by Piper Rayne
He leans forward, and when I put my finger to his lips again, he growls.
“Just one more thing.”
“Sav…” He’s losing patience and I kind of like it.
“I love you, Liam Kelly.”
He smiles and locks my hands behind my back, capturing my lips in a belly-dancing, heartbeat-pounding, lady-parts-having-a-party kiss.
I lean back. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
That classic smirk that only Liam can pull off lights up my insides. “You forget so soon? I said it first.”
I stand to get off him, but in one move he stands, picking me up and holding me. “No running away.”
I press my lips to his. “Oh, you’re stuck with me.”
“About time you realized.”
He locks the door, turns off the lights, and carries me upstairs, where we spend the next two days wrapped in his navy sheets.
Well… except for the Sunday hand-in-hand stroll down Main Street.
Surprisingly, no one looked horrified as we bought donuts from Sweet Suga Things, coffee from Brewed Awakenings, and pie from Lard Have Mercy. We even sat on a park bench in the square while he read the paper and I ate the donuts. The world did not fall apart, and no one said anything.
That’s not true. Rome opened the window of his apartment and screamed for us to get a room when we started making out. We quickly figured out we might not be ready for the outside world just yet. There are still more erogenous zones to find and sexual positions to discover, after all.
Epilogue
Six Months Later…
Savannah
I’m setting out neon slitted sunglasses, plastic bracelets, and fingerless fishnet gloves on the kitchen island when the door opens and whoosh of cold air runs up my short jean skirt. These hot pink tights are not keeping me warm.
“Hey, babe,” Liam says, hanging up his coat and toeing out of his boots. “It’s getting bad, maybe we should reschedule this.” As usual, he comes up behind me, wrapping his cold arms around my waist and putting his freezing nose in the crook of my neck.
“You’re lucky I love you.” I lean my head to the side to kiss him. “And it’s Alaska. The majority of my family owns trucks. They can make it here.”
“If you say so.” He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Where’s my mullet?”
“On the bed. Along with your mesh tank top and cut-off jean shorts.”
“Thanks.” He kisses my cheek.
“I still think you should’ve taken my advice and gone with the George Michael lookalike.”
He scoffs, stealing a chip and popping it into his mouth. “My outfit is the best.”
“I wouldn’t say it screams eighties.”
“Good thing we’re not one of those couples where you pick out my clothes,” he says.
I arrange all food from Wok For U and the rest of the goodies, because after a full week at Bailey Timber, I wasn’t going to cook. Plus, it’s supposed to be junk food with eighties movies. Mom was always so specific on that part.
My eyes focus on the wall in front of me. The painting of my mom and Liam’s mom laughing uncontrollably is there for anyone to see. Liam’s graciously let go of some paintings. He gave Rome the one of Calista, and Austin and Holly got the one of their wedding. And he gave the town library the one of Lake Starlight. That was after a lot of apologizing on my part and a lot of casual conversations where I brought up what a nice thing it would be to do.
“Hey, did you stop at the store like I asked?”
He stops on the staircase, and even with his back turned to me, I know he’s swearing up a storm right now. “I forgot. The weather distracted me and I—”
“Fine. I should be good until the morning, but I guess you’re not sleeping in.”
He groans. He acts as if picking up tampons is the worst thing ever. Never did I imagine a guy like Liam would have a problem with it. He doesn’t ever care what anyone thinks about him, except me. Eventually he usually caves, so I’m not sure if the weather was an excuse or not.
He heads upstairs and I finish getting everything ready.
We moved into Liam’s house. It just made more sense to live here since Liam has a bigger house and it’s out of town a little, giving us the privacy we prefer. I graciously gave mine to Phoenix and Denver. They’re supposed to pay me rent, but so far, I’m O for five in months I’ve received it. And I gave them the first month free.
I hear engines outside. A knock sounds and then the doorbell and then a knock again.
“I’m coming.”
I open the front door, and six of my family members trample in, complaining about how cold it is.
“You might be having a lot of guests spend the night,” Harley says, shedding her coat and handing it to me.
“I’ll take everything upstairs,” Holly says. “Denver’s old room, right?”
“Thanks, Holly.”
She collects the coats and purses before walking upstairs. A second later, she shrieks. “Liam! Is that eighties?”
“No, it’s not,” I yell up the stairs.
“It is,” I hear Liam say.
“Maybe lose the cut-off shorts. I’m with you on the mullet and mesh tank top though.” Holly always finds something nice to say. Probably how she handles being a principal.
“What’s to eat? I’m starving.” Rome heads toward the kitchen.
Liam appears at the bottom of the stairs as the door-knocking starts again. “I’ll just stand here until everyone comes.”
“Good idea.” I kiss his cheek.
He opens the door, and Grandma Dori and Ethel come in. In order for me to stop the knitting classes, I had to agree to let Ethel join our eighties theme parties where we eat junk food and watch movies all night. Plus, she’s a decent driver and it keeps Grandma off the road.
“Love the Sophia lookalike!” I say.
Ethel straightens her glasses and pushes up her already white hair, the spitting image of Sophia from Golden Girls.
“Dori, are you supposed to be Blanche?” Harley asks, noticing Grandma Dori’s low-cut silk pajama set with jewelry and a lot of makeup.
“That’s a lot of skin,” Brooklyn says.
“Maybe too much skin,” Austin comments.
Liam doesn’t so much as shut the door before Phoenix, Juno, and Colton arrive.
“Kingston’s right behind us,” Phoenix says.
“Where’s Denver?” I ask, slapping Austin’s hands when he tries to pick up a piece of orange chicken.
“Here, I’ll take them.” Holly grabs all their things and runs back upstairs. The woman never calms down.
“He said he’ll be a little late.” Phoenix sits in the middle of the couch, putting her feet up and burying her head in her phone.
“My mom and Uncle Brian are coming for the movie too,” Holly informs me, panting.
“Why don’t you take a break now?”
She sits on a breakfast stool. “Thanks. I have a lot of nervous energy I can’t get rid of.”
Austin goes over to her and puts his arm around her back. She leans into him, smiling.
“Okay, everyone, dig in. As it was voted, we’re watching Weekend at Bernie’s and St. Elmo’s Fire.” I don’t even finish before Austin grabs the serving spoon and serves himself a huge helping. “Maybe serve your wife first.”
“I am.”
“That’s a lot for Holly?” Not that I want to food shame her or anything.
“She’s hungry, like me.” His snappy attitude says leave the topic alone, so I move away and let our guests fill their plates.
Brooklyn stands with me.
“Eat,” I say, gesturing to the spread.
She grabs her stomach. “I’m not feeling the best. I’ll pick at it later.”
“Do you have the flu?” I ask.
“The flu?” She scrunches up her face.
Everyone stops and zeroes in on Brooklyn as though they want to tell her that if she has the flu, she better get the he
ll out of here.
“We’ve got Calista and Dion to worry about. You can’t go around bringing in diseases, Brook.” Rome goes berserk because that’s what he does if he feels his kids are threatened.
“I don’t have the flu,” she says. “I just don’t feel great. I ate a little candy this afternoon.”
“A little?” Wyatt says. “Try the entire stocking I filled for you at Christmas.”
She sticks out her tongue and makes faces at his back in true toddler fashion.
“Well, I’m starving,” Harley says. “Chasing around two kids all day and only eating a half-eaten waffle and a couple spoonfuls of mac and cheese just isn’t enough.”
“No one would think you’re engaged to a chef,” Rome says, shaking his head.
“Well, the chef doesn’t cook for his beautiful wife or his kids.” She gives him a saccharine smile.
“I told you to bring them down to the restaurant.”
“And you also said you refuse to make them boxed macaroni and cheese.”
Harley’s voice is snippy, and I laugh. Rome shoots me a glare and I bite my lip to stop.
“That stuff is crap. I made them mac and cheese.”
Harley looks around the room. “They don’t want the real cheese. They want the powder.” Harley’s on edge too.
I think we should change topics. “Well, I ordered plenty. We have two more trays in the oven on warm just in case.”
Liam pulls me against him and kisses the top of my head. I can’t wait to be with him tonight. Then the light bulb goes off and I panic because with all the running around, I forgot.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper and sneak out of the room to the bathroom upstairs.
Opening the drawer, I reach for my box of tampons, and there’s definitely a problem. It’s very light and there’s nothing moving around inside.
Sure enough, I’m holding an empty box.
Shit.
My purse is downstairs, which is probably where I put the last one. Damn Liam for forgetting to stop and get them on his way home.
After pulling up my pants, I wash my hands and look down the hall at my old bedroom. I almost feel as though it wasn’t me who lived in there. But Denver’s door is open, and I remember that’s where Holly was putting all the purses. Surely one of them has a tampon in there.
I scramble across the hallway, hearing all the laughter and jokes downstairs. We’re all in a good place. I mean, some of us are still finding ourselves, like Phoenix and Denver, but all in all, we’ve survived. I smile, thinking about how close we all are.
I open the first purse and move around the wallet and the keys and the makeup bag. Nothing. Obviously this person expects everyone else to be prepared.
The second purse might have a tampon, but it’s overfilled with receipts and papers. Is that an uneaten Snickers bar? Yeah, I’m not taking my chance that an animal has burrowed a home in here.
“Is there something you need to tell me?”
I look up and find Liam leaning along the doorframe, his ankles crossed, his arms across his chest. He’s so damn hot. How did I ever lock him down? He’s sweet and caring… but he didn’t buy me tampons, and now I look like a klepto stealing from my family.
“A hidden drug problem or just a snooper?” He cracks a smile.
“I’m looking for a tampon because you didn’t go to the store.”
“It makes me feel weird,” he admits. “You refuse to buy condoms.”
“I don’t refuse. I just don’t think of them until—”
“We’re half undressed. I know. We’re kind of lucky that you’re looking for a tampon right now.”
We’ve agreed not to go on the pill or anything else because having kids isn’t that far off. I’m already thirty-one. I give him the “exactly” look.
Looking back inside the purse—because there is no way none of these women own a tampon—my eyes zero in on a bottle instead. I pull it out. “Look!”
“That’s not a tampon, babe,” Liam says, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“No, they’re prenatal vitamins.”
“So?”
“So someone downstairs is taking them.”
“Maybe they’re old. Harley has been pregnant twice.”
The bottle feels pretty full, so I unscrew the top and there’s a seal over the bottle. “They’re brand new.”
“Whose purse is it?”
We both look at it then look at one another with our mouths hanging open.
* * *
Ten minutes later….
* * *
After I find a tampon in another purse, go to the bathroom, and ramble on to Liam about the prenatal vitamins, we head downstairs. Denver’s finally arrived, but with a ghost-white face. He’s at the kitchen table. No one ever sits at the kitchen table. Everyone’s around him. Grandma Dori is at his side with her hand on his forearm.
“What is it?” I ask.
Liam grabs my hand as though I’ll need his support.
“Chip Dawson passed away,” Austin says.
I gasp. “I’m sorry, Denver. I know how close you two were.”
Denver nods, and Rome sits next to him. We’re all close, but those two are far closer to each other than any of us. He’ll know what to do in this situation.
“I’m sorry, man. You should feel good that you helped him out these last six months though. I’m sure it meant the world to him,” Rome says.
Denver shakes his head. “I can’t believe he’s gone. It feels so surreal.”
We all lean forward because Denver’s voice is so low.
“Were you with him when it happened?” Rome asks.
The doorbell rings and we all look around, almost like we’re counting everyone who’s here.
Liam walks to the door, and I follow. Cleo Dawson stands on the other side, her teeth chattering and snow covering her blonde hair. She stomps in and scans the room until she sees Rome who’s now standing in front of the kitchen table.
Storming past Liam, she pokes her finger into Rome’s chest. “I want the key for Lifetime Adventures! If you think you’re gonna steal that away from me now that my dad’s gone, you’re crazy!”
Rome holds up his hands and steps aside.
Cleo’s eyes shift from him to Denver. “Ugh… who pissed off who to procreate two of you?”
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SNEAK PEEK of Demise of a Self-Centered Playboy
“Okay. Let’s just get started. We’re already late.” Luther taps his pen on his desk.
“I wonder why that is?” I sneer.
“It’s not exactly dry weather out there. The roads are horrible.” She swivels to focus her attention on Luther.
“You’d think by what you’re wearing it was a balmy eighty degrees.”
“You’d think by what you’re wearing that you were on our way to the local skatepark.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Let’s have it, Luther.”
Luther opens the file folder again and clears his throat. “Chip Dawson was my client, and I will be upfront in saying he changed his will two months ago, but he was of sound mind to do so. I suggest neither of you go and try to say otherwise. I did my work to make sure to have witnesses present.”
“She might argue, but I won’t.” I don’t even mention whatever he left me isn’t worth anything anyway. Without Chip himself, it’s all meaningless.
“Cleo, you are left Chip’s house and all the belongings inside.”
She straightens and eyes my pockets, si
lently saying, “Hand over the keys to Lifetime Adventures, fool.”
“Cleo is also getting his truck,” Luther says.
“I hope a stepladder comes with it.” I chuckle.
She huffs. “You know, we can get out of here faster if you stop interrupting.”
Luther waits a second, and I nod for him to continue.
He goes through all of Chip’s financial accounts, and as expected, everything is going to Cleo. If we could get to my toaster or whatever he’s giving me so I can get the hell out of here, I’d appreciate it.
“Now Lifetime Adventures.” He taps the papers on the desk. My attention is piqued, because for the first time, I sense apprehension in his voice. “Lifetime Adventures is to be split fifty-fifty between Cleo Dawson and Denver Bailey. If one shall not want their portion, the other has first option to buy the other one out.”
My stomach drops like the chunk of an ice cap into the ocean. Chip left me his company? What was he thinking? I look at Cleo.
Even with her layers of makeup, her face pales and her head tilts. “He left it to both of us?”
Luther smiles. “Yes, Miss Dawson. You both equally own everything that has to do with Lifetime Adventures.”
She sinks back in her chair and her manicured nails land on her mouth. “I can’t own a business with him. We’ll kill one another.”
I sit up straighter. Savannah’s not exactly a billboard ad for the great things in life when you run your own company. She leaves Bailey Timber looking exhausted most days. I’m not meant for a life like that. Can I do this? Run a company when I hate anything that comes with strings? Lifetime Adventures comes with a whole slew of strings, Cleo Dawson apparently being the thickest and most binding of them.
Luther digs into the file folder and produces two envelopes and some paperwork, handing each of us a package. “I know this is big news, so he’s written you both a letter. Why don’t you take some time, read the letter, and let me know if you have any questions?”