side of her mouth in concentration as she signed her name on a card.

“Ah, zee X is a kiss and zee O is a hug. Or so they say.”

She paused, forehead knit in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“Me either,” I admitted, inclining my chin at the cards. “Those are mignon.”

“What does that mean?”

“Cute.” I tugged a dishtowel from under the counter to wipe the condensation under Ava’s water glass.

She bit her lower lip as she spread her collection of heart-themed cards along the counter. “I know, but I don’t want to give kisses and hugs to everyone in my class. Yuck. It’s not ’propriate.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, but couldn’t quite contain my smile. My business partner’s six-year-old daughter was always amusing. “Why not?”

“’Cause I have to give cards to everyone. It’s the Valentine rule.”

“You don’t like everyone in your class?”

“I mostly do, but I don’t want to kiss them or hug them. Ew.”

This time when she wrinkled her nose, I laughed aloud.

“It’s not a real kiss or hug, mon chou. It’s only, um…” I snapped my fingers. “What is zee word?”

Ava brushed her hair from her eyes. “Pretend?”

“Symbolic. For Christmas we have trees, wreaths, mistletoe, and zee chubby man with the presents,” I said.

“Santa.”

“Oui. And for Valentine’s Day, you have hearts, flowers, chocolate, and zee X and Os.”

She didn’t appear mollified by my explanation. “Nicholas Asherby will think I like him.”

“I don’t think he will read too much into the card.”

The poor thing seemed more miserable. “I should have picked out the Valentines with puppies on them instead.”

Ava sighed heavily and dropped her face into her arms. Oh dear. I was no good with consolations. I stared at the top of her head for a moment then glanced toward the front door, hoping one of her dads would show up and save the day. No such luck.

“Hmm. You could trade with your brother,” I suggested.

“Alec got hockey Valentines. He won’t trade with me.”

Probably not.

“Fine, I will trade with you.” I wiggled my fingers meaningfully. “Allez, give me zee hearts, I will purchase the puppies and deliver them to you.” 

She popped up, squinting at me from under her bangs. “Who will you give these to?”

“My Valentine, of course.”

“Uncle Riley?”

I nodded. “Oui, I’ll cross out your name and put mine instead. He will love it.”

Ava bounced on her stool. “I can do it for you.”

“We have a deal.” I held my hand out to her.

She giggled as she shook it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“In French, s’il te plaît.”

“Mercy, mercy, mercy.”

“Close enough.”

Chapter 2

I kept my end of the bargain. Instead of going straight home, I made a detour to McMurray’s Drug Store where my six-year-old honorary niece told me I would find the puppy Valentines. The only problem was that I had momentarily forgotten that Elmwood was the size of a postage stamp and every out-of-the-ordinary purchase was up for discussion.

“Why, JC, I don’t think I’ve ever sold you a package of Valentines,” Mrs. McMurray said as she rung up my order. “What’s the occasion? Are you giving these out to your staff?”

I snorted at the idea. “No. They’re—”

“For Riley?” The older woman mistook my blank stare as affirmation and an invitation to offer advice. “Oh, that’s adorable. Why do I think the puppies are a sign? Oh, my! Are you getting a dog?”

“A dog? No, we’re not—”

“But you’re thinking about it? Love it! I have the perfect Valentine addition for you.” She strode from her register to a heart-themed shelf and grabbed a stuffed dog of undetermined origin. Perhaps a poodle? Hard to say. “These just came in. I bet he’ll love this.”

I wanted to ask her in what universe she thought a grown man would want a stuffed animal for a Valentine gift, but I was more concerned with buying Ava’s cards and getting out of there immediately. “Sure, yes…I will buy that too. Why not?”

Mrs. McMurray twittered about romance and love and nonsense in general as she ran the scanner over the tag. Of course, there was a glitch. A teenager I recognized from Riley’s junior’s team who worked at the drug store part time fetched a new stuffed toy with a better tag. More unnecessary conversation ensued, but what could I do? Grin and bear it.

I made my escape and delivered the puppy cards to a bewildered-looking Nolan. I explained the X and O situation, my solution, and tried to bid him a quick adieu.

“Wait up. You bought Ava new Valentines cards? Why?”

“Yours were terrible. Too mushy, romantic…not appropriate for zee first grade or so she says. I don’t know these things. I don’t have kids. You weren’t there and in a panic, I thought of a new solution. Voila…a trade. I have the hearts and she has the puppies. Everyone is happy. Bon nuit!”

He grabbed my sleeve before I could make a getaway. “Hang on. That was really nice of you.”

“I am sometimes nice.”

“You are. To be clear…the puppy cards are for Ava?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Nolan. Pay attention. The Valentines are hers. Transaction complete, I’m going home to make dinner.”

“Okay, cool. It’s just that I heard you were buying a real puppy and wanted to be a thousand percent positive you weren’t going to deliver it here.”

“Nolan, have you gone around zee corner?” I deadpanned.

“Uh…the bend?”

“Yes, that too.” I threw my hands in the air in frustration. “That is insanity, my friend. You have two kids, three dogs, a husband, two cats, and a turtle. Why would I bring you a puppy? Look at me. I’m not that nice.”

Nolan burst out laughing. “You’re very nice. Thank you. I just heard something about you buying a dog.”

I slapped my hand to my forehead. “This town is too small. I bought a stuffed animal. That’s it…nothing more.”

I continued in French until I ran out of steam. His French was rusty at best, but Nolan knew me too well to be offended anyway.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Understood. Thanks again and—”

“Do not wish me a happy Valentine’s day,” I snapped irritably.

Nolan made a button-lip motion. I was halfway to my car when he blurted, “Happy Valentine’s day! Shoot. Sorry, I don’t know how that slipped out.”

I flipped him off.

That was the end of my Valentine good deed. Chapter over and done.

Or so I thought.

I was wrong.

Chapter 3

“Mmm, this is delicious.” Riley closed his eyes and moaned around his fork.

I raised my brows. “I’m getting hard just watching you eat.”

I wasn’t lying. I’d had a semi from the moment he’d walked through the door and it hadn’t gone anywhere. This was a common enough occurrence. My husband was easily the most handsome man I’d ever met.

No kidding. Riley Thoreau-Bouchard was movie star gorgeous—tall, dark hair, lean, muscular, and athletic. After all these years, I was still amazed he was mine. I supposed he was a sucker for sarcasm, dubious wit, and a not-so-fit physique. Or maybe he just liked my chicken fricassee…and my dick.

“How romantic.” He chuckled lightly, dabbing his napkin at the corner of his sexy mouth. “Speaking of romance, I heard you were at the drug store buying puppy Valentines cards.”

“Mon dieu.” I shook my head in dismay.

“There’s also a rumor that we might be getting a dog.”

“Oh, real-ly?” I drawled.

Riley’s eyes twinkled merrily. “If it’s true, I’m a little torn. A pet is a big responsibility and we need to be sure we’re ready for the commitment. Walking, feeding, vet appointments.”

He was teasing me and enjoying every moment of it. I had no doubt that he’d pieced together my afternoon and had come to the correct conclusion that an innocent purchase had snowballed into a fictional story.

Two could play at this game.

“You’re right. A lot to consider,” I replied evenly.

He blinked in shock. “Whoa! You want a pet too? We talked about it ages ago, but we’ve both been so busy with hockey and the restaurants. Of course, plenty of people have demanding jobs and still manage to take good care of their animals. We could do it too.”

Oh.

Fuck.

I buried my nose in my wineglass as panic set in.

What kind of dog would he want and where would I get it? I hadn’t had a dog in a long time. I liked them, though. A lot. Of course, Riley did too. I knew that. He was the first to greet our friends’ pets, throw balls for them, give belly rubs, and sneak them treats under the table. He hadn’t mentioned us having one of our own in forever, but now…

“You want a dog?”

“I…yeah. I do,” he replied.  

Well, could we?

I supposed we had more than enough room in our house and we had a big yard, but…

“One moment, please.” I squeezed his hand as I pushed away from the table, returning a minute later with the stuffed animal Mrs. McMurray had foisted on me. “This is the dog in question. He has a heart collar so he might be a Valentine. Bon. I don’t think he’ll eat much but he may collect dust. I’m allergic to dust which means I’ll be the one going to the doctor, not him.”

Riley threw his head back and guffawed. “Okay, I think my original theory was right.”

“If your theory is that Mrs. McMurray wanted to get rid of the Valentine stuffed pets and found an opening when I bought the puppy Valentines card, then you are correct.” I told him about the XO situation and explained my solution for Ava, which earned me a sappy grin. And oui, now my heart was beating a little too fast. 

Riley beamed as he lifted my hand to his lips. “You’re the best and coolest and kindest man I know. I’m so fucking happy you’re mine. Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime, mon amour. So very much.” I scooted my chair close, captured Riley’s face between my hands, and kissed him with everything I had in me.

“Hmm. Wow.” He fluttered his eyelashes and reached for the stuffed animal. “Thank you for my early Valentine present. I love it and I—”

“No, no. This was never your Valentine present. It was an accident.” I examined the fluffy white stuffed toy critically. “Okay, I supposed it’s not hideous, but I would have done better if it had been my idea from the start and not a trick.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, I would have done research and made sure his eyes weren’t so…beady.”

Riley barked a laugh. “Well, I think it’s cute.”

“Everyone knows you have terrible taste, Riley. You married me,” I scoffed.

“And I’m so glad I did.” He kissed me again. “Hey, let’s just…not do anything special for Valentine’s day. I don’t like pressure holidays and we both know this is the real thing, no roses or chocolate needed.”

I nodded in agreement and changed the topic to the forecasted snowstorm and upcoming hockey tournament at the high school. I told him about the shipment of poultry that showed up late at C’est Bon this morning and a new recipe I wanted to try. And Riley talked about a new coach they’d interviewed for the junior varsity team at the high school as we cleared the table and washed dishes together.

If anyone overheard us, they would have thought we were a couple of boring middle-aged men, but the truth of us was something so much sweeter. It was in the way we moved with a rhythm and cadence learned over time. It was soft touches and affectionate looks, and the underlying anticipation of more.

This was love. This man owned my heart in every possible way.

A silly Hallmark holiday was almost insulting. There were no cards with heartfelt messages that conveyed how deeply I loved him and no flowers on Earth beautiful enough.

He said as much and I agreed, but I had to do something.

I could cook a fabulous meal, bake a chocolate soufflé, and bring my sexiest game to the bedroom…after we’d digested, of course.

Or, I could go rogue.

Chapter 4

Valentine’s Day

“Hey, I was going to stop by the store for some orange juice. Do we need anything else?”

“No, no, no. I bought orange juice,” I lied. “Come home.”

Cell phone silence.

“You literally just told me that you forgot to buy orange juice.”

“Oh, well…I don’t remember. Not important. Just come home.”

“Are you up to something?” he crooned. “Something sexy?”

Not even close.

“Hurry, Riley.”

I put my coat on, tucked my Valentine cards into my pocket, and proceeded to pace the driveway until his SUV pulled up. I moved to the driver’s side and kissed him soundly when he rolled down his window.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

“Yes, and you’re coming with me. I need to drive, though, so…shoo.” Unbelievable, he didn’t argue. I settled in behind the wheel, fastened my seatbelt, and put the SUV in reverse. I stopped at the curb to hand over the stack of cards in my pocket. “These are for you. Happy heart day and all that nonsense.”

Riley snorted and ripped open an envelope. “‘To my forever Valentine. Be mine.’ Aww. ‘I love you. XOXO.’ Love you too. Geez, how many of these did Ava make?”

“Twenty? Maybe more.”

He continued opening and reading the cards as I passed the Black Horse Inn and drove the winding stretch of road from Elmwood to Fallbrook.

Riley didn’t look up until I pulled in the animal shelter. Confusion giving way to something soft and fragile.

“Jean-Claude…what are we doing?”

I shifted to face him. “We’re going to choose a dog to adopt. We don’t have to decide today. We can visit a few times and get to know him or her…if you want.”

“Are you sure you want a dog? It’ll be yours too, you know.”

“Yes, I’m ready and willing to take on the responsibility. I think it will be fun.” I paused a moment, adding, “It will also be smelly and our shoes will pay a price, but c’est la vie. I want you to be happy.”

“Oh, baby. I am happy. I don’t need a pet or—”

“I know, but we’re here, so let’s meet a few furry friends, eh? There’s no obligation.”

Of course, twenty minutes later, we were in love with a medium-sized black and white mutt with floppy ears, kind eyes, and a bouncy personality. We didn’t need to think about it, sleep on it, or talk about it. We looked at each other and nodded.

An hour or so later, we were the proud parents of…

“What should we name her?” Riley asked, cradling the dog in his lap.

“Spot? Fido? Rover?”

He snickered. “No, I think we can do better.”

“How about…Valentine?” Silence. The tips of my ear went hot. Oh, no. I’d gone mushy again. Once upon a time, I was a fierce D-man and now look at me. I was a sap.

“Perfect. And by the way, this is possibly the most romantic thing you’ve ever done.”

“Okay, you should know that I am very romantic always,” I huffed in faux indignance.

Riley kissed the top of Valentine’s head then reached for my right hand and kissed it too. “I do know. Je t’aime…and happy Valentine’s day, my love.”

My heart swelled in my chest.

Look, I wasn’t sure how I’d gone from buying puppy Valentines for a six-year-old to becoming a dog parent. Strange. Perhaps life was a series of innocent events—one leading to another and another. And if you were lucky, you found someone who made everything better, brighter, and richer than your wildest dreams. That was Riley for me.

My heart…my Valentine.

Oh boy, and now we had a dog.

Oui, this was love.