by Piper Rayne
Her face morphs into a disgusted expression. “What on Earth does degrease mean?”
I nod. “They said humans are the worst.”
“You’re right, I’d rather have to deal with wood.” A small, short giggle comes out of her. “Why do they have to clean them?”
“Where do you think all those med schools get their samples?”
Her eyes widen. “I’ve never even thought about that.”
I chuckle and finish my beer. “Me either.”
Silence falls over the table, and I try to muster up anything that might entertain her. Luckily, our food comes out and I order another beer. Savannah passes on a second.
“I’ll drive you home,” I offer.
She shakes her head. “I owe you. I’ll be DD tonight.”
We crack open our crab legs.
I dip mine in butter while she eats hers without. “No butter?”
She shrugs.
“Do you not like butter?” I ask.
“Who doesn’t like butter?” She pops a bite of a hushpuppy into her mouth.
“Exactly. You can’t eat crab without butter.” I dip a piece of crab in butter and hold it in front of her mouth. She shakes her head. “Why not?”
“Heart attack, artery blockage, calories. How many reasons do you want me to list?”
I put the piece of buttery crab into my mouth and grin. “You’re missing out.”
“I haven’t had it in so long I don’t miss it.”
I wipe my mouth and hands. “Bullshit.”
She peeks up at me through her eyelashes, and yeah, she misses junk food.
“You’re the opposite of your brothers,” I say.
“I don’t know, Rome is beginning to get in shape and eat better.”
“He might eat better, but his portion control sucks. He ate my entire container of hummus and pita chips the other day.”
She huffs out a laugh. “I swear Calista won’t stop with the ‘Baby Shark’ song. It’s imbedded into my brain.”
“This morning, she had Denver’s phone and was listening to it, and this girl he labeled ‘Wednesday night girl’ called. Calista answered it and had a five-minute conversation about ‘Baby Shark.’”
“No way.” Her eyes widen.
“Yep. Imagine that girl’s surprise. She probably thinks Calista is his.”
She cracks open her second crab leg. “We all thought Calista was his once upon a time.”
I remember that. When Harley first came to town, looking for Calista’s father, she was asking around for Denver. “Sometimes I’m still surprised Rome has two kids and a soon-to-be-wife.”
“How do you think I feel? I’m the second oldest and three of my siblings are settled down. Two married. One with kids. Another trying. I wonder if I should take medication for my cat allergy because I’ll never fit in with the rest of the permanently single women.”
I gulp my beer, trying not to spit it out because imagining Savannah with cats all around her is funny as shit. “I’ll marry you. We can’t do Vegas since Brooklyn and Wyatt already did that. Do you have your passport? Maybe we can go to Niagara Falls?”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling at least. “I thought there was no flirting?”
I hold out my hands. “I’m not flirting. This is innocent marriage-of-convenience talk.”
“And what would you get if you marry me? There’s always an exchange.” She wipes her hands and mouth, straightening her back to be poised and ready.
“Maybe that eventually, after twenty years, you’ll finally cave and sleep with me.”
She laughs. Head tilted back, eyes crinkled with laughter that can be heard two tables over. I relish in the fact that something I said finally made her happy.
“You’re laughing at my expense?” She can do it all day long for all I care. This is how I want to see her.
“No.” She tries to compose herself but fails once before sobering up. “It’s just the way you talk. You’d think you’re that nerdy kid in school going after the head cheerleader. I mean, you do look in the mirror every morning, right?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“And when you walk down Main Street, you catch the women staring at you, right?”
“There’s only one woman I want to see staring.”
She throws a hushpuppy at me. “You’re not abiding by the rules you laid out.”
“Sorry. It’s harder than I thought.” Ain’t that the truth.
Her laughter dies off. I kick myself for bringing up my feelings for her again.
“Can I ask you a question?” she says.
“Sure.”
“That night with the tattoo… how come you kept that secret from my family?”
“Because you asked me to.”
She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?” I think back to the night she came to me and asked me to tattoo a remembrance of her parents on her skin. I came up with blackbirds flying away together. Later on, her sisters saw it in the book at my shop, and now they have identical ones without knowing Savannah was the original owner. “I guess it felt like a shared moment between us and I wanted to keep it for myself.” She watches me silently for a moment, so I add, “I thought it might upset some of your siblings if they knew that.”
“Why would they be upset?”
“Because I’m your brothers’ best friend. I always felt you were off-limits.”
“Until recently?”
I shrug, finishing my second beer. “I guess it finally felt like maybe you saw me as more than just that.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and my heart races as I anticipate what she’ll say.
“Liam, I’ve been seeing you for a while.”
I slide my tongue over my bottom lip. Damn, that’s the last thing she should’ve admitted.
Fifteen
Savannah
Early Monday morning, I place my heels and jacket by my purse at the front door. Liam’s in his track pants and sweaty T-shirt in the kitchen.
“I guess I should be thankful your first line of business wasn’t asking me to go on a run this morning.” I walk by him, pretending not to notice how the wet fabric is glued to his abs.
He unscrews the lid of his water bottle. My guess is it was a giveaway at Smokin’ Guns since it has the company logo. He has bottles of water in the fridge for any visitors, but he always uses that water bottle. Maybe he’s a closet environmentalist.
“That’s step three.” His voice is so serious, I turn around with my yogurt in hand and am relieved by his smirk. “Plus, you’re already a runner.”
“I am, but I like to do it alone.”
He nods. “I can respect that, but if you ever want company, let me know.” He tips his water down.
I’m not sure I could run with him alongside me. “What is your mile time?”
He laughs, screwing the top of his water back on. “I’ve never timed myself.”
“Really?”
He circles his finger in front of my face from across the room. “I see your confusion, but for me, it’s about being outside and getting a workout in because I’m way too lazy to go after work.”
“Do you listen to music?”
He opens the drawer and hands me a spoon. I accept it with a nod. Maybe we can stay on solid ground. We’re acting like grown-ups.
“Of course. You?”
“Podcasts.” I shove a spoonful of yogurt into my mouth to shut myself up. He’s going to think I’m a loser.
“Podcasts about what?”
I debate lying, but Liam is so observant, he probably already knows. “How to be a better boss.”
His head tilts. A clear sign that he pities me. Great. He’s going to go from being infatuated with me to another Lake Starlighter who feels sorry for me. “Admirable, but you should try music. I bet you’ll decrease your mile time.”
I shake my head, pointing the spoon at him. “That’s sly.”
“What?” His hands go
“To go.”
“So I need to steal a bit of your time every day this week?”
“For?” I finish my yogurt and dump the container in the trash and my spoon in the dishwasher.
He hands me my to-go coffee mug after putting a splash of milk in it. “How soon they forget. The bet?”
Shit. I thought he was talking the charity. We really need to get going on that as well. “Um… how much time do you want?”
His eyes fall over my body, and he inhales a quick breath. “Stop baiting me to say something I’m not supposed to.”
“I didn’t.” But then I run the sentence through my brain again and okay, maybe I did.
“For step one, I’m going to ask you to bend the rules.” His teeth latch onto his bottom lip, and I’ve never wanted to unleash that flesh for someone as much as I do right now.
“Already, Mr. Kelly?”
“I’d like a half hour every night for the week. It adds up to three and a half hours, which is technically less than a day. So you’re actually making out on this deal.”
I cock my hip out and place my coffee on the counter to cross my arms. “You’ve done the math, which means you knew you had to make an argument.”
“What can I say? I know who I’m dealing with. I’m not going to bring a knife to a gunfight.”
I smile. “Okay, a half hour every night. We also have to organize the charity event. Do you have a lunch available to come to the office or maybe I can meet you in town?”
“How about we do that tonight before my step one? You do owe me orange chicken.”
I rack my brain. I owe him something?
“Before your date with Brent? At your office?”
“Ah. Yes. Okay, well, Wok For U is closed on Mondays.”
He smirks. “I guess that’s another time then.”
“But…”
He shrugs and sips his coffee. “I understand, really. I mean, it’s going to be a pain to be around you for so long anyway, but I can handle it.”
I shake my head and turn to the door. “I’m going to work. I’ll be home around six. Tomorrow I have a knitting class with Ethel, so I won’t be home until seven-thirty.”
“How about I get your schedule from Samara and we can figure something out?”
I smile. “Perfect. Thanks. She does my personal and my business.”
He raises his eyebrows and I realize again he’s withholding making a joke about my personal life. I’m sure with his maturity, it has something to do with sex.
At the door, I slide into my heels and grab my purse, computer bag, and coffee. I need to escape this house before I ask him to take me on the breakfast island. “See you later.”
“Have a good day, Savannah.”
I turn to find him leaning on the counter with his ankles crossed and a smirk on his face. I hold in my aroused sigh until I’m out of the house with the door shut. This nice version of Liam is going to be harder to resist than the angry Liam who always makes fun of me.
At noon, my office door springs open. A pissed-off Juno stands there with her eyes zeroed in on me as though she’s been planning my demise for months.
“The polite thing to do is stop by Samara and have her check if I can see you.”
The door slams and she throws herself onto my couch, putting her arm over her eyes. “You so owe me.”
“Why would I owe you? I had nothing to do with this.”
It’s clear why she’s here having a teenage fit.
She peeks one eye open through her weaved fingers. “You tricked me.”
“Me?” I point at myself.
“Don’t play dumb. You said you were moving in with me, which put Grandma Dori on the warpath because everyone knows her eyes are set on getting you and Liam together. She’s the only seventy-something who pushes her grandkids toward living in sin.”
“I’m not having sex with Liam. We’re platonic.”
She sits up, digs into her purse, pulls out her phone, and presses a few buttons. My gut twists because there’s only one thing on her phone that would be worth her pulling it out mid-conversation.
She holds it out toward me. “Really? Because here you are laughing with Liam at Carol’s Crabby Shack last night. Where, pray tell, did you sleep?”
I glance at the Buzz Wheel article but don’t read it. No need to hear what Lake Starlight thinks about Liam and me. “It was just a dinner. He apologized. I stayed at his house—in my own room.”
“Of course he apologized, he wants in your pants.”
I sit in the chair adjacent to the couch and remain quiet.
Juno finally looks over and her shoulders fall. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean… I’m just upset. She made me organize the kitchen.” She cringes. “She rearranged where my silverware goes.”
“Is it by the dishwasher now? I never understood why you had it on the opposite side of the kitchen.”
She throws up her arms and blows out a breath so deep, her bangs fly up. “What does it matter? It’s my house.”
“I’m just saying, it’s more convenient—”
“You’ve turned into her.”
“No, I haven’t.” Grandma Dori has the self-confidence of a lioness fighting a lion. I have the roar of a lioness but the self-confidence of a cub.
“You know what she wants to do tonight?”
“Go to the grocery store?” I guess.
Juno narrows her eyes at me, and I giggle because I razz her non-stop about how pathetic her empty fridge is. I understand Kingston and his bachelor ways, but I was surprised at Juno.
“It’s sexist that you think just because I’m a woman, I should have a stocked fridge.”
“Sorry for being sexist. In all honesty, Liam has a full fridge.”
“Because you’re there.”
“That’s not true. But he is different than I thought.”
A low spark lights up her bored eyes. I’m giving the happily-ever-after queen reasons to believe in true love again. “How so?”
“He’s just being a good friend. That’s all.”
She holds up her phone. “A funny friend, huh?”
I throw my pen at her and she catches it effortlessly. “Don’t tell anyone?”
Usually I’d go to Rome to discuss something I don’t want the other Baileys to know, but Liam is his best friend. That puts an awkward spin on the whole scenario.
“I won’t.”
She probably will.
I sigh. “I’m not saying I like him or anything. But we called a truce on the whole thing.”
“And what exactly is the whole thing?”
She shouldn’t know about Austin’s wedding night. We didn’t sleep together, but we were physical. “The whole him always coming after me thing. Making fun of me.”
Her eyebrows fly up on her wrinkled forehead. “You mean like in the fifth grade when boys make fun of the girls they like? Is that what Liam was doing?”
“Maybe? I guess.”
“My philosophy with you two is sleep together and get it over with. Then the world will return to order again.” Juno picks up her phone, thumbing through either her emails or Snapchat. She’s obsessed with both.
I attempt to make sense of what she’s saying, but I’m not sure I can. “Meaning?”
Her eyes shoot up as though she doesn’t understand what I’m asking.
“Sleep together and get it over with?” I prod her.
“Well, I mean, you and Liam aren’t riding into the sunset. You’re riding him into the bedroom.”
She must sense my distaste, or my body language is telling, because she rushes to correct herself. “I mean you and Liam as a couple.” She cringes.
Strike that. She isn’t rushing to correct herself—she means it.
“Does that upset you?” she asks.
It does. Why does it?
“Wasn’t it just a few days ago that you were Team Liam?”
She inspects the ceiling as if her answer awaits there. “I don’t remember. Was I?”
“Yes, you were. Tell me, Juno, what—or should I phrase it as who—changed your mind?”
She smiles. She always smiles when she gets caught. When she was fifteen, the sheriff caught her and her friends out past curfew. When I say past curfew, I mean it was three in the morning. She’d snuck out. Austin and I arrived at the police station to find her pearly whites on display through the cell bars.
“Grandma Dori?” I fill in for her. “The same woman who suggested I become friends with the man?” This reverse psychology stuff feels amateur for Dori. Maybe she’s losing her touch.
“Sorry, the sooner she gets her way with you and Liam, the sooner she’s out of my apartment.” Her head falls into her hands. “She wants to do pedicures tonight.”
I laugh, imagining Juno painting Grandma Dori’s toes. “Bonding time with your grandma is good.”
She throws the pen at me that I’d thrown at her. “I think I’m gonna call Kingston’s commander and tell him there’s a family emergency.”
I shake my head but don’t say anything. She won’t do that to him. Standing, I figure I’ll grab my salad from the fridge to eat lunch, but Juno stands and hesitates in front of me.
“So things with you and Liam are…”
“Civil. He apologized, and I accepted.”
Juno doesn’t need to know about the little bet we made because she wouldn’t understand. Sometimes I wonder when my family stopped seeing me as a sibling and more as a fictional superwoman character.
“Denver said it was quiet this morning.”
“We don’t fight every morning.” I roll my eyes.
She smiles at me. “I thought maybe it was what you guys did. Got all heated because make-up sex was so good.” She laughs and dashes out of the office as the pen I throw at her hits the glass door.
Payback is a bitch though, because Juno runs right into Grandma Dori—who’s holding up a bottle of bright orange nail polish with a wide smile.
Sixteen
Liam
I arrive home to find Denver’s truck in the driveway. Looking at the bags of candles and incense in my passenger seat, I wonder how I’ll get those into the house without his curious eyes catching me. Then again, for all he knows, they’re groceries. It’s a foreign concept to him since I’m pretty sure he thinks food magically appears in the fridge. I don’t mind feeding my friend, but how we’re the same age and he has no drive to have his own space, I’ll never understand.
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