My Charming Valentine Read online

  Patrick stood next to her, his chin in his hand as if contemplating the little man. “Something’s not quite right,” he said. When she looked up at him, he grinned and snapped his fingers. “Got it!” His wife gasped and then broke out into peals of laughter after he rearranged the switches so that they were crossed across the back of the snowman’s ample backside, as if protecting his frozen assets from any heat.

  “Not a little man,” he said, giving her a grin, “She’s a little woman. Welcome to Corbin’s Bend, Texie!”

  Brushing snow from their clothing, he pulled the familiar white box from his pocket. Inside sat a small snowman charm, his small twig arms lifted as if wanting to be picked up. Patrick loved watching her face as she discovered a small cowboy hat hanging from one twig arm and a pair of mittens from the other.

  “Where on earth did you find these?” she asked as he worked the charm onto her bracelet. “I mean, I’m pretty positive you didn’t just find them anywhere. There’s an awful lot of effort put into this game. Thank you, Patrick.”

  Seeing a tear slip down her cheek, he was quick to brush it away. “No crying, your face will freeze.” Her pleasure at the game was all the warmth he needed. “I’ve been working on this for a while. You might be surprised what you can find on the internet.” When another tear slipped free, he reached out to tap the envelope. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s play.”

  At the hands of a master, a thing of beauty created – to assure a naughty girl will soon feel berated. Whether crafted of leather, plastic or wood – application to a bottom turns naughty to good.

  Her eyes were clear again, and her cheeks beautifully flushed as she looked up at him. “You are an evil man, Mr. Portman,” she said with a grin. “I’m guessing Vance is waiting to see us?”

  Vance Foster was the owner of W&C Leather and Chainmail shop. He’d also been known to visit several homes around the community and administer spankings when requested. He’d turned in his traveling paddle once he’d met Ettie Thomas, the feisty columnist who had found great joy in making sure her fellow residents were aware of the man’s nefarious activities. Vance had never showed that her cartoons and digs bothered him, and now that she was the sole recipient of his skills, the amusing and slightly acrid comments had stopped appearing.

  At Patrick’s grin, Phoebe took his hand. “At least there won’t be a penalty to pay,” she teased. “Maybe Ettie would be interested in hearing some of your clues.”

  “Only if you don’t mind me ensuring that everything receives equal coverage,” Patrick said, taking the basket. “I seem to recall there’s a hairbrush somewhere in here.”

  Snatching it back, she shook her head. “Okay, truce – besides, some stories should just remain between a couple.”

  They left the park and Patrick noticed that the temperature had been steadily dropping. “How about we stop by the house and get the truck? I really don’t want to hear Marcus lecturing me about hypothermia or frostbite.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Phoebe said, moving even closer. “I do feel a bit frozen.”

  Chapter Six

  After walking back to their house, they took time to visit the bathroom and drink a cup of coffee. Warmed inside and out, they put their outerwear back on, and Patrick helped her into the truck. He’d already attached chains to their tires, and though she didn’t like the way they sounded, she appreciated the extra safety they offered.

  Vance lived on the other side of town, and Phoebe was even more grateful her husband suggested the truck. As much as she was having the time of her life, she had truly begun to feel like Texie. Remembering how Pat had rearranged the snow lady’s arms, she giggled.

  “Ah, feeling a bit giddy about your destination?” Patrick asked, as he drove carefully through the streets.

  “Not really, just thinking about Texie.” His chuckle had her smiling yet again. God, she felt as if she’d been smiling ever since she woke up that morning. Her smile didn’t falter as he pulled up in front of Vance’s house.

  Phoebe also got a thrill when her husband lifted her from the truck. They might be in their mid-fifties, but he was still in very good condition, and since he’d started them on a regular exercise routine where they walked at least five miles a day, either outside or on their treadmill, she’d lost a few pounds herself.

  Vance opened the door, Ettie peeking out from behind him. “Welcome. I was worried the weather might keep you away.”

  “Not a chance,” Patrick said as he shook his hand. “Phoebe might have grown up in Texas but I was born and raised in Michigan. I’ve tried to convince her that we really did drive out onto the lake and do donuts but she remains unconvinced.”

  “Not unconvinced,” she protested, “just amazed that you lived past the age of eighteen. Who in the world would find that fun?”

  Ettie laughed. “Forget fun, I’m wondering why that isn’t considered a spankable offense – I mean, talk about lack of keeping yourself safe.”

  Vance and Patrick laughed and then Patrick reminded them of the purpose of their visit. “Speaking of spankable, shall we?”

  “Sure, come into my studio.” Ettie took their coats and gloves before lifting Phoebe’s wrist.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, running her fingertip along the charms and making them jingle. “When Vance told me about the scavenger hunt, I was a bit confused. But now, seeing you looking as excited as a kid and seeing these charms, I get the picture.”

  “It’s been fantastic,” Phoebe said, as they followed the men. “I can’t even begin to tell you what all his effort means to me.”

  Ettie gave her an impulsive hug. “You don’t have to tell me, one look at your face tells the story.” She paused. “Let’s hope whatever you get next doesn’t spoil the charm.”

  Phoebe felt a shiver run down her spine as she entered the room. The distinctive smell of leather assaulted her senses. The shiver turned into a quiver as memories of various toys surfaced. Her bottom might have been warmed just a short while earlier, but it was tingling as if asking how long it must wait to be heated again.

  “I’m leaving the choice to you, honey,” Patrick said, as he stepped to her side and swept his arm towards the table where several items were displayed.

  Phoebe walked to the table, taking her time as she looked at the paddles, tawses, floggers and straps that all seemed to draw her attention. The next table had paddles of all sizes and shapes, some with holes drilled through them that had her backside clenching. Those, she knew, could leave small blisters across her ass. As much as she enjoyed a spanking– unless they were truly for strictly punishment – she had no desire to sit on a butt covered in blisters. Picking up an unfamiliar object, she slapped it against her palm.

  “Ow!”

  Ettie laughed. “That’s a Lexan. It might look more fragile than wood, but I guarantee, it is almost impossible to break. It is quite flexible and if you don’t like stingy implements, I’d stay away from it.” She leaned a bit closer. “I’ve heard that those with holes are absolutely guaranteed to leave blisters and bruises.”

  “Well, that’s settled,” Phoebe said, as she carefully set it down. She made a complete circuit of the room and returned to the leather display. Her hand hovered over a small riding crop before moving to pick up a tawse. It was beautifully crafted. A comfortable wooden handle was smooth and had been varnished until it gleamed. The leather was about a dozen inches long and split down the middle to make two tongues. She’d read about the implement that was often used against a bared bottom but had yet to experience it herself. Remembering the common theme of most of those erotic stories, she turned to her husband and grinned. “Maybe one day I’ll play the part of a naughty school girl of ages past.”

  Patrick smiled and stroked his finger down the leather. “I can see you dressed in a plaid skirt, white blouse, white ankle socks and saddle shoes.” He took the tawse and slapped it against his palm, causing her to give a soft yelp as well as a little jump. “Yes, I can very easily p
icture you over my knee or bent across my desk. I’d say you’ve made an excellent choice.”

  They gazed at each other, lost in themselves until a loud crack shocked them both. “Depending on how naughty your little student is, I’d recommend a nice sturdy rod of correction as well.”

  Phoebe put her hands behind her and shook her head. “No way, I’m not that daring!”

  Patrick pulled her to him. “She might be naughty sometimes but I can’t say she’s a delinquent. We’ll just take the tawse.”

  Vance sighed and placed the rattan cane back on its rack. “Very well, but you’ll know where to come if you change your mind.” As he took the tawse to wrap it, Ettie handed her the next envelope.

  Accepting it, Phoebe first looked at Patrick.

  “Expecting another prize?” he asked, after taking the wrapped tawse.

  Phoebe blushed and thought about denying it, but decided she wouldn't like to have her new purchase demonstrated in front of their friends. Lifting her arm, she gave her wrist a little shake. “You’re the one who's been spoiling me all day,” she said.

  “And still am,” he said, pulling another box from his pocket.

  Pulling out the charm, she laid it on her palm. It was a ping pong paddle with a small ping pong ball attached to chime against it. “I’d forgotten about the need to disguise our kink.”

  “Do tell,” Vance encouraged, as Patrick attached the charm to her growing collection.

  “Well, we knew we were both spankos from that first time,” Phoebe explained. “Back then there weren’t exactly a lot of places you could walk in and buy such wonderful implements. The internet didn’t exist yet, and not a lot of artists had studios as eclectic as yours.”

  Patrick took over the telling. “Phoebe’s parents always had a ping pong table set up in their garage. One day we were at a family cook out and we’d gone out to get some additional folding chairs. Well, Phoebe complained that she was expected to do all the work while her spoiled little sisters just sat around. She’d been complaining a lot lately, which was not like her. I’d had enough and grabbed the nearest thing and paddled her butt.”

  Phoebe jumped in. “I discovered two things that week. First, a ping pong paddle really packs a wallop, and the reason I was crabby was because I was pregnant with Sam. My hormones were all over the place.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Ettie said. “A baby.”

  “I’m thinking your parents might not agree,” Vance said. Ignoring the women’s gasps, he grinned. “I mean, you stole their paddle; how’d you expect them to play?” He and Patrick laughed as their women rolled their eyes.

  “The point is, we decided that as our kids grew up, they might well question a flogger or strap lying around the house, but common things such as a wooden hairbrush, a kitchen spoon or a ping pong paddle didn’t raise their eyebrows,” Patrick explained. “And, smartass, we bought our own paddles and table. Our kids became quite good at table tennis.”

  “Open your clue before I say something to earn a spanking,” Ettie suggested, pointing to the envelope.

  Pulling out the card, Phoebe read the clue aloud.

  It doesn’t matter the distance, however far and wide – you’ll forever be close to my heart and belong by my side. I’ll cherish your presence wherever we roam, but my darling Phoebe, it’s time to go home.

  “Now that’s romantic,” Vance said, placing a kiss on Ettie’s cheek before she could speak.

  Phoebe agreed and tucked the envelope into her coat pocket, the basket having been left at home earlier. She stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on her husband’s cheek. “I’ll follow you anywhere for as long as I live. Let’s go home.”

  They left after giving and receiving hugs. Though the game had come to an end, Phoebe was entirely content. It had been a wonderful day. Fastening her seat belt, she turned to her husband. “I know we still have a few sushi rolls, but if you want dinner, maybe we should stop at the store.”

  “No cooking, remember,” he said, as he pulled away from the house. “I’m sure we can rustle up something.”

  Not as positive, she didn’t think it worth arguing over. They always had cereal and milk, which wouldn’t require any effort. It didn’t take long before they were once again pulling into their own driveway.

  Patrick lifted her from the truck. Before she could step away, he turned her away from him. “Close your eyes,” he instructed.

  Phoebe turned her head to look at him and saw he’d pulled a blindfold from somewhere. “Gosh, Pat, how much stuff can you carry in that coat?”

  “Enough,” he growled, as he popped his hand against her bottom. “Turn around and close your eyes. We might be home, but that doesn’t mean the game is ended.”

  Properly chastised and excited, she obeyed. Once the blindfold had been securely tied around her head, he took her hand and walked slowly to the door.

  Chapter Seven

  Once inside, he grinned. He’d racked his brain trying to figure out how he was going to be able to prepare the house and keep his final surprise a secret. His dilemma was solved when he ran into Cory one day and they talked about how he was hoping to find Kenzie work in Corbin’s Bend, since they were planning to move in together in March. Patrick had outlined his plan, and when Cory assured him that Kenzie would be thrilled to turn their house into a romantic get-away, he’d given them carte blanche. Looking at the dozens of candles flickering on almost every flat surface, and the scattered rose petals on the floor, Patrick had to hand it to the young woman. It certainly felt romantic.

  “Stay,” he said, after closing the front door.

  “Back to freeze tag are we?” she quipped, and then giggled as he popped her butt. He did help her out of her coat and took her gloves and hat, hanging them in the closet with his own, before he moved to make sure the rest of the house was ready. It only took a glance into the kitchen to see the table had been set, tapers glowing in the center next to a tall vase. He could smell the aroma of the food he’d ordered, and then did a double take. Grinning, he made a note to tell Bernie she was a genius. Instead of flowers, the vase contained long lengths of the cinnamon and sugar coated churros that Phoebe loved. They were wrapped with a red ribbon and made a unique and interesting centerpiece.

  A quick glance towards the door showed that Phoebe was still in place, her head turning as if trying to follow him across the room. He checked the bedroom and his grin widened. The bed had been turned down, pink and red rose petals scattered across the white sheets, a small white box sitting beside a long stemmed rose on Phoebe’s pillow.

  The bathroom had more candles, and there was a bowl of rose petals waiting to be dropped into the bath. A bottle of bubble bath sat next to the bowl. White towels were stacked on the counter, ready to be used. With everything ready, he returned to his wife.

  “Welcome home, honey,” he said as he removed the blindfold and cupped her face in his palms. He kissed her and then stepped aside, watching as her eyes took in the candlelight and the petals.

  “Pat, this is amazing,” she said, and then sniffed the air. “Oh, is that Endele’s I smell?”

  “Of course,” he said, as he took her hand and led her into the kitchen. “Since we both adore Mexican food, it was the natural choice. Now sit down and I’ll get the food.”

  She sank into the chair he pulled out for her and then giggled when she saw the centerpiece. Reaching for a churro only got her hand slapped away.

  “That’s decoration,” he teased, as he moved to the oven to remove the containers.

  “Funny, that looks like dessert to me,” she said, as she reached for the frozen margarita that was at her place. “How on earth did you do this? I mean, my glass is still frosty.”

  “Some things are better left to the imagination,” he said, as he put a plate in front of her. He had fallen in love with Mexican fare when he’d left the Army and moved to Texas to marry Phoebe and begin their life together. He fixed his own plate and sat across from her.


  “Remember the first time you tried a jalapeño?” she asked with a smile.

  “Yes. I thought you were trying to kill me,” he chuckled. “Next thing I knew we were growing our own so that you could make poppers.”

  “Well, karma bit me in the butt the time I bit into one right off the vine. God, I swear I can still feel the burn.”

  “You drank a gallon of milk,” he said as he lifted his glass. “A toast – to my wife, who has taught me so much and made me grateful for every lesson.”

  Phoebe lifted her glass and tapped it against his. “And to my husband who has given me the most magical Valentine’s gift ever. Thank you, Patrick, for being my husband and making all these beautiful memories with me.”

  They each took a drink of the delicious beverage and then began to eat. He’d ordered enchiladas, queso dip and chips, stuffed poblano peppers, as well as beef fajitas. The quantity assured they’d have enough for lunch the next day, and he’d already made reservations at Amore’s, the community’s Italian restaurant, for Valentine’s Day dinner.

  He put the food away as Phoebe sat munching on the churro he’d finally allowed her to take from the vase.

  “These candles are pretty incredible,” she said as she looked around the room. “They almost look like they are really burning.”

  “Well, I know real ones might be more romantic, but I wasn’t absolutely sure of the timing. I didn’t want to catch the house on fire.” He’d told Cory he wanted candles but didn’t want them to have to hang around or run about lighting them when he and Phoebe returned to the house. Cory told him not to worry. These looked real but were battery operated, and the flickering came from small bulbs tucked into the ‘wax’ of the candle.

  Drawing her from her chair, he led her into the bedroom.

  “Oh, Patrick,” she sighed, turning to throw her arms around him. “You are just about the most perfect man on earth.”

  “Just about?” he teased.