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

by Novak, Brenda

  Her mom used to say Charlie was the only one who could make him stop, but it turned out it had been her mother in the end who knew how.

  Her mother had sat in the rocking chair, one arm hanging limp over the side of the chair. Christopher’s head was cushioned on her mother’s arm, but his face was blue. Her mother’s head was tilted downward, toward Christopher’s, and Charlie knew right away that something was wrong.

  All she remembered was screaming.

  Apparently she dialed 911, like they’d been taught in case of an emergency, but Charlie didn’t remember any of that.

  The next six months were a blur. She knew that with one look at her journal, at the pictures she’d drawn and the words she’d written, it would all come back to her. The grief. The guilt. The anger. It was why she never looked at her journal, and why she wouldn’t read Diane’s now.

  She didn’t need those memories.

  She replaced the items back in the box carefully, and in the process, when she was handling the journal, it opened briefly and out fluttered a small folded piece of paper.

  She hesitated opening it. She remembered giving Diane her journal as a child to read, because it was the only way she could communicate for those first six months, but she never remembered Diane giving hers in exchange.

  But she couldn’t stop herself. As she unfolded it, she realized this wasn’t Diane’s handwriting—that instead it had to be from their mother.

  For a brief moment Charlie wanted to ignore it, place it back inside Diane’s journal, but she couldn’t. Diane had held on to this for a reason.

  There is nothing I want more in life than to be a mother.

  There’s no greater gift.

  Laying my life down with gladness in my heart and a smile on my face is an honor, a gift to those I love.

  My children will know that I sacrificed all for their happiness.

  Hush now. Your tears rip me in half. Just close your eyes and let go. All will be well when we open our eyes once again.

  Then we’ll be together in a world where there will be no more tears.

  I love you more than life.

  These were her mother’s last words. It was a message...to whom? It sounded like she was writing to Christopher, a small infant who cried all the time. Were they his tears that ripped her in half?

  Her children would know she sacrificed for their happiness? They never asked for her sacrifice; all they wanted was her. Just her. Charlie would give anything to hear her mother’s voice, to feel the sweet press of her lips against her forehead when she said good night, to be able to give her mom a hug and have it returned. She wanted that...no, she’d needed that more than her mother’s sacrifice.

  It was why she became a paediatric nurse and worked in small villages and traveled to remote locations. She had an innate need, a driving desire to show love to a child who was alone. She’d lost count of the number of infants she’d held in her arms as they died, the tears she’d cried over their lonely lives...but at least they hadn’t died alone. They’d died being held, being loved for those moments they were still alive.

  Could she give that all up now? Could she stop being there for the children who were lonely and sick? Could she honestly give up that passion to help others?

  She didn’t want to, and it was killing her that she might have to, that the possibility of Diane ever being well enough was diminishing.

  She knew Nina didn’t want her to give up her career for Diane . . . but what kind of sister would she be to leave Diane alone?

  She knew what she needed to do when Marcus arrived. It was probably going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life too.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The moment Marcus walked toward her, a warm smile on his face, she melted.

  If it hadn’t been for his arms around her, she would have dropped to the floor in a puddle.

  “Whoa, I’m here.” He lifted her up. “Don’t tell me you’re swooning at my feet? Missed me that much, huh?” The smile on his face was infectious.

  “Shut up and kiss me.” She smiled up at him, so relieved to finally have him here.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He lowered his lips to hers, and the moment they touched all her worries, her fears, went away. All that mattered was the here and now. Having Marcus with her, at her side, being in his arms again...it was heaven.

  “How are you feeling?” She studied his face, smoothing her hand over his whiskered cheeks and chin, loving the scruffy look.

  “Exhausted, and yet seeing you makes me feel more awake than I’ve been since you left. Does that make sense?” They walked hand in hand out of the airport and to her waiting vehicle. The drive from Seattle International to Diane’s home took a good half hour, but the time sailed by as she listened to Marcus tell her stories of the families she’d left behind in the Congo.

  “Are you wanting a shower, a nap, or food first?” She wasn’t sure how he would be feeling. When she’d arrived, all she wanted to do was get to the hospital and see Diane, but for Marcus it might be different.

  “I’ve been daydreaming about pasta from Luigi’s for the past week, but would love a shower first. And I thought, if you didn’t mind, maybe we could stop at the cemetery so I can pay my respects to Brian and Grace?”

  Charlie reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing hard. “I think that would be perfect,” she said.

  #

  “Do you need me to grab this box?” Marcus asked once they arrived at Diane’s home and he was gathering his luggage from the back of the trunk.

  For a moment Charlie had forgotten about her earlier errand—stopping at her storage locker and grabbing her box.

  “I’ll get it.” She lifted it out of the trunk and noticed Marcus reading the thick black marker labeling it Charlie’s Journals/Childhood Items.

  “What’s in there?” he asked as they walked into the house.

  “My past.”

  “Will you be sharing some of that past with me or keeping it locked away inside like normal?” There was a hint of something in his voice and it struck a cord – he’d known all along she’d been hiding something from him.

  “There’s a lot I need to share with you, tell you, before we go see Diane.” Now that the decision had been made, she wasn’t going to back down.

  “Can I ask a question? If it weren’t for Diane, would you be telling me?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Can it wait till after dinner at least? I’ve waited this long.” His stomach grumbled.

  “Are you upset with me?”

  He frowned. “No. Just...tired.”

  Maybe she was reading too much into it then. Jet lag was always worst when flying west – at least, it was for her. “How about we eat and talk? I’m going to need wine and lots of it,” she admitted.

  His brow rose. Charlie made it a habit not to consume a lot of alcohol. She’d told him once that her father had been an alcoholic and she didn’t want to go down that path.

  Marcus set his luggage down and came toward her, gathering her in his arms.

  “Don’t mind me. I’m a little grumpy.” He said before kissing her nose. “If our conversation requires wine, then it must be serious.”

  “A little. There’s a lot I haven’t told you...that I need to tell you.” She looked down, unable to meet his gaze, but he touched her chin and lifted her face.

  “I’m glad you’ve decided to tell me. I’ve waited a long time, but nothing you say will change how much I love you. Nothing.” He leaned his forehead against hers and tightened his grip around her. “Now, how about you show me to our room and then maybe join me in the shower?” His brows wiggled at the suggestion and she blushed. She led him up the stairs and into their bedroom with the en suite bathroom, and decided to soak in the love they had for as long as she could.

  The rest of the day would be difficult and emotionally taxing, but right now it didn’t need to be.

  #

  With their arms laden with bouquet
s of flowers, Charlie and Marcus walked the pathways of the cemetery toward the plot where Brian and Grace lay buried. They’d spent time picking the blooms out today, stopping at the florist across the street and looking for flowers she knew Brian used to buy Diane, and then a bouquet fitting for a little girl.

  She was glad Marcus was here with her. She hadn’t been back since the funeral, with her time so focused on Diane, and she felt a little guilty for that.

  Leaning against the grave markers were flowers that had long since died. She placed them to the side, then carefully put the ones she’d brought in front of the markers, her heart heavy, but she was unable to say anything that could possibly matter.

  “We see death on a constant basis, and yet it never gets easier,” Marcus murmured beside her. “I was always in awe of Brian—of his dedication not only to his work but to his family. Diane was his life, and their marriage seemed so strong. When I looked at them I would think of us, and imagine what we would be like after being married for as long as they were.”

  Charlie stood and leaned into him. “I used to tease Diane that they had a fairy-tale marriage, that Brian sometimes seemed too good to be true. She would tell me that he was her gift, her reward for getting through the life we’d lived, and that one day it would be my turn, that I would get a gift as awesome as hers.” She placed her head on his shoulder. “You’re my gift, Marcus.”

  He gently stroked her back as they stood there. Charlie wiped at the tears that stained her cheeks and gazed up at the cloud-filled sky. Rain was on the horizon; she could feel it in her bones, and she should have brought an umbrella. She needed to get back in the habit of keeping one with her again.

  She was about to suggest that they leave when she heard footsteps behind them.

  “Charlie?”

  She turned to find Walter making his way over toward her, bouquets in his arm.

  Marcus held out his hand and shook Walter’s as he came along beside them. Charlie just looked at him, unsure of what to say. He’d all but disappeared from Diane’s life since she’d arrived. Sure, he sent flowers and whatnot on a weekly basis to her room, but he never bothered to visit, always calling Nina or her to check in on Diane instead.

  She knew he blamed himself, that it was his doll he’d ordered for Grace that caused Diane’s breakdown. But there was no sense in playing the blame game—bottom line, he’d given up on Diane, he’d left her on her own, and Charlie wasn’t sure she could forgive him for that.

  Which was difficult, because she loved him like a father.

  “The gravestones will have flower holders on the sides,” he said as he laid his own gifts down on the ground beside hers. “I hope you don’t mind that I added some changes to the design after I realized there was no place for flowers to go.”

  While Diane had grieved those first few weeks, it had been Walter and Charlie who took care of ordering the gravestone. In fact, Walter had made all the funeral arrangements until Charlie arrived, since Diane had still been in the hospital, recovering from giving birth and her other injuries from the accident.

  When Charlie hesitated it was Marcus who spoke for her.

  “I think that’s a nice idea, Walter.”

  Charlie finally nodded. “Mags just buried a cup in the ground for Mom’s grave.” It was bittersweet to think of her aunt, especially now. She’d already laid flowers on Mags’s grave, alongside her mother’s and baby Christopher’s.

  Walter nodded. “That’s something Mags would do.”

  They stood there staring down at the ground, each lost in their own thoughts, until Walter cleared his throat. When Charlie glanced up, she caught the sheen of tears in his eyes moments before he wiped them away.

  With a nudge from Marcus, Charlie folded her arm through Walter’s. “I’ve missed you,” she said to him.

  He patted her hand. “I’m sorry.” His voice was thick. “Will you forgive this old man?”

  “Will you stop being a stranger? She needs you.”

  Walter shook his head. “I’m not sure I can yet. It’s my fault what happened to her. How does someone say they’re sorry for that?”

  “You don’t,” Charlie said. “What you do is show her you love her and are there for her.” She looked him in the eyes. “She needs you, Walter.”

  “Will she even know I’m there? I know Nina tries to hide it, but she’s getting worse.” Walter’s forehead wrinkled.

  Charlie’s gaze slid toward Marcus and then downward, but not before she caught the multitude of questions in his eyes.

  “She might. If she’s having a good day. And if she’s not, then at least you’ll know you were there for her, that you didn’t let her go through this alone.”

  “She’s not alone. She has you.” Conflict waged hard in Walter’s features; she could see the fear and the doubt set in.

  Charlie pulled away and crossed her arms. “This isn’t the man I grew up loving, the man I consider my father. I’m not sure I even know or recognize you anymore.” Her jaw tightened.

  “Charlie...” The defeat in Walter’s voice cut deep, but she ignored it.

  “No. I know you feel guilty, Walter. I get it. But you’re not the only one. I should have been there for her and I wasn’t. What if I’d stayed a few weeks longer? I could have; I had the time off. If I’d been there when the package arrived, I might have stopped all of this from happening.” Her voice cracked and her body shook.

  Marcus placed his arm around her. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but this blame game you have going on doesn’t help anyone, let alone Diane, which I gather this is all about,” he said.

  Charlie swiftly looked at him. Did he know more than she thought he knew? The way he said it made her suspicious.

  “You’re right,” Walter agreed. “I feel a tremendous amount of guilt, and the only one it’s hurting is me. Just...give me time, okay?”

  She heard the pleading in his voice, noticed the bags beneath his eyes, the haggard look on his face, the way he was dressed—in jeans and a sweater, not the suit or polished look he always wore in public.

  Walter was hurting. Everything with Diane had taken its toll on him as well, and instead of berating and being upset with him, she should be there for him, like she wished he’d been for her.

  She wrapped her arms around him in a hug and held on tight. She loved this man like a daughter would her father and that would never change.

  “Come see her, please?” she asked him. She wasn’t going to beg, because it had to be his choice, but she wouldn’t let him run away anymore. She’d ask him every day if she had to.

  Walter’s response was to hold her tighter. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no. She’d take it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Charlie! So good to see you again.” Marcello, owner of Luigi’s, grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her his standard kiss on each cheek. “You’re too thin. Are you not eating the food I send to Diane? There’s enough for both of you; I make sure of it. Otherwise, you come in and eat here, yes?”

  “Marcello, if I come in every night I’ll lose my girlish figure.” She winked before leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek.

  “Then I come and drop off food before heading home. I won’t take no for an answer.” His look was stern before he turned toward Marcus. “You, it’s been too long. So good to see you again.” He wagged his fingers at Marcus, who leaned in to give Marcello a hug, slapping his back as he did so.

  “I’ve been dreaming of your pasta for the past week; that has to tell you something.” Marcus grinned, but Marcello was looking at the ring on Charlie’s finger. He reached for it and held her hand high, examining the diamond before whistling his approval.

  “I’m the caterer, yes?”

  “Um, hello,” Charlie teased, “I assumed the reception would be held here.”

  “Of course, of course!” Marcello belly-laughed, drawing the attention of other guests before he placed his arms around them both. “When is the big day?”


  Charlie looked at Marcus before she replied. “We haven’t set a date yet.” She noticed the way Marcus’ lips pursed as if he wasn’t happy with her reply.

  Marcello rubbed his chin. “How is Diane?” he asked, his face grave with understanding. “Still okay that I send her meals every so often?”

  “She loves them, and I do eat with her. Thank you. The nurses are all quite jealous, but your cheesecakes make it up to them.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him Diane ate only nibbles of the food he sent. Her medication lessened her appetite and sometimes even made her nauseous.

  As they sat down, Charlie looked around the place. Diane and Brian had discovered Luigi’s when it first opened, a few years ago. From the moment they’d entered the restaurant, they said they’d both felt like they’d stepped backward into another time, another place, and that was exactly how they’d sold the place to all their friends when they talked about it. Marcello had transformed an old cowboy-boot factory into a rustic Italian eatery, with exposed beams, a main-area fireplace, black-and-white photos of the “old country,” and a few areas to sit comfortably on leather sofas and chairs that ran alongside the dining area.

  Diane introduced Charlie to Marcello once while she was home visiting, and it had been love at first taste. The first time she brought Marcus with her to meet both Diane and Brian, they’d come here for dinner, and since then it was just assumed that Luigi’s would always be part of their visits home.

  There was a connection between Diane and Marcello that Charlie never understood, until Walter confided in secret that Luigi’s had been about to go bankrupt, but thanks to some savvy marketing advice from Diane, he’d turned a profit within months and forever claimed she’d saved his restaurant.