Hard to Resist

by Lauren Landish

  “Numbers are good.” Zac adds, “They’re actually a bit up.”

  My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “We got in a few more clients that like to have fun more than they care about the bets.” I nod my head and smile.

  “That’s what we want,” I say with a cocky grin. We want them to enjoy the experience, so even if they’re losing their money, they’ll keep coming back.

  Tyler huffs a laugh and says, “Gotta admit, I like those clients more.” Tyler’s more of a bouncer than anything for those clients. For the most part anyway.

  Put enough men in a room, add alcohol, and shit’s bound to get out of hand. I give Tyler a nod, but turn back to my brother. Although I’m a bit relieved to hear we don’t have problems on the money front, there’s still some serious shit that needs to be dealt with.

  “There's still an issue that needs to be taken care of,” I say and gesture to Zac, who’s nodding his head like we’re on the same page. I’m the problem solver. I fix shit, and I develop our brand. That’s my job, and I’m damn good at it. And right now, we’ve got shit that needs fixing.

  “Dracho is a fucking problem,” he says flatly.

  “I’m gonna need more than that, Zac. How many clients has he taken?” That’s really what this is about. He sees us as a threat, and we are, but there’s no way he can beat us. Not with the shit operation he’s running.

  “None of the top earners, but a client is a client and when they owe us, I don’t like getting a call from him. He can’t reach out to them and take on their debt. It pisses me off.” Zac's angrily tapping his fingers against the chair. He's on edge and pissed. He adds, “He’s pushing us by doing that and interfering with our business.”

  I clench my jaw and crack my neck. Zac’s got a point, but if the people who owe us go somewhere else looking for a loan, we can’t stop them. I look back to the pen on the desk and run the tip of my finger along the engraved lines. It’s a habit I have. This is tricky.

  The guys are quiet while I try to think of a way to stop this shit from becoming a bigger problem. I’d say we could just stop doing bets with the clients that know of him, but there are a lot that have come to us after dealing with that prick.

  “How much of our business came from him?” I ask.

  Zac shrugs his shoulders. “How the fuck should I know?”

  I imagine it’s a lot, considering his name is brought up in our circles with regularity. He’s got a right to be mad since we took his business, but if he was better at his job then that wouldn’t have happened. That shit is on him.

  “The only thing I can think of is requiring the cash up front.” I settle on a solution, although I don't really like it.

  Tyler whistles in his seat, and his eyes widen. Apparently, he doesn't like it either.

  “We’ll lose a lot of business that way, Liam.” Zac’s right. We would lose a lot of business, but that’s the only way we’d guarantee not having to deal with that asshole.

  “Do you have any alternatives?” I ask him.

  “We could take care of him,” Tyler says flatly. It turns my blood to ice. Tyler’s father, my uncle, was a member of the mob. It doesn’t mean much to Tyler if someone’s gotta go, but I don’t like it. It’s best to avoid that situation in the first place by preventing it from happening. I shake my head and nod at Zac.

  “Okay, not our high-end clients. But the others, the ones we know came from him. We’re going to require their payments upfront. How much business do we stand to lose from that?” I ask Zac.

  Zac looks up to the ceiling and taps his fingers on his knee for a moment before he looks back to me. “I’d really have to check the numbers, but it’s probably as high as twenty percent.”

  I lean back and say, “Problem fucking solved. We can take that hit. Our profit margin can handle that, and it'll get that prick off our backs and out of our territory.”

  Zac’s face finally cracks a smile and he nods, looking at Tyler and then back at me. “Alright, I’ll let ‘em know.”

  “We could’ve used that answer a month ago, Liam,” Tyler says from the corner.

  “Yeah, well, I’m here now.”

  “So no more sneaking off?” Zac asks.

  I take a deep breath and look away. I don’t have to answer to either of them, but I’m not gonna lie to my brother. “I’m going back tonight, actually.”

  “You moving into that place?” Tyler asks with disbelief.

  A rough chuckle rises up my chest, “No. No, I am not moving into Twenty-two Wyoming. I’m giving it back to the old man’s daughter.”

  They know all about him. And for the most part they gave me some time and space while I was away. Zac was younger when pops passed. But they know it took a toll on me.

  “Why you going back then?” Tyler asks.

  Zac butts in with a smile as he says, ”Let me guess, the daughter.”

  My lips turn down into a frown.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” Zac says, happy as a fucking snot-nosed kid in a candy shop. “Tell me I’m right.”

  “Fuck off,” I say with a bit of humor.

  “You for real?” Tyler asks.

  “I knew it!” Zac slaps his knee. “You’re such a bastard, Liam.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to tell them anything. Besides, it’s not like I’ve been fucking her.

  “Who is this broad?” Tyler’s asking questions, and Zac’s making assumptions. I don't like either.

  “No one. Unless you two have any more business to discuss, I suggest you get the fuck outta here.” They don’t need to know about her. All the stories Richard told me flood back to me. But in an instant they’re gone and replaced by that look on her face when she accepted my offer.

  She looked so fucking beautiful with her skin all flushed from just getting out of the shower. She’s a natural beauty. But she’d look better if she wasn’t wrecked from exhaustion and stress. And I could tell she wasn’t happy to go out with me.

  I want it though. I'm a selfish asshole, so I'm going through with it. A small piece of me is still hanging on to something. I don’t know what, and I don’t know why.

  She thinks I’m bad news, and she’s right.

  But I just want a taste of her sweetness.

  I want her to know me like her father did.

  More than that, I want to know the woman Richard was always talking about.

  I need to make sure she doesn’t regret this.

  Chapter 8

  Lizzie

  I peer at myself in the mirror, staring critically at my figure. I’m wearing a red dress with spaghetti straps that looks nice, but lacks impact. The lush curves I usually enjoy when I’m at a healthy weight are somewhat diminished.

  Damn, I think to myself. Nat was right. I’ve really lost a bit of weight. But it’s not my fault I don’t feel like eating.

  Nat has tried everything to get me to eat, with no success. I can’t even stomach her delicious sugar cookies anymore.

  Still, I like what I’m wearing. It’s classy, but it shows off my womanly figure. The weight loss hasn't taken that from me at least.

  As I stare at my appearance, I tremble with excitement. It's been a few days since I accepted Liam's offer. I've expected to see him since then, but he's been gone. I'm all worked up and nervous that he's changed his mind. But he hasn't. And for some odd reason that makes a small part of me giddy.

  In a few minutes, Liam will be here. I’m not sure if I made the right decision by taking him up on his offer. I know practically nothing about him. For all I know, his apology was designed to get my guard down so he can con me, like how maybe he conned daddy. If I’m not smart with this guy, I could end up in a lot of trouble.

  I need to be careful. I take a deep breath, trying to gather my wits, but my eyes pop open wide as the doorbell rings.

  Cursing my luck at not being completely ready, I run out of my room and down the stairs. I make it to the door and realize�
�� Shit! I have no makeup on. Thinking quickly, I unlock the door and run back up the stairs.

  “It’s unlocked!” I yell from the top of the stairs. “You can come in now!” I dart around the corner as I hear the door creak open.

  “Elizabeth?” I hear Liam call. It's odd hearing my full name. No one calls me Elizabeth.

  “I’ll be down in a minute!” I yell from the upstairs hallway, my heart pounding. “Can you wait in the living room?”

  “Sure.” I hear the door close and then his heavy footsteps as he walks through the hallway to the living room.

  Thank God.

  Five minutes later, I have my war paint on. I'm wearing a light layer of foundation, rosy blush, smoky eyeshadow and a shiny lip gloss. I’ve done a rush job on my hair, styling messy curls going down the right side of my face, but it’s good enough. I make my way downstairs and stop before I enter the living room, anxiety washing over me.

  I wonder if he'll think I look good, I worry. For a second, I have the urge to run back upstairs to change outfits and mess with my hair again. Stop it right now, Lizzie Turner, I scold myself. You’re going on a date, not marrying the man. Pull yourself together. And this is only to honor my end of the deal he offered and to find out what he meant to daddy.

  A twinge of anger runs through my veins, but it’s dimmed. I haven’t felt the same about Liam since he apologized. It’s harder for me to be angry as the days wear on. But I hold onto it, because without it, there’s only sadness.

  After a moment, I gather my courage, take a deep breath and walk into the living room. Then I nearly swoon.

  Dressed in black slacks and a bright white, crisp dress shirt that’s open at the chest, Liam’s sitting on the couch, legs planted wide, watching TV. The way he’s relaxed there, his hair a bit messy, looking hot as fuck, is driving me wild. Seriously, I’ve seen guys sit like that before, but he’s making an art form out of it. He looks like he owns the place, like he’s the fucking king of the world.

  The image of walking over and straddling him, smothering his neck with kisses while his hands roam all over my body run through my mind, making me shiver with need.

  Liam seems to sense my presence. He tears his eyes away from the TV and they settle on me. “You look beautiful,” he says in a deep, husky voice, not appearing to notice my inner turmoil. Hunger flashes in his eyes as he says those words.

  “Thank you,” I say softly. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  Liam grins.

  That's when the theme song on the television hits me. It makes my heart jump. As I walk farther into the living room so I can see for myself, I gesture and ask, “Is that MacBoys you’re watching?”

  Liam glances at the screen and then grabs the remote, turning the volume down. He knows how to operate the remotes. They're a pain in the ass. One to turn the TV on and off, another for the volume and a third for the channels. And he knows how to use them. Has he been here before?

  He nods. “Yeah, it is.” He seems to sense that him watching daddy's show has gotten to me. I can't help it.

  I fight back the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. “That was daddy’s favorite show.” It’s hard to keep my breathing steady at the reminder.

  “Yeah, I know,” Liam says in a soft voice. “He’s the one that got me hooked on it.” He starts to say something else, but then he stops, looking a bit choked up.

  Liam sounds so sincere that it’s hard not to imagine him and daddy being friends.

  It’s just an act, I tell myself. A ruse just to gain my trust.

  A part of me wants to call him out on it. Call him a liar. Accuse him of making up stories so that I won’t go after him for taking my inheritance. Yet when I look at Liam’s face, all I see is real, raw emotion. It’s easier for me to think he’s a liar than to accept he and daddy were friends. Because if that’s true, where did that leave me in my stepfather’s eyes? And without focusing my energy on hating Liam, my mind goes straight to my father.

  “He must have meant a lot to you,” I find myself saying. I can’t believe I just said that.

  Liam nods. He clears his throat uncomfortably. “He was a good man.” He nods his head, but doesn’t look me in the eyes.

  I grow silent. I stare at the man I thought was a liar. A man I treated like shit and took my anger out on, rather than hear out.

  “Let’s go, shall we?” Liam says abruptly. He turns off the TV and stands up. He runs his hand through his hair and I can’t help but be slightly distracted.

  I should say no. I should tell him I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry I ever questioned daddy’s will. I feel like shit. Daddy left everything to him for a reason. I should just be happy I have this house. Tears prick my eyes, and I wish they didn’t because Liam’s quick to come over to me and try to comfort me.

  I awkwardly laugh and brush the tears away, shaking my head. I hate how he's seeing me like this.

  “I’m sorry I brought him up,” Liam says as he starts to reach for me, but then stops.

  He doesn’t even wanna touch me. I breathe in deep and look at the ceiling with my eyes wide to prevent the tears from coming and ruining my makeup.

  “Hey, it’s alright.” Liam leans in a bit and rubs his hand down my back. I want to lean into his touch. But I know I shouldn’t. I feel weak. If I give him an inch, I’ll be begging him to take a mile. And that’s a mistake. Even with my head clouded in lust and sadness I know that much at least.

  I let out a heavy exhale and get ready to apologize and take it all back, but he beats me to it.

  “I wanna take you to dinner,” he says simply. “Come on, let’s just get out and relax.” I stare deep into his sparkling green eyes and wonder if I can really do it. Relax. Like it’s just that easy.

  He sees my hesitation and pouts comically before saying, “You said you would; don’t back out on me now.”

  I laugh and sniffle a bit.

  “Alright then. Let’s go.” I give him a soft smile, and something eases in my chest when he flashes a handsome, bright smile right back.

  “Perfect,” he says and leads me to the door, as if this is his house. As if he’s been here a thousand times. I start to think about this house and all the memories it holds and why I’m here, but I shut it down. I take one last deep breath and leave it all behind as we start our date.

  We walk outside and he holds the door open for me.

  “Thank you,” I say softly, clutching my wristlet in my hands.

  “You like Italian?” he asks smoothly. As though this is easy for him.

  “I do.” Lasagna is one of my favorite dishes. My mom used to make it a lot growing up. Well, really any pasta dish. Daddy used to say she loved carbs a bit too much. The happy memory turns the corners of my lips up for a moment. Just a small moment.

  “Good, because I know the perfect place to go.” I’m snapped out of my memory by Liam’s words as he opens the passenger side door for me. I give him a small nod and slide in.

  He drives me downtown to the strip, a place where the hottest clubs and restaurants are. The entire drive, neither of us talks. We simply listen to the music on the radio. It's hard to keep my mind from wondering if he's even interested in me. We pull into the parking lot of a restaurant called Di-Italio.

  I've heard of this place. The cheapest plate is a hundred bucks.

  I really don’t feel comfortable with a guy dropping several hundred dollars on me on a first date. Especially a guy I’m not sure I trust yet. A guy I'm not sure I really want to be on a date with. I stifle my objections and carry through with the plan. It's just a date. Just one date.

  He comes around the car and lets me out. He’s being a perfect gentleman, and I’m doing my best to accept it without feeling like a fraud.

  “Thank you,” I say softly.

  “Of course.” His deep voice calms me and settles my worries. He splays his hand on my lower back and leads me to the door. My heart blossoms. I’ve never been courted this much before. And especia
lly not by such a handsome man.

  What’s a man like him doing with a woman like me? I try to push my insecurities away. Aren't I worthy of a man like this? A man who admires and respects me? I start to speak, but I can't finish.

  As the man at the front entrance opens the door, I turn and face Liam. “I think this is really very nice of you, but--”

  He puts a finger to my lips, completely catching me off guard. The act is intimate. And he seems to realize it only after he’s done it.

  He slowly pulls his finger away and clears his throat.

  “I just wanna feed you,” he says. “Just sit down and let me meet the daughter Richard always talked about.” Hearing him bring up my father makes my heart swell. I search his face for the real reason why he could possibly want to be here with me. But I can't think of any other than he genuinely wants this date.

  I nod my head in agreement. I can do this.

  My lips part slightly as my heels click on the travertine tiles on the floor of the restaurant. It’s beautiful. There’s a rustic feel to the decor that seems to take me to another place.

  Soft sounds of a soothing violinist mingle with the murmurs of chatter in the large venue. There are sconces on the walls, and candles on the tables that provide dim, but intimate lighting.

  The deep reds and off-whites of the linens adds to the romantic feel. It’s nearly overwhelming.

  “I’ve never been somewhere so nice before,” I quietly admit to Liam, looking up at him through my lashes as the maître d' leads us to a circular booth in the very back. It’s in its own corner and it's more secluded here; the noises are even quieter, the lighting even darker.

  “Well then,” Liam says as he smiles down on me. “You’re in for a treat.”

  Chapter 9

  Liam

  It was hard to keep a straight face when Elizabeth said she’s never been somewhere so nice before. Her father said the same thing when I took him here.