“So what? Buy her flowers? Gifts?”
James shrugged but didn’t look thrilled by the idea. “You can, but material things can be a lame substitute for words she really needs to hear from us.”
Vincent let out a sigh. “That guy she was out to supper with last night was telling her she was a special lady, and he kissed her hand.”
James turned the glass of ice water in its pool of condensation on the table and smiled. “She told me you got up in his face. I can relate to the territorial feeling. In your shoes I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
Vincent doubted it and knew James was trying to make him feel better. His brother would’ve approached a whole lot more calmly and peaceably and introduced himself before questioning what the guy was up to.
“But, Vince, if you want to win her, then you’ll need to gag the caveman for a while.”
Feeling like an idiot, Vince said, “Encourage her. Make her feel special.”
“Women love being told they look beautiful. Have you ever seen her when you didn’t think she was beautiful?”
“No,” he said honestly.
“How often do you tell her, besides when you’re having sex with her?”
“I don’t know, but it’s always implied.”
James raised an eyebrow and shrugged and the message was received. “Women love knowing that we like the way they smell, too.”
“She always smells good. Lavender mixed with vanilla and something else that’s really sexy. I don’t know what it is but it gets me hard if I inhale in that soft little spot under her ear, and also between her breasts. Makes me want to lick her all over.” God, he could practically feel her soft skin beneath his lips and his tongue. He shifted uncomfortably when the memory made him a little hard, and James chuckled at him, obviously reading his mind.
“It’s called pheromones. Her scent gets to you and makes you want her. I feel the same way. Next time you see her tell her she smells good enough to eat and let her draw her own conclusions.”
“And edify her?”
“Yeah. When her name comes up in conversations, talk positively about her.”
“That won’t be hard.”
James shook his head. “I don’t mean just giving her compliments. Tell others about how much she accomplishes at the store instead of telling people she works too much. Talk about the good she does outside the store in the community. Look for ways to build her up to others so their esteem for her grows. Never point out her flaws in front of others. Trust me, she knows she has flaws.”
“This is complicated. Like what?”
“Like for starters, don’t call her fluff in public. I know why you do it and I think it has value, but keep it behind closed doors. Among women, fluffy is just another euphemism for fat.”
Vincent scoffed. “She’s not fat. We talked about this the other night. She knows what we mean.”
James lifted a hand and cut him off. “I know we talked about it, but when she’s around other women, don’t use it. It’ll make her self-conscious. And for your information, you can tell her she’s not fat all day but she won’t believe you. You’ll think you have her convinced and then she’ll turn around and show that insecurity again. How you get around it is by reminding her she’s beautiful and sexy.”
“There’s no way to win, is there?”
“We’re not trying to win anything, Vince. Flowers need constant care. I hear men stay stupid shit like ‘I told her I loved her the day I married her and that’s all she needs to know’ and I want to smack the crap out of them. Remember Mom’s rose bushes?”
“Yeah?” Vincent said as the waiter brought their steaming hot plates to the table.
“She worked on them year in and year out. She used to say a rose bush could go for a few years with very little care but there comes a point where the neglect starts to show. That was why she pruned them and fed them every year and took care of them in between. Women are the same way. They can go a long time on just a few kind words, but if you give them the care they really need, their beauty just grows and everyone notices them.”
“I don’t want any other man noticing our woman,” he replied with a frown.
James rolled his eyes and dug into his plate. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” He took a bite and Vincent could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he chewed. “You remember Grace back before she was with her men, when she lived in town with that little shithead. His name was Owen-something.”
Vincent grimaced. “I was on that call the night we arrested that alky fucker for harassing her.”