Falling Star Valentine

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 E.D. Parr

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-170-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: JS Cook

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  FALLING STAR VALENTINE

  Romance on the Go ®

  E.D. Parr

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  “Sorry, I, er, I never meant you to find out like this, Dale.” Jack’s voice held only the tiniest note of contrition. He threw the quilt over the naked guy who sat with his cock erect and a glimmer of a smirk on his face in their bed—the bed Dale chose for Jack and himself nearly two years before—the bed Jack had sworn was his favorite place on earth as long as Dale was naked in it.

  “Why, Jack? I thought we had something special.”

  Jack shrugged, and the tip of his dick bobbed on his stomach as he took a step toward Dale.

  “Look, I just got bored…”

  The guy in their bed knelt and sheathed his cock in one hand. He slid his fist up and down the hard column. “Hey, babe, don’t keep this hard-on waiting.”

  Dale turned away. “Babe?” He shot Jack a look full of pain. “I’ll come back for my stuff next week—Wednesday. Don’t be here. I’ll put the keys on the hall table when I leave then.” He strode out of the bedroom to the front door of the apartment.

  Jack followed him halfway. “I’ll keep in touch. We can still be friends.”

  Dale spun around. Sadness and fury mingled. “Don’t fuckin’ bother. I’ve been gone four weeks, four fuckin’ weeks, and you couldn’t wait for me…” Tears burned behind his eyes. Disappointment made his voice tremble. He raced out of the door and took the elevator to the street entrance of the building as nausea rose in him and his throat constricted with sorrow. He stood on the sidewalk with his cases of camera equipment and duffle bag. It was hard to breathe. He looked around. A cab cruised along behind a couple of cars. Dale flagged it down with a shaking hand. He gave the address of a hotel he’d once stayed in a couple of blocks away. He bundled his luggage into the cab. His chest felt raw as if he’d been running a long way.

  The strange feeling only dissipated when he sat on the small couch in the hotel suite he’d taken and sobbed.

  Chapter Two

  Six months later

  “Excuse me, sorry, excuse me…” Valentine Steel tried desperately to hurry against the tide of oncoming commuters on the stairs to the platform. A man bumped his shoulder hard, sending him backward, and Valentine grunted as he almost fell. He found his balance.

  “Sorry.” The man raced on.

  “Okay,” Valentine answered sadly. He made it to the next level where the crowd surged in a different direction and then, as he joined them, it thinned out when people hopped in elevators or onto escalators going elsewhere. He edged past a group who appeared to be waiting for something, and ran down the stairs weaving around people, to the final platform where he knew the long haul train must be about to set off.

  Halfway down the stairs, he saw the train leave the station. Disappointment made him sag to the tread of the step where he stood. He bowed his head. This is because I had to find clothes…

  A woman stopped in her journey alongside him. “Are you okay?” Her voice held concern.

  “I missed my train. Thank you for asking.” Valentine used the handrail to drag himself to his feet.

  “Sorry to hear it. Hope you can catch another.” The woman was gone.

  Valentine went onto the empty platform. Diesel fumes made him cough. His eyes watered from an acrid smell on the wind that suddenly caught him full in the face. He slunk to the side of the platform and leaned on the Plexiglas covered advertisement that decorated the tiled wall. “This isn’t fair. You’re wasting my time. Please do me the courtesy of placing me where I can catch the train.” He thought hard, sending the request skyward in the hope that his penultimate chance at finding love, or be illumination forever, wasn’t going to be wasted.

  ****

  Dale Walker gazed out of the train window as it hurtled through the pine tree studded countryside. Snow lay on the mountaintops in the distance, frosting the dark vegetation that ran up the steep sides. He’d chosen to travel by rail so that he could farewell this beautiful scenery, but now, as he fell into thoughts of Jack, emotion misted his vision and he traveled unseeing.

  Jack Duvall had promised him everything—had promised him the moon. Dale had fallen headlong into the warm blanket of those promises. It had been an awakening plunge into icy water to discover Jack had replaced him. In the short time Dale had been on a photo shoot the summer before, Jack had found someone new.

  Dale moved out of the apartment they shared immediately. He stuck around in the city for a time hoping that Jack would come to his senses and find him in one of the coffee shops or art galleries they’d frequented. Finally, Dale came to his senses, packed up his belongings, checked out of the hotel suite he’d taken, and bought travel home.

  Valentine’s Day had clinched it. The imminent celebration of love and lovers brought back such vivid memories of two years before, when Dale had met Jack, that he couldn’t bear to spend Valentine’s Day in the same city as Jack and his new boyfriend. Thinking back on how he’d stared up at the cold starry sky from his balcony, the last night he spent in the hotel, Dale couldn’t even smile at his petulance that had him cursing Valentine—whoever the dude was. He’d called loudly into the darkness.

  “Fuck you Valentine, fuck love, and keep your day.” It’ll just be a reminder of how once again I have no one in my life. I’ll travel home on the day so that I won’t be tempted to hang out in the bookshop where I met Jack.

  A soft sound of regret that he’d given his heart away so easily escaped Dale and then the sudden slowing of the train grabbed his attention. Thrown a little forward by the rapid decrease in speed, Dale huddled back in his seat. No one sat beside him and the magazine he’d placed on the adjacent seat flew off forcefully as the train ground to a halt.

  People stood and gaped out of the windows. Dale peered out at the white expanse sparkling in the morning sun, unaware until then that the train had even traveled into snow-covered country. The hum of concerned questions filled the carriage as people looked around and talked in hushed voices. There’d been no collision, no terrible sound of an accident and Dale, in the fog of his misery, waited quietly for some indication of what was going on.

  An announcement floated from the practically invisible speaker at the front of the carriage. A pretty sound chimed and a soothing voice stated the obvious before giving information.

  “Translines Rail has made an unscheduled stop. We apologize for the inconvenience. There is no need for alarm. We will shortly be mobile again when a passenger has boarded. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your journey.”

  Dale bent to pick up the magazine that had fallen to the floor of the carriage. He hadn’t even placed a fingertip on the glossy cover when a hand extending from the cuff of a black jacket sleeve took hold of the magazine, and lifted it.

  Dale swiftly looked sideways to see who the hand belonged to, and came face-to-face with a gorgeous man. Something about the man made Dale’s heart lurch, which scared him, and because of the scare his heartbeat increased. He closed h
is eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm this sudden flare of nerves. He gave up on retrieving his reading material and sat up in the plush velveteen train seat waiting for what would happen next.

  “Your journal. Is the seat free?” The man’s gentle voice soothed him only a little as he held Dale’s magazine out, and gave an indicative nod toward the vacant seat beside Dale.

  “Thank you, and yes the seat is free.” Captured by his outright beauty, Dale tried not to stare at the man. He dropped his gaze to the colorful shot on the cover, and accepted the magazine, holding it on his lap.

  The man sat.

  Dale struggled not to look at the passenger beside him, whose cologne now filled up his senses with a delicate, fresh, scent, a fragrance capturing the cool breeze crossing the ocean on a summer night, somehow full of promise. The suit the man wore was visibly expensive. Dale knew quality when he saw it even if it was only on a quick look. As a photographer for major fashion magazines, he’d gathered a knowledge and appreciation for clothes.

  Dale stared ahead and wondered if this man was the passenger the train had stopped for. He edged a little away from the central armrest dividing the seats—their size was generous and the man wasn’t even close, but Dale could feel his presence as if gripped by a magnetic force. Finally, unable to help it, Dale chanced a sideways glance.

  The man looked his way, a smile forming on his perfect lips. “I missed breakfast and now I’m hungry. I wonder if you’d join me. It’s so much more enjoyable to have someone to talk with than dining alone.”

  Surprised by the invitation, Dale was about to make an excuse for not accompanying this man, but the words that came out of his mouth weren’t those he intended.

  “Sure, it’s a carriage down.” A shiver ran up his spine.

  The man held out his hand. “Valentine Steel.”

  A huge river of strange emotion spiked the whole length of Dale’s body. Valentine. His mind seized on the word and he froze.

  Valentine Steel’s handsome face took on a questioning expression.

  It suddenly came home to Dale that Valentine waited for him to supply his name and accept the handshake. “Dale Walker.” He took Valentine’s hand. The touch was electric. Dale had never had such an immediate and nerve-wracking response to anyone in his life. He’d met male models that were smoking hot. He’d briefly dated a couple of them in the ten years he’d been in the fashion industry, but no one had ever made his heart hammer in his chest the way the sight of Valentine had. Not even Jack. The thought dropped like a stone into Dale’s mind.

  Now, with Valentine grasping his hand, Dale’s stomach filled with a butterfly feeling he’d not experienced since he was a teenager kissing his first boyfriend. He snatched his hand away.

  Valentine bestowed a gaze on Dale filled with understanding.

  A wave of self-consciousness bowed Dale’s head. I’m making a fool of myself.

  Valentine Steel stood and took a step back in the aisle to give Dale space to pass.

  “Lead the way, Mr. Walker.”

  Dale rose to his feet and dropped the magazine he’d been clutching in one hand onto his seat. Some sense of friendliness, or courtesy, forced the words from his mouth.

  “Please, call me Dale.” He walked to the end of the carriage, all the while acutely aware of Valentine following close behind. Dale went through the connecting doors into the dining car. He spotted a free table and headed there.

  Settled in a seat opposite Valentine, Dale’s thoughts jumbled. Why did I say yes? Hell, he’s so hot. Dale picked up the menu from its place on the crisp white tablecloth, next to napkin wrapped cutlery, and overturned drinking glasses that waited for use.

  He stared at the list of refreshments. His stomach churned. Like Valentine, he hadn’t eaten breakfast either, but it wasn’t hunger that made his stomach clench. He sighed inwardly, knowing his level of disquiet owed everything to how startlingly attractive Valentine Steel was. Six months of hankering after Jack flew away as Dale raised his head and caught Valentine gazing at him with pure desire shining in his sky-blue eyes.

  Chapter Three

  Pleasure flooded Valentine as he sat opposite the gorgeous man his gaze had picked out the moment he walked into the train carriage. Dale—adorable name, face, body too. Even his voice is attractive. Now he’s not yelling into the night. Valentine breathed in Dale’s presence. He considered Dale’s occasional stare at him, as if never encountering anyone like him. Valentine smiled with the thought. Do I fit in this time? His swift perusal of the people around him satisfied. I do, so that must mean he likes what he sees. Perfect.

  “What will we eat?” he asked Dale, and leaned a little forward, as his enthusiasm for being with Dale grew.

  Dale raised his gaze from the menu to Valentine’s face, and his sexy brown eyes held surprise.

  “I’m ordering coffee and a croissant, but that doesn’t mean you have to. There’s an array of breakfast dishes that look delicious.”

  Valentine scanned the menu. “If I over-order will you help me eat it?”

  Dale’s sudden, bright smile brought a tingle of joy to Valentine.

  “I can’t promise to … but I will try.”

  Valentine beamed at Dale. He shone his light on the delightful man before him. He wanted to enchant and spin a web of comfort around Dale. “Thank you.” Valentine allowed himself to imagine placing a strawberry between Dale’s lips and following the action with a gentle kiss. His eyes closed for a second as he brought to mind the special feel of skin on skin, his nose against a man’s cheek as their lips merged softly, and then he opened his eyes to gaze at Dale. I made a good choice for this visit. Already, this feels right. Valentine took a deep breath. The next twenty-four hours stretched ahead full of possibilities. When the server came to take their order, his was extravagant.

  He played with the water glass, circling it on the tablecloth and leaving indent trails that reminded him of nebula he’d passed on his journey to the ground.

  “Tell me all about yourself, Dale. What do you do? Where do you live?” Valentine thought this was a good way to start a conversation. It had worked in the past.

  Dale visibly shrank away from the questions.

  Panic gripped Valentine. He raced to fix whatever he’d done. “I’d love to know about you—anything, really.” Emotion must have flooded his expression. He felt the frown on his forehead and the burn of loss behind his eyes. He gazed on Dale as if Dale was already his lover.

  Dale’s eyes darkened at him.

  That means he likes me, doesn’t it? I hope so...

  “I’m a fashion photographer. I’m leaving the city I’ve lived in for a couple of years … going back home … well, to the place I grew up … hence the train journey.”

  Valentine nodded in understanding. “I’m doing the same thing, or at least trying to. So … where are you headed?” Wherever it was, as long it was on Earth, he would make it his destination.

  A soft smile played on Dale’s lips as he replied, and Valentine knew this place must be dear to Dale.

  “How extraordinary, that’s where I’m going.” Valentine had no problem with this declaration because he had nothing but the best of intentions. Anyway, there’s still truth in everything I’ve said.

  Dale’s answering expression puzzled him. There was a mix of emotions broadcast from Dale’s eloquent eyes. The one Valentine enjoyed the most was also the faintest. It was happiness, but the wariness overlaying it worried Valentine. “Are you going for work?” He hurried to continue the flow of conversation, hoping the happiness in Dale’s expression would grow.

  “I will have work, yes.”

  “But your leaving isn’t entirely happy?” Let him tell me. If he shares his story, it will bond us. He saw hesitation in Dale’s expression and waited.

  Into Valentine’s mind came a memory of Dale—Dale on his balcony cursing Valentine, but it hadn’t hurt because Valentine knew it wasn’t about him. It was about some ancient being who shared t
he same name, and anyway it had brought him to Dale hadn’t it, that sad cry in the night?

  When his name had echoed across the wide expanse of dark blue sky, Valentine woke from the daze of loneliness holding him in suspension, to watch over Dale, and listen to Dale’s plans.

  A smile played on his lips as he recalled looking through the bathroom skylight—Dale in the shower with tears streaming down joining the water that dripped from his handsome face—and then Dale sitting at his laptop, shirtless, his delicious back and arm muscles moving as he typed. Valentine swore he’d dry the tears when he was finally beside Dale. He’d kiss them clean away.

  He gazed at Dale’s mouth as his stomach tightened and he experienced an intense longing to kiss Dale. He hungrily watched Dale’s lips move.

  “I don’t want to trouble you with my sad little story.”

  Dale’s stoic expression touched Valentine. He felt a thud in the region where his heart was. Then a ripple of tenderness radiated to every part of his body and his heartbeat grew strong.

  “Oh, but you must. You wouldn’t trouble me. There’s no shame in having a sad story. I had one myself some years ago.” He pushed his hand over the short distance of the table, longing to touch Dale.

  Dale took a deep breath and Valentine knew he was going to share his story.

  “I broke up with someone, a lover … it hurt to stay in the same city. I’d moved there for this person and now … there’s no need to stay.” Dale stared at Valentine’s hand and edged his own along the tablecloth.

  The server arrived at the table with their order.

  Valentine waited, impatient now, until the server spread the food before him and Dale, then left.

  “I’m sorry. Do you still love this person?” He avoided saying man, although he knew it was a man. Dale’s sexual preference was apparent in the way he looked at Valentine. His eyes traveled over Valentine’s face with a particular gaze only a gay guy would make. Valentine had long searched for a man who made his heart leap the way the sight of Dale did. When he’d heard Dale reminisce about a man, who could only be an idiot to let Dale go, he’d been elated. He’d yearned for Valentine’s Day then, when he could show himself.