Tempting Talk (Tempt Me Book 3)

by Sara Whitney

  “Convince yourself first, because you’re sure as fuck not convincing me.”

  No way was he letting that be the last word. “She gave up on me!” he roared, wheeling around to face Dave. “I was already scheduling weekend trips. I was planning on wild phone sex and taking whatever vacation time we could steal together. But she just… she just rolled over and took it. Didn’t even try to fight for us. She all but helped me pack.”

  Somehow, watching Dave’s anger morph into pity made him feel even worse.

  “Whatever. It’s been great. See you round,” he muttered, storming down the hall and out the door before anybody else could rub more salt in his already painful wound. He threw the box into the back of his Jeep and slammed the door shut, anxious to get on the road. If he had to leave, he wanted to do it now before he lost the strength to uproot himself from Mabel’s life.

  As he drove out of Beaucoeur, he called her, but it went straight to voicemail. So he left a message, not bothering to hide the pleading in his tone.

  “I love you, Mabel. Stay with me on this. We’ll make it work, I promise.”

  He didn’t know how though. He didn’t have a clue.

  Thirty-Seven

  Had anyone ever been this miserable on her way to paradise? Mabel pondered the question. Napoleon traveling to Elba maybe. Wait, was Elba considered a paradise? And wait, why was she thinking about Napoleon in the first place? She was in the middle of a rowdy group of travelers at the Beaucoeur airport, getting ready to board a plane to take them to Atlanta, where another plane would deposit them all in Montego Bay. She bet nobody else here was thinking about despotic French history.

  “You look gloomy for someone trading Illinois in January for a beach for the next five days,” said Thea, straightened her Brick T-shirt as she scanned the sea of humanity milling around them. “I thought Jake was coming with you.”

  Mabel reached deep for her big radio smile, but it was low on wattage that morning. “He got stuck at work. You know how he is.”

  Thea’s “right” sounded skeptical, so Mabel excused herself to make the rounds with the fans, greeting them, thanking them for coming along, whooping excitedly along with them. Then she retreated to sit next to the Chiltons and Aiden, who’d decided at the last minute that the trip sounded too good to pass up. By the time they lined up to board the plane, she was exhausted from the forced cheerfulness. Yes, the Chiltons were lucky to be on an adult’s-only vacation. Yes, this was a great chance for Aiden to escape his work and family stresses. Yes, a week of sun and sand was exactly what she needed. Smile, laugh, keep your chin up.

  And then she shuffled onto the plane, sat down next to the empty seat that was supposed to be Jake’s, and started to come unglued. The tears she’d been fighting all morning trembled along her eyelashes, and she was scrounging through her purse for a tissue when Thea plopped down next to her and handed her a drink napkin.

  “Do you mind? I cannot sit next to Brick Babe Kimmie. She’s already drunk and suuuuper into hugging. And if the hugging’s bothering me, you know it’s bad.”

  Mabel sniffled and shook her head, gratefully clutching the napkin in her fist. “Go ahead.”

  Thea crammed her carry-on under the seat in front of her and turned shrewd eyes on Mabel. “So here’s the thing. I think whatever’s going on with Jake is more than a work issue. We’ve got hours and hours, so you may as well spill it.”

  When Dave had tried to talk to her about Jake that morning, she’d threatened to play nothing but Kenny G when their partnership resumed, but being crammed into a metal tube preparing to hurtle through the sky must’ve weakened her resolve.

  She heaved a shuddery breath and exhaled the words on a long sigh. “I panicked. He told me he was going back to Chicago, and I wasn’t prepared. So I freaked out and ripped off the Band-Aid.”

  Thea cocked her head. “Explain.”

  So for the next hour, Thea nodded in sympathy as Mabel poured out the whole story: Jake’s sudden return to Chicago when she’d thought they’d have more time to grow in their relationship. Her fear that another bad breakup would hurt her professionally. Her certainty that watching their love slowly dwindle would be more painful than a clean break now. The only thing she omitted was the way Jake had made love to her the night before. With each thrust, he’d whispered into her ear “I love you” with so much tenderness that she’d almost wept. She’d wanted to say it back, to tell him that she’d never loved anyone the way she loved him and couldn’t imagine the shape of her life without him. But the words had clogged in her throat, so she kept her eyes shut and turned her head away, already willing herself to forget the sweetness of his touch.

  “How did you leave things?”

  “I figured it would be easier for both of us if I didn’t make it some big, dramatic goodbye, so I just… left.” She blinked furiously to hold back the tears. The rest of the plane didn’t need to know how heartbroken she was, particularly since she needed to be radio babe Mae Bell this week. “And…”

  Thea waited for her to keep going. When Mabel didn’t, she gently prompted, “And?”

  Mabel took a deep breath and confessed what she hadn’t spoken out loud to anybody, not even Jake. “And I can’t just pack up and go be a deejay in Chicago, and he’s not going to chuck his career out the window for me. He shouldn’t! I’m so proud of what he’s accomplished. He’s been working toward that forever. Besides, we just started dating. How can you be sure after a few months?”

  She fiddled with the fold-down tray in front of her, not looking at Thea. “But… I think he was it for me. I felt like I’d finally found him.”

  “And did you tell him any of this?”

  Mabel shook her head. “No. I couldn’t do that to him. Everything he’s done over the past decade has been to land a partnership. How can I ask him to blow it off and stay in Beaucoeur with me? It’s better to just end it now.”

  Thea furrowed her brow. “No, I don’t think so. You should call him. You should explain all this—”

  Mabel pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, hard. “Nope. No more deep relationship talk for the rest of the trip. From this point on, I never want to be without a glass of rum in my hand, and I’ll only entertain fun conversations.” Then she was struck by a thought that made her shift uncomfortably in her seat. “Oh, but first, did Brandon talk to you about—”

  Thea nodded. “No worries. We’re all good. I’m so glad you’re going back on the air with Dave.”

  “You’re sure?” How weird that she was worried about hurting Thea’s feelings, but there it was. Joining her for yoga had become one of the highlights of her week. Okay, they usually skipped yoga to get donuts, but it was still a highlight.

  “Very sure. Turns out those morning hours are not for me. Of course, that means I was maybe a little hasty in quitting the hotel job.” She grimaced and held up her plastic cup of white wine in a salute. “But I’ll find the next thing before long. I always do!”

  She drained her cup, then said perkily, “Okay, so let’s move on to a fun conversation. Ummm… which of our traveling companions should I hook up with this week? Or should I wait until we get there to find somebody who’s not from my hometown?”

  For the remainder of the flight, Thea kept up a mostly one-sided conversation, and if someday she’d be forced to testify under oath, Mabel couldn’t have come up with a single one of the topics Thea covered. But it didn’t matter. She was pathetically grateful for the wave of chatter that didn’t require any response on her end except a dull uh-huh every five minutes or so.

  By the time the crew of their second flight collected all their empty cups and instructed them to return their tray tables to an upright position for their descent into Montego Bay, Mabel was torn between guilt and gratitude.

  “I don’t deserve this.”

  Thea paused in the act of unwrapping a stick of gum. “What do you mean?”

  She looked down at her chipped manicure, which she hadn’t care
d enough to touch up after the heartbreak of the night before. “I mean that I wasn’t very nice to you at first. I definitely didn’t think nice things about you. But you just made this whole flight tolerable for me. Thank you.”

  Thea freed the gum and popped it into her mouth. “No worries. I’ve been told it takes a while to warm up to me. I can come on a little strong.”

  Mabel’s lips pulled into a smile for the first time all day. “Maybe a little,” she said, giving Thea a nudge.

  Thea held her thumb and pointer finger a fraction of an inch apart and squinted through the gap at Mabel. “That’s okay. To know me is to grudgingly tolerate me.”

  Miracle of miracles, Mabel actually laughed at that, and before she knew it, she was being herded off the plane and onto a hotel shuttle with the rest of her group. She shuffled obediently through the check-in process at a hotel that was full of sunshine and ocean breezes, and when she got to her room, she walked out on a balcony overlooking the azure water and white-sand beach to find fresh-squeezed mango juice waiting in a carafe. Maybe she could find a little peace here for the week, away from the sorrow waiting for her in Beaucoeur.

  Then her eyes traveled to the massive bed in the middle of the room, made up with crisp white linens, and the tears started again. She was a single in a double-occupancy room. Six months ago, it might not have bothered her much, but now? It felt like an arrow through her heart.

  She turned back to the balcony and poured herself a glass of juice. She was in paradise, and the man she loved was thriving. All in all, it could be worse. She was happy for him.

  She’d try to be happy for him.

  Thirty-Eight

  Chicago looked vast from where he was standing.

  The jagged skyline sprawled across Jake’s vision, glittering with lights and motion, and he should be reveling in it. He had the office. He had the window. He had the view. All of it came with the partnership he’d officially been handed that morning, along with respect, stability, security. Everything he’d ever wanted.

  So why the fuck did he feel so empty?

  He was struck with the sudden urge to laugh. To drop onto his new plush carpet and howl with laughter until he had no more breath in his body. But nothing was funny about his current mood. Mabel liked to tease him about his Clark Kent appearance, but it turned out he was actually Bruce Wayne: handed the world, yet stuck glowering at it alone from on high.

  Clark Kent. Mabel. His broken heart.

  With a growl, he spun on his heel, turning his back on the view. He snatched his phone from his desk to confirm what he already knew: she hadn’t texted. Of course she hadn’t. He hadn’t texted her either. He’d had no contact with her since his unreturned voicemail. And if they ever did talk again, he wasn’t even sure which of them should be the one to apologize. Him, for taking the partnership? Or her, for letting him go without a single argument?

  “Fuck!” He dropped the phone and leaned his hands on his desk. It was shined to such a polish that he could see his reflection. He looked like shit.

  “You look like shit.”

  He snapped his head up at hearing his thoughts spoken out loud to see Milo in the doorway. “How’d you get in here?”

  His friend sauntered into the room and took a lap around the perimeter. “I told you. Your assistant thinks I’m dreamy.” He paused in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, giving a low whistle. “Sure beats the hell out of my office.” He dropped into the guest chair in front of the desk.

  “Your office is three times this size,” Jake reminded him.

  “It’s on the third floor of a glorified warehouse. I wish I could see all the way to Navy Pier.”

  Jake only grunted, but if Milo thought his lack of enthusiasm was strange, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he reached into his bag and produced a bottle. “Here. Congratulations on the partnership.”

  Jake accepted it without much enthusiasm, but when he read the label, it startled a laugh out of him. “You remembered.”

  A corner of Milo’s mouth tilted up. “Of course I remembered.”

  Jake wrapped careful fingers around the bottle of Suntory whiskey, touched at the reminder of their long-ago conversation. “What were we drinking that night?”

  “Old Crow,” Milo said with a grimace. “Celebrating you moving into your own apartment. Eight years ago, right?”

  The memory brought the first real smile to Jake’s lips in days. “That’s right. Old Crow was all I could afford after I’d put down a deposit and last month’s rent.” He shook his head. “God, we were babies. So excited to take on the world.”

  “So excited to have enough cash to swap Old Crow for Suntory someday.” Milo looked pointedly at the bottle in Jake’s hands.

  “Right, right. One minute.” He scrounged through his drawers until he located the coffee mugs where Marissa had stashed them after his possessions had been transferred into his new space. He’d have to get some barware for his office soon. Maybe he and Mabel could—

  Fuck. Including her in his plans was going to be a hard habit to break. It was a habit he didn’t want to break.

  With an impatient motion, he cracked the bottle open and inhaled the sharp scent, waiting to feel… something. But the pride over his new place in the world didn’t materialize as he’d hoped it would. He poured a healthy portion into both mugs and offered one to Milo.

  His friend clinked his cup against Jake’s and took a long sip. “Worth every penny,” he sighed.

  Jake imitated Milo’s action, letting the expensive Japanese alcohol roll across his tongue. It tasted fine; the smoky burn was what he expected from an aged whiskey. But it left him disappointed. This expensive bottle of alcohol was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to bestow a grander meaning to the events of the day, to be the ceremonial capper to this lifelong achievement. Instead, he tasted… alcohol.

  He took another sip, this time seeking numbness instead of elevation. He’d made it. He wasn’t the kid with the closet full of thrift-store clothes anymore. He could stop worrying about the future. So why did the years stretching ahead of him seem so empty?

  Milo stared down into his mug, still lost in the memory of their younger selves. “I thought we were going to die of alcohol poisoning that night, or at least go blind.” When Jake didn’t reply, Milo sighed. “Okay, dude, something is clearly bothering you. You should be fist-pumping and gloating about your success. Instead, you’re”—he waved his arm to encompass Jake’s whole sad-sack body—“whatever the fuck this is. What gives?”

  Jake set down his mug and dropped his head into his hands.

  “Oh. Oooooh. It’s the girl. Got it.”

  Jake lifted his gaze. “How the fuck do you always know?”

  “You think I don’t recognize breakup misery when I see it?” Milo tilted his head in sympathy. “I’ve never seen you that gone for a woman before. What happened, man? Did you dump her? Did she dump you? Did you propose and she said no? Oh God, is she pregnant?”

  “What? No!” Why was Milo talking about marriage and babies, and why did the thought of that fill Jake not with panic but with yearning? “No, we… we decided the long-distance thing wouldn’t work.”

  “So don’t do long distance.”

  Jake laughed humorlessly at Milo’s overly simple suggestion. “Yeah? How?”

  “Um, it’s pretty simple.” Milo set down his mug and held his hand out toward Jake, jabbing a finger to the base of his palm where it met his wrist. “You.” Then he slid his finger to the tip of his fingers. “Move here to be with the most important person in your life.”

  Like it was that simple. “Sure. I just walk away from this place after I finally got my—”

  “I swear to fucking God, if you say partnership right now.”

  The disgust in Milo’s tone caught Jake by surprise, and he shot back, “I’m sorry, have we not both been working our asses off for years for exactly this kind of promotion?”

  “Sure,” Milo said easily, pourin
g another splash of whiskey into his mug. “But I turned down an offer from New York last year because I want to stay close to my folks, and I never would’ve made that choice when I was straight out of college. Ask yourself this: Have you let your goals change over the years? And if not, why not?”

  “My goals are fine. Why would they need to ch—” Jake’s voice died in his throat as his brain finally caught up with the things his heart and his gut had been screaming at him.

  His priorities had changed. They’d started shifting months ago when Mabel walked into his office and asked for help with the station van. They’d kept shifting as he’d fallen in love with her, as he’d started valuing time with her over checking another box on his work to-do list. But when the time came to choose between her and the job, he’d been too scared to admit that he wanted something different after so long.

  “Oh fuck.” He looked at Milo in horror, realizing everything he’d said and done wrong. His mom and Finn were fine. They didn’t need him to take this partnership for the money; all they needed was for him to be happy. “I think I screwed it all up.”

  Milo nodded sagely. “I have no doubt you did. You don’t have much practice using your brain as anything other than a calculator.”

  Jake lurched to his feet. “I have to fix this. I have to get her back. I can still get her back, right?”

  Milo reached for the bottle of Suntory. “Hope so. Here, you’re going to need some more of this while we plan.”

  Thirty-Nine

  Saturday. Three days in paradise. Three days of Mabel shuffling around the island, wrapped in her own personal gray cloud.

  This should’ve been an amazing week. The first night of the trip, Dave had announced at dinner that she’d be back on the morning show with him when they got back, and everyone in their group had cheered and raised their glasses. She’d stood in the center of a group full of warmth and enthusiasm and thanked them all for their support, but inside she felt as steady as the crumbly sand under their feet.