Page 3 of The Sweet Talker

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I’m not hitting on her—I don’t think. It’s just that she looks a bit traumatized, and might need someone other than me coming to her rescue.

“No.”

I really don’t know why my chest loosened at that answer. We’re different people from different worlds, and yeah, I can’t forget her instant dislike of me, and maybe even my car.

“You should probably get inside before you freeze to death,” I suggest.

Her head lifts. Speaking of death… As her murderous eyes turn on me, I’m pretty sure she’s thinking about ways to bury me in the slushy snow, or maybe she’s reconsidering the axe throwing, with me as her target. “You think?” she shoots back.

Clearly, we’re off to a good start.

“I’m sorry. Look. Can we start again?”

“You can keep the towel,” Declan says, holding it out for her. She looks at the Seattle Shooters emblem, and her eyes lift. She smiles for the first time, and my heart stills a little in my chest. Jesus, she’s gorgeous—when she’s not contemplating killing me, that is. “Declan Bradbury. I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re famous in this town, and it’s nice to meet you in person.”

“Nice to meet you too, and you are…?”

“Freezing to death. Thanks to your friend.” She searches the snow again, and her teeth clatter a little louder.

I step closer, crowd her, wanting to offer her my warmth but afraid of getting a knee to the nuts. As I crowd her, I breathe in her delicious scent. Cookies and cream and…chocolate. Not just any chocolate. No, she smells like the expensive kind my third stepmother used to put out at Christmas—before she disappeared from my life, taking a little bit of my heart with her.

“I can help you find whatever it is you’re looking for,” I offer.

She stares at the plow as it takes a turn, and for a second I think she might cry. But the anger is back in her eyes when she turns to me. “I don’t…need your help…you’ve…” Choppy words through clattering teeth fall off as a shop door opens behind her, a little bell ringing to alert the staff to a customer.

“Done enough, I know.” Feeling like total crap, I adjust my ballcap as she turns, disappearing into the shop. The delectable scent of warm gooey chocolate fills the street, as the door falls shut behind her.

I stand there for a moment, a little confused at her sudden departure. Then again, it’s possible she was on the brink of hypothermia. I put my jacket back on, reading the sign above the door: The Chocolate Lab. I guess she must work there.

“You been here five whole minutes, and look at you, making friends,” Declan says.

I turn to my buddy, and shrug. “Who the hell was that, anyway?

He looks past my shoulders up and down the street. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you know everyone in this town?”

“She must be new around here. That shop wasn’t here last time I was home.”

His mouth turns up at the corner, presenting me with those double dimples that drive women wild. “Axe throwing?”

“Cut me some slack, I panicked, and what the hell is the matter with you? Why are you smiling like the village idiot?”

“Because I pick her.” He points to the chocolate shop. “She’s the

girl you have to charm to the dinner table.”

I scoff. “Oh, hell no. She’s a man-hater.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that. I thought she was rather sweet.” My jaw drops and he continues with, “She knew who I was and smiled at me.”

“Then you date her.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets, and rolls one shoulder. “No, I think I’ll leave that to you.”

I cover my crotch. “I’m kind of fond of these guys, Declan, and wouldn’t mind them intact when I leave here after Christmas.”

He laughs. “Then I guess you have your work cut out for you.”


Tags: Cathryn Fox Players on Ice Romance