15 Valentine Place

“Maddie, I’d like to start over.”

She was uncomfortable with the message she saw in Dylan’s eyes. It said, “I’m a man and you’re an attractive woman.” She didn’t want to get that kind of look from her landlady’s son. “You don’t want the coleslaw?” she asked, deliberately misunderstanding him.

“I’m talking about last night. There’s no point in pretending it didn’t happen. But we did manage to live under the same roof without problems when we were teenagers. We should be able to do the same as adults, don’t you think?”

She almost said no. Every instinct told her Dylan could be big trouble for any woman.

“I don’t see why not,” she lied.

As if he knew she wasn’t being sincere, he said, “It’s a big house.”

Not big enough.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to 14 Valentine Place, a wonderful old Victorian house that is home to three special women. Walk through the front door and you’ll meet Leonie Donovan, a mother who is very wise when it comes to affairs of the heart. Living upstairs are her two tenants, Maddie Lamont and Krystal Graham, two single women who try to be smart when it comes to romance, but occasionally need a little advice from their landlady.

One person who doesn’t need Leonie’s advice is her son Dylan. When he comes home for a visit, the last thing on his mind is romance. But as his mother is quick to point out, sometimes love happens when one least expects it—with or without any coaching.

I hope you enjoy reading about the residents of 14 Valentine Place as much as I enjoyed telling their story. I love hearing from readers and welcome your letters. You can write to me c/o MFW, P.O. Box 24107, Minneapolis, MN 55424 or visit me via the Internet at www.pamelabauer.com.

Wishing you a Valentine’s Day filled with love and laughter,

Pamela Bauer

14 Valentine Place

Pamela Bauer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

14 Valentine Place

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

Dear Leonie: I’m in love with a guy who doesn’t even know I exist. Not that it would do me any good if he did notice me. He’s popular and he’s a senior. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much to be in love. What am I going to do? Will I ever get over him?

Signed: Sad Sophomore

Leonie says: Time has healed many a broken heart. What you should do is enjoy being young and have fun. Boys will come and go in your life. When you meet the perfect guy, you’ll be happy you forgot about this one.

“I SMELL CHOCOLATE.”

The accusatory tone had Madeline Lamont glancing over her shoulder. “I plead guilty.”

“I should have known it was you,” Leonie Donovan said, pointing a finger at Maddie. “Krystal hates to cook. What are you doing up so late?” she asked in the maternal tone Maddie had come to expect from the woman who was more like a sorority house mother than a landlady.

“I’m making fudge. I found the recipe on the Internet. It’s supposed to be the same one they use at the candy shop over on Seventh Street.”

“I thought you gave up chocolate for New Year’s.”

“I did. I went four days without it before I realized the error of my ways.” She stirred the dark brown mixture patiently. “You do know that some people consider chocolate a health food.”

Leonie chuckled. “Some being us, right?”

“Of course.”

“So when will this fudge be ready to help save our hearts?”

Maddie eyed the candy thermometer. “It’s almost done. I’m surprised you’re still up. You’re not working, are you?”

“I am.” Leonie stretched, rubbing the muscles at the back of her neck. “There were so many letters this week that I’m having a difficult time choosing which ones to use in my column.”

“I would imagine lots of people want advice as to what they should do about Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s what I was hoping, but most of my mail is from the brokenhearted. Unfortunately, there were an awful lot of people who made ending a relationship one of their New Year’s resolutions.”

“January is a bad time of the year for relationships,” Maddie noted pragmatically. “No one wants to break up right before Christmas, so they wait until the holiday season is over and then they say goodbye.”

“Is that the voice of experience speaking?” Leonie asked, propping a hip against the counter.

“As a matter of fact it is. I remember this one guy I dated. He had huge sideburns.” She laughed. “You should have seen how my friends teased me about that. They nicknamed him Elvis. Anyway, we started going out in July and by the time Christmas came along we—” She stopped in mid-sentence as a hissing sound alerted her to the fact that the fudge mixture was bubbling over the rim of the pot.

“Oh no! It’s not supposed to do that! I sprayed the edges with vegetable oil.” She groaned, frantically lifting the pot off the burner. “Now look at the mess I’ve made!”

Leonie reached for a sponge. “Don’t worry about it. That old stove has seen worse spills than that.”

“Be careful,” Maddie cautioned as Leonie mopped up the gooey liquid. “The burner’s hot.”

“Ooh, this is painful,” Leonie agreed.

“You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”

“No, I just hate to see good chocolate go to waste.” Leonie licked her finger.

“I should know better than to try to cook and talk about my old boyfriends at the same time,” Maddie said with a sigh.

“Speaking of boyfriends, I saw Jeffrey in the post office this morning,” Leonie said, rinsing out the sponge at the sink.

Jeffrey Anderson was a teaching assistant in the English department at the university, but he was more of a friend to Maddie than a boyfriend. In the past six months they’d grown closer and she’d been patient, hoping that what had started out as a friendship would turn into something else, but so far not even his poetry, which he wrote especially for her, could kindle the flame of romance between them.

“Were his eyes glazed over?” she asked, her attention on the fudge. “He’s been working night and day on his thesis.”

“He did look a bit frazzled. He asked me to give you a message, but I’m wondering if it’s safe… I mean, we don’t want to lose any more of the fudge, do we?”

“No need to worry about that. It’s done.” Maddie peered closely at the candy thermometer before removing the pot from the stove and setting it on a wire rack to cool.

“In that case, he said to tell you he misses you,” Leonie told her.

“He misses his back rubs, especially now that he’s spending long hours bent over the computer working on his paper.” Maddie added a chunk of butter to the mixture.

“You aren’t seeing him at all during semester break?”

She shook her head. “We’re both too busy, although we might go to the Saint Paul Sunday Chamber Music Series next week.”

“He mentioned that his parents were coming for a visit.”

“Another reason we won’t be together. His mother has a way of seeing things in a relationship that aren’t there. I call it wishful vision.”

“She’s hoping that you and Jeffrey are more than friends?” Leonie asked with a lift of her brows.

Maddie began clearing away the measuring cups and spoons that littered the counter. “He’s an only child and his mother is ready to be a grandmother. Need I say more?”

Leonie smiled. “Then it’s a good thing she lives nine hundred miles away, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” she said, rinsing the dirty dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. “Jeffrey and I don’t need that kind of pressure.”

“So he’s uncomfortable with her attitude, too?”

“Of course he is. He knows I’m not ready for that kind of a relationship. And neither is he.”

“Are you sure? About his feelings, I mean?” Before she could answer, Leonie held up one hand. “You don’t need to answer that, Maddie. I’m not supposed to wear my romance coach hat when I’m out of the office and you certainly don’t need advice when it comes to love.”

“You weren’t wearing your business hat. You were just being you,” Maddie insisted. “And looking out for the daughter of an old friend.”

Leonie smiled affectionately. “You are so much like your mother. I think she’d be happy to know that you’re staying here with me, don’t you?”

Maddie nodded, a lump forming in her throat. Even though it had been four years since her mother had died, she still couldn’t think about her without feeling the pain of her loss. “When we were kids she used to always tell us that if we ever were in trouble, we should call you.”

“Well, I’m glad you came to me—even if you weren’t in trouble,” Leonie said. “If you hadn’t suggested I rent out some of the rooms in this big old house, I’d still be a lonely, grieving widow. Sharing my home with women was exactly what I needed to move on after Frank died.”

The women Leonie referred to were the college students who’d rented rooms in the house at 14 Valentine Place. At one time there had been four of them, but now there were only two, Maddie and a hairstylist named Krystal Graham, who had moved in while she was a student at a cosmetology school nearby.

“You did all of us a favor, Leonie. Finding affordable housing near the university can be a nightmare,” Maddie remarked.

“But if it weren’t for you girls, my life would be quite different than it is today,” she said with a grateful smile. “I don’t think I’d be a romance coach if you hadn’t been here to encourage me.”

“Oh, I bet you would have. And the reason you’re so good at what you do is that you and Frank had such a wonderful marriage.”

Leonie sighed. “It’s hard to believe he’s been gone over two years.”

The sadness in her eyes tugged at Maddie’s heart. “He’d be proud of you if he could see what a success you are. And I doubt he’d be surprised.”

“You mean unlike my sons? I don’t think any of them expected their mom would get paid for dishing out advice on romance,” she said on a chuckle.

“No, but they’re all very proud of you, too.”

“Three of them are anyway. Dylan doesn’t really know the extent of my business.”

“You haven’t told him?” Leonie’s oldest son wasn’t exactly the black sheep of the family, but he was a stray one, having left home at eighteen. Seeing how close Leonie was to her other sons, Maddie found it puzzling that her landlady’s relationship with her firstborn was strained.

“It really hasn’t come up. When we do talk on the phone, there are always so many other things to catch up on.”

“You’re not worried that he won’t approve, are you?”

“What’s there not to approve?” she said, spreading her hands in the air.

“I like that attitude,” Maddie said with a grin. “I was only fourteen the last time I saw Dylan, but if I remember correctly, he was a pretty smart guy. I think he can deal with the fact that his mother’s a successful businesswoman.”

“I’m going to find out. He needs to have surgery on his rotator cuff and has decided to have it done by an orthopedic specialist here at the university hospital.”

“He’s coming back to Minnesota?”

“Mmm-hmm. Next week.” Leonie went on to explain how he’d injured his shoulder while working as an engineer for an overseas construction company. “Garret offered to have him stay at his place, but you know the crazy hours he keeps as a resident. I told Dylan he had to come here, that we have plenty of room.” She fixed Maddie with an inquisitive look. “His being here won’t make you uncomfortable, will it?”

“No, not at all.”

“Good. I know I’ve only had women living here since you moved in, but I figured there’s never been a problem when Jason’s come home so there shouldn’t be one when Dylan is here, either.”

Jason, Leonie’s youngest son, was a sophomore in college. Maddie could have pointed out that having a nineteen-year-old drift in and out was not quite the same as having a thirty-one-year-old man around, but she simply said, “Of course there won’t be a problem. This is a big house and since you’ve remodeled the upstairs and put in the private entrance, it’s more like separate apartments.”

Leonie nodded in agreement. “I know, but I like it when you and Krystal share my house with me. I enjoy our girl time and I don’t want you to feel as if you can’t come downstairs because there’s a man in the house.”

“That won’t change anything,” Maddie assured her.

Leonie smiled. “Good. I’ve called the plumber to see if he can get the bathroom upstairs finished before Dylan arrives.” She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, then glanced at the clock. “No wonder I’m tired. Look at the time. As much as I’d like to sample that fudge tonight, I’m afraid I’m going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

Maddie nodded and wished her a goodnight’s sleep. As she finished cleaning up the kitchen she thought about what Leonie had told her. In a week there would be a man in the house.

Not just any man, but Dylan Donovan. Memories of a tall, thin boy with brown eyes flashed in her mind.

She’d come to stay with the Donovans for the summer so that she could enroll in a dance program here. For Maddie it had been a dream come true. A chance to leave her small town in North Dakota for the big city and to take a class at one of the top ballet schools in the Midwest.

The only down side had been that she had to spend a summer living with a family of four boys. She’d grown up in a house of women, and the thought of being around boys twenty-four hours a day had made her uncertain and shy.

Especially seventeen-year-old Dylan. Not only was he city smart, he was the cutest guy she’d ever set eyes on and that summer she’d spent nearly every hour she was awake fantasizing about what it would be like to be his girlfriend. Convinced she’d die of humiliation should anyone discover how she felt about him, she’d worked very hard to pretend she didn’t like him at all.

Not that she had needed to worry. Dylan had no reason to notice a fourteen-year-old with braces and a shape not much different than that of his twelve-year-old brother Garret.

Unfortunately, it was Garret who had discovered how Maddie felt about his oldest brother. If she hadn’t beaten him at chess, she was certain he would have told Dylan that she fancied herself in love with him.

Maddie sighed, thinking how silly those adolescent crushes were. Dramatic but silly. She finished beating the fudge until it was thick and creamy, spread it into the pan, then took great pleasure in eating a huge chunk.

Dylan’s presence in the house would not create any awkwardness other than to cut in on what Leonie called their “girl time.” As Maddie washed down the fudge with a glass of milk, she said, “Nothing like chocolate to put your world in order,” then went to bed.

THE MAN SITTING NEXT TO DYLAN nudged him. “Did you hear that? It’s two above with a windchill of seventeen below. And to think people actually like living here,” the stranger said with a shake of his head as the plane taxied to the gate at the Twin Cities airport.

“Some people like the cold,” Dylan noted.

The stranger made a sound of disgust. “Me…I like warm, tropical breezes and white sand beaches.”

“Then you’ve come to the wrong place,” a flight attendant said with a teasing grin as she handed the man his suit coat.

Dylan hoped he wasn’t in the wrong place. When his brother had suggested he come home to have the surgery on his shoulder, his first instinct had been to say no. There were good doctors in Miami, which would have been a lot closer than Minnesota to Saint Martin.

Unfortunately, Miami was also where Andrea lived. Dylan knew that had he chosen to get medical treatment there, the flight attendant would have assumed he’d had a change of heart about their relationship. He hadn’t.

That’s why he’d allowed Garret to convince him to have the surgery on his shoulder at home. Now, as the plane taxied closer to the gate, Dylan wondered if he would have been better off going with his first instinct.

Saint Paul wasn’t his home anymore. In the past thirteen years he’d seldom visited, and when he had come to see his family, he’d never stayed more than a few days. Now he was planning to spend six weeks in the snow and cold.

Again he had the uneasy feeling he’d made a mistake. Memories of the last time he was home flashed in his mind. There’d been arguments over things that now seemed unimportant. What was the best way to memorialize his father? Who should be in charge of what arrangements?

Accusations had been made, insults had been hurled. Not the kind of scene anyone wanted or needed when grieving.

As the oldest son, Dylan had wanted to make those few days of mourning easier for his mother. Instead he’d only made them more difficult. Now as he grabbed his carry-on bag from the overhead compartment, he realized she was the true reason he’d come back to Saint Paul to have the surgery.

Although Garret had emphasized the reputation of the medical staff available to him at the hospital, Dylan knew there had been an unspoken message in that phone call. Coming home would be an opportunity for him to put right what had gone wrong two years ago. This trip wouldn’t be to simply mend his shoulder, but to try to fix his relationship with his family, as well. They both knew it and Dylan suspected that his mother did, too.

As he walked out of the jetway into the airport terminal, he searched for her face in the crowd gathered at the gate.

“Dylan! Over here!”

At the sound of the man’s voice, he turned and saw his brother Shane standing off to one side of the arrival gate. If there was one person Dylan hadn’t expected to see at the airport it was Shane, not after the sharp words they’d exchanged the last time they’d been together.

Dylan knew that the grief over their father’s death and the stress of the funeral were partly to blame for the tension that had existed between them after their father’s death. He also knew that not all of the blame could be assigned to the difficult circumstances.

Of the four brothers, Dylan and Shane had always had the most tumultuous relationship. Being only eleven months apart, they’d been extremely competitive and had often found themselves at odds with each other. Whatever Dylan had done well, Shane had always wanted to do better.

It was a rivalry their mother had done her best to discourage, often telling the two boys they were supposed to support, not fight, each other. She was the peacemaker of the family, forever assuring them that one day they would be the best of friends.

Their father, though, hadn’t seen anything wrong with their relationship. He believed it was healthy for the two of them to challenge each other.

Dylan wondered if that wasn’t the reason Shane had reacted the way he had at the time of his father’s death. When Dylan had tried to make decisions on behalf of the family, Shane had challenged his right to assume that responsibility. The friendship their mother had promised they’d have was nowhere to be found. He’d wondered then if she’d been wrong. Maybe they would never be friends.

When his brother greeted him with a smile, he had reason to hope they could.

“Welcome home, Dylan. How’s the shoulder?” Shane asked, sounding more like the kid who had played catch with him in the backyard than the man who’d confronted him in anger at their father’s funeral.

“Garret tells me it’ll be fine in a few weeks. It’s good to see you, Shane,” he said, realizing that it was the truth. He had missed his brother.

“You look good. Your hair’s lighter,” Shane noted.

Automatically Dylan ran a hand through his hair. “That’s from working in the sun. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought Mom was picking me up.”

“She wanted to, but when your flight was delayed I offered to come so she wouldn’t have to miss her class.” Before Dylan could ask him what class, Shane looked to his right and said, “Mickey. Come say hello to your uncle.”

It was then that Dylan realized that his brother wasn’t alone. Standing only a few feet away, watching the airplanes taxi across the runway, was a small boy who looked like a miniature Shane. At the sound of his father’s voice, he came running toward them.

“Remember Mickey?” Shane asked Dylan as the boy barreled into his legs.

“That’s the baby?” Dylan stared at him in astonishment.

“I’m not a baby. I’m four,” Mickey declared, holding up four fingers.

“Mickey, say hello to your uncle,” Shane ordered.

“Hi, Uncle Dylan.”

Dylan stooped so that he was eye level with his nephew. “Hey, Mickey. How’s it going? Can you give me five?” He held out his hand and the four-year-old smacked it in delight.

“We saw your plane come down. It went really fast.” His eyes widened at the memory. He glanced toward the window and said, “Look! There goes another one!”

Dylan watched him scramble over to press his face against the glass. “I can’t get over how much he’s changed.”

“Yeah, well, kids grow up fast and it has been over two years since you were home,” his brother reminded him, in a tone that held more than a hint of admonishment.

Dylan fought the temptation to defend himself, knowing it would only add tension to their conversation. He said simply, “He’s a good-looking kid.”

Shane nodded, then extended his hand toward his son. “Come on, Mickey. We need to get Uncle Dylan’s luggage. Do you have your mittens?”

“They’re in my pockets.”

Shane looked at Dylan’s short-sleeved shirt. “I don’t suppose you own any winter clothes.”

“It seldom goes below seventy-two in Saint Martin,” he said with a half smile.

“You can probably buy a parka in one of the shops here at the airport. They’ve practically made this place into a shopping mall.”

Dylan gave his brother’s shoulder a playful punch. “You’re dealing with an ex Boy Scout. Remember our motto? Be Prepared.” He grinned. “I have a leather jacket in one of my suitcases.”

“Then we better go.” He looked down at Mickey. “Take my hand so you don’t get lost,” he instructed as they merged into the crush of people heading toward the baggage claim area.

The four-year-old not only grabbed on to his father, but Dylan as well. His tiny hand felt soft against Dylan’s palm. As they walked through the crowded concourse, Dylan thought about how familiar yet how strange he felt walking alongside Shane and Mickey. Looking at his brother, he felt that thirteen years hadn’t passed, yet all he had to do was look at his nephew to realize how much everything had changed.

Feeling the need to make small talk, Dylan asked, “How have things been going for you?”

“Not bad,” Shane responded.

“How’s Jennifer?”

“She’s good. You’ll see for yourself. She’s at the house with the rest of the women. Maddie’s doing her thing.”

Maddie. There was that name again. Whenever Dylan had spoken to his mother in the past two years, that name had crept into the conversation. Even Garret had mentioned her when he’d called.

He had to ask, “Who’s Maddie? One of the college students living with Mom?”

“She lives with Mom but she’s not in college. You’ve met her…Maddie Lamont. She came and stayed with us one summer. Long hair pulled back in one of those big clips, glasses, real skinny.”

“Are you talking about that scrawny little Madeline from North Dakota? The one who was always dancing even when there wasn’t any music playing?”