Valentine's Love #1
Ty O’Malley loves Spoilt for Choice, his gift shop. He enjoys nothing more than helping his customers find the perfect present. The only exception is Valentine’s Day. Ever since his partner left him, three years previously, Ty hasn’t been able to enjoy the love-themed holiday, and goes out of his way to avoid dealing with it. This year will be no different — until his assistant interferes.
When Ben Cronin walks into his premises, looking for presents for a man he doesn’t know but has been admiring from afar, Ty can’t deny Ben is everything he would look for in a man — if he happened to be looking, which he isn’t. Besides, Ben has obviously set his sights on someone else.
As Ty instructs Ben in the art of finding the perfect gift, the two men grow closer. But there are only four weeks until Valentine’s Day. After February fourteenth, Ty will probably never see Ben again … Or will he?
Original Review February 2019:
How can anyone not love Ty O'Malley? I certainly understand his less than favorable feelings toward the whole Valentine's Day concept but one never knows what is around the corner. As for his shop, Spoilt for Choice, what I wouldn't give to have something similar in my town. As for Ben Cronin who comes looking for the perfect Valentine gift for a secret crush, his need for that perfect gift is exactly what Ty needs to realize the holiday doesn't have to be all about the heartache he lived three years prior when his partner left him. Valentine's Love is a beautifully written short novella with incredibly fun and heartwarming characters that are not rushed despite the shortness of pages and brief time period the story is set in. How I missed this little holiday gem from Helena Stone last year is beyond me but I'm glad I discovered it now.
RATING:
Author Bio:
Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.
The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.
Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.
When Ben Cronin walks into his premises, looking for presents for a man he doesn’t know but has been admiring from afar, Ty can’t deny Ben is everything he would look for in a man — if he happened to be looking, which he isn’t. Besides, Ben has obviously set his sights on someone else.
As Ty instructs Ben in the art of finding the perfect gift, the two men grow closer. But there are only four weeks until Valentine’s Day. After February fourteenth, Ty will probably never see Ben again … Or will he?
How can anyone not love Ty O'Malley? I certainly understand his less than favorable feelings toward the whole Valentine's Day concept but one never knows what is around the corner. As for his shop, Spoilt for Choice, what I wouldn't give to have something similar in my town. As for Ben Cronin who comes looking for the perfect Valentine gift for a secret crush, his need for that perfect gift is exactly what Ty needs to realize the holiday doesn't have to be all about the heartache he lived three years prior when his partner left him. Valentine's Love is a beautifully written short novella with incredibly fun and heartwarming characters that are not rushed despite the shortness of pages and brief time period the story is set in. How I missed this little holiday gem from Helena Stone last year is beyond me but I'm glad I discovered it now.
And so it begins … again.
I’d reached my destination and took a moment to take in the changes in the shop window. Nothing in it resembled the winter wonderland that had been showcased there when I’d left on December thirty-first. The only thing that remained unchanged was the name of my shop, written in gold lettering on the glass: Spoilt for Choice.
I caught sight of my reflection and puffed out a frustrated breath. Whereas the display greeting me was unique, inviting, and memorable, I could only be described as average—average height, average looks, an average Joe if ever I’d seen one. I shook the thought off; that day and the subsequent month would be hard enough without me thinking myself into a bad mood. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.
“Welcome back, boss.” My assistant manager grinned at me when I walked in for the first time in two weeks.
“Good morning, Claire.” I came to a standstill and allowed my eyes to roam around the familiar and much loved shop floor. “I see you have everything under control, as always.”
Her grin turned into a smile with more than a touch of relief in it. It was funny how, after working for me for three years, this usually sassy young woman still felt insecure about her talents when it came to decorating the shop with seasonal merchandise.
“You approve then?”
I raised my eyebrows. “When have I ever disliked your ideas?”
She shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything. Besides …”
I waited, wondering whether she’d have the courage to finish that sentence. Not that she needed to say the words. She’d been working for me for long enough to know me and my likes and dislikes. And dislike wasn’t quite a strong enough word when it came to the upcoming annual love-fest known as St. Valentine’s Day.
The moment she averted her gaze, I knew she wasn’t going to say what was so clearly on the tip of her tongue.
“I have the coffee made,” she said instead. “Shall I get you a cup?” She turned and walked toward the tiny kitchen in the far corner of the premises, almost before I had the opportunity to nod.
I sighed, annoyed with myself. My staff shouldn’t feel the need to tiptoe their way around me for the next four weeks, but obviously, that was exactly how it was going to be. Making my way to the center of the shop, I took in the sea of scarlet assaulting my senses and my heart.
I loved my shop. I first started dreaming about owning a gift shop when I was about fourteen years old. When I found myself in a position to open one, fifteen years later, it had almost felt too good to be true. Even if my partner at the time had viewed the whole project with skepticism, to put it mildly.
I mentally shook myself and inhaled deeply, hoping against hope to loosen the sudden tightness in my chest. A lot had changed since the day I’d officially opened the store six years earlier.
“Here you go.” Claire had managed to sneak up on me while I’d been lost in my gloomy thoughts and held out a large, Christmas-themed mug filled to the brim with black coffee, or, as I liked to think of it, my chosen elixir.
“Thank you.” I took a sip before continuing. “You really did very well here. The place looks wonderful … festive. That last word burned on my tongue. For reasons I didn’t want to go into, not even in the privacy of my own thoughts, “festive” was the last word I associated with Valentine’s Day.
A huge grin erupted on Claire’s face. “I’m so glad you like it. Valentine’s Day is my favorite when it comes to decorating the shop.” She studied me for a moment before adding, “Well, in general really.”
I forced myself to smile at her. After all, it wasn’t her fault I detested February 14th. In fact, up until three years earlier, I had been as big a fan, if not bigger, of the annual celebration of love as she was. If it hadn’t been for …
“I know,” I said, forcing my thoughts away from the treacherous path they were threatening to follow. “And it shows. You’ve managed to showcase your love for love in these displays.”
I wasn’t exaggerating or trying to make her feel good either; the place really did look wonderful … if you happened to be into declarations of undying devotion and the color red. Huge heart-shaped balloons, vases filled with silk roses and tulips, prominent displays of jewelry, and teddy bears of various sizes, to name but a few items, occupied every inch of floor and shelf space. My heart stuttered as soon as my gaze came to rest on those bears. After three years, I could deal with the rest of it, but I didn’t expect to ever reach the point where I could look at those stuffed creatures without remembering what I had lost. To distract myself, I focused on the table featuring jokey gifts, but the humor in the display wasn’t working its magic.
Claire, always the perceptive one, said nothing as she reached out and gently squeezed my upper arm before turning away and walking to the front of the shop to open the door.
Get a grip, you eejit. The voice screamed in my head. I had to pull myself together and stop acting like a teenager trying to get over his first case of puppy love. I almost laughed out loud when I realized I’d followed the exact same line of thought twelve months previously.
Determined not to allow myself to drown in melancholic thoughts, I walked to the back of the shop. The premises I owned weren’t big enough to hold a separate office, but I had created a small space for myself behind two large, floor-to-ceiling display cases. I settled behind the tiny desk, placed my almost empty mug in front of me, and turned on the computer. If I couldn’t keep my thoughts and feelings under control while on the shop floor, I’d occupy myself by examining the figures showcasing how the business had performed over the two weeks I had been away on leave. I fully trusted Claire to have run the place efficiently, but it was my livelihood, and it made sense to make sure I was up to speed on all details.
I barely noticed when, a good stretch of time later, Claire picked up my, by then empty, cup and replaced it with a full one moments later. By the time it occurred to me to thank her, she’d disappeared from view again, and I could hear her talking to a customer. I picked up the drink and listened to the exchange for a moment.
“No.” Claire sounded emphatic and kind at the same time. “I don’t think you’re too early at all. I like to make my purchases early while there’s still a lot of choice. The closer we get to February 14th, the more predictable and boring the remaining gifts appear to get, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.”
Whoever Claire was talking to had a deep and melodious voice, one that captured my attention, almost against my will. Curiosity got the better of me, and I abandoned my figures, walked to the gap between the two sets of shelves, and snuck a look, instinctively taking a small step back when I noticed how close to me they were. Near enough for me to touch the big man’s shoulders without having to do more than raise my arm, should I have wanted to. My assistant was all but invisible, her small posture completely blocked from my view by the broad build of the customer standing with his back to me.
“So,” Claire asked. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he said, his voice betraying both humor and a slight note of uncertainty. “I don’t actually know the person I intend to surprise this Valentine’s Day.
“Oh!” Claire’s exclamation held so much excitement I imagined her bouncing on her toes while she spoke. “A secret admirer; I love it. It sure doesn’t get more romantic than that.”
Mystery man—how the hell did I end up thinking about him in those terms?—laughed, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, something like that. And, since I’ve never done anything like this before, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
“Tell me something about the person you’re buying for.”
That was one of the reasons Claire was the perfect employee, as far as I was concerned. She never assumed anything about our customers or who they wanted to surprise with a present.
“Well,” the man responded. “He’s male and probably more or less my age, although I’m not entirely sure about that last part.”
“In that case, I shouldn’t be serving you.”
Claire’s remark shocked me to the core. Was she refusing to help a customer because he was looking for a present for another man? It didn’t make sense. I’d told her I was gay before I actually started her formal interview back when she applied to work for me. She’d told me in no uncertain terms that she didn’t care what I was, and her behavior since had always confirmed that statement. From the way the man’s shoulder blades appeared to pull closer together, I surmised he wasn’t impressed with her response either.
“Let me get my boss.” Claire still sounded friendly and unconcerned, as if completely unaware of the unease she’d just caused. “I’m sure he’s far more qualified to advise you than I am.”
A moment later, she appeared on the left of the customer, who still faced away from me. The moment she caught my eye, a blush erupted on her face, but her smile didn’t fade, and I didn’t think it had been her choice of words that had caused the redness on her cheeks.
“Ty, there you are.”
Much to my amazement, she didn’t appear to be ashamed so much as surprised to find me standing there. Had she really no idea how insulting the implication of what she’d just said had been, both toward me and, far more importantly, toward the customer?
I glared at her, smoothing my features out again as I noticed the man in question turning to face me.
For a heartbeat or two, I forgot to breathe as I took in his face and body. If I’d still allowed myself to harbor an image of my ideal partner, he would have been it. I’d already established he was tall and broad just from looking at his back. The frontal view turned what had looked good into perfection. He was a bear, if ever I saw one. His short brown hair looked soft and framed a round and friendly face. His small but full beard didn’t quite succeed in hiding his generous and very kissable lips.
What the fuck? I tried to remember the last time looking at a man had generated such thoughts. Actually, I could. But those were times and a man I’d forbidden myself to think about three years earlier.
“Allow me to apologize for my assistant’s inexplicable behavior,” I said, not even sorry to drop Claire in it. “How can I help you?” I gave him my full attention but not before I noticed Claire flinching as my words registered.
“No apology needed.” The man gave me a charming smile, which did nothing to reassure me; far from it in fact. “As I said to this very helpful young lady, I’m looking for one or more presents for a man I’ve been admiring from afar for a few months now, and I’m not quite sure what to get.” His smile stretched wider, turning into a grin. “Until this year, I couldn’t be bothered with Valentine’s Day, so it’s all new to me.”
Ignoring Claire, I stepped closer to him and steered him toward a display table filled with gifts aimed at male recipients. “Have you any idea what this man might be into?” I asked.
He thought for a moment, giving me the opportunity to notice that his body was as appealing as his face and back had been. It was hard to tell since he was wearing both a shirt and a sweater under his jacket, but I imagined his body would be mainly muscles with little to no excess fat. I allowed myself to enjoy the fact that I had to tilt my head back a bit when I wanted to make eye contact before giving myself a virtual kick up the backside. For three long years, I hadn’t been able to muster even an ounce of interest in men, regardless of what they looked like. Being attracted to a customer, especially one who had obviously already fallen for another man, was as useless as it was inexplicable.
Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.
The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.
Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.
EMAIL: helenastoneauthor@gmail.com
