Loving the Storm

by Linda Seed

  It occurred to her that if she was going to have trouble keeping her distance from Liam Delaney, then maybe it was best if she didn’t have anything to do with him at all.

  He was too dangerous.

  But even as she was thinking it, her body was still vibrating with the fire Liam had ignited in her. Had she ever felt anything so … so intense? So powerful? So world-shakingly profound?

  She was beginning to sound to herself like one of those silly, stereotypical women who let a guy under her skirt and then thought it was love.

  This was not love, and it wasn’t going to become love.

  Not if she had any say in the matter.

  Liam left the barn feeling pissed off and out of sorts.

  Which didn’t make any sense, since he’d just gotten laid in the middle of the workday. Whenever that happened, you could generally consider it a good day. Except he didn’t feel good at all—not at the moment.

  Maybe that was why he decided to pick a fight with Ryan.

  Ryan had called on his cell phone to say that he’d gotten his truck stuck in the mud out in the southwest pasture, and he wanted Liam to come out with the four-wheel drive and tow it out of there.

  When Liam showed up with his F-150, he was already in a mood that had nothing to do with Ryan—though Ryan took the brunt of it anyway.

  “Why the fuck did you take your goddamned truck out into the pasture in the rain?” Liam demanded. He’d started in before he was even fully out of the truck.

  “Well, hello to you, too, Liam,” Ryan said mildly. His boots were ankle-high in mud, and he looked like the cocker spaniel they’d had as kids after it fell into the creek.

  Liam looked at Ryan’s truck, which was bogged down halfway up its tires in sticky mud.

  “Of all the stupid, boneheaded, dumbass …”

  “I brought the truck out because there’s a break in the fence and I didn’t feel much like hauling fence posts and barbed wire on the back of a horse,” Ryan said, keeping his tone neutral. “If it’s any of your business, which I don’t figure it is.”

  “You made it my business when you called me out here to rescue your ass,” Liam said.

  “Well, I’m going to knock you on yours if you don’t stop taking whatever’s bothering you out on me.” Ryan rarely got mad, and he didn’t appear to be mad now. He was simply stating a fact.

  Having his bad behavior laid out for him in such straightforward terms caused Liam to deflate a little. “Aw, hell,” he said.

  Ryan clapped Liam once on the back. “Let’s get the truck out of the mud, and then we can talk about whatever’s going on with you.”

  “Like hell,” Liam grumbled. “I’ll get your truck out of the goddamned mud, but I’m not talking about my damned feelings.”

  “Well, that’s a relief, because I didn’t really want to hear about them,” Ryan said. “Now, are you going to put on the tow strap, or do I have to do everything?”

  Liam had said he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. But after he’d dragged the truck out of the mud and had helped Ryan to repair the break in the fence, he found himself doing just that.

  They’d gone into the stables to get out of the rain, both of them soaked and muddy, and Liam started in before he even realized he was going to do it.

  “I saw Aria today,” he said. He sat down on an overturned bucket and wiped water off his face with his hands.

  “Well, color me surprised that your mood has something to do with a woman,” Ryan said.

  “Ah, fuck off if you’re gonna—”

  “Sorry,” Ryan said. “Go on.”

  The stable was dry and relatively warm, and the smells of horse, sweet hay, and wet animal hair surrounded them. Having grown up with the smells, Liam found them comforting.

  “She and I kind of … you know …”

  “You hooked up again,” Ryan provided.

  “Yeah.”

  “And, what? It was unsatisfactory?”

  “Unsatisfactory?” Liam looked at him incredulously. “Hell, it practically blew the top of my damned head off.”

  Ryan pulled up a bucket, turned it upside down, and sat down next to Liam. “Well, that’s good news then, right?”

  “You’d think so. Except, when it was over, she couldn’t get me out of there fast enough. I don’t know what the hell went wrong.”

  Ryan’s eyebrows rose. “Was it maybe … Shit, I don’t know how to ask this.… Was it maybe not as consensual as you thought it was?”

  Liam’s expression turned dark. “What kind of Neanderthal asshole do you think I am?”

  “I don’t,” Ryan said. “But sometimes signals get crossed. People think they’re on the same page, but they’re not.”

  Of course, Liam had wondered the same thing himself. Getting mad at Ryan was just a matter of habit.

  “I asked her about that,” he said, scowling. “She pointed out that the whole thing had been her idea. Which it was.”

  “Huh. Maybe you’re just lousy in the sack,” Ryan suggested.

  “Bite me. Asshole.”

  Ryan gave Liam a half grin and got up off his bucket. “Well, maybe she regretted it, for whatever reason. Or maybe she’s upset about something that has nothing to do with you. Either way, you could find out. Maybe have a conversation with her.”

  “I tried. She wouldn’t talk. She just wanted me to leave.”

  “Women are an eternal mystery,” Ryan observed.

  “Yeah, but the thing is … I just want to know that she’s okay.”

  Ryan considered that for a minute. “Well … Gen talks to her. You want me to have her check in?”

  “Ah, hell.” Liam rubbed at the stubble on his chin. Sending Gen to do what he should be doing on his own seemed … unmanly. And yet, it might work. “Yeah. Would you? I just … I want to know what I did. If I did anything. I don’t want to be that asshole who hurts a woman and doesn’t even realize it happened.”

  Liam got up and headed for the stable door.

  “Liam?”

  He turned back to look at his brother.

  “You’re not that asshole,” Ryan said.

  “Ah … shut up,” Liam said, embarrassed. He went out into the rain to finish his day of work.

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time Gen showed up to check on Aria, the old barn was empty except for the sound of rain on the roof and the partially constructed yurt inside, like the abandoned shell of some giant, long-deceased tortoise.

  Gen found Aria in the guesthouse. She opened the door to Gen’s knock wearing sweatpants and an old gray sweater, a glass of wine in her hand. Her face was free of makeup, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, loose strands framing her face.

  “Oh. Gen.” Aria knew the greeting sounded less than enthusiastic—which it was.

  “Hi. I just … you know. Wanted to drop by to say hello.”

  It was clear that Gen was uncomfortable about being here, and it took Aria less than a minute to figure out why.

  “You might as well come in,” she told Gen, stepping back to allow her to enter. “You’re not going to get the dirt on what’s going on with me standing out there in the rain.”

  Gen feigned surprise. “What? I’m not—”

  “Please.”

  Gen’s shoulders fell. “Okay, maybe I am.” She came into the little house, which was warm from the fire in the fireplace. She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a rack near the door. Then she put one hand to her lower back in a posture common to hugely pregnant women everywhere.

  “Listen, I just wanted—”

  “Liam sent you,” Aria said, cutting her off.

  “Well … Ryan, actually.”

  “So, Liam told Ryan and Ryan told you? Is there anyone on the property who doesn’t know that Liam and I had sex in the barn this afternoon?”

  Gen’s eyes widened. “Well, I didn’t know until just now.”

  Aria could tell from her expression that it was true. She smacked her f
ace with her hand. “Oh, God.”

  “So, you and Liam in the barn, huh?” Gen said, impressed. “One time Ryan and I—”

  “Genevieve,” Aria said, stopping her.

  “Sorry.”

  The conversation had been confusing so far, and Aria felt a little disoriented. “So, if you didn’t know, then why … ?”

  “Ryan said I should come and check on you, but he didn’t say why. He only told me that Liam said you’d seemed upset about something.” Gen hadn’t exactly been invited to sit down, but she did anyway, settling in on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

  “Oh. Well, that was … gentlemanly,” Aria said. Liam had probably told his brother exactly what had happened, but Ryan had kept his mouth shut about the details. It spoke well of him.

  “Yes. That’s my husband,” Gen said fondly. She eyed the wineglass in Aria’s hand. “God, I wish I could have some of that. Any time now.” She laid a hand on her midsection as if to remind herself of the reason she was depriving herself.

  “I’ve got some Perrier,” Aria said.

  “Great. I’ll take it.”

  Aria went into the kitchen to put the sparkling water into a glass with some ice. Then she came back, gave Gen the glass, and perched her butt on the arm of the sofa.

  “It was nice of you to come and check on me,” she told Gen. “But unnecessary. I’m fine.”

  “Are you?” Gen cocked her head to the side and peered at Aria. “Because you seem a little”—she searched for a word—“out of sorts.”

  Aria was out of sorts, and it did have to do with Liam. And it would be nice to talk to someone. On the other hand, Gen was Liam’s sister-in-law, so if there were sides to be taken, she’d probably come down on his. Plus, Aria didn’t necessarily want Gen prying into things better left alone.

  Still, she was here, and Aria was here, and Aria was on her second glass of wine …

  “I never should have gotten things started with him,” Aria said miserably.

  “Well, I know Liam can be a bit of a challenge …” Gen began.

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what?” Gen looked at her with interest.

  “It’s just … God! We’ve had two … encounters, I guess you could say … and afterward, he’s sweet! And he wants to stay and talk, and he wants us to hold each other, and I guess that’s fine for some people. I mean, I know it is. But I don’t do that sort of thing!”

  Gen rubbed at her face as though she were just waking up from a nap. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me the problem is that Liam is too nice to you?”

  “Yes! Sort of! Why can’t he just … you know. Be great in bed and then go?”

  Gen’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Was he great in bed? Wait! No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, because whatever the answer is, I’ll never get it out of my head.”

  Aria slumped onto the sofa cushions miserably.

  Gen shifted in her seat a little—with some difficulty—to face Aria. “I don’t think I’m out of line saying this, but there are women who actually like it when a man is sweet after sex. They especially like it when he wants to stay around.”

  Of course Gen couldn’t understand where she was coming from on this. Gen probably was emotionally healthy, capable of sustaining long-term relationships that were nurturing and mutually fulfilling. She was married to Ryan and having his baby, and that seemed like a good indication. How could Aria explain her own essential dysfunction to someone who’d never experienced it herself? She’d sound like an idiot. She’d sound crazy.

  “Aria,” Gen said, her voice soft and reassuring, “I know we don’t know each other all that well. But what’s going on?”

  Aria got up from her seat and started to pace in front of the fireplace, the wineglass in her hand. She downed the contents, then put the glass on a side table.

  “What’s going on is that I don’t want to get into a relationship. I don’t want to get into a … a big thing. I just want a little mutually satisfying fun, and then I want to be able to walk away.”

  “Well, Liam’s a grown man,” Gen said. “If that’s what you want, tell him. He’s capable of understanding that. And then he can make his own decisions about whether he wants the same thing.”

  “You don’t get it,” Aria said.

  “Isn’t that what I’ve been saying since I walked in the door?” Gen threw her hands up in exasperation. “I really don’t get it. So explain it to me.”

  “The problem isn’t Liam. It’s me.” She felt a little quivery inside, maybe from thinking about Liam, or maybe because what she’d just said was more honest information about herself than she was used to sharing.

  “Go on,” Gen prompted her.

  “When he wanted to stay? I … I wanted that, too. I didn’t want him to go.”

  “Okay,” Gen said.

  “It’s just … the sex,” Aria said miserably. “It was … I mean, I never … Well, I have, but …”

  Gen nodded knowingly. “It was too good.”

  Aria stopped, started to say something, and then thought better of it.

  Gen went on, “The sex was so mind-blowingly good that it’s like you’ve been sprinkled with fairy dust and unicorns, and now you’re thinking about things like kids and Christmas mornings and twentieth wedding anniversaries. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

  Was that what was happening to her? Aria realized that it was.

  “Well … what happened with you?”

  “I ended up married and pregnant,” Gen said, looking satisfied with herself. She rubbed her baby bump lovingly.

  “Well … that’s not what’s going to happen with me and Liam. I just … If we’re going to be together now and then for great sex, that’s fine, but he can’t be all sweet afterward, wanting to hang around and talk and … and cuddle.”

  Gen wrinkled her nose. “Liam’s a cuddler? I wouldn’t have thought.”

  “Not with me, because I didn’t let it get that far,” Aria said.

  “But why not?” Gen seemed genuinely curious, as though she were examining a scientific specimen under a microscope.

  “Because … I’m just not going there.”

  Gen rearranged herself carefully on the sofa, either because pregnancy made her uncomfortable or to buy herself some time to think about how to say what was on her mind.

  “I looked into you,” she said at last. “When you applied for the residency. It’s part of the process. I talked to people about you, and … I researched you.”

  Aria felt a thin chill of dread run through her.

  “And?”

  “And, what I found out is that nobody knows you. Not really. They know your art, and they know your education, but … nobody I talked to claims to really know you.”

  Aria straightened her spine and gave Gen a look of steely defensiveness.

  “At the risk of repeating myself: and?”

  “And, I’m just wondering what’s going on. Look, if you’ve got something in your past that’s making it hard for you to … I don’t know … to have a connection with Liam, you can talk to me about it. I can listen. I know it’s none of my business, but …”

  “It really is none of your business.”

  Neither of them said anything for a moment, and the air was thick with tension and potential hurt feelings. At last, Gen got up from the sofa, straightened her dress, and picked up her purse.

  “I’m sorry for prying. I’ll just go.”

  Aria knew she should apologize. Gen was reaching out to her, and Aria had been rude—every bit as rude as she’d been to Liam earlier that day. She knew Gen was trying to help, and she knew that was what people did—they talked about the things that mattered to them, and they formed relationships with other people. She knew, intellectually, that it was normal and healthy. But she didn’t know if she was capable of it.

  “Thank you for coming by,” Aria said, forcing a little warmth into her tone.

  When they were both at the door of the cott
age and Gen was pulling on her coat, she paused and turned to Aria.

  “I meant what I said before. If you want to talk, I’m available.”

  “It was kind of you to check on me,” Aria said, “but you can tell your husband and Liam that I’m fine.”

  Gen looked her over with an appraising gaze. “I’ll do that.”

  Once Gen was gone, Aria went back to feeling like shit.

  This residency was important for her career. Gen had connections—important connections that she intended to use to get Aria’s new piece shown in an influential gallery.

  Landing the residency was a coup for Aria. And what was she doing with it? She was getting entangled in a romantic mess instead of focusing on her work, and she was insulting and alienating the person she was counting on to help her take her art to the next level and get her the attention she needed to promote it.

  She needed to focus, that was all. She needed to stop sleeping with Liam, stop getting into personal conversations with Gen, and stop letting herself get distracted by things that could only end badly.

  One thing she wasn’t going to do was spill her guts to Gen, or to anyone else. So what if she didn’t want her past on full display for anyone who wanted to examine it? So what if she valued her privacy? She didn’t owe an explanation to Gen or to anyone. Her past was her own.

  And if it was preventing her from going anywhere beyond the physical with Liam, then that was just how things were.

  She rubbed her face with her hands. “Damn it.”

  Another glass of wine seemed like a really good idea right now. She went to the kitchen to pour one.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Liam had too much shit to deal with in his day-to-day life without adding woman problems to the list.

  He had the ranch. He had his continuing grief over his uncle, which he felt every day, in ways big and small, both predictable and surprising. He had a leg that didn’t work right and might never be at one hundred percent again. And he had the stinging sadness of knowing that his ex was even now picking out throw pillows and potted plants for his cousin Drew’s house.

  He had a full schedule of crap to cope with, even without Aria Howard added to the mix.