On the Market (The Ballard Brothers of Darling Bay Book 1)

by Rachael Herron

  There was a very good chance they’d both make it safe to shore.

  And there was an even better chance that she’d be hopelessly in love with Liam by the time they got there.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The towels were waiting for them on the beach, and Felicia was glad. It was one thing to be naked in front of her staff on a pier with excitement coursing through her, and another thing to be naked while shaking and wet and almost-but-not-quite terrified. Her teeth chattered, and Anna had to help her get her dress over her head.

  Liam was done dressing before she was, and looked even better post-dunking, if that was possible. His wet hair was slicked back, water still dripping to his shirt. His eyes blazed bright blue. Something about the jump had made him more comfortable in front of the cameras. “Are you ready for phase two of today’s activities?”

  “Does it involve heat of any sort?”

  “Hot toddy?”

  “Yes. Now, please.”

  “Come on, then. Just a short walk from here.” He took her hand and Felicia shivered for the hundredth time, even though she wasn’t cold anymore.

  Caprese was one of the restaurants on the laminated sheet in her room at the Cat’s Meow. “Elegant,” she said. “I read they’ll deliver you fresh garlic crab with enough notice.”

  “In season, they make a killing doing that. It’s honestly just a fish joint, but it’s our fish joint—Jake sells his catch here—so we like it.”

  Liam held open the door, and Felicia’s stomach flipped. She was a feminist. If a man held open a door for her, she made a mental note to get his door next time. That was only fair.

  But this was different. Something about the way Liam looked at her when he held open the door, the way he sheltered her body as she passed him, made her feel…safe. Cherished.

  Was that what holding a door could mean? That you cherished someone?

  Liam’s gaze made her feel beautiful. Plain and simple.

  The hostess seated them at a small table that stood against the glass window. The room itself was simple, decorated with red tablecloths and white candles. With its view, it didn’t need more adornment. The restaurant sat on a platform over the water, and three glass walls let the marina view inside. Outside, yachts and catamarans bobbed next to bigger fishing trawlers. The last rays of the sun set lit the sky to the west, and the water was dark with pewter tips where the wind capped the waves.

  Felicia fiddled with her napkin, tugging on the corner of it. When had she been on a date that mattered? Ever? Her only two long-term relationships had come out of friendships, and the dating had been casual at best. Felicia had never sat across the table from a man as handsome as Liam who wasn’t either a studio executive or a hopeful actor.

  And she’d never felt nerves like these, the ones that tingled down her arms all the way to her fingertips.

  This could be the real thing. Or this could just be the fantasy.

  The sheer contradiction of the two things made Felicia catch her breath. How could she have confused them for so long?

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  She believed him, that was the strange thing. She stretched her fingers out, and he caught her hands. “Well, you’re amazing.”

  “It’s like we’re on television or something.”

  Oh, god.

  For one wonderful second, she’d forgotten about the camera crew. Sure, they’d followed them in, but Felicia was so used to being around their gear that somehow she’d forgotten she was the focus.

  She and Liam.

  They were actually creating the fantasy, building it. Women around the nation would sit cross-legged on their couches, chugging large glasses of red wine while wishing they were Felicia, that their husbands were Liam.

  They were the fantasy, so what did that mean?

  Felicia took her hands back and opened the menu, but her brain forgot how to read. She studied each line carefully, absorbing not a single appetizer or entrée.

  If they were the fantasy, then it logically followed that they weren’t the real thing.

  Nothing was as good as the fantasy. Real life was a disappointment—always. That’s the way the world worked. And on-screen lives—the lives she filmed—those she could control. Those were feelings she could work with so they didn’t threaten to rise up and swamp her, taking her down to the bottom. Earlier, she’d popped to the surface of the ocean, but that was because Liam had been beside her.

  Liam leaned forward. “What is going on in your head right now? Is the menu that bad? Do you not like fish?”

  “What are we doing?” She gestured around the empty dining room. The network had bought out the room, like it always did. It wouldn’t do to have a cackling tourist wearing a tacky shirt in the background. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Talk to me.”

  She couldn’t. This was her job, to create and maintain a dream world, one that people who didn’t have family could escape into. So she just shook her head. She closed her eyes, and imagined she could feel the building rocking in the waves underneath them.

  “What are you feeling?”

  Had he felt it, too? Her eyes flew open. “Is the building actually moving?” Or was she now imagining things, the feeling of her moorings loosening, drifting?

  Liam smiled. “It rocks a little bit when the bigger waves hit. But that’s not what I meant. What are you feeling about this? About us?”

  “I can’t—we should just figure out what we want to eat.” They could edit this part out later. All they really needed on film were a few seconds in this restaurant, a couple of smiles. That would be enough to frost the dream cupcake.

  “I want to do this with you.”

  “Good. I’m glad. It’s going to be a good show.” Felicia could be polite all night. She could cry later.

  “No.” He glanced to the left at Tony, and then shook his head, as if trying to forget he’d looked. “I want to do all of this with you. I don’t want this to be about just the house of your dreams. I want this…”

  He drew a deep breath, and Felicia felt her own chest rise to match it.

  “I don’t care that we’re on TV. I would want this no matter what. From the moment I first saw you in my kitchen, confused by the sight of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I haven’t been able to think about anything else except seeing you again. I know it’s too soon, and too fast, and I know that were on national television right now, but we weren’t the other night.”

  In her peripheral vision, Felicia saw Anna shoot a look at Tony.

  No, they couldn’t know about the other night. That was theirs alone. “Liam—I know that—”

  “I’m falling in love with you. And I’m terrified that you’re going to say that this is only about the house, only about the show. I’m terrified that…” He looked down at his salad fork.

  He was terrified that he wasn’t lovable enough. She could see it in the tension in his eyes, in the way his body seemed ready for flight.

  She was falling, too.

  She was falling so damn hard. But she couldn’t say it, couldn’t spit it out in front of the cameras. It wouldn’t be real if she said it while she was on the clock.

  It wasn’t fair—he’d set his heart between them on the table as if it were an amuse-bouche, and it sat there, beating so loudly she could almost hear it. She had to tell him how she felt—but that would be admitting she felt it—and she should do it fast—but the cameras were watching, and she wanted it to be real.

  But the cameras couldn’t see under the table.

  She stealthily eased her foot free from one pump and slid her bare toes under his pants leg. The questioning look didn’t leave his face, but some of the tension melted from his shoulders.

  A cell phone rang. Liam jumped and reached in his coat pocket. “I put it on silent, but Timbo can always ring through. I’m just going to get this real quick.” He hurried toward the front door, the phone at his ear. Tony followed.

  Anna took the opportunit
y to scurry forward. “This is amazing. Is this scripted? Because I honestly can’t tell.”

  Felicia shook her head, still unable to speak.

  “Whatever it is, it’s filming great. Like, On the Market is going to be huge. Hashtag Team Liam. I can see it now. Whatever you and Natasha cooked up, I approve. This is good shit.” Anna glanced at her iPad. “Speaking of her, she’s been blowing up my phone. Have you checked yours?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  Felicia checked her cell. Four missed calls and twelve texts, all from Natasha. Quickly, she swiped through the texts.

  I need you here.

  Drop what you’re doing. The Allens talked, even with the NDA.

  The Allens were a couple from their reality wedding series—if they went public with how much they were paid to sleep in the same bed, even after John Allen’s affair—it wouldn’t look good for the network. It was currently their biggest money-maker, and they couldn’t lose that.

  Felicia swiped to the next message.

  If we slap them with a lawsuit fast enough, we might get them to shut up, but I think it’s too late.

  Felicia’s head started to ache.

  Dammit, answer me!

  First plane, get on it. I’m not kidding.

  She was getting nauseated.

  We can reshoot whatever it is you’re doing. That show doesn’t matter, not right now. Get here.

  In the corner of her eye, she saw Liam hurrying back through the empty dining room. His brows were drawn together, his gait quick.

  Felicia placed her cell face down on the table, her fingers icy. “Are you all right?”

  “I hate to do this, but Timbo’s gotten himself arrested. I have to rain check this, and I hate that so much that it hurts.”

  “It’s fine. Go.” She should tell him she had to fly to LA. She should tell him so much more than that. But there wasn’t time.

  Liam stooped and kissed her. It was fast and light, a goodbye kiss.

  “Bye,” was all she said. She kept her hand on top of her phone until he was gone, as if it were a poisonous insect she had to protect him from.

  Her heart hurt. Ached, actually, with something she didn’t—couldn’t—name.

  Then she picked up her cell and started texting back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “Arrested.” Liam didn’t know when he’d been more disappointed, and he was sure at least eighty percent of it was because of Timbo’s actions, not because he’d had to leave Felicia behind at the restaurant.

  “It’s not that big of a deal.” Timbo kept his face pointed out the car window, so Liam couldn’t tell what his expression was.

  “You got arrested for graffiti. You know what that looks like on the record of a boy like you?”

  “A boy like me? Really?” Timbo turtled his neck and hunched into his hoodie.

  “You know you have to consider what the rest of the world thinks. They look at your skin color, they’ll think you’re trouble. You have a greater chance of getting pulled over, of getting shot. Every time you leave the house, I worry.”

  “It was just some tagging. I’ll clean it off.”

  Anger rose in Liam, and he clutched the steering wheel more tightly. “That’s the point, you don’t get to just clean this one up and get away with it. A penis on her garage door, really? Mrs. Doyle wants to prosecute.”

  A shrug was his answer.

  “That doesn’t freak you out?”

  “It’s a misdemeanor. I’m a minor. No big.”

  Liam yanked the wheel and pulled in the driveway. The fact that Timbo knew both of those things infuriated him. A kid shouldn’t know that a misdemeanor wasn’t a big deal, and a kid shouldn’t know that his under-eighteen records would eventually be sealed. But kids knew that today, even the good ones.

  And god bless it, Timbo was one of the good ones. He was a freaking great one. But all it took was one wrong step, and he’d be right on the path his mother took before him. Liam knew there was nothing down that path but heartbreak, and he sure as hell didn’t want to watch the boy he loved fall down it.

  His phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but it was probably something about Timbo. “Go inside. We’ll talk more in a minute.”

  Timbo slammed the car door behind him. No surprise there.

  “Hello?”

  “Liam? This is Natasha Nguyen, from the network.”

  Good grief, had he blown the whole show by leaving the date? For a second he remembered Felicia’s face as he told her he was falling in love with her. He could’ve sworn she was close to saying something similar back to him. “It was a family emergency. I couldn’t get out of it, but I swear to you I’m still very much interested in the project. My brothers and I all are. We’re taking it very seriously.”

  Her voice filled his speakers over the car’s Bluetooth. “Oh, you didn’t do a thing wrong. On the contrary. I’m calling to apologize to you for ripping our Felicia away from you so unceremoniously. I have a major fire, and she’s the only one good enough to help me put it out. I’ll only need to borrow her for a few days, a week at the most.”

  “I’m confused. Felicia’s where?” It hadn’t even been two hours since he got the call from Sheriff McMurtry.

  “She’s already in the air, I’m afraid. She asked me to send you her apologies.”

  “Of course. But—”

  “The show goes on, and I’m sorry for that. We’ll have the camera crew in with your brothers as they complete the work this week, but what I need from you is a little bit bigger.”

  How bad was this going to be? “Yeah?”

  “Since we didn’t get enough footage today of your date, I need a reassurance from you that you’d be comfortable being filmed with Felicia in the future.”

  None of this made sense. “I don’t get it.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not being clear. Felicia has made it clear to me that she’s legitimately interested in you. To be honest, this kind of boggles my mind – she’s married to her work, and that’s what I love about her. What I’m hoping to hear from you is that you wouldn’t mind re-creating some scenes with her, to fill in the blanks. It’s a short episode, we don’t need many more. Maybe just a couple.”

  All Liam could focus on was that his hunch—his hope—was confirmed. Legitimately interested. It wasn’t very romantic, but it sure as hell would do. “Of course, whatever you all need from me, I’m happy to do.”

  A light tinkle of laughter filled his car. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that. Before Felicia gets back, I’d love to get a couple of diary cams filmed. I loved the first one you did—”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know, the one where you said you weren’t lovable. I don’t know if you’re naïve or a genius, and I don’t care. The more unlovable you say you are on screen, the more lovable it automatically makes you.”

  Liam’s throat itched. “That was supposed to be erased.”

  “Erased?” Natasha laughed again. “Oh, no, darling, that would be terrible. It’s gold, I’m surprised Felicia didn’t tell you that.”

  “I’m not—”

  “But really, what I’m looking for is just a touch more. If we could get you on camera looking emotionally vulnerable, that would be amazing. And I know it doesn’t all come down to money, but cash is king, I find.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m offering you ten thousand more to talk on camera about your parents wanting nothing to do with you.” The mirth was gone from her voice.

  She was actually fucking serious.

  And that wasn’t the worst part. “Felicia told you about that?” When? That very night? While he’d slept naked on the sofa and she’d worked, literally still lying in his arms?

  “Don’t be mad at her, that’s her job. She gets me the goods, and I make them really good. I squeeze the juice out. Abandoned by your parents and by your fiancé—the whole world will love yo
u.”

  If Jake found out that their father hadn’t wanted him—if Aidan found out that their mother had been going to leave him behind—it was unthinkable. And if they knew no one had wanted Liam, they’d be devastated on his behalf. They’d be outraged. He’d never told a single soul. Bill had been the only one who’d known, and Liam had been planning on taking it to his grave, just like Bill had. “No.”

  “Twenty thousand.”

  “This isn’t up for discussion.”

  “Twenty-five, but I swear to god I can’t go higher. I’ve already spent too much on this show.”

  Liam heard a sharp crack. In his left hand he held the turn signal, which he’d somehow snapped off, without trying. He let it go, and it dangled from its interior wire.

  “Liam?”

  “I can’t believe she told you.”

  “Think about it, okay? I’ll call you again tomorrow. And I said I couldn’t go higher, but if you throw in the part about your foster kid having the same kind of parents you did, I’ll come up with an all-expenses Disney cruise for you and the kid and your brothers and whoever else you want to bring.”

  There was a quick buzz, and then empty silence.

  Liam held his hands in front of him. He looked at the backs of them and then turned them slowly so he was looking at the palms. Both of his brothers had been in plenty of fights growing up, and not just with each other. They’d fought on the playground, and more than once they’d fought as men, usually for stupid reasons. Liam had punched Aidan in the ear when he was fourteen, but he hadn’t been drawn to violence since.

  Now, he felt like hitting something. Anything. If he’d had a punching bag, he would have bloodied his hands on it. He considered going to the Golden Spike and seeing if he could nudge Damien Scandi into anger. Damien Scandi always wanted to fight someone.

  Felicia had asked him, point blank, to tell her his biggest fear. He had. And he’d told her the why behind it.

  Then Felicia had told a woman who would tell the rest of the world.