I served the food, a sliced roast served over an arugula salad. The perfect compromise between Maggie’s father’s craving for red meat, her mother’s desire for salad, and the suffocating heat outdoors. Justin and I chatted through most of the meal, but I kept an eye on Maggie. Every once in a while, I’d catch her throwing me a thoughtful look. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?
When we were done eating, Justin immediately stood up and started clearing the table.
“This is ridiculous. This is my house. I can do something,” Maggie protested.
“Our house,” I said, smiling at her.
“That’s what I meant,” she mumbled, and then shut up and took another sip of wine.
Mrs. Grant got up to help Justin and Mr. Grant turned to me.
“How was your poker game last night?” he asked.
I lit up, surprised he’d remembered.
“It was great. Thanks for asking. I won the table. First time I’d done that in months,” I said.
I couldn’t remember the last time someone had remembered some trivial thing about me like that. It felt good.
“Yeah, he was in a great mood last night,” Maggie said mischievously.
I reached over and squeezed her arm, rolling my eyes at her for her dad’s benefit. Before I could take my hand away, she took in her own and held it for a moment. I could feel the electricity pass between us, and I simultaneously wanted to pull away and stay like that forever. I mentally ran through the reasons why I couldn’t touch her and was pissed to discover they still held strong.
I gently pulled away and stood up.
“I’m going to go pack up the leftovers so your folks have lunch for the road tomorrow.”
Maggie’s dad looked up, pleased. I made my way into the kitchen, but not before hearing him say to his daughter, “I like that one. You chose good.”
*
About an hour later, I walked Justin to the door, following him outside and to his car. I could tell he’d been anxious to get at me all night, so I figured it was best to have it out right away.
“Spit it out,” I said.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.
“I bumped into Maggie the other day, and while we were chatting she got the call from her folks. I offered to help her out.”
“So there’s nothing going on between you?” he asked, disbelieving.
“There’s nothing going on between us,” I said.
He looked at me for a moment, then nodded, satisfied.
“But I want there to be.”
He reared up and I could see his hand itching to make a fist.
“Relax, man, I don’t want to screw her. I like her. I mean, I really like her. I haven’t so much as looked at another woman since I met her. Well, not really, anyway,” I added, remembering that unfortunate incident in the parking lot of Elena’s.
Justin didn’t relax his stance, but he didn’t make a move towards me, either. So I figured it was safe to carry on.
“I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. I don’t know what it is. But I want to find out.”
“She’s too good for you.”
I laughed.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Then what makes you think you’ve got a shot? You’re a player, Liam. She sees through that bullshit.”
I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to say anything I’d regret. This was Maggie’s brother. And he had every right to come to that conclusion. I’d provided him with enough ammunition.
“I didn’t say I had a shot. But damned if I’m not going to try. Your sister? She makes me want to do better. Be better. She makes me want to be the kind of guy she deserves.”
Justin just stood there, staring at me.
“Do you love her?” he asked.
I was silent for a minute.
“If you’d asked me that yesterday, I’d have said no. Now? I don’t know, man. I really don’t fucking know. I’ve never been in love.”
“I’m not on your team here. But by the same token, I won’t get in the middle. You’re both adults.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
He nodded once, got into his car, and drove away. I turned around and went back inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Maggie
Liam had been gone a while, considering Justin had been parked right out front. I tried not to give it too much thought as I sat in the living room with my folks. My mom was telling me all about their adventures and every once in a while my dad would interject to comment on a stand-out meal or someone else’s RV. I’d never seen them so happy and animated. Maybe the whole RV lifestyle had been the right move for them after all.
Liam walked back into the house a few minutes later, looking suddenly exhausted and maybe a little dejected. I gave him a questioning look but he just smiled and came to kiss the top of my head.
“I think I’m going to turn in,” he said. “Long day, and I’m sure the three of you want to catch up.”
I felt a moment of disappointment. After the day we’d had, I had been looking forward to the flirting that was sure to transpire in front of my parents. The more I thought about it, this night was like my bonus round; my one chance to claim the prize.
I watched him leave the room and then turned my attention back to my parents. But the longer I stayed there with them, the more I wanted to head upstairs. I reminded myself it would be a long while, hopefully, before I saw my parents again and with that in mind, I dropped Liam from my thoughts and enjoyed their company.
*
It was close to eleven when my mom finally yawned and told my dad it was time for them to turn in. I carried the empty teacups into the kitchen, hugged them goodnight, and made my way up to the bedroom.
I expected to find him asleep in my bed, having not taken out the mattress, but to my surprise, he was up and pacing. In his underwear. He stopped when he saw me enter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, indicating his attire. “I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“Right. Don’t worry. Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I smiled and walked toward him.
He backed away and cocked his head.
“Where, uh, do you keep the mattress?” he asked.
Seriously?
“It’s out in the hall closet. I forgot about it. It would probably look kind of weird if we went out to get it now. You can share the bed, it’s okay,” I said, hoping he got my point.
He stopped pacing and looked at me. The air in the room was charged and if I felt it, he must, too. I approached him again, my eyes glued to his chest. Thank you, Lord, for these gifts I’m about to receive. I reached out and put my hand on his cheek and he closed his eyes.
I got up on my tiptoes and kissed him gently on the mouth. It felt bold, but it also felt right. It was easy to have no inhibitions when there was nothing at risk. It took him a moment to respond, but he did, and before long we were completely entwined. I moved my hand down towards his waist and he jumped back.
“No, I’m sorry, Em. No.”
I started at the use of the nickname. I’d almost forgotten about him using it the last time my folks were here. I’d hated it then. Sounded almost familiar now. But what did he mean, no?
“What do you mean, no?” I asked.
He licked his lips and swallowed, clearly nervous, which instantly put me on edge.
“Are you seeing someone?” I asked, backing away in horror.
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I swear.”
“So what is it? We’ve done this before, you know. Nothing’s changed. House rules still apply.”
He glanced away and took a moment to collect his thoughts. I watched the muscles in his abdomen move as he breathed in and out. It was a decent distraction. I let him take his time. Finally, he turned to me.
“That’s the thing. Things have changed.”
“What’s changed?”
He let out a long breath.
“I l
ike you. You’re a nice person.”
I laughed.
“And that prevents you from sleeping with me.”
I watched in amusement as the impact of what I’d said hit him. He closed his eye and bit his bottom lip. It was pretty fucking sexy.
“Yes,” he said.
I moved away and sat down on the bed.
“Well, if it helps, I kind of like you, too.”
He looked at me, hopeful.
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’re a decent guy. Great in bed. I mean, what’s not to like. Fine, the whole reputation thing, but that doesn’t affect us here, tonight. Come over here. Stop overthinking this.”
He sat down beside me and took my hand.
“You don’t get it. I like you.”
My heart stopped. All of sudden there was no air in the room.
“Um, can you clarify that last statement, please?”
He sighed and dropped my hand, standing up again and starting to pace.
“What can I say? I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. I don’t know what it is. I’ve always just…moved on. With you, I haven’t. I want to know more about you. Who you are. What makes you tick.”
“Oh.”
There was a moment of silence. The enormity of what he’d said wasn’t lost on me. This was the same man who’d basically admitted a few short weeks ago that he refused to let anyone in his life.
“You don’t feel the same way,” he said.
“I just hadn’t thought about it. I hadn’t thought of you that way, I guess. That sounds horrible, doesn’t it?”
He shook his head and sat down again.
“No, it doesn’t.” He sighed. “Listen, we met under really weird circumstances. And I have zero regrets about what’s happened, but if you’d let me, I’d love to try a more, uh, traditional approach here.”
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“A date?”
Again, I laughed.
“Liam Grayson on a date?”
“That’s just the thing. That’s who you see me as. I don’t want to be that guy with you. Please. Let’s start again.”
I chewed on my lower lip while I thought about what he’d said. He was not my type, but really, did I even know what my type was? All my failed relationships had been with guys I’d deemed my type, and look what happened there. I glanced over at him, taking him in from head to toe, then looked quickly away again. Good lord, he was cute. It made my insides curl.
“Okay,” I said. “Close your eyes while I get changed.”
*
The lack of the spare mattress meant we still had to share the bed. With this new understanding between us, it made for a very awkward situation. While I didn’t particularly have any strong feelings towards him, I was certainly entertaining some thoughts about his body. I shifted under the covers and moved further over to the edge.
“You sleeping?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“How’s the writing going?”
I smiled in the dark, even though he couldn’t see.
“It’s finished. The book is done, edited, and on submission at three different publishing houses.”
“Maggie! That’s fantastic. I’m so happy for you.”
He sounded genuinely enthusiastic, and it was nice. I hadn’t even gotten that reaction from my parents. My father was more like, “Well, this will be the true test, then, won’t it?” It was enough to make me resolve to never discuss the process with them again.
“How’s everything going at work?” I asked.
“Busy. Crazy. Unmanageable. I love it.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Shane? Bookstore guy? Is he anyone—?”
“No. He’s not anyone.”
“I just want you to know, I haven’t seen anyone since—”
“Liam,” I said. “Stop. You don’t have to explain anything. We just agreed to start again, remember?”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Get some sleep,” I whispered.
Within minutes, his breathing was following a regular pattern, and I knew he’d drifted off. I, on the other hand, was awake for a very long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Liam
I stood at my station, humming along to The Foo Fighters under my breath as I trimmed the steaks for the evening’s service.
“I guess things went better last night,” Toni said.
“I’m guessing you’re right,” Tasha agreed.
As usual, Statler and Waldorf were off in the corner discussing me as if I weren’t there. I ignored them and kept working. The best part of the song was coming up anyway.
“Did you just do-do-do a guitar solo?” Adam asked incredulously as he walked into the kitchen.
“Screw off, Grohl himself does it in the acoustic version,” I said, not even looking up.
He laughed and kept going, eager to join the group in the corner.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
I dropped my knife, wiped my hands, and turned around.
“Okay. I’ve had enough. You want details? Fine. Last night was great. I told her how I felt, she agreed to give me a shot, and now I’m just trying to enjoy the fucking day before the fact that I can’t pull this off hits me.”
Bree walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, give yourself some credit. Not a lot of men would’ve been able to take that first step. Did you, uh, you know?”
“Fuck her? No. And she offered.”
Adam started.
“Seriously, man? I’m impressed. Didn’t know you had it in you,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I do. We shared a bed and I was a perfect fucking gentleman. You were right. I have to do this the right way.” I turned back to my steaks and picked up my knife. “Now someone kindly tell me what the right way is.”
*
The next few days flew by. The constant stream of customers coming through the restaurant kept us all busy. Unlike Christmas, when we only opened for dinner, during the summer we served three meals a day. Cottagers were big on brunch, and we knew how to deliver. The addition of summer staff ensured I never had to be in before eleven, so it was a perfect scenario for all involved.
Almost a week after her parents left, I called Maggie and asked her out on a date. I got Sunday night off because I knew neither of us worked on Mondays and I figured if things went well, there’d be no rush for her to get home. If things didn’t go well, I was pretty confident she’d have no qualms about letting me know.
“Where are you going to take her?” Bree asked.
“Elena’s,” I said.
Both Toni and Bree turned to me simultaneously.
“You can’t be serious,” Toni said.
“Dead serious. She’ll see right through me if I try to take her anywhere nice. I can’t overdo it with her. She’s not starting from scratch. I have to be true to me, but show her that can be a good thing.”
“Learn that from one of your novels?” Bree asked, laughing.
“You mean one of Toni’s novels?” I corrected.
She just rolled her eyes. I turned back to my work.
*
On Sunday night, I drove over to Maggie’s to pick her up. I brought her a bunch of wildflowers, which she took graciously and put in a vase.
“Do you want a drink or something?” she asked.
Tempted as I was, I resisted.
“We should probably get to the restaurant. We can do our drinking there.”
“Where we going?” she asked.
“Elena’s okay?”
She smiled.
“Perfect.”
Five points for me.
We left her place and drove out to Highway 4. We talked a bit about work and her folks, but I kept it light. I really wanted to know if she’d heard back from any publishers, but she hadn’t offered up the info and I did
n’t want to cast a dark mood over the evening if the book had been rejected.
She looked gorgeous. She was wearing a green short sundress with a loose skirt and spaghetti straps. Her freckles were outrageous, and I loved every single one of them. I kept glancing over at her as I drove, unable to keep my eyes off her. Shit, I was in trouble.
She was wearing these strappy shoes that went up her ankle. Not a heel really, but a kind of wedge-thing. They made her legs look fantastic and I had made sure to follow her down the stairs when we left her place. It was going to be a chore keeping my hands off her, but I was determined.
I had gone equally casual, wearing a black T-shirt with a pair of jeans. Yet it somehow took me an hour to figure it out. There was a pile of clean clothes on the bedroom floor I wasn’t looking forward to folding later.
When we got to the restaurant, I raced around to open her door, but she was already out of the car. I smiled sheepishly.
“Don’t try so hard,” she said softly.
It was the kindest thing she could’ve said under the circumstances, and I took it to heart. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing there with her. She was so different from anyone I’d ever been with. But I’d never felt this way about any of those women, so maybe that said a lot about my past choices.
We walked into the restaurant and Elena came right over, giving me a hug and offering Maggie a kind smile. I introduced them, and as Elena showed us to our table, I leaned over to whisper in Maggie’s ear.
“That intro will guarantee you a free margarita on every visit.”
She smiled wickedly. Ten more points for me. We sat down and Elena handed over the menus.
“Do you think we should do a pitcher?” Maggie asked.
“If you like. I’m good for two, I’m driving,” I reminded her. “Depends on how drunk you want to get.”
She turned to Elena.
“Pitcher, please.”
I laughed.
“Really? Does it take copious amounts of alcohol to enjoy my company?” I asked, only half-joking.
“No. I’m just a little freaked out that I’m even here. I gotta tell you, in a million years I never envisioned this scenario.” She leaned across the table and looked at me earnestly. “You could be with any other woman in this room. You know that that. And you’d get laid.”
A Dash of Romance Page 11