by Anthology
For the sake of their friendship, she couldn’t allow her mind to go there. She had to resist temptation and do her best to keep things light and casual between them for the next couple days.
Hearing her name, Hannah looked up and saw Liam standing at the top of the stairs.
Wearing only a towel.
Hearing a whooshing sound in her ears, Hannah figured that was the sound of light and casual flying out the window as temptation settled in for the duration of the storm.
Chapter Three
The towel was wrapped low around Liam’s waist, and Hannah would bet that all that stood between her and a fully naked Liam was one good tug on that towel.
And Hannah couldn’t remember why getting naked with Liam wasn’t a very, very good idea that should start right this second.
As if he could read her mind, Liam started down the stairs toward her, his dark brown hair wet and his green eyes intent on her. She watched the play of muscles under skin as he moved—washboard abs, impressive biceps, hair covered pecs. It all worked together—push, pull, bunch, release—in hypnotic fashion, and Hannah could almost swear that muscles, sinew, and skin were calling out to her, begging her to test firmness, to map ridges and dips, to taste…everything.
Hannah couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t move, couldn’t say a word. All she could do was stand there and watch as the man she wanted more than anything strode towards her—sexy, steady, sure, and like a gift already partially unwrapped—and changed everything between them.
If there was a soundtrack to this moment, it would have been something slow and bluesy, before building to a momentous crescendo as he reached her and swept her into his arms. Or she fainted from the primal sexiness of this moment.
Hannah grinned at the thought.
“…put my clothes?” Liam asked, having stopped a few feet from her.
And that would have been the moment that the soundtrack came to an abrupt, discordant stop.
Feeling her cheeks flame at the full-on fantasy she had had going on in her head, she said, “Sorry, I was…” Hallucinating. She coughed. “I guess my thoughts just wandered.”
He smiled. “Well, judging by the silly grin on your face, I’d say they wandered somewhere good. Care to share?”
Her cheeks burning even brighter, Hannah said, “Ah, no. It’s not somewhere I’m going to go again. In this lifetime.” Adding for good measure, “Ever.”
Liam’s lips twitched. “Ok then. As long as we’re back to the here and now, where did Winnie put my clothes? It’s not exactly tropical in here, you know?”
Hannah could see goosebumps on his skin as he crossed his arms over his chest, and she even found that sexy. She was beyond help. At this point, Liam could probably eat a sandwich or sit down and turn on the TV or, well, just breathe and she’d probably get all hot and bothered watching him.
She had to get away from him.
Clearing her throat, Hannah said, “Yeah, she put them in the dryer. I’ll go get them.” She pushed away from the wall and started to hop down the hallway toward the laundry room on the other side of the B&B.
“You shouldn’t be on that ankle.” With that, Liam moved forward as if he was going to wrap an arm around her and help her along.
Hannah recoiled. “Don’t!”
He raised an eyebrow at her shout, but didn’t come any closer.
“It’s just that…” I may jump your sexy bones if you come any closer. She couldn’t say that, of course. She coughed, stalling, and inspiration struck. “I think I’m coming down with something. Very, very contagious. And I don’t want you getting sick, so you should just…stay far away from me. In fact, you should probably stay in one of the guest bedrooms. I’ve basically infected all of the family living areas.” She coughed to emphasize her point, and when he put his hands on his hips—which she was not looking at, she was just not!—and narrowed his eyes, Hannah doubled her efforts.
It might not have been great inspiration, but she was going to sell this, see if she wasn’t. She gave a pitiful moan and coughed harder, really putting her back into it.
But without the wall to lean against and her back—and everything else—put into her faux coughing fit, Hannah coughed so hard she lost her balance.
Before she could hit the ground, Liam swung her up into his arms, pressing her up against all that bare skin. Her own arms slid up around his neck as if they had a mind of their own.
Or as if her fantasy had not been interrupted and they’d finally gotten to the good part.
No, no, no.
“I’ll chance it,” Liam said, a gentle smile playing around his mouth.
Could he really read her mind? Was he talking about what was happening between them?
She said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. There won’t be any going back.” They’d been the best of friends for three years. Weren’t they certifiable for even thinking about risking that?
“I’m not worried.” Liam carried her down the hallway.
“But what if I am?” Hannah met his gaze unflinchingly. “What if I’m a big ol’ scaredy cat about what could happen?”
“There’s nothing to be scared of.” Liam set her carefully down on the couch cushions in the family room and helped her put her leg up on a pillow. Grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch, he tucked it around Hannah, and it seemed like he paused for a moment, his head bent towards her, his mouth inches from touching hers.
Was he actually going to kiss her?
She couldn’t take her eyes off of his full lips, couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d feel like on hers, couldn’t help herself from mentally urging him just a little bit closer. Licking her suddenly dry lips, she said, “I wish I was as sure as you are.”
Did he actually lean in more?
“You’ll have to trust me,” he said, his breath brushing her lips. “I rarely get sick.” And with that, he straightened and stepped back.
Hannah blinked as if she’d just come out of a trance. “Uh, what?” What did getting sick have to do with almost kissing her or all those inches of gloriously naked flesh driving her mildly insane?
“You seemed really concerned about me getting too close to you in case I catch your…” He paused. “Sickness. Which seems to be getting better already.”
Realizing she had all but abandoned her pretense, she issued a halfhearted cough. “Oh, right. It comes and goes, and I guess it just went for a little while. Still, I wouldn’t get too close.”
“Too late.” Liam turned and walked out of the room, presumably to go get his clothes.
For which Hannah would be eternally thankful. Maybe once his bare skin was covered, she could start thinking straight and stop acting like a complete ninny.
He’d thought they’d been talking about him catching her sickness and she’d thought they’d been talking about them.
She groaned. What was wrong with her?
It was official. Loving him had fried her brain.
Though for a moment, she could have sworn he was right there in the insanity with her. Especially as he was tucking the blanket around her and she could have sworn he was going to kiss her.
But he hadn’t.
Maybe Winnie was right. Hannah should work on her bedroom eyes.
Although, now that Hannah thought about it, she wasn’t even sure how to make bedroom eyes. It’s not like she’d had a ton of experience. She’d married her college sweetheart right after graduation and they’d spent more time growing apart and separated after that than they’d spent happily married.
And making bedroom eyes wasn’t exactly on the curriculum in business school.
Thinking about it, Hannah half closed her eyes and moved her eyebrows up, which was not the most natural feeling in the world. Surely it needed something else? She moved her head side to side in a come hither…wobble
She laughed.
Even if she knew how to make bedroom eyes, whatever those were, without looking absolutely ridiculous, she was not going to
make them at Liam.
“Hey, you do look a little sick.” All concern, a now clothed Liam strode forward and put a hand to her forehead.
“I’m dying, actually.” Of embarrassment. She stifled a mortified giggle. Practicing her bedroom eyes had convinced him she was sick when her coughing attack hadn’t.
“You don’t feel warm.”
“That’s funny, I feel feverish.” She did feel hot—hot for her best friend. Nervous he might be able to see that on her face, Hannah blurted out, “I’m hungry.”
For you.
Why did everything ring with a double meaning right now?
He laughed, a low, deep rumble that seemed to roll against her, making her muscles tighten at the imagined contact. He said, “I think your appetite is a good sign.”
Hannah examined his face. His expression was open, smiling. There was no wicked grin or bedroom eyes or whatever else might indicate he was reading anything else into their conversation other than the obvious. And yet…
“For food, yeah.” Hannah watched his expression but it didn’t change. She must have imagined he knew what she was thinking. “There’s some leftover lasagna in the fridge, if you want to go heat some up. I would, but…” She gestured to her ankle.
He nodded. “No problem. I won’t leave you hungry.”
Hannah breathed a sigh of relief as he left the room. She couldn’t think straight when he got too close to her. Surely that was the only reason she was considering throwing caution—and the just friends mantra—to the wind.
She’d survived thirty minutes alone with him and it felt like eons.
Only forty-eight or more hours to go.
Hannah groaned and let her head fall back against the couch. She was tired of fighting this. The few times she’d been around him in the last month since she’d realized how she felt, she couldn’t relax. The tension in her body kept winding tighter and tighter until she knew if she didn’t escape, she’d break.
So she had escaped.
Only this time there was no leaving.
She focused on breathing deeply and relaxing, distantly aware of the clattering sounds as Liam moved around the kitchen. She must have dozed off, because she woke at his quiet “hey” to see him standing there with a tray in his hands and a look on his face that he quickly wiped away.
She would have sworn it was tenderness she had seen on his face, but maybe that was just a remnant of her dreams, which these days always focused on him.
He didn’t speak, just set the tray down on her lap. There was only one plate of lasagna.
She said, “Aren’t you eating?”
“I’m not hungry,” he said. “For food.”
Hannah’s head snapped up. She couldn’t have imagined that pause, right? But Liam’s face didn’t give a clue as to his thoughts as he settled himself in the wingback chair across from the couch.
“There’s beer in the fridge if you want to grab one.” Hannah had stocked up on his favorite brew from the local brewery last week even though she’d barely seen him in the last month.
“No, I’m good.” He didn’t say anything else and Hannah concentrated on the tray in her lap.
He’d dumped a ton of grated parmesan cheese on top of the lasagna, just as she liked it, and he’d also put a lemon wedge in her water, something he was always saying ruined the taste of good water and he didn’t know why she liked it so much. Her throat tightened, and she forced herself to take one bite, and then another.
Liam continued to sit in silence, staring intently at her. Hannah felt her muscles tightening even more and her stomach clenching. She put down her fork, unable to swallow another bite.
Liam took the tray from her and set it on a side table out of the way. “Now,” he said, as if he’d been waiting for her to finish her meal before he said whatever was on his mind. “I’m taking you to bed.”
With that, Liam bent and scooped Hannah into his arms and carried her out of the room.
Chapter Four
I’m taking you to bed.
Hannah had another coughing fit, only this time it was for real. He couldn’t possibly mean that the way it sounded.
Could he?
“You know, I’m not actually very tired. It’s barely seven o’clock and I just ate and—”
“You’re not going to sleep.”
“I’m not?” Hannah squeaked.
“No, we’re not,” Liam said, his voice deep and certain. He didn’t say anything else as he climbed the stairs, his arms seeming to tighten around her.
She’d never felt more safe. Or more like hyperventilating. She wasn’t sure which.
She had to be dreaming. She’d fallen asleep down on the couch in the family room and she obviously had not woken up, because only in her dreams did Liam sweep her into his arms and carry her off to a love nest for some sweet, hot, but totally-bad-idea lovin.’
And if this was a dream, then she was going to enjoy it.
Liam turned right at the top of the stairs and made his way toward the family living area where her bedroom was. In the three years they’d been friends, she didn’t think he’d ever been in her bedroom but he certainly knew where it was because he made his way there now with no hesitation. He pushed the door open with his foot and carried her across the room straight to her pristinely made bed.
Setting her down gently onto the floor, Liam framed her face with his hands, looked deep into her eyes for seconds that felt like a millennium of heart pounding anticipation, and said, “I don’t have the patience to wait any longer.”
Hannah’s breath caught. Liam was the most patient person she had ever known—always laser focused on his goal but with the patience to wait practically forever if he had to in order to accomplish it. She was afraid to know, to confirm, what it was that made Liam battle his legendary patience—and lose. But she was desperate for the knowledge, too. She asked, “Wait for what?”
“For this.” With that, Liam bent his head and kissed Hannah.
And it was like the tumbler in a lock clicking into place.
Liam moved his lips slowly, surely, over hers, and suddenly everything felt right. Complete. The world was put right side up again. Hannah’s tightly wound muscles loosened, and for the first time in a month, she relaxed into the moment.
Liam’s hands moved into her hair as he deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth. Warmth moved through Hannah’s body, and she thought she could weep at the perfection of this moment. He never hesitated, never paused, never seemed unsure. Not like she’d been. He just took complete possession of her mouth as if they’d shared this intimacy for years.
It was that thought that made Hannah tear her mouth from his and stumble back. He caught her, of course.
“Easy,” he said.
“Is that what you think this is, easy? You think it’s that easy going from friends to lovers?” She’d been agonizing over her feelings for him, desperate to keep things the way they were, terrified she would screw up this relationship too. And for him, he just looks at her one day and decides things would change?
If his kiss hadn’t just left her feeling all gooey warm and boneless, she’d probably get irritated about that.
Liam tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I think for us, it’s that inevitable,” he said. “I love you, Hannah.”
Hannah felt her eyes fill and overflow at the sincerity in his tone. This really was like something out of one of her fantasies—to have Liam look at her one day and, ignoring her grossly swollen ankle and grubby clothes, declare his love and kiss her deeply before they both race to get naked and horizontal. It was everything she’d wanted and all of what she was afraid of.
I love you, too.
Only four words, but they stuck in Hannah’s throat and she couldn’t get them out.
If this was all a dream, she wouldn’t be so scared, right?
She pinched some skin on her side and winced.
Liam noticed—sometimes Hannah thought he n
oticed everything she did. “What’s wrong?”
“I pinched myself.” There was no need to explain what she meant; she instinctively knew he’d understand.
Liam laughed, a sexy, wicked laugh that Hannah had never heard before despite how familiar she was with the sound of his laughter. This laugh sent electric sparks skittering along her skin.
He said, “You’re not dreaming. This is very real.” He pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it on the floor. Lifting her hands, he placed them on his chest, that beautiful, sculpted work of art that made her lose all semblance of rationality earlier. “Feel how real this is.”
Of their own volition, her hands moved slowly, sliding over bare skin, kneading slightly. She couldn’t help herself. She leaned in and pressed a kiss right above his heart. Liam groaned.
“Feel how real this is.” He slid his hands down her sides, snagging the bottom of her t-shirt at her waist before pulling it over her head and sending it to join his sweater on the floor. She probably should have felt self-conscious or embarrassed—on the slender side, she was far from well-endowed. But being here with him like this felt like the most natural thing in the world. It felt as easy and right as if he had seen her unclothed countless times.
“Beautiful,” he whispered reverently. “So beautiful. So very real.” He lifted his hand to run the back of his fingers along the edges of her bra.
Now she was the one who groaned. It was heaven. And it was not enough.
Mimicking her move of a moment ago, Liam leaned down and pressed a kiss above her collarbone. Then another, lower. And another, lower still, while his hands moved to her back and unfastened her bra. He paused, whispering against her skin, “Do you feel how real this is now?”
“Yes.” She wouldn’t think anymore about the future or her fears; she’d only think of how she felt about him. Hannah wove her fingers into his hair and pressed him against her breast. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Just…” She couldn’t find the right words for what she wanted. The feel of him against her skin, the warmth of it all, the passion, the tenderness—it was in front of her, against her, all around her. It was the part she’d been missing. It was the thing that made her feel alive. It was the hope that made her brave enough to reach out for this. It was him.