A Shocking Request

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A Shocking Request
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“So your kind of man doesn’t have to leap from burning cars, tunnel under mountains or drive motorcycles off cliffs?”

“Nah, I prefer a man who is a little more…subtle about his masculinity.” Jenna smiled up at Grant. It had been a long time since she had flirted with someone.

“My kind of hero can make dinner, sweep the floor and help children do homework, all at the same time,” she said.

Grant halted on the sidewalk and turned to face her. “Well then, hey.” He lifted his hands, palms up. “I can do all of that and then some.”

“I know you can.” She glanced at him, suddenly feeling shy. “I’m sorry, Grant,” she said, avoiding his smoldering gaze. “I didn’t mean to—”

To her surprise, he caught both of her hands and gently pulled her toward him, their bodies almost touching.

“Jenna,” he whispered, as he completed the motion and drew her into full contact against his warm, strong chest. “I want to kiss you….”

Dear Reader,

Brr…February’s below-freezing temperatures call for a mug of hot chocolate, a fuzzy afghan and a heartwarming book from Silhouette Romance. Our books will heat you to the tips of your toes with the sizzling sexual tension that courses between our stubborn heroes and the determined heroines who ultimately melt their hardened hearts.

In Judy Christenberry’s Least Likely To Wed, her sinfully sexy cowboy hero has his plans for lifelong bachelorhood foiled by the searing kisses of a spirited single mom. While in Sue Swift’s The Ranger & the Rescue, an amnesiac cowboy stakes a claim on the heart of a flame-haired heroine—but will the fires of passion still burn when he regains his memory?

Tensions reach the boiling point in Raye Morgan’s She’s Having My Baby!—the final installment of the miniseries HAVING THE BOSS’S BABY—when our heroine discovers just who fathered her baby-to-be…. And tempers flare in Rebecca Russell’s Right Where He Belongs, in which our handsome hero must choose between his cold plan for revenge and a woman’s warm and tender love.

Then simmer down with the incredibly romantic heroes in Teresa Southwick’s What If We Fall In Love? and Colleen Faulkner’s A Shocking Request. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll fall in love all over again with these deeply touching stories about widowers who get a second chance at love.

So this February, come in from the cold and warm your heart and spirit with one of these temperature-raising books from Silhouette Romance. Don’t forget the marshmallows!

Happy reading!


Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

A Shocking Request
Colleen Faulkner


www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Donna Clayton.

Thanks for being so willing to slide over on the bench.

You’re a true friend.

COLLEEN FAULKNER

had romance writing encrypted in her genetic code. Her mother, Judith E. French, is also a bestselling historical romance author. Whether through genes or simply karma, Colleen began her writing career early. She published her first historical romance at the tender age of twenty-four. Since then she has sold twenty-three historical romance novels, five contemporary romances and six novellas.

Colleen resides in southern Delaware with her husband of twenty years, the couple’s four children, a Bernese mountain dog named Duncan and a Siamese cat named Xena. When she’s not writing, Colleen enjoys playing racquetball and volleyball, coaching girls’ softball and coed soccer and, of course, reading.

Dear Reader,

I can’t tell you how excited I am to be publishing my first Silhouette Romance novel. In the last fifteen years, I’ve written two dozen historical romances, so writing a modern-day love story was quite a challenge. In writing A Shocking Request, if there’s one thing I learned, it’s that romance and love are the same no matter where in time they take place.

A Shocking Request came about when a group of friends and I were talking over coffee about our families and what we would do if we discovered we were dying. All of us realized we would be concerned not just for our children, but for our husbands, too. We all agreed that, out of love, we would want to give our spouses permission to date, fall in love and marry again. Laughing, we agreed we would like to pick out the perfect woman to mother our children and love the man we loved. Some may think that A Shocking Request is a sad story, but it’s not. It’s a story of joy. It’s the story of a man and woman who find love after great loss and proves to us once again that love really can conquer all.


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 Thirteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Happy anniversary, Happy anniversary, Happy anniversary…Happy…Happy…Happy,” Grant sang aloud to himself. He had no idea when he had heard the tune, but knew it was from a Flintstones cartoon. He tapped his foot as he waited for the noodles to boil and when they were done, he drained them in the sink. A little milk, a little margarine, that yellow packet of powder that was supposed to be cheese, and voilà, he had an anniversary dinner fit for a…

Fit for a widower on his wedding anniversary, he thought as he dumped the entire pot of macaroni and cheese into a big chili bowl. He grabbed a spoon and the glass of Chardonnay he had poured himself and carried it into the den, shutting off the lights behind him. In the dark, Grant set down his feast and picked up the videotape he had left on his chair.

“Watch two years after I’ve been gone,” it read in his wife’s neat, floral handwriting. Ally had made a whole box of these tapes, “just in case.” Most of them were for their daughters. Each tape was labeled with the child’s name and the occasion for which she was to watch it. The next tape in the box was for Hannah’s sixteenth birthday, which was four months away.

It was another two weeks until the anniversary of Ally’s death, but Grant thought it would be okay if he watched a little early. It was their wedding anniversary today, and he thought he deserved it. He popped the tape into the VCR and turned on the TV.

Grant sat in his favorite chair, the one Ally had reupholstered for him in green-and-blue plaid for Father’s Day three years ago. He hit Play on the remote and sat back to watch the TV in the darkness as he ate his mac and cheese and drank his wine.

The screen filled with light and Grant couldn’t resist a bittersweet smile. He had come to terms with his wife’s death, but seeing her like this still made him sad…and happy at the same time.

There she was, his Ally, sitting right here in this very chair. Her knees were drawn up and she was barefoot, wearing shorts and a tee. She wore a ball cap to cover her baldness from the chemo, but she looked great. She didn’t look like a woman who was dying of breast cancer that had metastasized throughout her body.

“Hi ya, Grant,” she said smiling.

“Hi ya,” he whispered setting the bowl of macaroni and cheese down. He couldn’t resist smiling back.

“Well, I guess if you’re watching this tape, I’ve been gone two years.” She met his gaze, and he could almost feel her in the room. “Because I know you,” she said wagging her finger at him. “And you would never cheat. You would never break the seal on this tape until you were supposed to.”

 

“That’s what you think,” he said under his breath. “Two weeks early, so there.” He felt a silly impulse to stick his tongue out at her.

“Anyway,” she said, almost as if she was conversing with him, hearing him reply. “I hope you’re doing okay. I hope the girls are happy, healthy.”

“They’re fine,” he said softly, unable to take his gaze off her. She had been so beautiful, his Ally, with her blond hair, practical short pixie haircut and hazel eyes. After the cancer and the mastectomies, she had worried that he would no longer think she was beautiful, but that hadn’t been true. He had loved her, loved her body, right until the moment she drew her last breath. Even now…

“The reason I made this tape is that I’ve been worrying about you, Grant,” she continued. “I don’t mean that I’m worried about whether or not you’re taking care of the girls. I know how capable you are. You’ve got the laundry done.” She began to count off on her fingers.

“Folded and placed in baskets labeled with each girl’s name,” he murmured.

“You’ve probably got homemade meals in the freezer, labeled and everything.” Ally laughed.

He laughed, too. Ally knew him so well. Last night they had eaten spaghetti and meatballs. The sauce had come from the freezer in a disposable container with the date labeled in permanent marker.

“You’ve probably got the garage cleaned out, the rugs vacuumed. The girls’ rooms are probably neater than a pin—even Hannah’s—and I know what an accomplishment that is.”

Grant slid up in his chair drawing closer to the TV, as if somehow he could be closer to Ally. He missed her so much.

“And I know you still drop off the dry cleaning every Monday and pick it up on Wednesday on the way home from Becka’s violin practice.”

“Thursday,” he said. “Mrs. Jargo had to change the lesson to Thursdays because she has her hair done on Wednesdays now.”

“And I know the girls’ homework is done on time, birthday gifts for parties are bought and wrapped and ready to go on the right day. I even know you probably got Jenna to make Halloween costumes.” Again, that warm smile, that smile that seemed to envelop him like one of her hugs. He felt a tightness in his chest. He missed her hugs.

“But…” she continued as she pointed at him, “that’s not what I’ve been worried about. I’ve been worried that you aren’t taking care of yourself. Sure, I know, you get your hair cut every three weeks, your teeth cleaned every six months and you always iron your shirts on Sunday nights while you have family movie night. But what about you, sweetie? You’ve got to be lonely.” She paused. “And I know you don’t know what to do about it.”

Grant held his breath, wondering where she was going with this.

“So I have a plan,” Ally said, perking up. “And I know you’ll go for it because I know how much you like plans. How much you need plans.”

Grant shifted in his chair. A plan? She had a plan for what?

“The reason I didn’t tell you this before…when I was still here, was because I knew you wouldn’t listen to me. You wouldn’t be able to deal with it. But now time has passed, sweetie. I’ve been gone two years and it’s time for you to move on with your life. You deserve to be happy.”

Grant didn’t like the sound of this. A part of him wanted to hit Rewind on the remote and just watch the beginning of the tape again. But he couldn’t help himself. He had to hear what Ally had to say now.

“I think it’s time you start dating,” she said looking him right in the eyes.

He jerked back in the chair.

She put up one hand. “I know, I know. You can never love anyone like you loved me. You don’t want anyone else. Don’t need anyone else. Well, I’ve got news for you, Grant. We all need someone. And if the roles were reversed right now, if I was sitting in that plaid chair listening to you say these words, I might not like it.” She paused. “But I would know you were right.”

Grant just sat there, staring at the screen. Never in a million years had he expected this.

Ally wanted him to date other women? He couldn’t believe she was saying these things, couldn’t believe she would leave a tape to tell him this. But that was his Ally, all right. She was a planner just like him.

“Now,” she continued. “I know this is going to be hard. Hard for you, hard for the girls. But give it a chance.”

“Date?” Grant mumbled. “Who would I date? Who wants a man who lives on a principal’s salary with three girls?”

“I know, I know,” she said almost simultaneously with his thought. “Who would date you, a teacher with three girls?”

“A principal,” he told Ally proudly. “I got the principal’s job last year when George moved to Maine.”

“So…” Ally said carefully. “I’ve thought this out. I know you’re going to sit around for weeks saying no one would date you. Saying you wouldn’t know who to ask if you wanted to go on a date. I’ve got that planned out, too.”

She stretched out her thin legs, and leaned forward in the chair. “Jenna,” she said softly. “I want you to date Jenna. And, Grant, I think you’ll fall in love with her.” This time it was Ally’s smile that was bittersweet. “I think you’ll fall in love with her and marry her. I want you to marry her.”

Grant grabbed the remote control, certain he had not heard right. Jenna? Ally’s best friend, Jenna? Ally wanted him to go out with Jenna? Had she really said marry?

He fumbled with the remote. Hit Pause, cursed under his breath because he never cursed aloud, and then finally found Rewind. He rewound the tape a little.

“Jenna,” she said again. “I want you to date Jenna—”

He had heard correctly.

“…I think you’ll fall in love with her and marry her. I want you to marry her.”

Grant started to hit Rewind again when he heard the back door open. He glanced up at the clock on the built-in bookshelves beside the TV. It was eight o’clock. Almost bedtime for the girls.

He heard five-year-old Maddy’s sweet little voice, and he clicked the VCR off, then the power to the TV.

“Dad? Dad you here?” came his eleven-year-old Becka’s voice.

He could hear light switches clicking on. Light from the kitchen suddenly poured into the hallway, reaching the den.

Grant got to his feet, torn between what Ally had said on the tape and his daughter’s voice. “Here. I’m in here.” He gripped the molding around the doorway as he stepped into the hall.

“Daddy!” Maddy ran into his arms. “Jenna got me another roll of gauze. You know I need gauze to wraps legs and stuff.”

Grant gave pigtailed Maddy a big hug. She smelled of chocolate syrup and baby shampoo. He still used it on her hair because it didn’t sting her eyes. Maddy wanted to be a vet when she grew up and she was always caring for patients, animate and inanimate. Every stuffed animal in the house had yards of gauze, tape, even toilet paper, wrapped around arms, legs and heads. His oldest daughter, Hannah, said it freaked her out to go into Maddy and Becka’s room at night and see all of the animal mummies.

“Hey, Dad, Jenna found me some knee socks to match my uniform,” Becka said, dropping a department store bag on the kitchen table.

“Hey ya, Dad.” Hannah walked into the kitchen through the back door.

Last in the door was Jenna. Grant had seen Jenna a thousand times, maybe a million. They had been friends since their freshman year of college. Jenna had introduced Ally to him at a football tailgate party. But suddenly he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Jenna was nothing like petite, blond Ally. Jenna was tall with long red hair that Ally had always said was strawberry blond. She wasn’t heavy, but she wasn’t thin either. Curvy, that was a good word. Jenna was curvy with hips and breasts. Ally had always had a very athletic build, even after bearing and breastfeeding three children.

Jenna’s eyes were green. Green with brown speckles. Her face was freckled and her mouth was…well it was sensuous, full pink lips, a tongue that darted when she spoke fast. And it seemed that Jenna was always talking fast.

“Hi,” she called from the doorway, carrying in more bags. “Sorry we didn’t get in sooner, but Becka needed the socks, Maddy wanted the four-inch gauze, not the two-inch, so we had to go to three drugstores and—”

“It was my fault, Dad.” Hannah walked past him, giving him a peck on the cheek as she went by. “I wanted that new Chili Peppers CD and Jenna ran me all over town looking for it.” She stopped in the hallway. “I’m going up to finish my homework. ’Night, Dad. ’Night, Jenna, thanks.”

Becka rummaged through the bags Jenna was laying on the table, grabbed two, heaved her backpack onto her shoulder again, and walked by him. “Homework’s done, ’night, Dad. ’Night, Jenna. Thanks for the cool stuff.” She waited in the kitchen doorway. “Come on, Maddy. It’s jammy time if you want Daddy to read the next chapter of Harry Potter.”

“Harry Potter,” Maddy said, a bandaged moose tucked under her armpit. “I love Harry. I’m going to marry him.”

“You can’t marry him,” Becka said leading her sister down the hall. “It’s like Dad. You can’t marry your father, and you can’t marry a make-believe person in a make-believe book.”

Grant lifted his gaze to look at Jenna as he realized they were the only two left in the room. She was opening the refrigerator. “I stopped and got milk because Hannah thought you were low.” She slid the gallon of skim milk onto a shelf and closed the door. She was wearing a dark purple raincoat over a sweater, long, flowered skirt and boots. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, but little wisps had escaped the rubber band to curl around her face. For some reason, those curly wisps suddenly fascinated him.

Jenna met Grant’s gaze. “You okay?” she said softly.

He glanced at the floor feeling silly. “I’m okay.”

“You sure, because I know…” She took a breath and then went on. “I know it’s your anniversary. That was why I thought tonight might be a good night to get this shopping over with.” She started for the door.

He walked toward the door to see her out, Ally’s words tumbling in his head.

Date Jenna? Ally wanted him to date Jenna. She wanted him to marry her.

She opened the door. “Well, if you don’t need anything else, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No.”

She looked at him.

He shook his head. “I mean, no, I don’t need anything else. Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered a sheepish smile, having no clue what he was thinking or why he felt such confusion.

“’Night,” Jenna said.

“Good night,” he called.

Grant locked the back door, flipped off the lights again, and went upstairs to tuck his two youngest girls into bed. He read the next chapter of the fourth book in the Harry Potter series and then kissed his girls good-night. As he passed Hannah’s closed door, he called, “Good night.”

“’Night, Dad.”

Downstairs, Grant went to the dark den again. Light from the hallway illuminated the table beside his chair and the cold macaroni and cheese. He sat down and took a sip of the wine. He stared at the dark TV screen.

Ally wanted him to marry Jenna? The thought was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous. It was preposterous.

And then he thought of what else she had said. About him, about the way he was living.

He was lonely. He hated to admit it, but Ally was right. He was lonely and he missed his wife in a million ways, but mostly he just missed her being here. He thought that his job and his daughters would be enough to make him happy or at least content, but they weren’t. He’d known that for months now. Something was missing from his life. Someone.

Grant didn’t know how long he’d sat in the dark staring at the TV when he heard footsteps on the staircase.

“Dad?” Hannah called.

“In here.”

She stuck her head in the doorway. Hannah was pretty like her mother with silky blond hair she wore pulled back in a short ponytail and hazel eyes that sparkled when she laughed. “You sitting in the dark again?” she grumbled.

He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

“Thinking about Mom?” she said in a quieter tone. “I know. I was thinking about her today, too. It was your anniversary.”

Grant was touched that she remembered. “I miss her,” he said, realizing that he didn’t feel the same sadness he had once felt when he talked about Ally. It seemed that what people said was true. Most of the pain and sadness had passed. Now there were just a lot of memories in his head that made him smile.

 

Hannah leaned in the doorway. “Me, too.” She glanced up. “But you know, Dad, she’s been gone two years. You think maybe it’s time you stop sitting in the dark by yourself at night, pretending she’s here.”

He got up and walked into the hallway, through to the kitchen. She followed him. “I don’t pretend she’s here,” he said. “I just like the quiet.”

“Well, whatever.”

She hung in the kitchen doorway, and he wondered what was with teens and doorways. Hannah could never just walk into a room; she always had to stand in the doorway, as if she feared she might have to make a quick escape. What would he do when Becka turned thirteen? Would his two daughters share doorways or would they have to have their own?

Grant reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the gallon of milk Jenna had brought. He’d have to remember to include this in the reimbursement for all of the other things she’d gotten for the girls tonight. She’d been doing these things since before Ally’s death, when Ally had gotten too weak to take the children out. Once in a while, Jenna would just herd them all into her car and head for a mall, or a movie, or something. It was a nice break for him, and the girls loved her.

“So what I was saying, Dad…”

He poured himself a glass of milk, not sure he wanted to hear what Hannah had to say, but listening anyway. He knew parents who would give their eyeteeth for their teenaged daughters to voluntarily offer their opinions on anything. To be able to have conversations with them that didn’t involve shouting or accusations. But something told him that the direction Hannah was headed with this conversation wasn’t somewhere he was ready to go yet.

“I think you should think about dating.”

Grant knew he must have stood frozen for a moment because the glass almost overflowed with milk. He caught himself and capped the gallon container. So that was where she was headed. “Date? Me?” He laughed.

“Yes, you. Why not?” She lifted one shoulder draped in a thick sweater. “I don’t know, Dad, you’re still cute in a geeky kind of way.”

He put the milk back into the fridge with a smile. “Well, thank you.”

She exhaled. “You know what I mean. In a dad way.”

He grabbed his glass of milk and leaned against the counter. “Hannah. Look at me. I am a geeky kind of guy. I’m not rich. I’m the principal of a school, for heaven’s sake, and I’ve got three daughters to raise. Who in her right mind would want to go out with me?” He lifted his glass to take a drink.

Again, she raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know. How about Aunt Jenna?”

She said it just as he took a big swallow of milk. He choked, snorted and thought maybe he had inhaled some milk.

“Dad? You okay?”

He choked again and tried to suck in a lung full of air. “Okay…I’m fine,” he managed.

She laughed. “Careful there. Milk consumption can be a dangerous thing.”

You’re not kidding, he thought, grabbing a napkin out of the holder on the counter to wipe his mouth. He couldn’t believe Hannah had suggested he date Jenna. Was this some kind of conspiracy between her and Ally? He knew it couldn’t be and yet…

“Well, I’m headed for bed,” Hannah said interrupting his thoughts. “Geometry test tomorrow, first period.”

“You study?” he called after her as she disappeared into the hall. He was a principal now, but he had been a teacher first. Once a teacher, always a teacher.

“Yes, Dad,” she called. “’Night, Dad.”

“’Night, hon.”

Grant finished his milk, rinsed out the glass and placed it in the dishwasher. Then he poured some soap in and hit Wash as he did every night before he went to bed. He turned out the kitchen light, headed for bed, then veered into the study as he realized he had left Ally’s tape in the VCR. He wouldn’t want one of the kids to find it. He meant to retrieve the tape, but when he got into the den, he had to watch it again. And again. It ended shortly after the marrying Jenna part. Ally just said that she loved him and that she couldn’t have picked a better person to love him and their girls than Jenna.

Grant always went to bed by eleven. He brushed his teeth, folded his clothes and put on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed. But for the first time in his life, he fell asleep in front of the TV.

He fell asleep thinking of Jenna.

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