Cold As January

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Cold As January Page 12

by Katie Graykowski


  He opened his mouth but no words came out. He’d spent the better part of the last month working on his graveling speech, but all he could do was stare at January. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “Giles, meet my oldest older brother, Bru. My other older brother, March, has taken over running my bar.” January had gone with the proper etiquette of introducing the oldest person in the room first. That wasn’t lost on Giles. “Bru, meet Giles.”

  Giles held out his hand for her brother to shake, but Bru reared back his fist and punched Giles right in the gut. All of the air went out of his lungs and he fell to his knees. Black spots danced around the edges of his vision.

  “That was for hurting my sister.” Bru stood over him like he couldn’t decide whether to punch him again. Or maybe he was deciding where to punch him next.

  Giles steeled himself for the next blow.

  “Stop.” January stepped between Bru and Giles.

  Giles stood and gently moved her out of the way. He appreciated her coming to his aid, but he needed to take his beatdown like a man. He faced off with Bru. “I deserved that.”

  January rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about men in your time, Faye, but these two are as stupid as they come. Were they this bad in your time?”

  A door slammed.

  “I hear ya.” She turned to her brother. “I got this. I’m willing to hear him out, but if I don’t like what he has to say, I’ll let you kill him, deal?”

  “Wait a minute, I don’t know that I’m comfortable with that arrangement.” Giles knew he’d deserved the punch, but he also had a pretty good sense of self-preservation. Violence never solved anything, but he didn’t think this was the right crowd to lecture to.

  “Shut up.” January didn’t look away from her brother. “Do we have a deal or not?”

  “Fine. I’ll be downstairs. Just yell if he tries anything funny.” Bru turned and stomped down the hallway.

  “When Sweet Louise and your teammates told me your brothers were in a motorcycle gang—”

  “It’s a club, not a gang,” Bru yelled from down the hall.

  Giles lowered his voice. “I didn’t believe them.”

  But they hadn’t been kidding. Bru was a badass. Giles couldn’t help but wonder if it got hot wearing all of that black leather. He didn’t even want to think about chafing. Giles was going to have one hell of a bruise, and it was possible that he’d never be able to breathe deeply again, but January was worth it.

  Now that they were alone again, how did he begin?

  Two full minutes ticked by, and he couldn’t stop staring at her.

  “You came here to talk so talk.” She folded her arms. “I’m a busy woman.”

  He guessed removing the hardware from the doors was extremely important.

  “I was hoping we could have lunch and talk … you know, about us.” He knew that sounded lame, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work properly.

  “What did you bring to eat?” She looked around. “Where’s the food?”

  He sent a silent prayer of thanks to Sweet Louise for insisting he bring food. He had a feeling that was the only thing keeping her from unleashing Bru.

  He turned around to get the basket, but the basket was gone. “Where’s the basket of food?”

  “You left a basket full of food in the hallway?” She shook her head. “The workers have probably eaten everything by now. They’re just like cats—feed them once and they keep coming back for more.”

  “I heard that,” Bru called. It sounded like his mouth was full. “We’re not cats. We’re people—with feelings. These lobster sandwiches are really good by the way.”

  “At least he’s enjoying our homemade fresh lobster salad sandwiches.” Giles fully expected her to throw him out now.

  January looked disappointed about the sandwiches. She touched her belly like he’d let their baby down too. “There was fresh lobster? Where did you get it?”

  “Central Market. They have fresh lobster flown in twice a week.” It took all he had not to go down the hall and rip the lobster sandwich out of Bru’s hands, but he was trying to be nice. Maybe if he played nice with the brother, it would get him somewhere with January. It was a long shot, but that was better than another gut punch.

  “I need this recipe.” Bru slurped something loudly through a straw. “Is this homemade lemonade?”

  Giles exercised his révulsion oculaire muscles. “Yes, I squeezed the lemons myself.”

  “It’s very good.” Bru slurped some more.

  “Thank you.” Giles took a step toward January. “Can we get out of here? We could go somewhere that’s neutral territory.”

  “Like where?” January’s tone said she wasn’t going anywhere with him.

  “Anywhere. Between your brother and your ghost, we have no privacy.” He wanted to get her alone and beg for forgiveness.

  “Nope. We stay here.” She glared up at him. “Why are you here?”

  “I need to apologize. I didn’t mean to hang up on you. My phone dropped the call. I should have called you back as soon as I got to a landline, but I was under the mistaken impression that women need a cool-down period after being upset. I’m just now learning how that’s a terrible idea. I’m excited about the baby and I’d love to be in your life in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”

  He thought it sounded pretty good, all in all.

  “So … what? I’m just supposed to forget about the last few weeks, blindly forgive you, and be happy with whatever scrap of your life you’re willing to throw my way?” January didn’t sound angry so much as hurt.

  “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend. Looking back on it, I can see that I only took from you and never gave anything back. The truth is, I didn’t think what we had was permanent.” He held up his hand to stop her from commenting. “Let me finish. Not because I don’t have feelings for you, but because I was convinced that you only saw me as some fling and you’d tire of me easily. I don’t want what we had to end. I was just saving myself the heartache of missing you when you finally wised up and left me.”

  He hoped she’d say something—or better yet, throw her arms around him and tell him that she was never going to tire of him. Instead, she just stood there waiting for him to finish.

  “For the record, when I got back from Geneva, I did try to contact you. Both your doorman and your bouncer wouldn’t let me near you. I tried following you a couple of times, but your doorman threatened to call the police. I didn’t handle the situation as well as I should have, but I did try.” Again, it was lame, but it was all he had.

  She remained silent.

  “So where does this leave us now?” He wanted to go to her, but the look on her face said that would be a very bad idea.

  She arched her eyebrows like he was supposed to know the answer.

  “Say something.” His heart was beating so fast it almost flew out of his chest.

  “Are you finished? I know how you hate to be interrupted.” January looked like she was weighing the odds of murdering him and getting away with it. She was pretty resourceful, so his money was on yes, she could get away with it.

  “Yes, I’m finished. Just one more thing.” He pulled her against him and brought his lips down on hers. She squirmed a little, but her protest was half-hearted. She snaked her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. He didn’t want to read too much into it, because this part had always been easy. They had chemistry in spades.

  She ended the kiss and stepped back. “This doesn’t change anything.”

  But it had.

  Her defenses were down.

  It was too soon to drop to one knee and propose marriage, but maybe she’d go out to lunch with him. “I love you.”

  He should have told her sooner.

  Her top lip curled in a snarl. “I love you too.” She didn’t sound happy about it.

  His mouth dropped open. She loved him? She … loved … him. It was more than he could ha
ve ever hoped for.

  “Is this homemade peach cobbler?” Bru yelled from down the hall. “And vanilla ice cream? It smells really good. Are these Fredericksburg peaches? Those are out of season.”

  “Is he always like this?” It would be weird having a brother-in-law who was in a biker gang, but holidays would never be boring.

  “No, he’s being nice. Usually by this time, you’d either be dead or bleeding out. I guess Sweet Louise talked him into being on his best behavior. She can be very persuasive.” January avoided making eye contact.

  “Since our lunch was stolen, how about we go out to lunch? Anywhere you’d like.” He knew he sounded pathetically hopeful, but he couldn’t help it. He was pathetically hopeful.

  She’d told him that she loved him, and she couldn’t take that back.

  “How about the hospital cafeteria?” She looked at him like this was some sort of test.

  He shrugged. “Okay. The food’s not very good, but if that’s what you want. I’m happy to take you there.”

  She stepped back and crossed her arms again. “Every time I asked you to take me there, you wouldn’t because the food isn’t that good? I thought you were embarrassed to be seen with me.”

  “Why would I be embarrassed to be seen with a beautiful woman?” Now she wasn’t making sense. Had she really thought he was embarrassed to be seen with her?

  “I’m not like your work colleagues. I don’t have an Ivy League education. I own a bar, I barely finished high school, and I’m the daughter of the founding member of the Devil’s Bastards. I don’t exactly fit in with your friends.” She was completely serious.

  “Is this about Melba Whittley? She’s a snotty old bitch. Did she say something to you?” To his knowledge, they’d only met once, and that was at his office. Dr. Melba Whittley thought her shit didn’t stink, and she was constantly hitting on him.

  “She told me that people like me didn’t belong with the leading knee surgeon in the country.” She tried to mimic Melba’s snotty voice and came very close.

  He threw back his head and laughed. “You almost have her down. Around the hospital, we call her Melba Toast because she’s about as bland as they come. What did she mean, ‘people like you’? I don’t understand.”

  “I think she meant someone who’s as low class as me.” January still avoided his eyes.

  “I grew up in a decrepit single-wide with an out-of-work father. Your childhood was posh compared to mine.” First chance he got, he was going to kill Melba. And he was going to draw it out. Nothing quick and fatal. She needed to hurt. Maybe he’d consult January’s brother on the most painful method.

  “What a bitch.” January shook her head. “I can’t believe I let her get to me.”

  Since she hadn’t commented on his upbringing, she obviously didn’t mind.

  “Melba pretends to be this in-demand general surgeon with an Ivy League education, but she did most of her undergrad at Austin Community College and then transferred her last semester to Stanford. And she’s a mediocre surgeon. She’s on probation right now. She keeps removing the wrong body parts. Go in for an appendectomy and lose a couple of fingers. God, she’s a snotty bitch. Don’t ever let her talk down to you. Don’t ever let anyone talk down to you.” He pulled out his phone. “Want me to call her and bitch her out?”

  “No, I can do it—well, now that I know she really isn’t your friend.” She looked relieved.

  “I hate that you thought I was slumming dating you. That was never the case.” He fisted and unfisted his hands. “We can kill her together. We could call it a bonding ritual.”

  January laugh-snorted and then her stomach rumbled. She put a hand over it. “Baby J is hungry. He or she needs ice cream and beef stroganoff and a crusty French bread.” Mischief glinted in her eyes. “After we eat, can we stop by the hospital so I can show Melba my baby bump?”

  “We can have sex right in front of her too.” Every molecule in his body vibrated with happiness. January was giving him a second chance. It was a new beginning. “Wait, hold up. I have something for you. It’s out in the hall.”

  He grabbed the painting and handed it to her.

  She looked at it and a smile cut across her face. “Who painted this? I love it. Is it for me?”

  “I painted it. I’m a painter—well, I enjoy painting but I haven’t let myself paint in a very long time. Susie told me that I needed to find out who I really am, and I found that I love painting. I always have, but I’ve been concentrating on being a doctor for so long that I didn’t even let myself think about anything else. It’s for you. It’s not a bribe or anything, but I painted it for you.”

  January grinned. “What do you think, Faye, should we try to forgive him even though he hasn’t apologized?”

  The door across the hall slammed twice.

  Giles wasn’t sure if that meant yes or no. “I’m sorry. I haven’t apologized.” He went to January and knelt down. He put his hands on her baby bump and spoke softly. “I’m so sorry, little one. I haven’t treated you or your mother with the love and respect that I feel for both of you. You are wanted and I can’t wait to meet you. Can you put in a good word with your mother? Because she has a lot to forgive me for. Make sure she knows that I’m in love with her and that I can’t live without her.” He kissed her belly and then rose. “Please forgive me, January. I have been a terrible boyfriend and an even worse father to our child. I took you for granted, and I realize now that you did all of the work and that I took advantage. I’ll do better, I’ll be better, just give me one more chance.”

  Another door slammed.

  “Faye’s on board and I trust her judgement. Before I take you back, I’m going to need some serious romance. I want the candy and flowers and poetry and carriage rides and every other completely cliché courting ritual there is. You’re going to have to get your hands dirty and work harder than you’ve ever worked before.”

  “I’m up to the challenge.” He didn’t deserve her, but he was hoping that she never figured that out. “Prepare to be romanced on an epic scale.”

  “I look forward to it.” January wrapped her arms around Giles, and his whole world turned bright and shiny. He’d finally found his happy ending. His life was no longer cold and empty now that he had January.

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  * * *

  Five Months Later

  “How do I look?” January straightened her wedding veil and stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her newly finished closet. She was wearing a white silk maternity wedding dress with a low-cut neckline to show off her pregnant cleavage. She had no idea maternity wedding dresses were a thing, but apparently, they were big business.

  She was headed into her eighth month, but she wanted to get married before Baby Amelia Faye was born—plus, she liked that she and Giles had done conventional in their own way … a hugely pregnant bride and her much older husband to be. They were just another American love story.

  “You look beautiful.” Nina swiped at the tears. “I’m so happy for you. You give me hope. Maybe one day I’ll meet a man who knocks me up, crawls back after acting like an ass, and then insists on getting married in the home we’ve built together. It’s so romantic.”

  “Because I’m so happy for you, I’m willing to overlook this hideous bridesmaid dress. What color is this exactly?” Charisma waved the fabric at January.

  “It’s as close as I could come to the color Exuberant Pink.” January tilted her head left and then right. She did look pretty good, even if she said it herself. “I’m not responsible for the dresses. It was Faye’s idea. Blame her. I think she enjoys the irony.”

  “Speaking of irony, I think it’s time to give her our wedding present.” Laney pulled a large file folder from her messenger bag.

  “I can’t wait to see what she thinks.” Susie clapped and jumped up and down. “It’s so exciting.”

  “It had better not be a cruise, because I’m not allowed to travel
… anywhere. I need to be within an hour of a hospital.”

  “It’s so much better.” Laney held the folder to her chest.

  “Remember when we were driving around looking at houses all of those months ago?” Susie stood next to her and smiled at her in the mirror.

  “Yes.” Of course she did. She could never forget the day she’d first seen her home.

  “Do you remember what drew you to this house?” Susie winked at her.

  “I don’t know. I saw this house and knew it was mine. I just knew, I guess.” They were being very cryptic, and if they didn’t hurry, she was going to miss her very own wedding.

  “As a wedding gift to you, we hired a private investigator who specializes in property history and ancestry to see if there was any more information we could find out about this house and about Faye.” Susie’s eyes misted over and she tried the fanning method, but everyone knew that didn’t work.

  Sweet Louise walked into the room. “Did y’all show her yet?”

  Sweet Louise wasn’t a bridesmaid or even acting as mother of the bride—she was officiating the ceremony, which just made everything extra special.

  “We were just about to show her.” Laney handed the folder to January. “The investigator found that Faye Glover never married, but she had a niece named Leslie Marie Dobson who married Wayne Yarnell Reed. They had a daughter named Sara Jane Miles who married Everett James Jenkowski—”

  “Those were my parents.” January’s hand went to her mouth. “That means that Faye is my great-aunt.” Tears stung her eyes. They were going to ruin her makeup, but she didn’t care. Faye was her great-aunt.

  “I don’t know if she drew you here or some unseen family bond did, but I think she wanted you to have this house.” Laney pointed to the file that January was clutching to her chest like it was a life preserver and she was bobbing along in the ocean.

  “It’s just so perfect. It’s like when an author ties up all of the loose ends in the final chapter of a book.” Sweet Louise swiped at her own tears. “Here I am a mess at my first official wedding. The tears are supposed to come during the ceremony.” She started fanning.

 

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