Page 22 of The Sweet Talker

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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?”


Tags: Cathryn Fox Players on Ice Romance