Lost in You

by Jules Bennett

  Braxton turned and headed out, back down the hallway where he’d entered. Zach slid his arm around Sophie’s waist and she leaned a little into his side. Liam refused to be jealous of his brothers’ relationships with such amazing women. They deserved happiness. Not that Liam didn’t, but it would take a special woman to be able to put up with the ugliness of his past and the baggage of his present.

  “Oh, I need to let you know about the new guests we have coming next week.” Sophie straightened, smoothing her hair behind her ears. “You know Livie Daniels?”

  The name was familiar, but Liam was drawing a blank. “Not really.”

  “Didn’t she graduate with Braxton?” Zach asked, glancing to Sophie.

  “She did. Her dad ran the small airport in Haven and he recently passed away.”

  “I remember her now,” Liam stated. “She was quiet in school, ran around with that one girl who was annoying. Forget her name, too, but she was obnoxious.”

  “Jade McKenzie. She wasn’t obnoxious,” Sophie corrected with that soft tone of hers. “She just didn’t take crap from people. I actually really liked her. But we’re getting off track. Livie, Jade, and another of their friends are staying with us for three days next week.”

  Liam nodded. “Fine.”

  “They didn’t request anything in particular,” Sophie went on. She stepped forward and touched Liam’s arm to get his attention. “But with Livie’s father just passing a few weeks ago, I figure this is a getaway for the girls to just relax and be there for each other. I know Livie and Jade are living in Atlanta, but the other girl isn’t from this area. At least, I didn’t recognize the name on the registration.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this?” Liam asked.

  “I think maybe we should go all out for them,” Sophie suggested with a little shrug. “You know, chocolate everything, wine always at the ready, even in their rooms.”

  Liam nodded. “I’ll make sure to cater to emotional women. Now, can I get back to work?”

  “You’re all heart,” Zach growled.

  Sophie and Zach finally left him to his preparations, and as Liam was stuffing the seasoned chicken, he realized how quiet things had gotten in his large kitchen. The kitchen at Magnolias had always been bustling, people coming at him from all directions. He’d been in his element there. Comfortable, happy.

  Now, though, he felt like he was only here out of obligation and duty. He loved Chelsea, missed her every single day. He would’ve done anything for her, but he also knew she wouldn’t want him here if this wasn’t where his heart was.

  Damn it. His loyalty wasn’t just to his brothers, but to his late sister. There was no clear answer as to what he should do. The list of pros and cons was too lengthy. All he could do was wait and see how his meeting went with Mark and go from there.

  Until then, though, he had dinner to make, and after he got off work he had some damage control to take care of. Chelsea was somewhere laughing at him over the fact he was going to go grovel to Macy and extend his services for the party. His sister would be proud of him stepping outside his comfort zone and taking an interest in something.

  Unfortunately, Liam was far more interested than he should be. And he knew the moment he offered his help, he’d be starting something he might never be able to finish . . . which would only leave one or both of them hurt.

  Chapter Nine

  Dinner with her dad had been great. He’d picked up a pizza and their favorite beer and had everything ready when Macy got home from the store. The paper plates were full and at the island bar just waiting for her.

  Though they lived separately now, they still looked out for each other. Macy’s dad knew how tired she’d been lately, but he had no clue the whole softball coach thing was keeping her up at night—mostly because she was going to have to tell one of the most influential people in her life no.

  Well, that wasn’t all that was keeping her awake. A certain chef who’d had her in knots for the past few months plagued her thoughts and starred in every fantasy.

  She’d just pulled on her favorite pair of shorts and an oversized, off-the-shoulder T-shirt when her doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting company, but in a small town like Haven, random visitors weren’t unheard of.

  As she bound down the steps, she pulled her hair up and knotted it with the band from her wrist.

  The sun was starting to set, but the warm glow coming in her front windows and door highlighted her visitor in all his beautiful, grouchy glory. Despite how they’d left things last night, her body still reacted to seeing him on her doorstep.

  Liam had never come to her house before. Dare she hope he was taking a step she’d been waiting on? Because she refused to give an inch—not anymore. She would’ve considered tossing all her warnings out the proverbial window had Liam not been so hell-bent on fighting the feelings between them.

  Macy pulled in a deep breath before she flicked the lock and opened the door. His hair curled a bit on the ends, his stubble indicated he hadn’t shaved today, and this rough exterior made him seem a bit more like his reckless brother, Zach. But Liam was much more intriguing, much sexier. He had that whole brooding complex down, but there was that underlying vulnerability that kept pulling her back in. Well, that and the fact the man could touch her and make her knees go weak in less than a second.

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  As much as she wanted to tell him no and slam the door in his face, she couldn’t deny those dark eyes looking back at her. She couldn’t deny him anything and that’s exactly how she found herself on this roller-coaster ride of frustrating emotions and raging hormones.

  Without a word, she stepped back and gestured for him to enter. Once he was inside, she closed the door, then turned to face him. She crossed her arms, waiting on him to state why he was here in her personal space. Now that he stood in her home, she realized just how small its entryway was. Every time she was near Liam he monopolized everything else and all her surroundings seemed to vanish. She should’ve told Tanner she’d go out with him yesterday when he’d stopped in. Maybe if she’d spent the time with someone else, she’d exorcise Liam right out of her mind.

  Not likely, but at this point she needed to try something besides beating her head against the proverbial wall.

  “Are you busy?” he asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as if he were uncertain.

  “No.”

  She wasn’t adding anything, wasn’t giving him anymore than what she had to. She’d already given enough last night.

  “I’m sorry.” He stepped forward, close enough to touch, but he kept his hands confined. “What happened was—”

  “Nothing,” she replied, lying through her teeth. “Is that all you came by for? You could’ve texted or called.”

  She started by him, but stopped short when his hand gripped her elbow. Pulling in a deep breath of courage, she was also gifted with that familiar masculine smell that could only be associated with Liam. The nerves in her belly expanded as they did when he was near. Why this man? Why did she have to be all torn up over the most infuriating man she’d ever met?

  “I needed to tell you in person.” His grip remained firm, but gentle. “I don’t want this between us.”

  She tipped her head, enough to look into his eyes. “What don’t you want between us? The tension or the fact that you now know my body better than I know yours? Or maybe you want to continue to run and totally ignore everything including the fact you want me.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked, his lips thinned as he closed his eyes. She waited, wondering if she’d gone too far, but she didn’t think so. She’d come apart against him, so what else did she have to hold back?

  “I came to help with your father’s party,” he told her, focusing those mesmerizing eyes back on her. “I want to call a truce. We can’t keep going on like this and I can’t help you if we’re constantly fighting each other. I just . . . want to help.”

  And then he went
and said things like this and she was a puddle of emotions. Damn it, this was why she found him so perfect. But he couldn’t be perfect, not for her anyway.

  “You don’t have to help with Dad’s party.” She stepped away from his grip before she did something insane like grab him back—by his mouth. “I can handle it.”

  “Really?” He turned now, raising a brow as if to call her bluff. Clearly she was amusing to him. “And what are you making?”

  Macy shrugged. “No idea, but I don’t want you helping me out of guilt.”

  “Oh, I feel guilty for letting things go too far last night and for how I treated you, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  Liam turned, glanced around, and set off toward the back of her house. “Kitchen back here?” he called over his shoulder.

  Seriously? Was he just going to come in and take over?

  “You’re not staying here,” she demanded as she followed. Damn him. He had long strides. “I don’t want your help.”

  Ignoring her, he started opening cabinets, moving down the line of her wall. He threw her a look, keeping the left side of his face tipped. “Of course you do. Unless you plan on serving your guests Pop-Tarts and microwave popcorn with an overdose of chemically enhanced butter.”

  “Don’t barge into my house and start picking apart my delicacies.”

  Liam snorted as he kept searching. The muttering under his breath would probably be offensive if she could hear him. Macy waited, wondering exactly what his plans were now that he was here. As much as she wanted to believe he wasn’t here out of guilt, she couldn’t help but feel his emotions over last night played some part. But she was in a bind. She wanted the best surprise party for her father, and if that meant she had to deal with the tension and chemistry with Liam, then she would.

  Besides, watching Liam move around her house sent a jolt through her she hadn’t known she’d been missing. He looked good—too good. Those faded jeans hugging his narrow hips, that dark T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and the wisps of hair that seemed to need trimming. The man exuded sex appeal . . . as if she needed more fuel for her inner fire.

  Blowing out a frustrated sigh, Liam turned to face her and crossed his arms over his chest. “You need to go to the store.”

  Macy jerked. “I just went two days ago. Were you planning on cooking right now? The party isn’t for two weeks.”

  “I’m not doing everything,” he told her. “You’re going to help, and in order to do that you’re going to learn some basics.”

  Macy blinked, sure she’d heard him wrong, but when he remained fixed in place, face void of emotions, she burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I don’t want to learn to cook. I’m terrible at it, in fact. If you want to help with the party, great. But if you’re going to torture both of us by making me play along, I’ll find another way.”

  Liam uncrossed his arms, slowly stepping toward her, all the while keeping those dark eyes focused on her. “Torture? I think we’ve tortured each other enough for a while, don’t you? This is us calling a truce, for real this time. I’m going to teach you simple things and you’re going to learn. That way when your dad is impressed with this party, you can tell him you did some of the baking.”

  Macy narrowed her eyes. “You’re not playing fair using my dad like that. You know I can’t resist now.”

  He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her face. “You’re going to have to stop resisting. That’s your first lesson.”

  Macy swallowed. She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the party any longer. But she needed to focus, and if they were indeed calling a truce, she wanted to learn something. She wanted her father to be proud of her. Of course he already was proud of how she ran the store, but she wanted to show him just how much she appreciated everything he’d ever done for her, the sacrifices he’d made to give her the best childhood ever.

  “Fine,” Macy relented. “You can teach me basics, but keep in mind when I say I’m terrible in the kitchen, I’m not exaggerating.”

  Liam tipped his head. “Nobody is that bad. You can read, can’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you can follow a recipe.”

  Macy shrugged. He’d find out soon enough that she wasn’t joking. Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to mention the time she left eggs out of a birthday cake, or the time she cooked the pecan pie for four hours because it still looked gooey in the middle. Oh, also best not to bring up the time the biscuits caught fire in the oven because she’d forgotten them and had been in the shower. She quickly remembered when the smoke alarm had started going off and then she slipped, nearly breaking her neck, buck naked covered with shampoo.

  Since moving into her new home, Macy hadn’t attempted any cooking, so the smoke alarm hadn’t been tested yet. Weren’t they supposed to be tested monthly?

  “First, we need to go over this junk in your refrigerator.”

  Macy moved around him and jerked the double doors open. Standing back, she surveyed the contents. “I see nothing wrong with my stock.”

  Reaching around her, Liam pulled out a container. “This is what you’re trying to call butter? It’s oil and processed garbage. I wouldn’t let Zach’s dogs have this.”

  Macy lifted her chin and glared over her shoulder. “I’ve never used anything else.”

  Liam groaned. “You’re a walking heart attack waiting to happen.”

  Rolling her eyes, Macy turned back toward the fridge. “I’ll take my chances. What else is wrong in here, oh grand food snob?”

  By the time Liam finished, all that was left in her fridge was the baking soda and bottles of water. Macy glanced at all of her food on the center island.

  “I don’t see how criticizing my groceries is going to make my dad’s party a success.”

  Leaning against the counter, Liam shrugged. “If you have terrible ingredients, such as processed nonsense, then the end result will be a disaster. You don’t want that, do you?”

  Macy threw her arms out. “Give up the guilt trip, all right? I’m going to let you teach me basics. You’re purging my fridge, and now you’re educating me on how unhealthy I’m eating. Don’t keep throwing my dad into the mix.”

  The uninjured side of Liam’s mouth quirked into a grin. That lopsided smile did so much to her insides that she worried this “truce” would be a short-lived one. He was too appealing, too much of an enigma that she wanted to get closer to.

  “You can either restock or come to my place,” he told her. “I can’t work here like this.”

  Macy laughed. “I had no idea my kitchen was so appalling. I’ve never had a problem here. Let’s just go to your place, because I’m more than fine with my stuff and I’m not changing simply because you don’t like my stock.”

  He jerked his head. “Let’s go then. I’ll drive.”

  “I can follow you.”

  “I’ll bring you back.”

  He left the house as if there was no room for argument. Well, okay then. Clearly he wanted control and a part of her found that sexy as hell, though she normally found an overbearing man to be a total turnoff. For some reason that whole dominant, alpha male thing worked well with Liam. Everything about Liam worked for her, actually. Well, except for that whole truce thing. She could seriously do without that because she was ready for him to take charge, rip her clothes off, and show more of that side she’d seen last night.

  Because when that man let loose, he seriously could make a woman fall at his feet and beg.

  No, she couldn’t fall. That would mean he had all the power and she refused to let that happen again. She’d said some ugly things last night, hurtful things. Liam was nothing like the guy who’d hurt her. To even compare the two was like comparing good and evil, and it wasn’t fair to Liam.

  As she followed him, she grabbed her house keys off the side table by the door, shoved her feet into her favorite cowgirl boots, and locked up. Night had settled in and she couldn’t believe she was
actually going to his apartment, her old childhood home, for a cooking lesson of all things. How the hell had she managed to find herself in this predicament?

  Oh, yeah. She wanted her father to have the best surprise party ever and she couldn’t say no to Liam Monroe.

  Maybe she’d end up begging after all before the night was over.

  * * *

  Clearly all common sense had flown out the window. What was he thinking bringing her back to his apartment? Not only that, he’d been adamant about driving her. Yes, he wanted to get to know her more, away from the sexual tension and more on friendly terms, but he should’ve let her drive herself.

  Liam led the way up the back steps and unlocked the door. After reaching in and flicking on the light, he gestured for her to enter ahead of him.

  “I feel ridiculous inviting you into your own place,” he told her as he hung his keys on the hook by the door.

  Macy’s smile instantly warmed him. “It’s your place now.”

  “This will always be yours,” he countered. “I won’t be here forever.”

  Liam was glad he’d picked up the place earlier. Not that he was a slob, and it wasn’t as if he had unpacked all of his belongings. But the occasional shirt or shoes were left out, or glasses on the end table. Typical guy living, but he was meticulous when it came to his kitchen. And this apartment, for being a small space, was pretty amazing.

  Phil Hayward had outdone himself on the renovating, and even though Liam was used to top of the line, the appliances and countertops weren’t too far from the best. Of course Phil most likely was able to get all of this at cost, so upgrades were more affordable.

  “You’ve not really done much with the place,” Macy commented, running her hand along the back of the leather sofa. “I mean, it’s the same, but a little different. Definitely more masculine, like a bachelor pad. My mother would want to add some throw pillows or a few pictures if she were here.”

  The wistfulness in her tone had him wanting to move toward her, but if she was feeling emotional, the last thing either of them needed was him trying to comfort her. Comfort led to touching, which led to hugging, which led to kissing, and the last time he’d kissed her he’d ended up with his hand in her pants and she’d been trembling in his arms.