Page 43 of The Sweet Talker
I slide my fork into the dish and take a generous bite. Unable to help myself, I moan around the delicious flavors, and Brody’s growl mingles with the sounds.
“Oops sorry,” I murmur, not at all sorry. It’s fun to torture him, to know I can turn him on from a simple sound. I take another forkful and bite into it, another moan filling the air, and Brody’s eyes narrow in on me.
“You’re definitely going to pay for that.”
I grin, because I can’t wait.
13
Brody
One day until Christmas Eve:
* * *
The last few days with Josie have been the happiest days of my life. When we weren’t in bed together, we were snowmobiling, sledding, enjoying the Farmacy, working to fulfill chocolate orders, or sitting around the tree, watching Christmas movies, where tears might or might not have surfaced. I grin at her now as we finish eating leftovers at her small kitchen table, and I can’t remember what my life was like before she came into it.
Light from the tree in the living room bounces off the walls and adds a shimmer of warmth and coziness to her kitchen as Josie takes her last bite of leftover risotto and exhales, a small smile on her face. She tugs on her yoga pants. “If I keep eating like this, I’m going to roll into the new year.”
I laugh at that. “Stop it, you’re perfect.”
Her smile falls, and her brows pinch together, her mood doing a complete one-eighty. “Brody, when do you leave?”
“We were thinking the day after Christmas, but I’m thinking I might stay a bit longer.”
“Really?” Her eyes light up.
“It depends,” I say and set my spoon down.
She toys with her napkin. “On what?”
“If you let me kiss you when the ball drops.”
“You can kiss me,” she says, her voice low, almost a whisper as another change comes over her. She pushes back in her chair, and I don’t just feel the physical distance, I feel the emotional one as well. Is she trying to put a chasm between us so she doesn’t get hurt? Or is she just not ready to commit to more with me? The fact is, we’ve grown close, extremely close in a short period of time, and even though she’s been happy—has been living again—the fact of the matter is, I have to leave. I’ve never been into long distance relationships before. Heck, I’ve never been into relationships. I want things now that I’ve never wanted before.
“Josie?”
She wipes her mouth with a napkin, her dark eyes wide when they meet mine. “Yeah.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Her lips tighten, and she inches back in the chair more, and I know it’s my imagination, but the temperature in the room seems to have dropped a few degrees. “Sure.”
“Do you…um….us.” I take a breath to pull myself together. “What are you doing tomorrow, for Christmas Eve?”
“Oh,” she says, a measure of relief in her voice. What, was she worried I was going to ask for more, and she wasn’t ready to give it? She said she wanted to start living life again, but that doesn’t mean she’s ready to give her heart to another man. It could very well still, and always, belong to her late husband.
She waves her hand toward her stove. “I was just going to bake, and sit around the tree.”
“Do you think maybe you’d like to go to Declan’s with me? His parents put on a big Christmas Eve dinner every year. I’m expected to be there, but I don’t want to go unless you go with me.”
A smile touches her mouth, and she inches back toward the table. “I think that would be nice.” She picks up her plate. “What should I bring?”
“Damn, I never thought of that. I’ll have to make a quick trip to the stores tomorrow to pick something up.”
There’s a new twinkle in her eyes when she smiles at me. “I have a better idea.”
“Oh?”