The Sweet Talker

by Cathryn Fox

  “Come here,” Brody says and pulls me into him. He walks me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me. I grin. Who knew he had old fashioned manners? He circles the front and there’s another flutter in my stomach as he slides in next to me and smiles. “Ready?”

  “Still not going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “Nope.”

  I just laugh as he starts the car and we head down the road. As he takes a few turns, my stomach tightens, because I’m beginning to guess where we’re headed and exactly what he’s up to. He pulls up to Santa Claus Land, and I take in a fast breath as memories bombard me.

  “Hey, are you okay?” he asks reaching out to give my hand a little squeeze.

  “Yeah, I just…used to come here.” Every year my late husband and I would visit Santa Claus land. His favorite thing was the maze of Christmas trees. I haven’t been able to visit the place since I moved here. I assumed it would be too hard, the memories too fresh. But sitting here now, listening to all the happy sounds, music, laughter, it surprisingly fills me with a sense of peace. “I’m okay,” I assure Brody as he continues to scan my face, his brow furrowed with worry.

  “You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He jumps from the car and I get out, snow crunching beneath my boots. He’s smiling like a big kid, and I can’t help but think he’s up to something. He turns me and points to the horse-drawn sleigh ride, and I grin.

  “Are we doing that?” Excitement moves through me. I’ve always wanted to take the sleigh ride, but Jon and I always seemed to miss it when we visited. Our timing was never right. Brody nods. “Are you going to be warm enough?”

  He points to his head. “Uh, hat. Ain’t no heat getting through that pompom. I’d wear this under my helmet if Coach let me.”

  I laugh and whack his stomach. I do love his sense of humor and no one has made me laugh, made me feel young and happy and feminine in a very long time. We head toward the horse, and Brody speaks with the driver for a second. He helps me into the seat, and I look behind us. “Where is everyone?”

  “Just us.”

  I eye him, and angle my head. “You planned this for just us?”

  “Still hate surprises?” he asks, and my gaze drops to his mouth, wanting to kiss him again.

  “As a general rule, yes, but you did good.”

  “I’m such a great boyfriend. Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

  I laugh again. “Maybe you’re the lucky one.”

  “You’re right. You’re a catch. My catch.” I eye him and he shrugs. “For the next few days anyway,” he clarifies and reminds me that this fake relationship comes with an expiry date, which I hadn’t forgotten.

  I settle next to him, my insides a squishy mess as he grabs the blanket to cover us. I breathe in the night air and stare at the star-studded sky as the horse takes us down the snowy road.

  I turn to Brody. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I just never got around to it, and it’s more for families and couples. I mean, I have friends here…I just probably wouldn’t ask them to do this.”

  “What else do you want to do that you haven’t done yet?”

  Honestly, there are so many things for couples to do in this town, I have no idea where to begin.

  “Wait,” he says. “Don’t tell me. I’d rather figure it out on my own.”

  I grin up at him as the horse trots along, and we both go quiet, enjoying nature and the night sky. Soon enough, the horse slows and I sit up a little straighter and glance around. I spot Liam in the tree lot.

  “So this was all about getting you a tree.”

  He grins at me. “Maybe it’s about getting you a tree.”

  “Hey, I thought the tree was about you.” I poke him and he snatches up my hand.

  “It is, and you and Miss Mabel. I was thinking we could get a Douglas fir.”

  I stare at him for a moment, incredulously. Has he been asking around about me? “How did you know Douglas fir was my favorite?”

  “I didn’t. It’s my favorite.”

  Not sure if I believe him or not—but why on earth would he lie about that?—I stand. “Come on. Let’s go find a tree.”

  “Can we get one with the down swept branches?”

  “Is there any other kind?” I ask. Okay, he for sure has been asking around. There is no way we have the exact same taste in Christmas trees.

  He jumps up, and how can I not smile at his enthusiasm? It’s contagious and warming, and fills me with life and laughter. With a kind of grace I could only hope for, he hops from the carriage and I’m about to do the same when he puts his hands on my waist and helps me down. I land on my feet, my body flush with his and I stand there breathless for a moment. His head dips and my throat goes dry. Seconds pass, but it feels more like minutes.

  I turn and catch a few people watching us. “Ah, we should… ah…tree.”

  “Right,” he says and quickly steps back, moments before I ignite and burn the entire lot down. We walk to the display, and Liam comes and greets us.

  “Hey Josie,” he says, and his jaw drops when he turns to Brody. “Brody Tucker,” he says. “I heard you were in town.”

  “Hey man, how are you doing?” Liam stands there, completely star-struck, so Brody carries the conversation. “We’re here for a tree, obviously,” Brody says. “Nice lot you have here.”

  Liam shakes his head, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, right sure. Just holler if you need any help. Wait, do you think I could get an autograph sometime?”

  “How about right now?”

  Liam produces a pen and a piece of paper and Brody scribbles his name. Liam is like a giggling child when he hands it back.

  “We’ll find our own way,” Brody says. Liam is still standing there, a goofy grin on his face, as Brody takes my hand and gives a tug.

  “Is it always like that for you?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I don’t mind. I’m nothing without my fans.”

  I nod, liking that about him. We move through the lot, and every now and then, Brody stops to have his picture taken with some people. I stand back and watch him. He’s especially good to the kids, dropping to the ground despite the cold snow, and chatting with them eye to eye.

  He finishes up and shoves his hands into his coat as he walks back to me, a smile on his face, and a gleam in his gorgeous eyes.

  “You’re good with the kids.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, but I’m not buying it. I nudge him, and he turns the conversation to me. “Do you like kids?”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  “You want kids of your own?”

  My throat tightens, pain making it hard to talk. “I used to envision a future with kids.”

  “You don’t now?”

  I give a fast shake of my head and redirect. “You’ll be a good dad.” He makes a face like I said something so ludicrous, he doesn’t know how to process. “What?”

  “I know nothing about being a dad.”

  “Kayley told me your dad is an NHL hall of famer.”

  “She’d be right.” He walks toward a tree and touches the needles. Even with his back to me, I can sense the hurt in him. I guess he and his dad aren’t close and that explains why he’s at his friend’s house for Christmas instead of being with his own family, and I’ll never forget the hurt he was trying to hide when he talked about all the ‘Moms’ in his life. My heart tightens and the sudden urge to give him an amazing holiday comes over me. I didn’t really celebrate last year, after losing my husband. Celebrating felt wrong, living and enjoying life felt wrong, but maybe I can do this for Brody. He glances back at me. “What do you think of this one?”

  “Come on.” I grab his hand and tug, and take him to the back of the tree farm where they keep the biggest and fullest trees. His eyes go wide.

  “We’ll never fit any of these into your place.”
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  “Oh, ye of little faith.” I point to the biggest Douglas fir. “I like this one right here.” I lean into him, and he glances down at me. “I think it’s perfect.”

  “Perfect, yeah,” he says, his eyes on me giving me the sense he’s talking about me, not the tree. A fine shiver goes through me and he tugs me to him to keep me warm, but the shiver had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the man gazing at me, making me remember what it was like to really live, to be happy. Joy wells up inside of me, taking me by surprise, and tears threaten to fall, my emotions all over the place today—because of Brody.

  But I can’t fall for him. Not only is he only here for the holiday, he’s a man with a reputation, and I’m a woman with a late husband. I barely know Brody. Sure, he’s staying with me, and sure he makes me laugh and feel alive again. I don’t believe in love at first sight, and our first meeting was nothing to write home about. It could be a funny story down the road for the grandchildren. Brody was right about that. That thought brings on a small smile, but I quickly wipe it away. This is wrong. Just so wrong.

  Then why does it feel so right?

  7

  Brody

  Four days until Christmas Eve:

  * * *

  Morning light shines into the bedroom, and I pull myself awake. After last night’s horse-drawn carriage ride and picking out a tree, we had fun at Santa Claus Land, and came back here to watch a Hallmark movie. I might have made a big deal about Josie forcing me to watch, but whatever. We all know I like sappy Christmas movies, and watching it with Josie made it even better. In fact, doing anything with Josie by my side breathes new life into me, into everything we’re doing. I smile as I think of her. I love the way her laugh wraps around me, and how the warm chocolatey scent of her skin drives me crazy for a taste. I swear if I don’t soon get another, I might spontaneously combust.

  Picking a tree out with her last night filled me with a warmth I’m not familiar with, and I love that she decided on a ginormous Douglas fir that will eat up her entire living room. My Christmases were mostly spent alone, and the one thing I learned early on is that it’s not the tree, or the gifts under it—it’s the people around it that make Christmas special. I can’t wait to sit around the big Douglas fir tree with Josie and Mabel on Christmas morning. The tree should be delivered later today, and since Josie doesn’t have a single ornament, or if she does, they’re in storage somewhere, I’m going to get supplies to make our own tonight before the tree gets delivered.

  Yesterday she had to work late because of me. I was the one to put all the orders in, delivered to friends and family in the Boston area. She had to get a new phone because of my stupidity, and since I can’t come right out and tell her I found hers, or give her the money to pay for the replacement, buying a shit-ton of chocolate was my only option to make up for my momentary lack of judgement. A measure of guilt eats at me as I look at my travel bag on the floor, her phone tucked safely inside it.

  As if sensing I’m awake, Miss Mabel claws at the door, and I jump up, tug on some clothes and greet her quietly. I’m sure Josie hasn’t slept in since getting the dog, and I like helping her out. Being with Mabel isn’t a hardship. She’s a loveable girl who just needs a bit of training.

  Her tail wags wildly when I open the door, and I hush her. “Let’s let your mom sleep in,” I say. The word mom makes me smile. Yesterday Josie said I’d be a good dad and I balked at the idea. The truth is, I want what my friends have. I just don’t know how to get it, and there’s something about me that drives women away. Everyone eventually leaves. Look at my own mother, and my stepmothers. I was never enough for them.

  Would I be enough for Josie?

  Whoa! Where the hell did that thought come from? I barely know her. Sure, I like everything that I do know about her, and it’s easy to tell she’s a good person with a good heart. Which makes me wonder why she’s still single. She’s a real catch and any guy would be lucky to call her his.

  I’d be lucky to call her mine…and not in a pretend way.

  My stomach tightens. Jesus, am I really thinking about this?

  I shake my head to clear it. I’m going down a rabbit hole I have no right to go down. She’s a nice girl—not at all the grouch I thought she was when Declan picked her out for me. I don’t want to get involved with her. Don’t want to? Correction, I do want to, I just can’t. I mess everything up and I don’t want to mess her life up.

  What if I didn’t screw things up with her? What if I did everything right and she left anyway?

  “Come on, girl,” I whisper, and grab Mabel’s leash. I text Josie to let her know we’re heading out, so she doesn’t wake up and worry I’ve dognapped Mabel. I quietly open the door and we head outside into the cold, which Mabel seems to love. She jumps into the snow, runs her face through it, and I take joy in the sight of her playing. We walk to the park, and do some training, then off to the grocery store for tree supplies. The streets are quiet this Sunday morning and I’m able to move through them quickly without stopping for too many autographs.

  By the time we make it back to the loft, Josie is pouring a generous amount of coffee into a big mug. I take one look at her in the kitchen, her hair a tumbled mess down her back, and wearing baggy PJ pants and a T-shirt. She turns to me as I admire her, a smile on her face. My heart lurches. When was the last time someone looked at me like they were truly happy to see me? I’ve been with lots of different women, but the warm, happy smile on Josie’s face is genuine, unrehearsed, and it hits me differently. She hands me her cup of coffee and a strange, unfamiliar feeling courses through my veins. It wraps around my heart and tugs me off balance.

  My God, I really like this girl. Is it possible that we could be more than friends, that I wouldn’t mess it up, that she wouldn’t eventually leave?

  “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft and sleepy, and so damn sexy I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself in check. I hold the cup up, and while I’m working to keep my shit together, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like waking up with her every day, coming home to her every night.

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you. I haven’t had a cup yet. Didn’t want to wake you up by banging around in the kitchen.”

  “You’re sweet.” I stand there dumbfounded. I’ve been called a lot of things, but never sweet. Sweet talker yes, but not sweet. She bends to pet Miss Mabel. “Hey girl, did you have fun with Brody?” Mabel’s tail wags harder and she abandons her mom, and comes back to me. “Traitor.”

  “She knows a good thing when she sees it,” I tease.

  “Yeah, she does.”

  My head snaps up, and I catch the soft smile, the almost dreamy look on her face when our eyes meet. She takes a breath and exhales slowly, her focus shifting to the bag in my hand—like she needs the distraction. “What did you buy?”

  I hold the bag up. “Tree decorations. I wasn’t sure if you had any, and I thought we could do homemade stuff.”

  I set the bag on the counter, and take out the popcorn, and cranberries. She goes perfectly still when she sees them. Shit, she hates this idea. “We can get bulbs, I just thought…” I’m about to pack the stuff back up again when she puts her hand on my arm.

  “No, I love it, Brody.” She lifts her head, her brow furrowed. “It’s funny, you seem to know everything I like.”

  I shrug. “Maybe we just like the same things.”

  She picks up the bag of cranberries. “This is exactly how I like to decorate.” She smiles, and I guess she’s remembering happy times.

  “When I was little, we used to make gingerbread men and hang them too.”

  “We can do that, but I suggest we hang them high.” I point to Mabel. “Otherwise, we’re likely to wake up to a very full dog, and a bare tree.”

  She laughs at that and the sound goes through me. “I never thought of that.” Her nose crinkles “Maybe this year we’ll pass on that idea. Perhaps we can do it next year, when she gets older, an
d is better trained.”

  Next year? Will I be back in town next year? Is she suggesting that or is it simply wishful thinking on my part?

  “I don’t know, Josie.” I make a tsking sound. “I think gingerbread is tempting no matter a dog’s age, or a guy’s age. I’m twenty-eight, and I can’t be trusted around them.”

  “You are kind of like a big kid.” She chuckles quietly. “I like that, though.”

  My phone pings, and I pull it from my back pocket. I read the message from Declan. I lift my head to find Josie still staring at me. “Do you have skates?” I ask.

  “I do. Why?”

  “Because I thought we’d go downhill skiing.” She frowns. “I’m joking.” I hold my hand up before she can say anything. “Smart ass, I know. Let me try again. Want to go skating? Declan and Nikki are heading to the outside rink, wherever that is, after lunch.” She hesitates, and when my heart sinks, it becomes abundantly clear that I hate the idea of not spending every waking moment with her—as well as sleeping, but that’s a different story. “You must have to work?”

  “I can take today off. The store is open because it’s the holidays, but I have part time staff.”

  “You just don’t like skating?”

  “I just haven’t done it in a while.”

  “We don’t have to. I’ll tell Declan we’re busy.”

  “No,” she says quickly. “First, I’m not keeping you from your friend, and second, I think it sounds like a fun idea, and it’s been a long time since I’ve done fun things.”

  “Sweet,” I say, and she stands there and grins at me as I text Declan back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You’re just so full of energy, and you take pleasure in everything. It’s like the world is just a big playground to you.”

  I tuck my phone away. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Not at all, Brody. I like it a lot, and to be honest…” She looks down for a second, a wave of sadness overcoming her. “It’s just…everything about you is a reminder that life is meant to be lived.”