Sweet Talk Boxed Set (Ten NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes Research plus BONUS Novel) (48 page)

“I’ve reconsidered our situation. Almost a decade of life together is too much to throw away because of some minor differences in what we want.” Nick took a deep breath, carefully lowered to one knee—wincing upon contact, she knew, from the idea of his designer dress slacks touching a dirty sidewalk—then retrieved a ring box from his pocket and held up as he snapped it open. “Trish Lynn Howell, will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”

She must be getting Punk’d. It was the only explanation, because this was the most fucked up shit she could think of happening. For years, her greatest desire was to be engaged to the man she loved and start the next chapter of their life together. Now she had two proposals in as many weeks that she
didn’t
want, and in two days, she planned on moving to Chicago to start a new and very
non
-affianced life.

What. The. Fuck.

“What do you say, Trishy?” Standing up, he thoroughly brushed off the knee of his pants before straightening and giving her his attention. “Let’s go home. I took care of your flight. All you need is an overnight bag, and we’ll have what little is left of your things shipped back.”

When she finally opened her mouth to speak, the lack of emotion—either good or bad—surprised her. Her words were robotic, matter-of-fact. “I’ve always hated it when you call me that.”

Turning away from him, Trish walked back into the bar and went to check on the three tables of customers that remained. They’d been done with their food some time ago, but they were regulars who enjoyed getting together with friends once a week for a couple hours so she knew they wouldn’t be in any hurry to leave.

“Ladies, can I get you anything or has the handsome Mr. Jason been attending your needs during my break?”

A streak of sunlight shone into the bar and vanished as Nick opened the pub door and moved directly behind her, speaking as though she hadn’t just asked her customers a question that he’d be interrupting. “I thought you loved that nickname I gave you. I used it all the time and you never said anything.”

She pointedly ignored him while the four women discussing their gardens, one of which was none other than Mrs. Madsen, paused long enough to smile up at her and let her know they had everything they needed at the moment. “Great,” Trish said. “Just give me a holler if you need a refill on anything.” Then she answered Nick without looking at him as she grabbed up a few dirty dishes on her way to the bar. “I hated it. It sounded like I was a baby, which in retrospect I suppose is appropriate considering that’s how you treated me.”

Nick sputtered as he trailed behind her. “What the hell are you talking about? I never treated you like a baby.”

Trish rounded the counter and handed the dishes off to Jason when he reached for them. “On the contrary, Nick. You always patronized me and did things for me. You ordered my food and drinks in restaurants whenever we went out with other people, I wasn’t allowed to balance my own checkbook or pay my own bills. You treated me like I didn’t have the sense God gave me to make any decisions that might actually matter or that might embarrass you in front of our friends.”

Jason sidled up close to her with his body turned slightly into hers as he stared at Nick through steely blue eyes. She’d never seen Jason like this before. Gone was the flirtatious man ready with a quick smile and playfully inappropriate compliment. In his place stood an intimidating man with his over-six-foot athletic build and muscular arms folded over his broad chest, stretching his black Fort Atkinson Blackhawk Football t-shirt to max capacity. “There a problem here, sweetheart?”

“No problem, Jason,” she said easily. “My ex just wanted to stop in and propose, but now he’s leaving to head back to New York, aren’t you, Nick?”

She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she felt Jason tense even more beside her. “Your ex?” He said the words as one might say “putrid waste.” Then he clearly directed the next part at said waste. “Don’t let the heavy door castrate you on the way out. Or do. Whatever.”

Nick returned Jason’s glare. “Sweetheart?” he practically sneered. “After everything we had, Trish, I can’t believe you moved on so easily. Especially with some small town jock who sticks around to relive his glory days in order to feel like he’s worth something.”

Trish flattened a palm against Jason’s chest just as he’d lowered his arms and likely prepared to launch over the bar. Then she leaned in and hissed, “Goddammit, Nick, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t get to come to
my home
and insult
my friends
.” Without taking her eyes from Nick, she said, “Jason, please give me a minute.”

“I don’t think—”

“
Jason.
”

“Fuck. Tony’s gonna have my balls for this,” he grumbled. “I’ll be right over there if you need me.”

Jason had directed his last statement to Trish, but it was obvious it’d been a warning meant for Nick. Regardless, she wouldn’t need his help. For the first time in almost ten years, Trish saw her ex-boyfriend clearly, and she was confident on how to handle him.

“Nick, who I’m dating or even
whether
I’m dating, is no longer your concern. Just as who you may or may not be dating is none of mine. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but it’s time for you to go.”

“You’re not even going to let me state my case?”

She sighed. Even marriage proposals were treated as possible business mergers where he thought it was possible to win-over the other party. If letting him try and fail was the only way to get rid of him, so be it. “Fine. State your case, and
then
you can go.”

Nick’s face soured. “I don’t like that you’ve already made up your mind, that you won’t like what I have to say.”

She shrugged and began the task of removing glasses from the soapy sink and dunking them into the sanitizer. “Then you know where the door is.”

“Okay, I get it,” he said hastily, holding his hands up like white flags. “Trishy—I mean,
Trish
, I’ve done a lot of thinking during our separation. I realize now that feeling like I needed to stay in the neighborhood where I grew up was a case of cold feet, not to mention unfair.”

She cocked a hip out and crossed her arms. “And selfish.”

He offered her a clipped nod, not thrilled at her interjection. “My point is, there’s no reason we can’t compromise and find an area we like that has houses instead of apartments. Then we both have what we want and we’re both happy.”

Trish couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You don’t get it, Nick. I didn’t just want a house. I wanted us to raise our family in a house outside of the city. Something with a big yard where our kids could play and grow and we could enjoy barbeques with our friends. Houses in the city have front stoops that lead to sidewalks and there’s no room for kids to play or to put a grill out.”

He frowned. “I don’t even know how to grill. Why is that so important to you?”

“We come from two different worlds, and in the beginning, I wanted the same kind of life you did. I loved the excitement of the city and everything it offered. But somewhere along the line that changed, and when we talked about our future, I thought you had changed along with me.”

A sense of utter calm flowed through her as an epiphany rose out from the mist of confusion she’d been roaming around aimlessly in for the last several months. “You’re nothing of what I need in a partner, Nick. And if you take a close look at me, at who I’ve become, you’ll realize I’m no longer the one for you either. I need a man who loves to laugh with me, who loves to be with me no matter what we’re doing. Who
loves
me just as I am, unapologetically and unconditionally. Can you honestly say that man is you?”

Nick swallowed and replaced the ring box in his pocket as he studied her. Finally, he spoke. “I’m sorry for any pain I caused you, Trish. I wish you nothing but happiness in your future.” He gave her a wan smile. “I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you.”

That wasn’t the problem. It was that Tony didn’t know how lucky Trish knew
she
was to have
him
. He’d been going through the last two weeks thinking she didn’t want him—due to her own cowardice and stupidity—and that ate at her like nothing else.

“Thank you, Nick.”

Glancing quickly over at Jason and then back to her, Nick gave her a curt nod and walked out of Paddy’s. As soon as the door closed, her knees sagged. She braced her forearms on the bar and rested her head on top of them as she took deep breaths to settle her nerves. A smattering of applause broke out in the room, and she lifted her head to find her customers—her fellow friends and neighbors—clapping their approval.

Trish blushed and straightened, using a menu to fan herself from the heat of the emotional roller coaster she’d just ridden.

Mrs. Madsen spoke up. “Well, my dear, what are you waiting for? One proposal down, one to go, wouldn’t you say?”

Had this been New York, Trish would’ve wondered if the woman was psychic or preternaturally intuitive. But this was Fort Atkinson, where everyone knew everyone and it was a wonderful thing. Mrs. Madsen wasn’t psychic. She was in-the-know and wanted their happiness. And also maybe a little more juice to add to the story she’d get to tell later as being an eye-witness to an incredible event. Such was the way of life in her small hometown, and she knew she’d never want it any other way.

Trish faced the man still behind the bar with her. “Jason?”

“I’ve got you covered and I’ll call Erin to give her a heads up.”

“Shit,” she said, “I’ll have to call Rhi for a ride.”

“Take mine,” Jason said, placing keys her in hand. “Now, go, get the hell out of here.”

“Thank you,” she rushed out before smacking a big kiss on his cheek. Then she grabbed her purse from under the bar and ran out the door to the cheers of her customers.

As she got into Jason’s car she tried to suppress her nerves throwing a fucking rave in her stomach. If she couldn’t get them to settle down, she’d be paying for Jason’s car to be cleaned and detailed. But it would all be worth it if things went her way. If Tony could forgive her and give her another chance to make things right.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tony walked up and down the sidelines of the soccer field, yelling out encouragement and instructions to his team. The former was always well received with toothless smiles, enthusiastic waves, or a quick thumbs up. The latter was an exercise in futility since the kids always followed the ball no matter what position they played. But as far as futile exercises went, it was one he gladly repeated week after week, year after year.

This was the last game of the tournament, and miraculously, the Shark Bytes were tied for first with the Mighty Minnows. Whichever team won this game took first place for the season. Not that the kids cared all that much. They just loved playing and hearing their families cheering for them. One of the reasons he loved coaching kids at this age was because he envied their simplistic outlook on life. As long as something was fun, it was worth doing. If they loved someone, they showed it without ulterior motives.

If only it were that simple for adults. Then maybe the last two weeks would have been spent showing Trish how much he loved her instead of trying to bury that love so deep that it suffocated and stopped hurting so goddamn much. But, if anything, he hurt more today than he did yesterday and the day before that.

“Scottie,” he yelled through cupped hands. “You can pick flowers for Jessica
after
the game! Watch the ball, little man!”

Scottie looked at the fistful of yellow weeds in his hand and then back to Tony. His face scrunched up into newfound determination, tossed the stuff over his shoulder, and hunkered down into position.

And in another five minutes, Tony would find the boy picking weeds all over again. Because girls made guys go crazy until they couldn’t focus on anything but how to make their fairer sex happy, whether at the age of five or fifty-five. Dandelions probably wouldn’t have helped, but Tony wondered if he could have done or said anything differently that would’ve made Trish reconsider rejecting him and his love.

“Tony, I need to talk to you.”

Every muscle in his body snapped tight at the sound of Trish’s voice and her breaths sawing in and out like she’d just ran a marathon. Without turning to look at her, he yelled out to tell Austin to stop playing with a caterpillar and run down the field with the rest of the kids. He didn’t drop his fuzzy new pet, but ran toward his teammates and even managed to kick the ball with it still on his hand. Tony counted that as a victory.

“I’m a little busy right now, Trish,” he said. “If you still want to talk later, give me a call.”

“I’ve tried calling several dozen times. You don’t answer them.”

He was torn. Just having her here with him made him feel the most complete he had in weeks, and he wanted to kiss Trish senseless. On the other hand, she’d ran the moment he leveled with her about the depth of his feelings. His heart couldn’t survive being discarded again. He settled on shrugging and moving down the field to follow the action. He felt her keeping pace with him and caught himself slowing so she didn’t have to run alongside him.

“So this time I’ll answer.” Maybe, he amended silently. He wanted it all with her. If she offered him anything less, it would only make it that much harder to heal. Which is why he’d adopted the all-or-nothing mentality for the first time ever when it came to Trish. But it was necessary if he wanted to move the fuck on with his life.

“I don’t blame you, but I also don’t believe you, and I really need to talk to you.”

“You’ll have to wait until after the game.” Tony raked his hands through his hair in frustration. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll want to talk then either. It’s been a long damn day and I won’t have it in me.” Tony planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping he portrayed some kind of fierce statue that lacked emotion. Like a big ugly gargoyle. He bet gargoyles didn’t have women problems. “Tomorrow would be better.”