Trish sighed. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Jason, but being comfortable in my hometown and friendly with the people doesn’t mean I like living here.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t,” he admitted, sliding off his stool and heading to a table recently abandoned by customers. He gathered the glasses together and started carrying them to the bar. “And I could prove my point with more detailed examples, but that would mean giving away one of my closely guarded secrets.”
Trish took the glasses he’d bussed and started dunking them in the soapy water while watching him go back for more dishes. What a brat. He’d dropped that line knowing full well she’d bite. Sweeping a quick look at the three tables currently occupied to make sure no one appeared to need anything, she braced her hands on the edge of the sturdy oak counter and narrowed her eyes at the man returning with the rest of the stuff from the table.
“Okay, I give. Tell me these supposed detailed examples you have.”
He smiled, showing off his dimples. “Curiosity got the better of you?”
“Honestly, I don’t think you have anything, so I’m calling your bluff.”
Jason clapped his hands together once and rubbed them together in anticipation. Then he mirrored her stance, gripping the edge of the bar across from her and began giving her an account of events like a computer spitting out data.
“Shortly after you moved back home, you overheard one of your customers talking about how she wouldn’t be able to plant flowers around her house this year due to the surgery she was scheduled to have on both wrists. You could’ve ignored it, after all she wasn’t talking to you, but instead you approached her and offered to plant well over two hundred tiny annuals in her flower beds and then also ended up weeding and cutting her grass on your free day from work. From what I heard, Mrs. Beran was so thankful that she sent you a lovely card and a gift certificate from the Chamber of Commerce, which you then spent treating the Shark Bytes to a post-game treat at Frosty Freeze.”
Trish’s mouth gaped as she stared at him, her head spinning.
“How about the fact that you took your niece and nephew to see every performance that came to the high school. A capella groups, musicals, the hypnotist dude, comedy shows, and whatever else they booked there over the summer. You also made dates with each of them on separate weeks so you got one-on-one time with them.
“Then there’s the kid sporting events. You asked Erin to work around your nephew’s baseball games and made sure you were front row for every game, shouting and cheering louder than anyone else in the bleachers. On the days you didn’t have to work during Tony’s kids’ games and even Tony’s games, you made every one of those, too. You didn’t choose to be somewhere else, and you can’t even say you attended out of kindness because you got into those games every bit as much as the parents.”
“Should I go on?” he asked with a cocky arch of his brow. “Because I can. For quite a while. I haven’t even gotten to July yet.”
Still in shock, Trish shook her head. Small town gossip was one thing, but this was ridiculous. “I don’t understand. That’s creepy, Jason. How do you know all of that?”
“Ah, well...” Glancing over his shoulder at the customers behind him, he made sure no one was eavesdropping—though if the spark of amusement in his eyes and the hint of a smile told her anything, it was that he wasn’t totally serious--then turned back to her and lowered his voice in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Unlike you, I haven’t been distracted by a partner to share my bed with, and that gives me time to notice everything around me. I’m a carefree, flirtatious joker—to a fault—but not even a blind man could miss how happy you’ve been since you’ve been here.”
“And no one ever suspects the Good Time Charlie to be paying attention,” she said in awe. His smile now beamed back at her, framed by his dimples.
Trish speared her hair with her fingers, trying to wrap her mind around everything she’d just heard and the idea that apparently there’s plenty more where that came from. Suddenly she felt stifled and a dull ache started pulsing in her temples. “I, um—” She cleared her throat. “I need some air. Can you...?”
Jason jerked his head in the direction of the door. “I’ll cover you. Take your time.” She didn’t waste time skirting around the end of the counter to make a bee-line to the front. “Hey,” he said, catching her arm before she could pass him. She met his eyes and saw true concern. “I’m sorry if I upset you. You know that’s not my intention, right?”
Covering his hand with hers, Trish gave him a light squeeze and an understanding nod before once again stalking toward the exit. Once she left the suffocating atmosphere of the air-conditioned pub and stepped into the oppressing humidity of the ninety-degree day, she was finally able to drag in a deep breath. How was that for ironic.
She moved to the corner of the building and leaned back against the bricks. Tilting her face to the sun, Trish closed her eyes and focused on taking slow, deep breaths. In the wake of everything Jason recounted, she couldn’t continue to claim she hated small town life, or at least not in Fort Atkinson. Thinking back on how she spent her summer, she was helpless to stop the smile—the first real one in weeks—that reflected the emotions rising inside her.
How had she not realized before now? She’d truly been happy the past few months. Sure, the town had a gossip mill the size of Texas, and everyone at some point found themselves caught up in the middle of it. But it was in that same manner that the community heard about others in need and then banded together to form a network of support and help.
A part of her would miss the excitement of the big city where the entertainment options were endless and the billboard lights lit up the streets at night like a Technicolor version of the day. But it wasn’t as though she was locked within the walls of Fort like some townie prisoner. If she wanted big city options, there were plenty within driving distance.
Beyond that, her little town had a lot of things to offer that weren’t possible when she lived in New York. Things like the outdoor theater on the outskirts of town where the bed of a truck easily transformed into an actual bed for a double feature movie date under the stars.
God, the stars. They were nothing short of magnificent on a clear night. Trish had always loved lying on her back in the soft grass, ankles crossed and hands folded over her stomach, as she searched for the constellations she knew of and made up names and stories for the ones she didn’t.
Thankfully, light pollution hadn’t tainted their little corner of the world. That dull orange glow cast over New York City like a dome meant to separate it from the rest of the universe had always made her wistful. The only orange glow out here belonged to the sunset, its bright streak painted over the horizon and bled into slashes of pink, purple, and red. Then, at dusk, the fireflies blinked on and off, challenging the kids—or the big kids at heart—to play the old-as-time game of catch and release. As night wore on, they grew more and more scarce until finally turning the evening over to the brilliance of the stars overhead.
Damn it. She did love it here. But even so, she couldn’t stay. One of the small town drawbacks was seeing people you knew no matter where you went. With as involved as Tony was in the community, she was guaranteed to be in the same place at the same time as him, and with everything she’d already put him through, she’d not make him uncomfortable in his own town. So, to that end, her plan for moving to Chicago in two days was still a go. But now she’d be doing it with the knowledge that she’d rather stay. Too bad she didn’t have anything worth staying for.
“Trish?”
Holy shit. She must have heat stroke. Or maybe she fell asleep standing and this was a bad dream. Squeezing her eyes shut, she began praying fervently. Please, God, let this be a bad dream. Turn it into a nightmare if you want, just please don’t let it be real.
“It is you.” The man’s voice she knew almost better than her own couldn’t have been more than a few feet away. Then she felt a shad
ow fall over her and she knew it was no dream.
Reluctantly, Trish opened her eyes to find Nick standing before her. His face lit up with obvious joy at having found her, though why he was looking in the first place she couldn’t even imagine.
“Jesus, Nick, what the hell are you doing here?”
A brief wince interrupted his happiness. “I suppose I deserve that.”
She barked out a humorless laugh. “You suppose you deserve that? Are you fucking kidding me?” Trish pushed off the building to stand tall and revel in the anger now coursing through her like lightning. “Over nine years together and you never once came with me to see my hometown or meet my family and friends. But almost six months after you break up with me and send me packing halfway across the country you decide, what, to take a quick trip out to say hi for old times’ sake?”
“Yes. I mean, no, I didn’t come all the way out here just to say hi, obviously,” Nick said with a tinge of irritation. “That’d be a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“I’m thinking a whole lot of things right now that you probably don’t want me to voice.” Trish crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to appear bigger or stronger somehow. That’s what cornered animals did, all the while they were trembling on the inside from anxiety and fear of the unknown. “So why don’t you tell me why you are here, Nick, and then you can go back to New York where you belong.”
He expelled a heavy sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, something he did when he needed a few moments to gather his thoughts before speaking. Finally, he steepled his hands and rested his fingers on his mouth as he studied her, probably looking for her fleshy underbelly where he could strike her down with the least amount of effort. She’d be damned if she’d show him anything. As far as he was concerned, she was covered from head to toe in thick, impenetrable scales. Good luck, asshole.
“I’ve reconsidered our situation. Almost a decade of life together is too much to throw away because of some minor differences in what we want.” Nick took a deep breath, carefully lowered to one knee—wincing upon contact, she knew, from the idea of his designer dress slacks touching a dirty sidewalk—then retrieved a ring box from his pocket and held up as he snapped it open. “Trish Lynn Howell, will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”
She must be getting Punk’d. It was the only explanation, because this was the most fucked up shit she could think of happening. For years, her greatest desire was to be engaged to the man she loved and start the next chapter of their life together. Now she had two proposals in as many weeks that she didn’t want, and in two days, she planned on moving to Chicago to start a new and very non-affianced life.
What. The. Fuck.
“What do you say, Trishy?” Standing up, he thoroughly brushed off the knee of his pants before straightening and giving her his attention. “Let’s go home. I took care of your flight. All you need is an overnight bag, and we’ll have what little is left of your things shipped back.”
When she finally opened her mouth to speak, the lack of emotion—either good or bad—surprised her. Her words were robotic, matter-of-fact. “I’ve always hated it when you call me that.”
Turning away from him, Trish walked back into the bar and went to check on the three tables of customers that remained. They’d been done with their food some time ago, but they were regulars who enjoyed getting together with friends once a week for a couple hours so she knew they wouldn’t be in any hurry to leave.
“Ladies, can I get you anything or has the handsome Mr. Jason been attending your needs during my break?”
A streak of sunlight shone into the bar and vanished as Nick opened the pub door and moved directly behind her, speaking as though she hadn’t just asked her customers a question that he’d be interrupting. “I thought you loved that nickname I gave you. I used it all the time and you never said anything.”
She pointedly ignored him while the four women discussing their gardens, one of which was none other than Mrs. Madsen, paused long enough to smile up at her and let her know they had everything they needed at the moment. “Great,” Trish said. “Just give me a holler if you need a refill on anything.” Then she answered Nick without looking at him as she grabbed up a few dirty dishes on her way to the bar. “I hated it. It sounded like I was a baby, which in retrospect I suppose is appropriate considering that’s how you treated me.”
Nick sputtered as he trailed behind her. “What the hell are you talking about? I never treated you like a baby.”
Trish rounded the counter and handed the dishes off to Jason when he reached for them. “On the contrary, Nick. You always patronized me and did things for me. You ordered my food and drinks in restaurants whenever we went out with other people, I wasn’t allowed to balance my own checkbook or pay my own bills. You treated me like I didn’t have the sense God gave me to make any decisions that might actually matter or that might embarrass you in front of our friends.”
Jason sidled up close to her with his body turned slightly into hers as he stared at Nick through steely blue eyes. She’d never seen Jason like this before. Gone was the flirtatious man ready with a quick smile and playfully inappropriate compliment. In his place stood an intimidating man with his over-six-foot athletic build and muscular arms folded over his broad chest, stretching his black Fort Atkinson Blackhawk Football t-shirt to max capacity. “There a problem here, sweetheart?”
“No problem, Jason,” she said easily. “My ex just wanted to stop in and propose, but now he’s leaving to head back to New York, aren’t you, Nick?”
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she felt Jason tense even more beside her. “Your ex?” He said the words as one might say “putrid waste.” Then he clearly directed the next part at said waste. “Don’t let the heavy door castrate you on the way out. Or do. Whatever.”
Nick returned Jason’s glare. “Sweetheart?” he practically sneered. “After everything we had, Trish, I can’t believe you moved on so easily. Especially with some small town jock who sticks around to relive his glory days in order to feel like he’s worth something.”
Trish flattened a palm against Jason’s chest just as he’d lowered his arms and likely prepared to launch over the bar. Then she leaned in and hissed, “Goddammit, Nick, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t get to come to my home and insult my friends.” Without taking her eyes from Nick, she said, “Jason, please give me a minute.”
“I don’t think—”
“Jason.”
“Fuck. Tony’s gonna have my balls for this,” he grumbled. “I’ll be right over there if you need me.”
Jason had directed his last statement to Trish, but it was obvious it’d been a warning meant for Nick. Regardless, she wouldn’t need his help. For the first time in almost ten years, Trish saw her ex-boyfriend clearly, and she was confident on how to handle him.
“Nick, who I’m dating or even whether I’m dating, is no longer your concern. Just as who you may or may not be dating is none of mine. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but it’s time for you to go.”
“You’re not even going to let me state my case?”
She sighed. Even marriage proposals were treated as possible business mergers where he thought it was possible to win-over the other party. If letting him try and fail was the only way to get rid of him, so be it. “Fine. State your case, and then you can go.”
Nick’s face soured. “I don’t like that you’ve already made up your mind, that you won’t like what I have to say.”
She shrugged and began the task of removing glasses from the soapy sink and dunking them into the sanitizer. “Then you know where the door is.”
“Okay, I get it,” he said hastily, holding his hands up like white flags. “Trishy—I mean, Trish, I’ve done a lot of thinking during our separation. I realize now that feeling like I needed to stay in the neighborhood where I grew up was a case of cold feet, not to mention unfair.”
She cocked a hip out and
crossed her arms. “And selfish.”
He offered her a clipped nod, not thrilled at her interjection. “My point is, there’s no reason we can’t compromise and find an area we like that has houses instead of apartments. Then we both have what we want and we’re both happy.”
Trish couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You don’t get it, Nick. I didn’t just want a house. I wanted us to raise our family in a house outside of the city. Something with a big yard where our kids could play and grow and we could enjoy barbeques with our friends. Houses in the city have front stoops that lead to sidewalks and there’s no room for kids to play or to put a grill out.”
He frowned. “I don’t even know how to grill. Why is that so important to you?”
“We come from two different worlds, and in the beginning, I wanted the same kind of life you did. I loved the excitement of the city and everything it offered. But somewhere along the line that changed, and when we talked about our future, I thought you had changed along with me.”
A sense of utter calm flowed through her as an epiphany rose out from the mist of confusion she’d been roaming around aimlessly in for the last several months. “You’re nothing of what I need in a partner, Nick. And if you take a close look at me, at who I’ve become, you’ll realize I’m no longer the one for you either. I need a man who loves to laugh with me, who loves to be with me no matter what we’re doing. Who loves me just as I am, unapologetically and unconditionally. Can you honestly say that man is you?”
Nick swallowed and replaced the ring box in his pocket as he studied her. Finally, he spoke. “I’m sorry for any pain I caused you, Trish. I wish you nothing but happiness in your future.” He gave her a wan smile. “I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you.”
That wasn’t the problem. It was that Tony didn’t know how lucky Trish knew she was to have him. He’d been going through the last two weeks thinking she didn’t want him—due to her own cowardice and stupidity—and that ate at her like nothing else.
Sweet Talk Boxed Set (Ten NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes Research plus BONUS Novel) Page 37
