He remained behind her, his arms wrapped around her midsection, her back against his rock hard chest. “I heard something and came down to catch the intruder.”
With unsteady hands, Macy shoved her hair away from her face. Random strands clung to her mouth, making her realize how much she’d struggled. Her weak knees barely held her in an upright position.
“I’m not an intruder and I was quiet. How did you hear anything?”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
He also hadn’t let go, which would explain why her heart continued to thump an unsteady rhythm in her chest. She’d known he was big; she just hadn’t been this close to him to realize how powerful he was. Power had once instilled a crushing panic in her. . . . She refused to ever be that woman again.
“You can let go,” she muttered, not because she feared him, but because she might want to lean into him. If she was ever going to fully move past that night, she needed to do it on her own.
His arms remained around her. “Are you okay? You’re trembling.”
“I—I’m fine.” She wasn’t about to explain the nightmare that continued to haunt her. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be guarding the store.”
Slowly, he pulled away from her body and Macy instantly felt the chill. Strong arms used to terrify her, still did actually, but the strength Liam possessed was controlled, caring. Until now she didn’t know such a power could be combined with gentleness. Tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t want to feel vulnerable, but damn it, she had no choice here. Liam pulled emotions from her that she’d just as soon leave buried.
When Macy turned, the glow from the security beams behind him cast a light around his broad shoulders. His very bare shoulders, which led to his very bare chest and ink she couldn’t quite make out over his left pec and up over his shoulder, spreading down over his bicep. Mercy, the man was sculpted better than she’d ever envisioned—and she’d done plenty of envisioning.
That tanned skin wrapped over taut muscle didn’t come from kneading dough or frosting a cake. His broad frame tapered into lean hips and had Macy pulling herself together to form a coherent thought. Whatever he had going on with that punching bag he mentioned was doing some glorious things to his physique.
She couldn’t see his facial expression very well, but he was close. Too close. Or maybe not close enough.
Macy had been known around town for her dating, and some people presumed she was promiscuous. That was their business. She couldn’t change what people said or thought of her and she wasn’t going to spend her time trying. Yes, she’d purposely dated quite a bit, mostly to prove to herself that she was in charge.
But she wouldn’t lie. She felt a pull toward Liam that unnerved her. In his presence there was always a rush of emotions she didn’t know how to handle. Sometimes she wanted to throw caution to the wind and make a move with Liam, but then that worry of rejection nipped at her mind. She’d never cared or worried about rejection before, so why was she letting this man matter so much? He’d been back only a few months and each day that passed had her more revved up than the day before.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, propping his hands on his hips.
He needed more clothes. Something to cover up all that scenery, because she was having a difficult time recalling exactly why she was in the store in the first place. And her damn head was starting to pound.
Invoices. Right. The things she needed to get to customers so she could get paid and keep her business up and running. Moments ago she’d been dead set to get some work done, but suddenly invoices were the last thing on her mind.
What would he do if she actually reached for him, ran her hand along those hard muscles? Maybe if she leaned forward to just briefly touch her lips to his. Would the controlled, quiet Liam snap or push her away like he had a few months ago? They’d yet to talk about that moment. How long would he pretend he didn’t want to kiss her? How long would she let him pretend?
“I had some work to do,” she replied.
“Out too late last night to come in today?”
Confusion had her jerking back. “Excuse me.”
Liam shook his head. “Nothing. None of my business.”
He started to move, but Macy stepped in his path. “Tell me what you meant by ‘out too late.’ I wasn’t out last night at all.”
“Phil looked exhausted when I saw him. I thought he turned this place over to you.”
Her dad looked tired? She hadn’t seen him and he’d never tell her if he needed help. Stubborn man. She’d talk to him about that, but for now she had other matters to deal with. Namely the half-naked man who clearly had a bad impression of her.
And the migraine she’d nursed all day was threatening to rear its ugly head once more. The twinge behind her eyes was always the first sign this was no regular headache.
“He did turn this over to me,” she defended, suddenly angry. “And you’re right, this isn’t your concern. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my office to finish the invoices I wanted in the mail earlier this afternoon.”
Macy knew her blood pressure was rising. She jerked around Liam and headed to her office. Stupid to get this worked up over a man who’d only been back for such a short time. She’d never cared what people thought before, but Liam was different. There was a pull toward him that she couldn’t deny, and the fact he fought it, too, was only more frustrating.
She clicked on the small antique lamp and braced her palms flat on her desk. From the corner of her eye she spotted Liam as he filled the doorway. Sexy and intriguing as he was, she just wasn’t in the mood for an argument. She’d barely recovered from her earlier migraine and all she wanted to do was get back home and crawl in bed. She’d thought once the last one passed that she was relatively safe to get some work done. Clearly she’d been wrong.
“Do you need help?”
Macy glanced over her shoulder, intent on meeting his eyes and not all of those displayed muscles. “Is that your way of apologizing?”
“I was out of line.”
He lifted his arms and held on to the door frame above his head. Oh, no. Now he was playing dirty with taut muscles that flexed and rendered her stupid and mute.
Macy looked back down to the stack of papers on her desk and sighed. It would be best if he went back upstairs and left her alone. The way he kept tilting his head out of habit, as if to shield his scar, the way he almost seemed to want to know more about her, yet pushed her away at the same time . . . it was all getting to her. She didn’t know what to do with all these mixed up emotions, and in the middle of the night, when they were completely alone together, was the last place and time to try to figure things out.
Liam wasn’t trying to purposely play games. The man just held so much sex appeal, she couldn’t fault him for the power he held over her. He had no clue and this was her problem. A problem she was having a hard time dealing with, considering her migraine was starting to turn her stomach. Stupid nausea.
“I’ve got it,” she replied, rubbing her temple. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Bare feet shuffled across the old checkered linoleum floor. He’d truly run down the stairs half naked, sans shoes, to take on an intruder. Said quite a bit about a man’s integrity.
“You look ready to fall over.” He stood right next to her, the warmth from his body enveloping her. “Go on home, Macy. These invoices can go out tomorrow after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”
Macy turned, but the defensive words died the moment she looked at him. The lamp from the desk shined directly onto his scarred cheek. The angry red pucker did nothing to deter from his appeal and she wanted to get closer, wanted to know the man who kept himself so closed off.
Without fully thinking, she reached up. In a flash, Liam’s hand gripped her wrist, stopping her approach. Why did he have to put up a wall every single time she attempted to get close? Did everything have to be a battle?
The intensity of his glare should’ve had her backing down,
but she wasn’t one to shy away from conflict. Liam was too strong, too stubborn, to let insecurities run his life.
“Don’t let this have all the power.”
He kept his tight hold on her. “You know nothing about me. Leave it.”
Macy stepped in closer, narrowing the gap between them and ignoring his hurtful words spoken out of pain and anger. “I know you won’t let people in and you keep to yourself.”
“You know the man I used to be. I’ve changed.”
Liam dropped her hand, but shifted forward to loom over her. It took a mighty large man to make her feel small, but Liam did just that. It wasn’t just his height—it was the dark gaze, the clenched jaw, firm shoulders. He was indeed the entire package of brooding man . . . and yet his vulnerability rolled off him in waves. Did others notice? Did they even try to see how damaged he still was?
Macy swallowed. He wasn’t saying a word, wasn’t touching her, but they were no more than an inch apart. His warm breath tickled her face, his eyes held hers, and the headache that threatened to return wasn’t even a priority now.
“Are you going to tell me how I can’t possibly know you since you’ve only been back a few months?” she finally asked when the silence became too much.
“No. I’m going to ask how you recognize someone who’s hurting.” His eyes traveled over her face, to her mouth, then back up to her eyes. “Who hurt you, Macy?”
For a split second, she wanted to tell him. How freeing it would be to finally get the demon out of her, but she couldn’t. The harsh reality was he would look at her differently, and that was a risk she refused to take.
“Don’t turn this around on me.”
She jerked away and turned back to the desk. Pulling in a deep breath, she tried to regain some of her courage and focus on what she came to do. The ache now turned into a throb she might not be able to ignore for much longer.
“Don’t dig into my life if you don’t want anyone digging into yours.”
With shaky hands, she gathered the invoices and tapped the edges on the desk to make them all neat and orderly. She needed control of something right now, even if it was these stupid papers.
“Want to share stories?” he asked.
She nearly called him on the rhetorical question. What would he say if she came out and told him what she’d been through? What would he say if he knew she’d never told another soul what happened to her that night? She might not wear her scars on the outside, but she had plenty on the inside.
“I want you to stop being a jerk,” she told him as she turned back around. “Obviously you’re not used to people caring about you, so I’ll try not to make that mistake again.”
Something flashed through his eyes. Regret, guilt, fear? Maybe all three, but the emotion was gone as fast as it had come.
“That’s for the best.” He delivered his reply as he turned and walked out.
That was it? He wasn’t going to say anything else? What on earth was going on in his head? What had just happened? Seriously. Because her entire system had gone into overload in the past twenty minutes. Between being wrapped in his arms, held by his strong grip, and stared at with such intensity, Macy didn’t even know how she should react. She prided herself on keeping the upper hand when it came to men—she had to—but Liam rocked her world in ways no one had before, and she didn’t like it. Okay . . . she did. But she didn’t like being so emotionally confused when her body was so revved up.
In all honesty, the crazy ambiance and invisible pull was most likely why Liam had made his exit. Maybe he wasn’t sure how to respond either, so leaving was the best option.
Macy sank into the old wooden chair. Propping her elbows on the desk, she rubbed her temples and concentrated on deep breaths. That stupid migraine was coming back full force. Trying to come into work tonight was obviously a complete waste. She’d felt fine when she’d left home, was able to tolerate the dull ache when she’d first arrived, but she was at a point where she needed to get back, take her medicine, and get into bed.
Liam Monroe was throwing her for a complete loop. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream at him or grab him and kiss him.
Both. She wanted to do both.
The sharp pain shooting from behind her eyes had her reaching blindly to click the lamp off. Stress tended to exacerbate these migraines and she really didn’t know what she was so stressed about lately. Day-to-day responsibilities hadn’t really increased once she took over. She’d always worked at the store, but now that she was the sole owner, maybe she was doing more so she could give her dad the time off he so deserved. And she didn’t want to let him down.
As the third generation owner, she wanted the next few decades to be just as successful as in the past. She wanted her father to be proud. Regardless of the fact that this wasn’t necessarily her dream job, she was here and she’d do the job she was supposed to do.
Macy continued to massage her head in a vain attempt to ease the pressure. Her purse with her medicine was out at the counter where she’d dropped everything when she first came in. Now she just needed to get to it.
Maybe if she just rested for a moment. Macy folded her arms and lay her head down, keeping her eyes closed.
The soft brush of footsteps in the room was her only warning before familiar arms banded around, this time lifting her from the seat. She must’ve fallen asleep, because she was a bit confused as to where she was for the briefest of moments.
Macy whimpered as the movement jarred her head. She hadn’t realized how fast and how far gone she was. Apparently the rest hadn’t done a thing to help her state.
Leaning against Liam’s bare, broad chest was a comfort she hadn’t even known she was seeking. With her eyes closed, she leaned against his warmth and let him carry her away. That dizzying state of sleepiness continued to envelop her.
“You shouldn’t have come in if you’re that tired.”
“Migraine,” she whispered.
“Do you have medicine?” he asked, his voice low, caring.
“My purse. By the front counter.”
She couldn’t say more, couldn’t move. Nausea started to build as it did when she got these sudden attacks. She only prayed she wouldn’t toss her cookies all over Liam.
He barely slowed as they passed by the front counter. Then he kept going and was heading up to the second story.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, humiliation sweeping through her.
Liam didn’t say a word, just carried her up the steps as if she weighed nothing. When she felt better she’d appreciate his masculine skills and the fact he wasn’t even breathing hard. A strong man didn’t have to be scary; strength could be extremely sexy. Again, something she’d have to analyze later, when thinking didn’t feel like a jackhammer in her head.
Moments later he eased her down. A bed, she realized as she brought an arm up to cover her face. She could tell from the direction he’d walked when she heard him from downstairs that he was sleeping in her old room, and the cool sheets smelled like him, all manly and rugged.
Sounds registered around her: Liam shuffling from the room, coming back, rummaging through her purse, shaking the pill bottle.
Easing up, Macy held out her hand. He dropped the pill onto her palm and then held a glass to her lips. If she didn’t feel so bad, she would be embarrassed at how she was acting like an invalid, but there was no other option.
Once she swallowed the pill, she eased back down. The bed dipped beside her as Liam sat next to her hip.
“Does this take long to kick in?”
“Long enough,” she murmured.
How humbling was it to be infatuated with a man only to have him witness you at your absolute worst possible time? She only prayed the nausea didn’t become worse.
Macy started to sit back up, risking opening one eye and grateful to find the room was dark. “I’ll just wait out in my truck for this to pass.”
Instantly, hands covered her shoulders and settled her back against
the pillows. “You’ll sleep here. I’ll go to the couch. What else can I get you?”
No way was she staying the night. As soon as she felt like moving without throwing up, she was out of here. Despite the dark room, Macy kept her eyes closed and sank further into the soft sheets. Why did this have to feel so good? Why was letting him take care of her so annoyingly wonderful? The only person she’d ever let help her was her father. This went against everything in her “I am woman, hear me roar” attitude.
“You’re not arguing, so I know you feel awful.” He brushed the hair away from her face and she wanted him to keep touching her in that soft manner. Had anyone ever done that?
“I’ll leave the door open in case you need something,” he went on, pulling away and easing off the bed. “Don’t worry about waking me. If you get worse, I want to know.”
“I’ll be fine. As soon as it eases, I’m leaving.”
Liam grunted and his heavy footsteps carried him from the room. Macy didn’t want to think about lying here in his bed, didn’t want to think about how one minute he was infuriating and the next he was nurturing. Why did he have to be so . . . ? She couldn’t even pinpoint one word to describe him. When she was better, she vowed, she’d think of a whole host of adjectives to describe her tenant.
Macy shifted to her side and brought her hand up over her eyes. She prayed the prescription would kick in soon. It was already around midnight and she really didn’t want to have to call her dad in to open the store in the morning. Two days in a row wouldn’t look too good. Even though he completely understood her condition, she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle the responsibility of taking over. She hadn’t been able to finish her degree, had let fear grip her and take over momentarily, and she refused to fail at this, too.
All she needed was to wait, let the meds kick in, and she’d be good to go. She’d just lie here, inhaling the woodsy scent on Liam’s sheets, and try to recall a time when any man treated her with such care.
Chapter Three
“Do you think I should ask her or not?”
Lost in You Page 4