Page 49 of The Sweet Talker
That unease mushrooms. Is it possible that I’m only here tonight, so he wasn’t stuck with Declan’s cousin, who can’t seem to keep her hands off of him? Nah, that can’t be right. Brody wouldn’t do something like that. What we’ve shared this week was real. Right?
Then why do I have a horrible feeling careening through my blood?
Brody glances at me over his shoulder, his eyes pleading and all worry evaporates. “I’d better go rescue him,” I say to Nikki, and lift up my wine glass. I cross the room and make a beeline for my man.
“Miss me,” I say to Brody as I sidle in next to him.
He puts his arm around me in a show of possession, and Eugenie glares at me. I give her a bright smile as Declan’s mom comes into the room and calls us all to dinner. Brody guides me to the long table that seats at least twenty people and we take our places. Eugenie is seated next to Patrick, but Patrick has his eyes on Nikki, who had an incredible sadness about her that she’s trying to hide.
“Everything looks beautiful,” I tell Donna and she beams. Soon enough we’re all eating, and naturally the conversation turns to hockey, everyone at the table wanting to hear what’s going on with Declan and Brody. I’m almost too full when dessert comes, but it’s apple pie so how can I say no?
After dinner, we all head to the living room, sipping on coffee, and as I snuggle in next to Brody, sleep tugs at me. “I think we need to get you home to bed,” Brody whispers into my ear, and I couldn’t agree more.
We say our goodbyes and Donna and Fred hand our coats back to us at the door. Donna turns to Brody. “I assume we’ll be seeing more of you around Holiday Peak.”
“If someone plays their cards right, you will,” he says and winks at me. I can’t help but laugh, and poke him in the side, but I love his playfulness.
We head outside, and Brody walks me to the passenger side, gentleman that he is. In the car, on our way home—my goodness I’m actually calling my loft, our home—my phone pings. I tug it from my purse and find a message from Kayley. I text her back.
“Everything okay?” Brody asks.
“Yeah, that was Kayley, wishing me a Merry Christmas.”
I lean my head back, and briefly close my eyes, a flood of emotions washing over me.
“You like your new phone?”
“I do, but…”
He casts a quick glance my way his brow furrowed. “But what?”
With my head resting on the seat I roll it toward him, and the rain comes down harder on the roof of the car. But I don’t mind it. It’s cozy and the sound soothes my soul. “Jon, my late…” My words fall off as a lump jumps into my throat. “He left a voice message for me on my old phone.” It’s hard to tell in the dashboard light, but I swear the color just drained from Brody’s face. I cringe, thinking how cruel I was the day we met. He didn’t deserve my outbursts, and now, from the tightening of his body, it’s easy to see he blames himself. “It’s not your fault,” I tell him quickly. “I was the one who dropped it, long before you splashed me.”
“You didn’t back up your phone?”
“I tried. My laptop is so old, and it crashes a lot. I’ve been busy and never had time to get a new one.”
“What did the message say?”
“I don’t know. I could never bring myself to listen to it, and now I’ll never know.”
“Josie,” he says, his voice low, strained, almost unrecognizable. He pulls up in front of the shop, kills the engine and he looks stricken as he turns to me. “I need to talk to you.”
“Can I ask you something first?”
“Okay.”
“Was I…did you…I mean, you didn’t bring me tonight so you wouldn’t be paired with Eugenie, did you?”
His shoulders go stiff. “Who told you that?” he blurts out, his tone full of accusation.
My heart stops beating at his reaction—or rather, overreaction. “Brody. It’s a simple question.”
He sucks in a fast breath and my stomach clenches. He glances down, but I already know his answer is going to crush my already fragile heart. “It’s not what you think.”
“So you didn’t bring me to avoid being paired with Declan’s cousin?”
His head lifts, and he stares straight ahead. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and my blood drains to my toes. I cross my arms as my body begins to shake. “Brody?”