“Did they win?” Chloe asked.
“I … I don’t know. My phone’s dead.”
Chloe scrambled for her own cell phone, hitting the top button. “I turned mine off last night after I talked to her. I couldn’t handle my parents or Dan or anyone calling. I would normally check it first thing in the morning, but I just wasn’t ready to deal with the onslaught of texts from my friends, asking questions about Dan.”
I rushed to her, looking over her shoulder as her phone booted up. “Come on,” she said, shaking the phone as though that would help it load faster.
Finally, she pulled up the dozen or so texts waiting for her and squealed, jumping up and down. “They won!” she cried. “My mom texted me last night! They won!”
“Oh, my God!” They won. We won. Five hundred thousand dollars to get us all out of debt. I wrapped my arms around Chloe and spun her around the kitchen as we both laughed.
Slowly, I lowered her back to her feet, my hands wrapped around her ribcage. The light cotton crop top had slipped up in the midst of our victory dance, and I found my thumbs gently pressed against the silken skin just below her breasts. Each breath she took pressed those ribs deeper and harder against the palm of my hand, and in a movement that was so natural, so completely comfortable, I circled my thumb there against the upper part of her abdomen.
Those deep breaths of hers sharpened to just a tiny gasp that left her lips parted and her mouth angling up at mine as I blinked, glancing into her hooded eyes.
“Liam.” As she whispered my name, I could smell the remnants of peppermint from her toothpaste.
With every ounce of my being, I wanted to take her lips in mine. I wanted to close what little space was left between us and hoist her on top of her kitchen counter to ravage her mouth and body. I wanted to suck those pearled nipples into my mouth right through the flimsy shirt she wore, suck them until she was crying out my name—not just whispering it breathlessly.
And right now, with her body pressed to mine, it took everything I had within me to take the step back from her. She had just ended her engagement last night. As much as I wanted her, I didn’t want it like this. I didn’t want to be a distraction from her pain, or a rebound, or even simply a reminder to her that she was still desired by other men… which, clearly she was, if the tenting of my pants was any indication.
A moment of pain radiated in her eyes before she blinked and looked back down at her phone that was still clutched in her hand.
“Wait, wait…” she said, swiping at her screen. “There’s a message from Elaina.” As she read, her face fell. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.”
“What?” Panic surged in my gut. “What happened? Is it my mom?”
“No, no. Your mom’s fine. It’s… they… Elaina and Neil broke up.”
I blinked, certain I’d heard Chloe wrong. “What? That… that can’t be right. They were perfect together.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, first of all, perfect doesn’t exist. And second of all… look.” She shoved her phone in my face where Elaina’s text was simple, but blunt.
Neil and I broke up. On our way back to Maple Grove this morning on the world’s most uncomfortable flight.
“They broke up,” she said again.
“Shit,” I murmured. “What the hell happened?”
Chloe shrugged and her eyes flicked to the empty liquor bottle on the kitchen counter. “Guess I’ll need to buy more tequila.”
My jaw gaped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Half-kidding. I’m not saying I’ll drink it… but I can do for Elaina what you did for me last night.”
Silence settled thick between us like fog rolling in off the lake in the early morning. Maybe we wouldn’t be best friends any time soon, after all.
The sizzling sound of burned pancakes drew both of our attentions away, and Chloe gasped, reaching for the skillet. “Shit!” she cried and held up the smoking pan for me to see. “I burned your pancake.”
I gave a sad chuckle and reached for one of the charred strips of bacon sitting on a plate beside the stove. “That’s okay… it matches the rest of the meal.” I took a bite of the bacon—luckily, I sort of liked my bacon well-done.
Chloe’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I really wanted to make you a thank you breakfast for taking care of me last night. Too bad I suck at cooking. Unless it’s the crockpot. I’m a master of crockpot stews.”
“Well, pretty much anyone can cook in a crock pot. You just throw a handful of things in there and it does all the work for you,” I said without thinking
“Wow. Thanks for kicking me when I’m down.”
I winced. “Sorry.” And that right there was why I was the king of first dates. Only first dates. Most times, I messed up and said exactly what I was thinking. I swear, my filter’s broken. Then there was no hope for a second date. Or in the rare case, she did want a second date… I usually didn’t.
With the success of Beefcakes, I’d been getting asked out a lot more. Especially in the first few weeks, I had a field day with that. I finally got to be that guy. The guy who double-booked dates—lunch with one girl, dinner with the next. Then I realized, I hated ‘that guy.’ ‘That guy’ was always the worst, biggest douchebag. And here I was embracing that behavior? It wasn’t me. And frankly, I was really, really bad at it.
I cleared my throat and slid my feet into my shoes that were resting next to the counter where I had kicked them off last night. “I should probably get going. Help Finn at the bakery.”
“Right,” Chloe said, picking at her cuticle. “Of course. Thanks again for last night. The movies. The cupcakes. The donuts. The holding my hair while I upchucked said cupcakes and donuts.”
I shrugged. “Anytime. Or… well… probably not anytime, now that my brother and your sister aren’t together. That could be tricky.”
Her eyes jerked up to meet mine. “You don’t think we can be friends because of that?”
“Would be kind of hard, don’t you think?”
Chloe snapped her hands to her hips, resting all her weight on one side while tapping a toe. “Well, that sucks.”
“Yeah,” I said, and meant it. “It does.” Chloe was fun. Lively. Boisterous. All the things I wasn’t, and I found myself drawn to her, craving more.
I made my way slowly to the door and could hear her—no, feel her—following. I smelled that light floral scent just behind me. “Take care,” I said. “Good luck on those job interviews—”
When I turned to face her, she launched herself at me. With tanned arms flung around my neck, she pressed her mouth to mine.
I dropped my phone and wallet to the floor, scooping my hands up her back and over her flesh, pushing her into the wall as I opened my mouth, deepening that kiss. It was all I had wanted to do last night. It took everything I had within myself not to lift her, caveman style into my arms and carry her back up to that bed where we’d spend the night before completely chaste, sleeping beside each other.
Her hands raked through my hair, tugging and pulling me harder, firmer against her mouth, and as we parted from the kiss, her lips lingered on my chin dimple.
Her breath was heavy and caused her breasts to push against my chest with each heaving inhale-exhale.
“Friends don’t kiss,” I whispered.
“You just said we’re not friends anymore.” I followed the line of her throat as she swallowed. “And I had to know what you tasted like before you left.”
I groaned and let my forehead fall to hers. “You’re insane, you know that?”
She grinned. “It’s one of my best qualities.”
I tore myself away from her, out of her arms, turning toward the door. At first, I startled because the door was open and I didn’t remember opening it. Only after that, did I register a person standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips smirking at us. Tanja. From Chloe’s bachelorette party.
She said nothing, but her eyebrows lifted, disappearing behind dark, fringed bangs.
I cleared my throat, shouldering past Tanja. “Goodbye, Chloe.”
“Bye, Liam.”
I winced with her goodbye. Two words never sounded so bitter from sweeter lips.
3
Chloe
“Well, well, well…” Tanja shut the door behind her, but not before peeking at Liam through my window as he slipped into his car and backed out of my driveway. “I was coming over to check on you this morning… but maybe you’re not as heartbroken as I thought?”
I gave my best friend a pointed look. We’d known each other since freshman year of undergrad at UNH. If people thought I was a wild child, then they clearly had never met Tanja Wilson. She put all of us to shame. She loved attention. Loved the spotlight. And even though she was desperate to be an actress, she only moved to New York for six months before giving up and coming back home to New Hampshire. Though she never said it, I got the impression she much preferred to be a big fish in a small pond.
“My fiancé has been cheating on me. For years. Yes, I am heart-broken.”
Tanja winced and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Did you know?” I asked, crossing deeper into my kitchen and pouring myself another mug of coffee.
Tanja shook her head. “Of course not! I mean… there were times I suspected. But I didn’t know.”
I pulled a second mug out of the cabinet and poured her a cup, too, leaving room for the two creams and two sugars she always added. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
She snorted as she pulled the half-and-half out of the fridge. “Are you kidding? I saw how you bit your sister’s head off every time she insinuated that Dan might not be ‘working’ until 9:00 p.m. as a dentist in a small town.” She shrugged, pouring a dollop of cream into both our mugs. “I figured if you weren’t listening to your sister, there was no way you’d listen to me.”
I took a slow sip of coffee. Was that true? Would I have ignored Tanja completely? Maybe… But also, maybe with a second perspective, I could have better seen what was right under my nose. I shook my head. “My sister was so jaded by Brad, I just didn’t think she could see clearly. If I had known the rest of my friends noticed the warning signs, too, maybe I could have—”
Tanja dropped her mug heavily down against my marble counter and held her hand up, halting the conversation. “Stop right there. Because I can see where this is going. We are not going to let Dr. Douchebag cause a fight between us, okay? He is the one you’re mad at. He deserves your anger. Not me.”
I swallowed and blinked back the pricking tears that burned against the edges of my eyes. “You’re right.” I fell heavily onto one of the bar stools and closed my eyes against the onslaught of tears. “Anyway, that kiss you saw… it wasn’t… anything.”
“It looked like something.”
“It was a goodbye kiss. Liam was so sweet last night and then our siblings just broke up. I think it’s the nail in the coffin on whether we could ever date, or probably even be friends, if my sister and his brother are at odds.”
Tanja’s face twisted. “Who in their right mind would want to be friends with an Evans brother? The Evans boys are for fucking, not friending.”
I tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. “Liam is … really great. He’s thoughtful and sweet and funny.” I chuckled remembering his hatred of When Harry Met Sally. “And frankly… I’m a mess. If I dated him, I’d probably ruin him. Ruin us.”
“Ahh, yes,” Tanja said, blowing the steam from the top of her coffee. “Tasmanian Chloe strikes again. Too bad, though. Not only is he hot in that quiet, brooding way—but I bet if you two dated, Elaina and Neil would be forced to make up. They’d have to talk it out and would probably make up from whatever stupid fight they had.”
Hmmm. I narrowed my eyes, looking at my sister’s text again. She didn’t say why they broke up. But I just couldn’t imagine Neil pulling a stunt like Brad or Dan. If he did, then he certainly didn’t deserve a second chance. But if Tanja was right and it was a stupid misunderstanding… maybe she was onto something?
“If Liam and I were friends, they’d eventually have to see each other.”
“Exactly.” Tanja snapped, pointing at me. “Granted, it would be more fun to be naked friends with Liam, but whatever. That’s your call.”
“Are you around tonight? Want to come over and…” And what? Watch more sappy romantic comedies? “Cook dinner or something?”
She took a final sip of coffee, depositing it in the sink. “Can’t. I’ve got a date.”
Right. Of course. When didn’t Tanja have a date? The world didn’t stop because I got dumped.
“I can cancel if you don’t want to be alone, though?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s okay. Elaina will probably be here, and she might be worse off than I am for all I know.”
“I have to say, you’re actually handling this really well. The Liam kiss aside.” Tanja dropped her hands to my shoulders. Even though I was pretty tall at five-foot seven, Tanja was almost two inches taller than me.
I was sad. Of course I was. But more than anything, I was angry. And embarrassed. “Well, maybe that’s a testament to the fact that I didn’t love him as much as I thought.”
Tanja nodded and brushed her cheek to mine in a side kiss. “I have to run to an audition in Concord. Wish me broken legs!” she called over her shoulder with a little wave.
“Please. Please. You are my fourth vendor today to only give me half of my deposit back. The wedding is still four months away—and I know, trust me, I know in wedding speak, four months is equivalent to, like, a week—”
“I’m sorry Ms. Dyker. A fifty percent refund is all I’m authorized to give if we are less than six months away from the date.”
Hot tears pricked my eyes and I dropped my forehead onto the cool marble with a thunk.
“Ms. Dyker? Are you still there?”
“Uh-huh.” I inhaled deeply, shoving those tears aside. For now. “Is there really no clause for an ex-fiancé who was cheating on you the entire time you were engaged?”
There was a small gasp on the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she said. “Can I make a suggestion?”
I shrugged, and despite the fact that she couldn’t see me, she kept talking. “Instead of taking a fifty percent loss on our catering, you could cut your guest list by fifty percent which as stated in our contract, you don’t have to give us the final head count until six weeks before.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And… throw a catered party for my friends instead of a wedding?”
“Why not?” She offered. “You’re losing half of your money anyway… you might as well utilize that to throw a party of some sort.”
Huh. That was an interesting idea. “So, if I cut my guest list in half… that comes to—”
“It comes to fifty percent of the deposit you gave us. As stated in the contract, the deposit was an estimate of how many guests you expected. But you are allowed to adjust that estimate accordingly up to six weeks before the event.”
“I think I’ll do that. And maybe at this party, I’ll have a dartboard with Dan’s face on it.”
She chuckled. “There you go. You might as well have some fun with it, right?’
My call waiting beeped in and I saw my mother’s name lighting up the screen. “Thanks, Erin. I’ll be in touch with the new head count.”
I switched the call to my mom and answered as cheerily as I could, despite my sour mood. Granted, Erin helped lift my mood, even if it was just a little. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hey sweetie. How you feeling?”
Mom was the second person I called after I spoke with Elaina. She knew all about Dan. In retrospect, maybe telling your mother the gory details of your cheating ex and your breakup wasn’t the best way to handle a situation… but Tanja hadn’t answered my calls last night and it was too late to change that now.
“Fine,” I lied. Hungover and frustrated was more accur
ate. “Trying to get some of Daddy’s deposits for the wedding back. Thing is, the contracts state that I can only get fifty percent... but I was thinking, doesn’t Daddy usually throw a party for his biggest campaign donors every summer? We could cut the guest list down and use the venue and catering for that event. That way, we won’t be losing money, per se, just reallocating it.”
“That’s a great idea! The next Mayoral race is just around the corner. I’ll ask Elaina when she gets home.”
“Have um, have you talked to Elaina?” I asked.
Mom sighed. Oh, that loaded sigh. It was one I’d memorized since childhood. “Yes,” she said. “She’s coming home later today, but she said she didn’t want to talk about it. Which is silly. Your sister is the queen of bottling up her feelings.”
Yep, some of us bottle our feelings. And others of us barf them out.
But Mom wasn’t wrong. If there was anything I learned about my big sister through the years, it was that the harder we tried to get her to open up, the tighter she clamped shut. “Mom, you can’t push her.”
“I know, but maybe I can bring up some brownies to her room—”
“Not if she wants to be alone.” Poor Elaina had been living with my parents after her boyfriend broke up with her at Christmas. Then when she got onto the reality show, she had to move in with Neil for the show’s sake. Now… where was she going to go? Back home with Mom and Dad? I cringed, looking around my large three-bedroom house, now without Dan. I could sure use the extra help in rent until I find a job. And it would be nice not to be stuck here alone with all the reminders of Dan and the life we were planning to build. Maybe my sister as a roommate was what I need for a few weeks or months?
Another Mom sigh. “Fine.”
“Really fine?” I pressed. “Or are you going to ignore me and try to push her to talk regardless?”
She was silent for a beat. Yep. That’s what I thought.
“I promise I won’t push her to talk.”
Uh-huh. “Okay. Well, I need to go.”
Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2) Page 3