by Jamie Wesley
“I’ve counseled many couples over the years,” she said. “This is what I know. The butterflies are great. The first few weeks or months are amazing when you want to be with him all the time, when you catch your breath when he walks into the room, when all his quirks are cute. But there’s going to come a time when the quirks get on your last nerve.” She chuckled. “You know what I’m talking about. That moment when you think, if he leaves his dirty towel on the floor one more time, you’re going to strangle him with it and enjoy every second of it. And after that, there’s no way the butterflies will fly quite so high. Does that mean it’s time to move on?”
“Yes,” Tate said to the radio.
“Well, it depends,” she continued. “While butterflies are important, they aren’t the only factor to consider when deciding whether or not to continue a relationship.”
“Does any factor trump boredom?” he muttered.
“What are those other factors? My three Cs: cool, commitment, and communication. Are you cool with each other? Do you enjoy hanging out with each other with no one else around or any craziness going on? Are you committed to each other and making the relationship work? Finally, are you respectfully communicating with each other about your feelings? If you are living the three Cs, you might want to consider hanging on to him.”
Tate thumped his head against the headrest. Was this what he had to look forward to for the next few weeks?
…
“Thanks for listening to The Tate Grayson Show. Tomorrow, I have a surprise. Tune in an hour early to find out what’s going on. Until then, I’m Tate…”
“The Great,” Bobby said.
“Grayson.”
Tate removed his headphones. A good show, but not his best. He’d been distracted, his first prep meeting with Dr. Noelle looming large on his mind.
“Ready?” Bobby asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t wait to see what kind of presentation the good doctor put together. You know she did. Probably something that explains how the show will change the world if we use her favorite psychological theories. Documented in a PowerPoint slideshow, no doubt.”
Bobby sent him a side-eye glance. “You’re crazy. You know that, right?”
Tate grinned. “I plead the Fifth.”
They exited the studio and made their way to the same conference room where he’d had the confrontation with Noelle earlier. Noelle and Caitlin were already waiting. Tate and Bobby sat across from them at the square glass table.
“Hello, ladies,” Tate said. “Ready to discuss the Tate and Dr. Noelle Show?”
Noelle’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t react otherwise. Too bad. He knew he probably shouldn’t try to get a rise out of her, but she made it so easy.
“I listened to your show this afternoon,” she said. “You have an unorthodox style of flitting from topic to topic.”
Tate hitched a shoulder. “If a caller brings up something interesting, I’m happy to follow the tangent.”
“I noticed. I don’t work that way.”
He relaxed back in the chair. “Shocking.” He nodded at the sheet of paper on the table in front of her. It wasn’t a PowerPoint presentation, but it still looked way too official from what he could see. “What do you have there, Dr. Noelle?”
Her lips pushed up into a stiff smile. “It’s a preliminary plan for the show.”
She slid it across the table. He perused the contents, his muscles tightening in anger despite his repeated promises to himself not to lose his cool around her again. He dropped the paper on the table and raised his gaze to hers. “You do realize I host a sports show.”
Noelle’s chin lifted. “Yes.”
“Then why do sports comprise roughly ten minutes of your vision for our show?”
“You can’t seriously expect me to talk about sports for two hours.”
The way she said “sports” made him think she considered them right above dog poop on the gross scale. “I don’t want to talk about feelings for two hours.”
“That’s too bad.”
“No, it’s not.” The words burst from him before he could rein them in. Why did he resort to acting like a six-year-old around her?
Their eyes battled across the table. I’m not ending it first. Another childish impulse, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.
“Caitlin and I brainstormed earlier and came up with some ideas,” Bobby said. Tate started. He’d forgotten they weren’t alone.
Noelle turned to Caitlin, betrayal written all over her face. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Caitlin squirmed under her scrutiny. “It was only a contingency plan in case…”
“We started squabbling.” Noelle sighed.
Bobby cleared his throat. Alex turned to his friend, who opened a folder and took out some papers.
“As I was saying, we came up with a few ideas,” Bobby said. “Let’s go over them.”
“No,” Noelle and Tate said simultaneously. Surprised, Tate shifted toward her. He read embarrassment in her expression. Without taking his eyes away from her, he said, “Bobby. Caitlin. Out. Thanks for coming up with some ideas, but it’s our show and we have to figure this out on our own.”
“But not tonight,” Caitlin objected. “The first show is tomorrow.”
“Yes, tonight,” Noelle said.
Tate nodded at her, ignoring the twin sounds of surprise from Caitlin and Bobby.
“Tate’s right.” Noelle held up a hand. “Yes, we agree on something. It probably won’t happen again, so we need to take advantage of the opportunity while we can.”
Bobby and Caitlin hesitated, looking nervously at each other.
“We’re big kids. We can spend time together without killing each other,” Tate said, drumming his fingers on the table.
The producers reluctantly gathered their belongings and departed. Of course, not before each sent one last uncertain look at him and Noelle.
Tate shook his head and turned back to the good doctor, who was inspecting him like he was one of her patients, someone she needed to dig deep into. Not going to happen. There was nothing wrong with him. He could handle one uppity psychologist with one hand tied behind his back. He let his signature grin spread across his face.
She didn’t look away. Not even close. Instead, determination lit her eyes.
Hmm. Maybe she would be a worthy opponent.
But did it matter? Tate sighed. No, it didn’t. Battling with Noelle wasn’t the answer. Not if he wanted their show to succeed. And he did. Not because he needed the money. He didn’t. But he couldn’t get the worried look on Deb’s face off his mind, and he didn’t want to let her down.
Besides, it was only three weeks. Less than. Then they could go their separate ways and he’d never be stupid enough to call into her show again.
“Noelle…”
“Tate…”
They’d spoken at the same time. He held out his palm, inviting her to continue.
“We’re stuck in this situation. Neither of us likes it, but my listeners need me, and I refuse to let them down. I’m a professional, and I assume you can pretend to be one.” She waved her hand and closed her eyes for a beat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Old habits. You’re really good at your job. It’s not my style, but I can’t deny your success.”
“Thanks,” he said slowly, stunned at the compliment. Even more so at how it sent pleasure rushing through him. “But we’ve got to talk about this agenda of yours. You’ve obviously given this a lot of thought, but it’s not going to work. Guys tuning in to hear about the latest NBA trade aren’t going to be happy hearing me talk about the value of Valentine’s Day.”
“I see your point, but here’s the thing.” She leaned across the table, her eyes filling with intensity. “Most people are in or want to be in some type of relationship whether that’s a long-term, committed marriage or a one-night stand. Men have feelings, too. Maybe they’d be willing t
o talk about them if you, their hero, did.”
Tate tapped his fingers on the table. “I hear what you’re saying, but men don’t talk about feelings.”
She smiled, an act which softened her features and transformed her face from attractive to stunning. Damn. Where had that come from? He blinked, refocusing, as he realized she was talking.
“I know. I’m a psychologist. I’ve been there, done that, struggling to get male clients to open up, but it does happen, especially once they realize I offer them a safe haven away from criticism. I apologize for not including much sports on the agenda, but I don’t know much about them.”
He grinned. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I can teach you anything you need to know.”
The unintentional innuendo reverberated in the air. A man more than comfortable with the sparks that flew between men and women, he still shifted in the chair, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t want her to think he was attracted to her. How could he be? She had commitment written all over her. For him, relationships were all about temporary fun. Women looking for a ring need not apply.
Her eyebrows lifted. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said dryly. “We go on in,” she looked at her watch, “less than twenty hours, so let’s figure this out. Sports and relationships, what do they have in common?”
“Both are tough and require teamwork and communication,” he said, more than happy to move on.
Noelle nodded. “You’re right. If there’s one thing I do know about sports, it’s that if a team is going to be successful, its members have to work together.”
“As a psychologist, you probably know the best way people in relationships and teammates should communicate.”
“There is no one right way to communicate, but there are some methods I advocate.”
“Some of which I probably disagree with.”
“Even though you shouldn’t.” She smiled, taking the sting out of her words.
Wait. Did Dr. Noelle possess a sense of humor? He returned the gesture. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be a total disaster.
“You could bring your sports perspective and your perspective as a man when talking about relationships,” she continued. “I can use my training as a psychologist to talk about issues in sports and how best to handle them.”
“You might be on to something. Let’s try it out and see how it goes. Deal?” He held out his hand. She smiled that mind-blowing smile again and leaned across the table. When their palms met, a volt of electricity raced up his arm. Shit.
Her smile froze, like she felt it, too, although she didn’t pull away. “Deal.”
Chapter Three
Noelle waited for Caitlin’s signal, then leaned closer to her microphone. “Welcome back to Noelle Knows. I’ve been teasing a major announcement for the last two hours. Many of you have posted guesses on Facebook and Twitter, but no one got it right. Now’s the time for the big reveal, so let’s get to it. I have a mystery guest joining me in the studio. Say hello, mystery guest.”
“Hello,” Tate in an amused tone.
He’d only spoken one word, but it slid like melted chocolate all the way through her body. Noelle stiffened her shoulders. So what? A great voice was almost a prerequisite for a radio talk-show host. So what if she’d found herself staring at her palm at random times throughout the day like she could still feel his hand pressed against hers? If she wanted to be Miss Mary Sunshine, her reactions proved her hormones, which Caitlin claimed were in a deep freeze since Noelle’s engagement had crashed and burned, could be defrosted. Not that it mattered. Tate was so not her type.
“Noelle?” he prompted.
Oh. Right. On the radio. Live.
“If you’re a regular listener to WTLK, my mystery guest isn’t a mystery,” she said. “He’s not a guest, either. For the rest of the month, I’ll be sharing this hour and the next with none other than Tate Grayson. Welcome, Tate. Happy to have you here.”
“Happy to be here,” he answered, humor filling his tone. Good. He was playing his part. “Some of you have asked if we had planned to call into each other’s show a few days ago. The answer is no, but we realized we could make radio magic if we joined forces.”
Noelle nodded, smiling. “Magic. I like it.”
Tate chuckled. “We’re not sure how this is going to work, but we’re excited to find out.”
“We know we’re not the only ones affected by this change. You listen to our respective shows for our discussions on relationships and sports. We’ll still talk about those topics, but we’ll be getting the other’s perspective during these two hours.”
“Should be…how do I put it? Lively.” His amber eyes sparkled like he was actually having a good time.
Noelle felt her smile stretching wider. “Yep. Lively. Good word choice.”
Her eyes, of their own accord, slid down his body. A red T-shirt skimmed his chest and arms, hinting at the muscles underneath and complimenting his chestnut skin. A shiver of awareness swept through her body. Not good. Her gaze, desperately searching for another target, landed on her computer screen. “Let’s hear what you think. Give us a call at 214-555-WTLK. Let’s go to Carly in Arlington.”
“I’m curious to see how it’s going to work out between y’all,” Carly said. “I listen to both of your shows and you definitely have different perspectives on life.”
“Don’t I know it?” Tate said in a long-suffering voice.
“I can’t wait to hear your first fight. It’s going to be epic.”
“Thanks, Carly,” Tate said dryly. “We live to entertain.”
Noelle laughed, surprised she was enjoying his sarcastic wit. “Thanks, Carly. Next up is Derek in Mesquite.”
“No offense, but this sounds dumb,” the man said. “Man, you’re Tate the Great. You have the latest scoops in the sports world. I know that’s what I’m going to get, and that’s what I want. I don’t want to hear you talk about love and feelings. Why are you doing this?”
Hmm, interesting. Tate on the hot seat. From what she could tell, his listeners worshipped him and rarely disagreed with him. Noelle rested her cheek on her fist and waited to see how he handled this one.
“I understand where you’re coming from, but I like to think of myself as a Renaissance man,” Tate answered.
It took everything she had in her not to roll her eyes, but if they were going to survive the next few weeks, she had to remember to play nice.
“I have layers,” Tate continued. “You have layers. You should give Noelle and me a chance. You never know. You might pick up some tips to help with your lady. You do have a lady, right?”
“Oh, you know this.” Derek laughed.
Just like that, he was putty in Tate’s hands. Smooth, as always.
Ten minutes later, right before they returned from a commercial break, Noelle took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer. They’d programmed the first segment well, so there hadn’t been much opportunity for discord, but that stretch was over.
“It’s game time,” Tate said.
Crap. Sports metaphors already? She’d hoped to avoid those for as long as possible. She sent him what she hoped was a self-assured smile and reached for her headphones. Tate grabbed for his, too. They slipped them on and turned toward each other. Her gaze latched on to the wide chest in front of her. Dangerous territory. Up her eyes went.
Only to land on his full lips.
“Ready to do this?” he asked.
Before today, she’d never noticed how small the studio was. Tate was only one man, but he seemed to take up enough space for two.
And his smell. She’d noticed it when they’d run into each other outside the elevator. She usually wasn’t one for men’s cologne, finding it too overpowering. But his scent, whatever it was, tickled her nose in a tantalizing manner. It was subtle, manly, and seemed to enhance his natural scent. A pleasurable tingle raced down her back as she caught another hint of it.
“Sure,” she said, moving to the rig
ht, seeking some Tate-less air.
They waited while Bobby counted down to the end of the break. At his signal, she adjusted her mic and got down to business. “Hi, it’s Noelle and Tate. Let’s talk about compromise in relationships, something Tate and I have been learning a lot about over the past few days.”
“I don’t like compromise.” Tate shifted toward her, bringing another hit of his signature scent with him.
Which she was going to ignore. Starting now. “What’s wrong with compromise, Tate?”
“In my experience, when a woman trots out the word compromise, she really wants her man to do what she says.”
She rolled her eyes. She didn’t even try to stop herself this time. Was he serious? “I disagree. I think if we’re honest, both men and women want their way, but we should be mature enough to know that’s not always going to happen, which is where compromise enters the conversation. To have a healthy relationship, each partner must realize that compromise is okay and that it must be genuine. Look for the best solution for both of you. If you’re genuinely opposed to the solution, speak up in a respectful way. Giving in and then sulking benefits neither party. As long-time listeners know, I advocate the three Cs: cool, commitment, and communication. If you follow the three Cs, compromise is the next logical step in a healthy relationship.”
“You talk a good game, Dr. Noelle, but reality doesn’t match the ideal situation you’ve laid out. Speaking of your three Cs…”
“Yes?”
“I heard you discussing them yesterday.”
“And?” Noelle lifted an eyebrow in an attempt to prove to him—and herself—that she wasn’t concerned about what he was about to say.
Tate crossed his arms and offered up a smug smile. “And I came up with my own.”
“I can’t wait to hear them.”
“Be careful what you wish for. You might learn something. My three Cs are chill, cling-off, and change.”
Foreboding skittered down her spine. “Please elaborate.”
“Chill. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you. Don’t let her fool you into thinking you can’t live without her because you can. Cling-off is kind of like bug repellant. Don’t let her cling. Only be available as much as necessary. Don’t give her false hope that she’s going to be picking out a wedding dress any time soon. If you follow those two words, it makes change all the easier. When things get boring, bam you’re off, your emotions unattached. Better yet, she won’t be able to claim you made promises you didn’t keep.”