by York, Zoe
She dished out the colourful spoonfuls of lentils mixed with couscous, spinach, red pepper, tomato, garlic, onion and a creamy dressing that he suspected was made of lemons and ground up seeds, but he didn’t care because it was freaking delicious.
“I’m surprised you didn’t push for pizza after working so hard this afternoon,” she said.
“Maybe I want to be on your good side tonight.” He shot her a heated glance. He wasn’t going to push her. He didn’t think. But damn, he wanted to. He wanted to slide that plaid shirt slowly off her body, and cover the revealed bare skin with his hands and mouth and body.
She blushed. “Would it shock you if I said I thought we should slow things down?”
His mind screeched to a halt. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Slow down from their already glacial pace? “Maybe, yeah. Why?”
“There’s still a lot I want to know about you.”
“Okay.” It really wasn’t, but she had him over a barrel.
“And I think…maybe it’s my pregnancy hormones, or something, but you’ve got the wrong idea about me.”
His jaw twitched. “Evie, don’t do this.”
She swallowed hard. “I know I’m sending mixed messages, and I don’t mean to.”
“You’re not sending them to me, sweetheart. You’re sending them to yourself.”
“What do you think is going to happen between us?”
“Clearly nothing. But a guy’s gotta have an impossible fantasy.”
“I’m no fantasy.”
“You keep telling yourself that, sunshine.” Damn. He didn’t want to be mad. He didn’t want to be chippy and bitter, but enough was enough.
Evie tried not to think about what that fantasy might be. She chewed the last few bites of her dinner carefully, then carried her bowl to the kitchen sink and washed it out. She returned to the table, grabbed her glass, and repeated the action.
Liam smirked as she returned once again, and when she silently gestured at his bowl, he held up his hands in surrender. She grabbed both his bowl and his glass, to avoid being laughed at again, and after cleaning and drying all of the dishes, she paced back and forth in the kitchen. Inside her tummy, Liam’s daughter took great delight at her mother’s activity and started doing her own acrobatics.
She was playing with fire, but hell, she’d already been burnt. And it was Liam. If she could trust anyone, it was him, even if she’d pushed and pulled and pushed more than was fair. Her pulse picked up. Could she? She took a deep breath and turned around, only to find him standing in the doorway. Liam in her kitchen was becoming a regular occurrence.
“Okay, tell me.”
He narrowed his gaze, like he wasn’t expecting that to be her tack. “Tell you what?”
“What’s your impossible fantasy?”
“Evie, you don’t want to do this.”
“Don’t tell me what I want.” Even as the words were spilling out of her mouth, she knew they were the wrong choice.
His lips twitched, and he shifted his shoulders back and forth. “Then how can I tell you my fantasy?”
This was a dangerous game. And she didn’t care. She leveled him with an even glare and adopted her best couldn’t-care-less attitude. “We need to get this out into the open and deal with it. Tell me what you want, I’ll tell you how it won’t happen, and we can move on.”
His jaw twitched. “And what, just be friends?”
She nodded, then shook her head. “No. Not just friends…but for the next while. Until…” She puffed out her cheeks. “Damnit, Liam, I don’t know, but you make me want things that I know will just break my heart in the end.”
“You want me to tell you that I want you underneath me, naked in my bed.” He stood up straighter and crossed his arms. “That I want you to give me control for a night, let me lick, suck, fuck you into oblivion.” His bicep flexed under his tight t-shirt and she shivered. “That I want you wet and ready for me to make you come, over and over again, all night long. That’s what you want to hear?”
Every part of her was wound tight. Most of it was anxiety, but at her very core, she knew she was aroused. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Right. See, that’s my point. Liam, I’m not that kind of woman.” It sounded thin even to her own ears. She flushed. “I’m not interested in meaningless sex.”
He fisted his hands in front of his face and groaned. Evie swallowed hard and stood firm, even as he advanced toward her. His face was unreadable. “Sunshine, when you spit out a lie and a truth at the same time, it makes this very complicated.”
She shook her head. “I’m not lying.”
He stopped a foot away. She could feel tension rolling off his body in hot waves. “Yes, you are. But I’ll ignore that, because I lied too.”
She huffed a burst of air instead of asking. He was going to tell her anyway.
“That’s a pretty awesome fantasy, and yes, I want all of that. Particularly the part about you being naked. That features front and center in all of my fantasies right now. But my impossible fantasy? The one that tortures me? That’s where you finally admit that I’m your man. Where I’m sleeping in your bed, not one night, but every night. Where you don’t give up any control, where you tell me exactly what you want, where you want it and how many times.”
It took Evie a few seconds to absorb it, and then she backed up a step, hitting the wall. “Oh.”
Liam closed the gap between them, pressing his thighs hard against hers, but being as careful as always around her belly. “So. That was my honesty. Now let’s deal with yours.”
She closed her eyes. One word, and this could end. All she had to do was tell him no, and he’d back off. She rolled the word over in her head, willing it to spill out of her mouth. It didn’t.
“Truth. You’re not interested in meaningless sex. Lie. You’re not that kind of woman. You absolutely are. You are hot, inside and out. You are made brick by brick of passion and desire, and you long for a safe partner with whom you can share a really—” he slid his hands down her thighs, to where her shorts met soft, warm skin, and curved his hands around to cup her legs just beneath her bottom “—hard—” with a jerk, he lifted her up and ground his erection into her core “—fuck.”
An unholy noise, halfway between a moan and a sob, ripped forth from her chest. “Oh, Liam,” she whispered, her body in a desperate race against her mind.
He buried his face in her neck. “I want all of you, Evie. Your passion. Your faith that I’ll always be there for you. Your softness and your fire.”
“What if I’m never able to trust you with my heart?” She wrapped her arms around his head, running her hands through his short hair, breathing in the scent of his unmistakably expensive shampoo. Traced her fingers along the fine cotton of his tailored shirt. Pressed a hand to one side of his face, then eased her feet to the ground and reached up with the other hand, holding his gaze. “We come from two impossibly different worlds. What if I never believe that this could be all that you want?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He looked down at her, desire still rolling off of him.
“I know I’m being awful to you. I do. I’m sorry.” Her voice petered into a pathetic whisper.
He groaned and dropped his head gently onto hers for a minute. “You’re not. It’s okay.”
“You’re not the only one who’s frustrated right now, I promise.”
“I get that, sweetheart.” He dipped his head lower still and brushed his mouth against her ear. “I can smell how frustrated you are.”
She gasped and jerked backward, thumping into the wall, but that just gave his mouth a bit of room to play against her jaw. He kissed her slowly and with deliberate intent, raining a slowing patter of affection across her face, finishing at her lips.
“Lest you get all weird about that, I promise, it’s a good thing.”
“God, Liam, what are you doing?” She gripped his head in her hands and mock shook it from side to side.
“I’m trying to show
you what you mean to me. What you are to me.” He exhaled heavily. “My life was nothing before you, Evie Calhoun.”
“It was something. That’s what’s holding me back. You seem too good to be true, maybe because you don’t share anything. Good or bad, I want to know about it.”
“My old life…it was empty steps in a sad direction.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she whispered, pulling his face back to her neck. She stroked her fingers through his hair, the spiky ends of the short crop at the base of his skull teasing her nerve endings.
“I don’t want you to know. I don’t want any part of that world bothering you.”
“God, you make it sound like you were in the mob.” She froze. “You weren’t, were you?”
He laughed without humour. “God, that would be easy. I told you once, I’m an open book. But it’s not a story I like.”
“You’re running away.”
“No, I’m running toward you, Evie. From the very first taste, I’ve wanted more of you. I came here because of you.”
“Tell me what you’ve given up.”
“Nothing.”
“A career.”
“I’m building a new one here, with my bare hands.” He pulled away, replacing the physical presence of his body with a fierce gaze.
She licked her lips, ignoring the flare of heat in response, and steeled herself to continue. “Events with red carpets.”
“Never my scene.” He laced his fingers into hers and tugged, stepping backwards into the living room.
“Google says otherwise.”
He laughed. “Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
“Pictures, Liam!”
“Fine.” He pulled her onto the couch, settling her between his legs. She resisted for a second, but his chest was warm and inviting, and he was opening up. Sort of. “You want more?”
She nodded.
He took a deep breath, and told her about the unexpected dinner guests and awkward introductions at parties. From the moment he started working, his mother had wanted him married to someone she approved of. Someone just like herself. Liam couldn’t imagine a more awful future, a life built around china patterns and political fundraisers. Enter Annabeth, and her unexpectedly honest appraisal of the matchmaking.
“My mother introduced us at a meet and greet with the local member of parliament, and the first moment we were alone, she leaned over and whispered, ‘Do you think your mother has any idea that I’m a giant lesbian?’” He chuckled at the memory.
“What?” Evie pressed herself upright, needing to see his face. “Seriously? That beautiful woman in the pictures?”
“Beautiful women are allowed to love women. In fact, I think it should be encouraged.” He winked, and she groaned.
“I didn’t mean that! Of course she can love whomever she wants. But you really weren’t a couple? You look so…intimate.”
“Evie.” His voice was stern, but his eyes were warm. “Sunshine, this is intimate. You and me, right here. That was just play acting. I was probably quoting The Simpsons in her ear.”
“So you were her cover, and she was yours?”
“Nothing that formal, but yes. I let my mother think we were dating. Annabeth was dating a woman who couldn’t come out…I don’t know the details. I wasn’t lying when I said we weren’t close. It turned out that her cousin and I went to school together, and our parents know each other, but other than those few times I accompanied her to events, we never spent any time together.”
“Okay, so I was wrong about the red carpet.” She took a deep breath. “Your Wikipedia page says that you walked away from a trust fund.”
He didn’t move a muscle, just looked at her for a few long moments. She thought it was possible that her heart might just pound its way out of her chest.
“Don’t believe everything I read?”
“No.” He slowly sounded it out, dragging out the oh. “That part is sort of true. I have a Wikipedia page?”
“Don’t you ever Google yourself? It’s all Carrie’s fault, she started it.” Evie knew she was beet red and stammering.
“No, I don’t.”
“But you have all the gadgets and what not!”
“And I’m not a megalomaniac! I barely visit Facebook. I use the internet for trading stocks and playing Settlers of Catan, not preening over myself like a peacock on steroids.”
She couldn’t help herself from laughing at the subtle admission of geekiness in the middle of his self-righteous response. “Seriously, Settlers?”
“Seriously. Evie, what else does my Wiki page say?”
“That you attended Upper Canada College, then the University of Toronto, and Rotman School of Business. You chose not to participate in the family business, and rumour has it, you recently walked away from a trust fund that was tied to a condition of employment.”
“All true.”
“You quit your job to come to Wardham.”
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“You came here because of me.”
“Finally, you believe me.”
“You quit your job for a second date.”
“And a third and fourth.” He kissed the top of her head. “I also quit my job because I didn’t like it. I had other options and I exercised them.”
“Liam…” She twisted around on the couch, perching on her hands and knees over his body. She glared at him. “Just how much money did you give up for me?”
“That’s a terribly personal question, don’t you—”
“Argh! Liam!” She glared at him and he laughed.
“Okay, settle down.” He tried to tug her into a hug, but her belly got in the way. “Woman, turn around again, please.” He manhandled her back into his preferred position, where he could hold her with one arm and touch the baby with the other. “I don’t know exactly how much money. A lot. But I don’t need it, and I don’t want it. It comes with strings a mile long.”
“You have a Wikipedia page.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “That’s just so far out of my realm of comprehension.”
“It’s probably just a stub.”
“I don’t have a stub, Liam! No one in Wardham has a stub.”
He snorted. “I’m pretty sure Evan has a full page, and you had no problem falling in love with him.”
Evan wasn’t rich when they dated, but that wasn’t the point. “I didn’t love him, not like…”
He waited for her to finish the sentence, but when she didn’t, he pressed on. “So that’s a requirement of love, that your man be a nobody?”
“No.” She pressed her hand to his chest. He needed to slow down, so she could think. “Stop pushing me.”
“But you loved Dale.” The humour had disappeared from his voice, and there was a hard edge she didn’t like.
With some effort, she pushed herself up and stood. “Stop it.”
“We can talk about me, but not you?” He stood too, and crossed his arms.
“What? No, of course we can talk about me. That’s what started this whole conversation, wasn’t it?” She shook her head. “I married Dale, yes, and I divorced him, too. But he’s the father of my—”
“So am I, Evie!” Liam’s raised voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She stared at him. “And I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t pause my life in Toronto, I left it behind. Completely. I don’t live in another world, I share this one with you. So if one of these days you want to admit you love me, that would be grand.”
Of course she loved him. How could he not know that? “Liam—”
But he was too far gone, too worked up to notice she was trying to placate him. Or maybe she wasn’t very good at projecting a calm, rational vibe.
Liam stalked past her to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he paused and shook his head, then looked at her. The hurt on his face cut her to her core. “Evan was a selfish bastard who hung on to you for too long and used you to figure himself out. Dale broke your fait
h in yourself. Sunshine, you’ve got terrible taste in men.”
If this was a fight with Dale, she’d have snapped out a pithy response, something like tell me about it or present company included, but Liam didn’t deserve that. And it wasn’t true. He was mad, but he was still so good it made her heart ache.
So instead, she offered a simple plea. “Please don’t go.”
“I’m not going far, Evie. You let me know when you want me to come back.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It took her two days to call, even though she wanted him to come back that night. First she called her mother, and asked Claire to pick the boys up from school. She didn’t have any evening classes on Monday, because it was usually one of her nights with the boys, so she was home by three in the afternoon. She’d been thinking about it all day. Days, really. And still her hands shook.
When he answered, his voice made her knees wobble. Time to get real. She was loony for him.
“I vaguely remember being a reasonable, rational person.”
He laughed. “Hi, Evie.”
“I’m calling you.”
“I see that.”
“Want to come over?”
“For dinner?”
“Sure. The boys are at my mom’s for the evening.”
He didn’t say anything, just hung up the phone, and seven minutes later, he walked in her front door.
“I’m a pain in the ass,” she said as he stalked towards her.
“Shut up. You’re gorgeous.”
“That’s about to change. The last few months of pregnancy aren’t glamorous, you know. And then there’s the postpartum period…”
“I know, I’ve done the reading.” He pulled her into his arms, and it took all of her effort to not moan.
“It’ll probably be next summer before I’m feeling like myself again. And even then, I’ll still be nursing.”
Liam’s eyes lit up. “So the boobs will stick around for a while?”
“Hey!” She wiggled her arms free and crossed them over her chest, a much more challenging task than it would have been a few months earlier. Truth was, she liked her pregnancy and nursing breasts better, too, but she wasn’t one for surgery, so the regular, little—