Gail Martin - Her Valentine Hero

He Never Stopped Loving Her

This handsome football coach cannot be little Jonny Turner, Neely Andrews’s best friend’s kid brother. Back in high school, Jonny was nothing but a pest. When family troubles bring Neely back to her hometown, Jon is there to offer friendship and support...and maybe something more. Turns out that Jon has adored her from afar all these years. Neely has to admit he’s become the kind of man who’d make any woman proud. But will a terrible secret from her past scare him off? Or will Jon make her feel free enough to share everything with him?

“Jonny, I can’t believe you remembered that crazy pumpkin top I wore that day, back in high school.”

Her gaping mouth drew into a smile. “I think I blocked that gaudy thing from my memory.”

But he hadn’t. When she’d hoisted the carton of food from the trunk, the sunlight hit her auburn hair and streaked it with gold, the color of leaves at the height of autumn. It had taken his breath away. He’d just turned fourteen, and Neely had become his first secret love.

Neely shook her head as a soft chuckle escaped her. “Why would you remember something like that?”

Talk about reality. The truth smacked him in the head and slipped to his tongue. “Because I had the biggest crush on you.”

Her hand flew up. “What are you saying? You had a crush on me?” She searched his eyes before she burst into a laugh. “You were a pesky kid.”

To her maybe, but to him, he was a man in love....

GAIL GAYMER MARTIN

is an award-winning author, writing women’s fiction, romance and romance suspense with over three million books in print. Gail is the author of twenty-eight worship resource books and Writing the Christian Romance released by Writer’s Digest Books. She is a cofounder of American Christian Fiction Writers, a member of the ACFW Great Lakes Chapter, member of RWA and three RWA chapters.

A former counselor and educator, Gail has enjoyed this career since her first book in 1998. This book is her fiftieth novel. When not writing, she enjoys traveling, speaking at churches and libraries and presenting writing workshops across the country. Music is another love, and she spends many hours involved in singing as a soloist, praise leader and choir member at her church, where she also plays handbells and hand chimes. She sings with one of the finest Christian chorales in Michigan, the Detroit Lutheran Singers. A lifelong resident of Michigan, she lives with her husband, Bob, in the Detroit suburbs. Visit her website at www.gailmartin.com, write to her at P.O. Box 760063, Lathrup Village, MI 48076, or at authorgailmartin@aol.com.

Her Valentine Hero

Gail Gaymer Martin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

“I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord,

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you hope and a future.”

—Jeremiah 29:11

Thanks to writer friend and E.R. doctor Mel Hodde, who provided me with medical information and validated information I’d already collected.

Thanks to Gary Lowry, who read my sports scenes and gave me an A-okay. Again, thanks to my Facebook group, Readers of Gail Gaymer Martin’s Books, for their support, ideas, helpful comments and wonderful reviews. If authors didn’t have readers, what good would a book be? Thanks to my agent, Pam Hopkins, and as always,

my deepest thanks and love to my husband, Bob. Without his support and patience (especially that),

I wouldn’t be the writer I am today.

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Recipe from Gail's Kitchen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Neely Andrews forced her legs to keep moving. One more lap and she’d take a break. Her tendency to add pounds to her five foot six frame provided perfect motivation to exercise. But since she’d been back in Ferndale for nearly seven weeks, she hadn’t exercised at all except for running up and down her father’s staircase. In Indianapolis, she’d joined a gym. Now she was worried about her dad’s recovery from a serious heart attack. Fitness had gone out the window, and weight had flown in. Running the high school track wasn’t the answer to her total workout needs, but it was better than nothing.

Although staying in Indianapolis might have been wiser, since she had the lead on another job, she couldn’t ignore her need to be closer to her father and widowed sister. Each time she thought about Ashley’s loss, Neely’s layoff became as unimportant as a lost penny, and though home brought back some darker thoughts, she focused on the brighter memories of friendships and happy times that still made her smile.

Fighting the desire to give her body a rest, Neely steeled herself and pushed forward, her lungs burning. Short of her goal, she nearly tripped over a shoelace splayed at her feet. She came to a stop, propped her hands on her thighs and braced her winded body to catch her breath. When she grasped the lace to retie her shoe, perspiration rolled down her forehead and stung her eyes. She lifted the bottom of her T-shirt and brushed the dampness away.

A wolf whistle jerked her upward, and she dropped the hem of her shirt. Across the field, boys were spilling from the school, wearing shoulder pads and carrying helmets. Two faced her, gawking. She let out a groan. Football practice. Another wolf whistle spurred her to turn away and ignore the silliness. She lowered her eyes to her plump legs, bare beneath a pair of running shorts. Who knew football practice began in August?

Her mind drifted back to the years she’d spent at this high school, but time fogged her mind. Memories of special occasions—some good, some bad—had glided or stumbled through her thoughts once in a while, but football practice hadn’t made an impact. Didn’t matter anyway. After fifteen years, school procedures had probably changed. Everything had changed.

A shrill whistle caught her attention. She looked toward the team and saw a man strutting onto the field. He glanced her way, said something to the boys, and before she could move, he headed in her direction. She focused on her lace. No doubt she would get a lecture from the coach for being on his turf. While she hurried to retie her shoe, his voice reached her. “Ma’am.”

What happened to Ms.? She tilted her head sideways noticing his long stride toward her. His build looked trimmer than a football player’s, but beneath his T-shirt she recognized a solid swell of muscles. His frame would look appropriate on a basketball court.

“Ma’am, would you mind leaving the field?”

What happened to please?

“You’re distracting the boys.”

She what? She straightened, embarrassed at his comment but, more so, irritated. “Sorry, I would have run the track this morning when I drove here earlier, but then I had to fight off the band. Apparently that’s when they practice.” When he drew close enough for to her to see his face, her heart tripped.

His squint grew to a wide-eyed stare. “Whoa! This can’t be Steely Neely?”

She couldn’t believe this good-looking specimen was her friend Rainie’s pesky kid brother. The only person she knew who would call her the concocted name was Jonny Turner. In the past, she would have shot out her typical insult, but “If it isn’t the conehead” faded from her mind. When she looked into his handsome face, she had all she could do to keep her mouth from gaping as widely as his.