Page 42 of The Sweet Talker
He nods and I grab a box and place the delicate pieces of chocolate in. As he pays for it, my mind goes to Patrick. While I’d liked to tell him that Patrick is interested in Nikki, I’m not sure it’s my place. I think it’s best if Brody talk to him.
After he pays, he heads out, and my gaze follows him, looking for signs of Brody’s car. Soon enough, Patrick is back, and after he leaves, Kayley follows him out and I close the shop. My feet hurt by the time I head to the stairs leading to my loft and delicious—familiar—scents reach my nostrils.
What is going on?
I hurry up the stairs and when I open the door and find Brody standing over my stove, Mabel at his feet as he wipes his hands on one of my old aprons. My heart soars.
“What did you do?”
He spins, his eyes wide and Mabel’s tail wags as she comes running to me. I pet her and Brody’s gaze flies to the clock. “You’re done early.” He looks flustered, and a bit panicky.
I step up to him, and try to see around his body, but he blocks me. “What are you making?”
“Stop it. It’s a surprise.”
I catch scent of my favorite dishes from home, and the pieces of the puzzle start to fit together. “Brody, did you video chat with my parents this morning to find out what my favorite foods were?”
“Maybe,” he says, non-committal. “Maybe not.”
That’s what he was doing with my tablet. How incredibly sneaky and sweet of him. I throw my arms around his shoulders. “This…this is what you’ve been up to all day? Ohmigod, I can’t believe it.”
He picks me up, and kisses the top of my head. “Wait, what did you think I was up to?”
He sets me down and glances at me. “I thought you were skiing with Declan, but then he showed up at the shop.”
“If you must know. I drove to three towns to find the perfect fondue pot and get the ingredients to make you this meal. Now why don’t you sit down and I’ll pour you a glass of wine.”
My heart thumps hard in my chest as I take a seat, and call Mabel over, but she’s not about to leave Brody’s side, not when he keeps feeding her cheese. “Why did you go through all this trouble?”
“It’s no trouble at all, and I could tell how much you missed your family and I thought if you can’t go to them, I could at least bring a piece of home to you.”
“Brody, you’re so—”
“Sweet, I know, I know.” He gives me a playful wink. “Just doing what any good boyfriend would do.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say as he hands me a glass of merlot.
“If a guy isn’t doing things like this for you, Josie, maybe he’s not the guy.”
I chuckle, but it holds no humor, because I’m not sure there’s a guy out there who could compare to Brody, who is only pretending to be my boyfriend. He sets the fondue pot on top of the brass holder, a candle lit underneath, and puts a tray of cubed bread beside it.
“Carbs, mmm, my favorite.”
He removes his apron, and takes a sip of wine, and I watch him, realizing I could simply stare at him all day long and never get bored. He sits, and pokes the bread cube with the skewer, coats it in cheese and brings it to my mouth. I take a hearty bite and moan as my eyes roll back in my head.
“I haven’t had this in so long, Brody. It’s so good.”
“If you moan like that again,” he begins through clenched teeth. “I’ll be abandoning this whole surprise and taking you straight to your bed.”
I laugh at that. “While I like the idea of that, you spent too much time and effort for us to let this go to waste.” I lean into him. “But when we’re done, I promise to moan for you just like that, if you want.”
He briefly closes his eyes. “I want. I want a lot, and you know, I think tonight I might just break the world record for the fastest eater.” I laugh as he jumps up and plates saffron risotto with shrimp. “Your mom said this is traditionally served with luganighe, or as we like to call it here, sausage.” He grins. “But I couldn’t find any traditional luganighe
and she said you liked it with shrimp, so prawns it is.”
“It’s perfect.”
“You might want to save judgment until you try. This was my first time making risotto.”