The Sweet Talker

by Cathryn Fox

  Now it’s my turn to frown, not really understanding what life events took her to a place where she felt she wasn’t living. I hate that. I hate that she feels life is passing her by. I’m about to pull her into my arms and offer comfort, when she turns from me.

  “I’ll make us some breakfast.” I shut my mouth as she purposely switches subjects. She doesn’t want to talk about her life, and that’s fine. I won’t push, but I damn well plan to make every moment with her count, and bring a smile to her face every day while I’m here. If past events have been holding her back, I plan to help her move forward.

  “How about we go out? We can grab some bagel sandwiches at Coffee Klatch.”

  “That sounds nice, actually.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “Wait, how do you know bagel sandwiches are my favorite?”

  “I have my ways,” I tease. I honestly had no idea. I suggested them because they’re my favorite.

  She angles her head and eyes me. “Who have you been talking to?”

  I laugh. “No one. Honest.”

  “Hmmm…” She laughs, but there is doubt in her eyes. “I’ll let it go for now.” She glances at her pajamas. “Just let me get cleaned up. I’ll be super-fast.”

  I stare after her as she heads down the hall, and after a fast shower, and a quick blow-dry she reappears dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting sweater. Her face, free of makeup, looks freshly scrubbed and her hair is loose and still a bit damp around her shoulders, giving her a sexy, just crawled out of bed look. I like it. A lot. I just wish I was the one crawling out of bed with her.

  “That was fast,” I say.

  “I’m very low maintenance.”

  She winks at me and goes about filling Mabel’s bowls with water and food. I laugh at that. Most girls I hang out with wouldn’t be caught dead without makeup. Which is ridiculous. It’s not the makeup that makes a person attractive, just like it shouldn’t be the jersey I wear that appeals to women. Josie doesn’t seem like the type to want a guy because he wears an NHL jersey.

  “Do you watch hockey?” I ask, the question jumping out of my mouth.

  “I used to. I don’t anymore. I enjoyed watching Declan because he’s from Holiday Peak.”

  She puts her jacket on and tugs on a hat. “Josie, can I ask you something?”

  She looks a bit hesitant as we say goodbye to Mabel and head out the door. “I guess.”

  “Seems to me you used to do a lot of things. What changed?”

  She goes quiet, too quiet as we step out into the cold and walk toward Coffee Klatch, and once again, I realize I hit a nerve. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “I lost my husband,” she says so quietly, I’m not even sure I heard her right. “Last year.”

  The pain in her eyes hurts my heart. “I’m…so sorry, Josie. I didn’t know.”

  “Of course, you didn’t. How could you?” She looks around the snow-covered streets, the lost look on her face hurting my heart. “I moved here for a fresh start.”

  “But have you…started?”

  She looks at the ground. “No, not really.”

  All the pieces known as Josie—her not moving forward, not having fun, no kids in the future—begin to fall into place, and something powerful, something almost blinding surges inside me. The need to protect her, do for her…be there for her, nearly takes me to my knees.

  “Josie?”

  “Yeah.”

  Loss is hard and she might not be ready to move forward just yet, so I’m careful with my next question. “Do you want to start again?”

  Her smile is wobbly as she glances up at me. “I’m not sure what I want, Brody. All I know is I’ve been having fun with you, doing things I stopped doing, because maybe I shouldn’t be having fun, shouldn’t be with another guy. Does that even make any sense?”

  I nod in quiet understanding. My mother left me, she didn’t die, but I understand loss. “You don’t want to dishonor his memory.”

  She nods, and blinks rapidly, no doubt working to keep the tears away.

  “I didn’t know your late husband, but I can only imagine he was a great man. He’d have to be for you to choose him, and because he was great, don’t you think he’d want you to move forward, find a happy life for yourself?”

  She glances at her boots. “I…just don’t know.”

  “Did he ever say that to you? Is it not something you guys discussed?”

  “No.”

  “Was his death sudden?”

  “Car accident. He died at the hospital. He…” She stops talking like she can’t bring herself to say what’s eating her up inside.

  We stop outside Coffee Klatch. “I know in my heart he’d want you to be happy and not let life pass you by. You want that too, don’t you?”

  “I want—” Before she can finish, the door opens and out walks Patrick.

  “Good morning,” he says with a smile. I tug Josie closer, and much different from our first embrace, her body softens, melts against mine—something inside her shifting. While I’m not sure what she was going to say to me a second ago, there’s a part of me that understands she wants to live life, but is too afraid. I’m a chicken shit myself when it comes to relationships. But maybe I don’t want to be anymore. Maybe I’m just damn tired of that bullshit, and maybe, just maybe, the reason behind all that is the woman in my arms.

  So, what are you going to do about that, Brody?

  8

  Josie

  I wobble in my skates and I’m seconds from going down when Brody puts his strong arm around me and anchors me to his body. I laugh up at him, loving the power and strength in his touch, the way he’s quick to come to my rescue. It’s been a long time since a man’s touch gave me a sense of comfort and security.

  “It’s not like riding a bike,” I joke.

  “You like biking?”

  I nod. “I used to.”

  “We can do that later.”

  I shake my head. “You’re crazy. The streets are snow-covered. If I don’t break my neck on this rink, I’ll definitely break it on a bike.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “You have enough for the two of us,” I say, as some young kid speed skates past us, leaving us in his dust. “I hate that kid,” I say and laugh.

  Brody laughs with me. “Future NHL star in the making right there, my friend.” I smile, happy that Brody and I are friends.

  I want more…

  Oh boy.

  “Brody,” Declan calls from the other side of the rink, a group of kids around him. “How about a pick-up game?” He glances at me, his eyes questioning.

  “While I appreciate you not wanting to leave me alone to face plant, go play. I’m going to get a hot chocolate and introduce my backside to that bench right there.”

  He laughs, and it’s so contagious that I laugh with him. Before I even realize what’s happening, he bends and puts his lips on mine. His mouth is cold at first, but it doesn’t take long for it to warm up as he deepens the kiss. I stand there, immobilized, unable to think or breathe, aware of our public display of affection, and the attention it’s garnering. He finally breaks the kiss and backs up.

  “What was that for?” I ask, my voice a low, breathless whisper. At least with all my layers on, he can’t see the chain reactions going on in my body.

  He looks past my shoulders, a grin toying with the corners of his mouth. “I thought I saw Patrick.”

  I glance over my shoulder. “I don’t see him.”

  “That man is like Houdini, one minute he’s there, the next he’s gone.”

  “Uh, huh,” I say, and he gives me a sexy grin as he skates away, backward, putting my wobbly efforts to shame. My lips continue to tingle as I glide to the boards. I search the crowd again, even though I know Patrick is nowhere to be found. Brody kissed me because he wanted to. My insides flutter, and while the kiss was a surprise, I can’t deny it was a welcome one. I make my way to the pop-up hot chocolate stand and g
et a drink, with extra marshmallows, of course.

  I plop down onto one of the benches and sip as I scan the rink, catching sight of Declan and Brody set up on one end, playing hockey with a group of kids of all ages. Brody takes a shot, even though he plays defense in the NHL, and the puck goes into the net. He throws his hands up.

  “I have no equal,” he says, and Declan grabs him and puts him into a headlock, encouraging the kids to rub their knuckles over his head. Laughter fills the air and my insides squeeze, loving his antics, and how much the kids love him for them. My ovaries clench, the old biological clock ticking, when he picks up one of the smaller kids and starts skating toward the net, like he’s going to use him for a puck. The other kids chase him down, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Mind if I sit here?”

  I glance up to find Nikki standing there, a hot chocolate in her hand. I don’t know her well, other than she’s a hair stylist at Chatters, where gossip truly runs rampant. She’s come into the store a few times, and she’s always pleasant and sweet. I tap the bench.

  “I’d love the company.”

  She sits next to me, and we both go quiet as we watch the excitement on the ice. “So, you and Brody, huh?” she says breaking the silence.

  “It’s not what you think,” I say, my voice low, not wanting anyone around us to overhear. “He’s just helping me out with something.”

  She chuckles. “I heard he’s working with Mabel.” There’s a gleam in her eye that says she knows more is going on, but I appreciate her not pushing it. People are going to think what they want, and we fed the rumor mill with that kiss. “It’s nice to see you with someone, Josie.” Her voice is full of kindness and sincerity. “From what Declan says, Brody is one of the good guys.”

  I nod in agreement and warmth spreads through my chest. He is one of the good guys. Even Miss Mabel thinks so. “He’s got quite the reputation, though. You know, as a sweet talker.”

  She laughs, and her big blue eyes glisten. “I think it’s just going to take the right woman for him to settle down.”

  “What about Declan?” I ask. Brody mentioned something about Declan spending time with his girl, Nikki. “Are you two a couple?”

  She gives a humorless chuckle. “He’s known as the heartbreaker, Josie.” She takes a sip of her drink and stares straight ahead. “We’re just friends. We go way back.”

  I get the sense she might want more, but go quiet. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to say anything.

  Brody comes skating over, tugging an empty water bottle from his jacket. He cracks the lid, tips it, but nothing comes out.

  I hand him my cup. “It’s hot, but it’s wet.”

  He takes a sip, hands it back, and wipes his mouth with the back of his glove. “Hey Nikki,” he says. “Nice to finally meet you.”

  “You too,” she says, and Brody looks back at me. He drops to his knees and bites the tip of his gloves to remove them.

  “You can’t go back out there with this untied.” He puts my foot on his lap and takes my laces into his big hands. Even though it’s an innocent gesture, everything in what he’s doing sends warmth surging through me, and it’s weird, because even though there’s nothing intimate in tying my laces, it feels far more intimate than that last kiss, creating a new kind of comfort and closeness between us. Nikki chuckles. I turn to her as she sits there staring at me, a wildly wicked grin on her face.

  “I actually wasn’t planning on going back out there,” I manage to say to Brody. “I’m happy to sit here and watch you guys play.”

  “You sure?” Blue eyes meet mine, and my traitorous body ignites. He leans into me, his lips close, the scent of hot chocolate on his breath. “You want to sit it out?”

  “I’m perfectly happy right here.”

  He moves closer, and my heart beats a little faster as his lips close over mine. He gives me a fast kiss, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like it’s something we do all the time, and when he breaks it, I can’t quite seem to fill my lungs.

  “Just let me go score one more goal and I’ll be back.” He touches my face, gently runs his thumb over my cheek, and my body ignites.

  I try to sound normal, unaffected, but fail miserably. “They’re kids, Brody. For God’s sake, let one of them score.”

  He rubs his knuckles over his head. “Every single one of those knuckleheads gave me a knuckle sandwich.” His indignant attitude—fake as it is—combined with his childlike enthusiasm, pulls a laugh from Nikki and me. “Now they’re going to get what they have coming to them.”

  “My God, he’s funny,” Nikki says when he skates away, and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away. I sit there grinning, like the village idiot no doubt, my insides a hot mess from that kiss and his adorable playfulness.

  Nikki gives me a little nudge. “You know, you two make a cute couple.”

  “We’re not…” I let my words fall off. We’re not a real couple, we’re just pretending to be one. Sure, our chemistry is off the charts, and now suddenly he’s kissing me every chance he gets. We might be faking it, yet I can’t help but think there is more going on here. As I consider that, something inside me shifts, softens, allows me to entertain the idea of us being a real couple. An incredible warmth goes through me, melting my darkest corners. Was he right when he said my late husband would have wanted me to move on, to be happy? I never wanted to, never had the urge to until Brody. I’ve kept myself so closed off, life just passing me by, but Brody has given me a taste of what it’s like to live again…feel again.

  Out on the ice, Brody scores and his cheers are louder than anyone’s, and the kids are loving it. So are the adults. I don’t miss the way the single ladies, not to mention a few of the married ones, are admiring him. A sudden burst of jealousy moves through me, but I have no right to feel it. He isn’t mine and I’m not his.

  “Yeah, you’re not a couple at all,” Nikki says, and I turn to her to find her grinning, like she knows something I don’t.

  “We’re friends,” I clarify. “Like you and Declan.”

  She exhales and nods, “Yeah, like me and Declan.” She looks down and there’s a deep sadness about her when she adds, “But unlike me and Declan, he just kissed you. Or did I just imagine that?”

  My hand flies to my lips. “We’re just pretending.” I can tell myself that all I like, but there was nothing fake about Brody’s kiss. It was sweet and passionate and natural and easy. It felt…right. I wait for the guilt to hit, and it does, just not as hard as the first couple of times.

  “The last time I saw a pretend kiss like that was at a wedding, right after the couple said, ‘I do.’”

  “I…wait…what?”

  She leans into me. “None of this is my business, but you should try to be honest with yourself. We don’t always get second chances at love, and I’d hate to see you let something slip out of your hands.” With that, she pushes to her feet and makes her way to the rink. She skates over to the guys, and Brody turns to me. His smile turns me inside out, and I know I’m in real trouble here.

  He comes over to me. “Want to head back, see if the tree’s been delivered?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I say, and wave to my friend Mabel as she glides onto the ice. A sense of place and family comes over me. All these people took me in when I was lost, and they’ve made this town a home for me. Now it’s time for me to make my loft a home too, and as I take in Brody’s smile, I realize there isn’t anyone I’d rather decorate my tree with today.

  Does that mean I’m ready for a second chance at love?

  My heart thumps a little harder and the air whips at my face as we make the short trek back to my place on foot, and when we reach the back door, and find our gorgeous tree is leaning against the house, I squeal a little. “It’s here!”

  “Get the door for me, and I’ll carry it up.”

  I open the door and let him go first. At the landing, I slip around him, our bodies touching, sending heat
arching through me, and I open the loft door. Mabel is right there, greeting us with a wagging tail.

  “Back up, girl.” She backs up, giving Brody room to carry the tree to the living room. I set the stand for him and he puts the tree in. I drop and tighten the screws to hold it upright. We both stand back and admire the oversized tree that eats up my whole living room.

  “I love it.” Mabel barks at the tree, not knowing what to make of it.

  “Hey girl,” Brody says and drops to his knees to pet her. “It’s just a tree, nothing to be afraid of.” Mabel settles a little and leans into Brody, her big protector. “Why don’t I take her out for a minute before we get started?”

  “I’m sure she’d appreciate that.” He stands and I say, “I would too.”

  “Gotta keep my girls happy.” He makes a huffing sound. “Being the world’s most awesome boyfriend sure takes a lot of work.”

  “I’ll have a nice hot cup of coffee waiting for you when you get back.” Without even realizing what I’m doing, I lift my mouth to his and go up on my toes. He puts his hands on my arms, and presses his lips to mine. I part for him, and a moan crawls out of my throat as he slides his tongue in to play with mine. A loud bark interrupts the intimate moment, and I go back down on my feet.

  “What was that for?” he asks, the blue in his eyes a bit darker, the want and need reflecting mine.

  Without even turning, I jerk my thumb toward my window. “I was sure Patrick was peeking.”

  His grin is slow, devilish. “He’s been doing that a lot.”

  “I know. I don’t know what his problem is.”

  “Me neither.” He exhales loudly, feigning frustration, like this whole thing is a hardship. “But if we have to keep on kissing to keep this ruse going, then we have to do what we have to do.”

  “It makes me want to dig my heels in, you know.” My lips twitch as I try not to smile. “Really drive the fact home that we’re in a relationship.”

  He nods in agreement. “I’m stubborn like that too. The more he pushes, the more I want to push back. If push comes to shove, and we’re left with no choice, I’ll take you to that bedroom. I’ll do what it takes to drive the point home.” Mabel barks. “But first, a potty trip.”