Sweet Talk Boxed Set (Ten NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes Research plus BONUS Novel)

by Novak, Brenda

  Nell had been fretting and fussing over Jaime ever since the first time Mick had brought him home when he’d just joined the firm. Now that he was laid up, she was even more attentive. Luckily yesterday had been her baking day, so she was bound to be by today with Tupperware containers filled with treats and a few meals for his freezer. Perfect, he thought, suddenly looking forward to her visit for his own devious reasons, reasons that had nothing to do with melt-in-his-mouth cookies and triple berry pie or comforting Irish stew.

  Sure enough, just after five, Nell’s familiar car turned into the driveway. She emerged right along with Dillon, her husband of just a few years, an old flame she’d met again on a family vacation in Ireland.

  “What on earth have you brought?” Jaime called out at the sight of two armloads of containers. “I’m not starving.”

  “I worry about you just the same, living here by yourself and not able to get around so well,” Nell said. “I wish you’d agreed to stay over at Mick’s. I could keep a closer eye on you.”

  “Believe me, you -- the whole family, in fact -- do more than enough as it is,” Jaime said with genuine gratitude.

  “That’s as it should be, given the responsibilities you’ve taken on so Mick could spend more time with his family,” Nell said.

  Jaime grinned. “Are you so sure they’d thank me for that, now that they’ve had a few years of his meddling? They might welcome him being back on the road again.”

  “More than likely,” she agreed with a chuckle. “Dillon, love, can you put these things in the refrigerator while I chat with Jaime and make sure there’s nothing more he needs?”

  “Done,” Dillon said.

  He gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek and the kind of doting look that always made Jaime envious. The renewed love between those two, who were in their early eighties now, was an inspiration. That, far more than Mick’s lectures, made Jaime wonder about the solitary life he’d fallen into over the years he’d been devoting himself to work.

  “Everything okay?” Nell asked, her gaze sharp. “You seem to be in an odd mood.”

  “Just bored, which seems to be the norm these days.”

  “Nothing to catch your interest?” she asked in a way that told him she’d been hearing stories.

  “What have you heard?”

  “Just that there seem to be a few sparks flying with that lovely Emma Hastings,” she said. “Must be hard to chase her from your front porch.”

  Jaime sighed, seeing little point in denying it, especially if he wanted Nell’s help. “Exactly,” he said. “Any ideas?”

  Nell’s expression turned thoughtful. “I know her mother quite well from the library and our church group. I could see that they’re included at dinner this Sunday.”

  As badly as he wanted to see Emma again, that was far too many prying eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  “Too much, too soon,” she said with a nod. “You’re probably right. We don’t want to overwhelm the woman and scare her off.”

  Jaime held back a grin at the way she’d taken ownership of the problem.

  She fell silent as she gave the matter some more thought. Jaime sat and waited.

  “From what I hear,” she said eventually, “Emma’s been at loose ends. She’s having a bit of writer’s block and it’s frustrating her.”

  Startled, Jaime held up a hand. “Hold on. Emma didn’t mention being a writer.” He thought a second. She had mentioned that her library job was some sort of stop-gap measure, but had quickly clammed up after that.

  “A best-selling novelist,” Nell informed him with as much pride as if Emma were one of her own.

  Filled with curiosity, Jaime asked, “Has she written a lot of books? Does she write under her own name?”

  “Just the one, I think,” Nell said. “And yes, it was her name on the cover.”

  “How long ago?”

  Nell’s expression turned thoughtful. “Several years now. Her mother says she’s been working on her next book, but seems to be struggling with it. Now, I don’t know much about writers, but it seems to me that sometimes the best way to solve any problem is to stop picking at it.”

  “In other words, you think she needs a distraction,” Jaime said, focusing on formulating a plan. He could think about the implications of Emma not mentioning her writing another time. “I’m all for providing as much of a distraction as she needs.”

  “Too obvious,” Nell said, dismissing his eager offer. “I think I’ll ask her to help me with planning the fall festival at the church.”

  “Sounds perfect, but that won’t help me win her over.”

  “It will if you’re the other person on the committee,” Nell said, clearly pleased with herself. “It’ll be good to have a fresh perspective. You two will provide that.”

  “I might not even be here by the time this fall festival rolls around,” Jaime protested. “I’ll be out of the cast by the end of summer, God willing. And--”

  Nell cut him off before he could say he’d be on his way back to Seattle.

  “And then you’ll need physical therapy,” she reminded him. “Which you’ll take right here, if you have a brain in that head of yours, and if you’re serious about Emma. You won’t go running straight back to Seattle.”

  Jaime considered that option. He did have that sort of flexibility. If he could fly by then, he could certainly make a couple of quick visits and come right back here until after the fall festival was over and his duties were done.

  “What exactly is this committee assignment of yours going to involve? I can’t build booths and run all over the place on errands.”

  “But you can direct others to do that. Isn’t that something you excel at doing?” She frowned at him. “What’s with these excuses, Jaime? Do you want to spend time with Emma or not?”

  “I’m in,” he said quickly.

  “Then I’ll send Dillon by to get you tomorrow at two. We’ll meet at my house because there aren’t any steps to trip you up. Play your cards right and you’ll both be staying for dinner and Emma will be bringing you home.”

  Dillon had emerged from the house just in time to overhear enough to figure out what the two of them were up to. “And here the whole family thinks Mick is the mastermind of all the matchmaking,” he said, shaking his head. “He has nothing on my Nell.”

  “I’ve had a lot more years of practice,” Nell said. “And I’m subtle. Mick’s like a bull in a china shop. That’s why no one trusts him. They’re always alert to an ulterior motive.”

  “And you’re practically a saint,” Dillon said, amusement written all over his face.

  Nell’s blue eyes flashed. “Are you suggesting otherwise?”

  Dillon laughed. “I wouldn’t dare. Watch out for this one, Jaime. Once she gets a bit in her mouth, she’s relentless.”

  “I’m counting on that,” Jaime said. He’d take all the help he could get until nature kicked in and did the rest.

  ***

  Nell’s cottage overlooking the bay was like something from a fairytale. Her gardens, in full bloom now, were a riot of color and fragrance. Rather than going inside, Emma was tempted to wander out there and sit, absorbing the sound of the birds and the beauty and tranquility of the setting.

  Unfortunately, the front door opened and there was Nell, a beaming smile of welcome on her face. “There you are,” she called out cheerfully. “Just in time.”

  “How are you?” Emma asked, kissing the older woman’s cheek. “You look incredible.”

  “Hardly that, but I’ll thank you just the same,” Nell said, leading her toward the kitchen. “I thought we’d meet in here. It’s cozier and I’ve made tea and scones.”

  In the doorway, Emma came to a sudden stop. There, already munching on a blueberry scone, was Jaime, his casted leg propped up on another chair, a chintz cup of tea steaming in front of him. That cup looked ridiculously dainty next to his large, work-roughened hands. The fact that he hadn’t asked Nell for a more masculine mu
g made Emma’s heart swell for some reason. A man who did that would be strong, yet gentle in other ways, too.

  “You know Jaime, of course,” Nell said briskly. “I’ve asked him to help us, as well. I’m hoping for lots of new ideas from the two of you so this year’s festival won’t be more of the same old thing. It needs a fresh perspective.”

  Emma suspected what Nell was really hoping for was a firsthand look at the sparks her family had been describing between Jaime and Emma, but she wasn’t about to toss that accusation in Nell’s face. She merely gave Jaime a wry look.

  “Do you have a lot of experience with planning a fall festival?” Emma asked him, her skepticism plain.

  “Not a bit,” he admitted readily. “I attended my share of huge Calle Ocho events in Miami and enough art festivals to last a lifetime, but something tells me this is entirely different.” He studied her. “How about you? Are you experienced at planning festivals?”

  “Hardly. I’ve been to a few since I’ve been back in town, but I’ve never planned one. Nell, are you sure we’re the best choices? I know the community counts on this for added fall tourism and the church relies on it as one of their big fundraisers.”

  Nell gave her a serious look. “Then you’ll work really hard not to let me down, won’t you? Now, shall we get started?”

  Emma sighed and took a big bite of her blueberry scone to keep from saying something impolite.

  “I have a list of the vendors who’ve already paid their fees,” Nell began. “We’ll have the usual apple cider booth. That’s always a big favorite.”

  “They do sell the most amazing apple cider doughnuts,” Emma added, barely containing a sigh at the memory. “And candied apples and caramel apples.”

  Jaime chuckled. “So, you’re all about the food. I was hoping for a kissing booth. Is there one of those?”

  “No,” Emma said very firmly, frowning at him.

  “But an interesting idea,” Nell said.

  She seized on it in a way that made Emma wonder just how deeply she was involved in the whole O’Brien conspiracy to throw Emma and Jaime together as frequently as possible.

  Her expression thoughtful, Nell added, “I imagine the single men in town would spend quite a lot for a chance to kiss some of our most eligible young women.”

  “I know I would,” Jaime said, his gaze never leaving Emma’s face. “Depending on the woman, of course, and only because it’s a good cause.”

  “Yeah, right,” Emma muttered. “Why not put a few sexy hunks in the booth and let women pay for the privilege of kissing them? I’m sure you’d volunteer for that, wouldn’t you, Jaime?”

  Jaime merely held her gaze in a way that had color flooding her cheeks.

  Nell chuckled. “An equal opportunity kissing booth. I like it. I’ll put it on the list as a possibility.”

  “What other vendors are on the list?” Jaime asked.

  “Several local crafters, a few artists, some of the local shops, a variety of food vendors, and a few civic clubs that sell various things for their own fundraising efforts,” Nell said, scanning over her list. “It hasn’t changed much in years. We have a small carnival set up for the kids to enjoy and the church has booths with games with small prizes.”

  “So it’s a real, old-fashioned small-town event,” Jaime concluded. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here for it. What are the dates again?”

  “Last weekend in October.”

  “Have you considered a Halloween costume parade?” he suggested.

  Emma regarded him with surprise. “What a great idea!” she conceded. “The kids would love that, especially since a lot of parents seem to be discouraging trick or treating these days. People along the route could be encouraged to hand out candy and we could give a small prize for the best costume in two or three age groups.”

  Nell clapped her hands with delight. “A wonderful thought!” she concurred. “I knew I did the right thing by inviting the two of you to be on the committee. And other ideas?”

  “Do you have any music?” Jaime asked. “It might be nice to have a band perform so some of the adults and teens could dance.” His gaze settled on Emma. “Perhaps by then I could even manage to take you on a spin around the dance floor.”

  Emma wanted to comment that she hadn’t expected him to be around town that long, but she remained silent, even as her pulse skipped a beat or two at the look in his eyes.

  “It would encourage people to stay into the evening,” Nell said thoughtfully. “And I imagine Luke could suggest some musicians. He has bands at the pub quite a lot. Perhaps he’d even consider underwriting the performances in return for a banner advertising the pub.”

  A half-hour later they had a list of intriguing new ideas. Nell assigned each of them several possibilities to investigate.

  “Next week at the same time?” she suggested. “Jaime would you like us to come to you? Would that be easier?”

  “If I can catch a ride with Emma, coming here works for me,” he said. “I enjoy getting out of the house.”

  Nell’s expression brightened. “If you’re eager to get out, then how about this, instead? Luke has a lively Irish band performing at O’Brien’s on Friday night. Why don’t we go there to check it out?”

  “Works for me,” Jaime said at once. “Emma, if you’re available on Friday, would you mind picking me up?”

  Though she knew perfectly well that she was falling into a neatly set trap, Emma also knew there was no reasonable way to decline. If she claimed to have other plans, sooner or later she’d be caught in the lie. “No problem. Do you need a way home now?”

  “Sure, if you have the time. Dillon picked me up, but there’s no reason to put him to any trouble if you’re going right by my house.”

  “No reason at all,” she said dryly.

  In the car, she glanced over at her passenger. “Did you put Nell up to this?”

  “Up to what?”

  “Putting me onto this committee with you?”

  “Do you honestly think anyone tells Nell what to do?”

  Emma considered that. Nell was notoriously independent. “But it works out rather nicely for you, doesn’t it?”

  “Does it? It means I’ll be in Chesapeake Shores longer than I’d initially planned, so if you think about it, it’s actually inconvenient.”

  “And yet you don’t seem to be the least bit upset by that.”

  He grinned. “After today, I’m definitely seeing the up side, especially if I can convince Nell to move forward with that kissing booth and the whole dance thing.”

  “If she goes along with you, I’ll be sure to point out some of the available women in town,” she offered, even though her stomach knotted at the thought.

  “No suggestions necessary. There’s only one woman I’m interested in,” he said, his gaze steady.

  Emma held his gaze, then finally shook her head in exasperation. “What am I going to do with you? You don’t give up,” she murmured.

  “Definitely something you should keep in mind,” he said as they pulled up in front of his house. He got out of the car without assistance, then stuck his head back in. “Pleasant dreams, Emma. See you Friday night.”

  Coming from anyone else the comment would have meant nothing more than a casual reminder, but somehow coming from Jaime, it was filled with innuendo. Emma wasn’t sure which was more disturbing, the likelihood that he’d be sneaking into her dreams tonight or that Friday night was going to feel an awful lot like a date, even if they would have a couple of chaperones and a whole slew of curious onlookers.

  Chapter Five

  There was already a large, noisy crowd at O’Brien’s by the time Emma and Jaime arrived on Friday night at seven. Jaime noticed that Nell had managed to snag a great table by the window for the four of them. It was far enough away from the bandstand that they’d be able to hear each other and, thanks to some shifting around of chairs, there was room for Jaime to prop up his leg without it being in the way of the
wait staff. He noticed Emma glancing around with a surprised expression.

  “What’s that look about?” he asked as they settled in to await Nell and Dillon’s return. Dillon was getting ales and soft drinks at the bar and Nell was apparently in the kitchen telling the chef what to do. Jaime had heard all the stories about Nell taking a proprietary interest in the pub’s Irish menu.

  “I’ve never seen it this crowded in here before,” Emma confessed.

  “You haven’t come to hear the music?” Jaime asked. “I know Luke has bands playing pretty regularly. I’ve even managed to come a couple of times. It’s always packed.”

  Emma shook her head. “This is a first for me.”

  Jaime considered the implications of that. “Surely there are men who’ve asked you out since you arrived in town. It’s been at least a couple of years, right?”

  “A few, actually. And I have been asked out.”

  “But you’ve turned them all down,” he concluded.

  “I don’t really have time for a social life. My best writing time is at night.”

  Ah, there was the opening he’d been waiting for, a chance to explore the career she hadn’t even mentioned to date.

  “Writing time?” he inquired carefully. Clearly it was a touchy subject, so best to satisfy his curiosity slowly.

  She looked away, clearly regretting the slip of the tongue.

  He refused to let it pass. “What do you write, Emma?”

  “I wrote a book. I’ve been working on another for a while now.” Her gaze narrowed. “But you knew that, didn’t you? And you’ve heard about the writer’s block?”

  “It’s been mentioned. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t fill me in yourself. Clearly that’s where your heart lies. You’ve said yourself that working at the library is just a job.”

  “It’s hard to explain to someone that I wrote this book that had a moderate amount of success, but have nothing to show for all the hours I’ve spent in front of the computer since then,” she said, clearly embarrassed. “I haven’t written anything worth reading for a couple of years now, not even a discarded manuscript I can point to and claim I’m still a writer.”