Bet Me to Stay

by Candace Havens

  “Liam. Yes. Fuck, yes.” She was wild, and he was right there with her.

  When she came, every muscle in her body contracted, and she squeezed his cock so hard he couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot his load into her. She was so fucking hot and his—at least for tonight.

  When they first met, she’d asked him to tutor her, explore everything she wanted to know. He’d fucking loved every minute of it. But what he wasn’t willing to admit to her was she was the one teaching him. Who knew a connection like this made everything so much—more?

  Not for the first time, a panic rolled through him.

  Then she laughed, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  “Like, do you have to leave it in there for a bit?” she asked, and appeared to be genuinely curious.

  “Just enjoying the moment.” He pulled out and took care of the condom. She was still splayed beautifully on the desk. Damn, she was a fine woman. That she’d ever believed differently was impossible.

  After scooping her up, he carried her to the bedroom.

  “Stay,” he said.

  Confusion painted her face. “I need to write.”

  “So do it here. I won’t bug you, but I need you close.”

  Crap. He meant to say “want.”

  But damn if he didn’t need her.

  She leaned back against the pillows and pursed her lips. “Are you going to feed me? I might stay for food.”

  He chuckled. That mind of hers and the way she made him laugh all the time. It was addictive.

  “That can be arranged. Anything special you want?”

  She chewed on her lip, and he sat next to her. “What?”

  “I love everything you make. Everything.”

  Pride and something he couldn’t quite identify bloomed in his chest. “Thank you.” He kissed her. “For that, I’m going to make you something extra special.”

  Going over to his dresser, he pulled out a T-shirt and handed it to her. Then he went to the living room to pick up her laptop bag and brought it to her.

  “You write, and I’ll figure out a snack. I need to keep your energy up. I plan on a lot more fucking tonight.”

  That flash of surprise in her eyes was everything. He didn’t want her to leave; he’d been honest about that. But it was more that he enjoyed her company. Being near her brought him peace.

  Hell. He liked her. A lot.

  “You’re staring,” she said softly.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  “You’ve already fucked me, so you can stop with the compliments.”

  He bent down and kissed her hard. “Not a compliment. Just a fact.”

  Then he went into his kitchen to make her something that would spark that joy in her eyes again.

  Took him a good five minutes to realize he’d been singing the whole time.

  She did that to him.

  Maybe he would sit down and write some songs while she worked. For the first time in years, he was in the mood.

  And the reason why—sat in his bedroom, typing away on her keyboard.

  When he brought the food back in, she had her glasses shoved up onto her nose, and she chewed on her pen.

  But the food caught her attention. “That smells like spaghetti carbonara.”

  He placed the tray in front of her with a plate for her and one for himself. “It is.”

  She frowned. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”

  “You told me the second night we—we were together,” he said. Fucking just didn’t sound right. If he was honest with himself—and he didn’t want to be—it had been more than just fucking since that first night.

  “Oh, that’s sweet.” She dipped her fork in the pasta and creamy sauce. Then moaned as she sucked it into her mouth.

  Damn. He could watch her eat all night. That she loved and appreciated food so much made her even more attractive.

  “I have tomorrow off,” he said. “I thought maybe we could go to the zoo, since it’s supposed to be nice weather.”

  What? Why did he say that?

  Because you want to spend time with her.

  “Oh, that’s a fun idea. I haven’t been to the zoo in so long. I have to write, but I can take a few hours away.”

  “They have some cool animals there. We hosted one of their conservation lectures at the pub last year. They were working on protecting the tigers. Most of the animals they care for have been at other zoos or could no longer sustain themselves in nature. I like that they have more of a mission to help save animals and it isn’t about just showing them off.”

  She pushed her glasses up on top of her head. “You do know a lot about the zoo. Again, you surprise me, Liam.”

  “As a kid, I thought I might work there. I don’t know. It started with an interest in bears and elephants. Then I found music. But I have a soft spot for all creatures.”

  She touched a hand to his jawline. “You’re always surprising me. It’s very sexy.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe you should show me how sexy.”

  Laughing, she kissed his jaw. “Yep, right after I finish my chapter and this plate of food, because no way I’m wasting this.” She stuffed a big forkful of carbonara into her mouth.

  Yes. He could get used to having her around.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cassie lifted her phone so she could capture Liam feeding the giraffe a carrot. The zookeeper in charge of the enclosure had come out to say hello. That she was a leggy blonde who seemed to know Liam a little too well for her taste, well—the pit of her stomach twisted.

  Stop it. You can’t be jealous. She snapped the picture.

  “Do you want to do it?” Liam asked. He was handing her some leafy greens and ignoring the blonde. Man, it would be easy to fall for this guy. Funny, how when she first met him, she thought he was kind of grumpy. He was the absolute sweetest.

  “Give me your phone,” he said.

  She handed it to him and then took the greens from him. The giraffe leaned down, moving its lips, and she was maybe just the tiniest bit scared and excited all at once.

  The animal tugged at the food, and she let go. Then it moved away gracefully. “They’re so much bigger up close.”

  “They are,” he said.

  “This one has a great deal more growing to do, if you can believe that,” the zookeeper said. What was her name? Sandy, Mandy, something… “We found her pretty banged up. Poachers had killed her mother. I’m not always on the trips, but I was on this one. I feel like she’s mine. I love her like she’s my kid or something.”

  Awwww. She shouldn’t hate Sandy Mandy; she was actually a very nice woman. But then she placed a hand on Liam’s shoulder and Cassie wanted to cut her arm off with a machete.

  “You guys have fun. James at the gorilla enclosure is expecting you at two. If you need anything, let me know.”

  Then she left, and Cassie sighed in relief.

  “She’s a good lass,” he said.

  She tried not to bristle at the fact that “lass” was what he called her. “She seems to love the giraffe.”

  “Yes, she and her wife, Margie, both work here at the zoo.”

  “Wife?”

  “Yes, they actually got married at the pub a couple of years ago. Hence the reason we hold the receptions for them now and again. They work to keep costs down so the funds from the events can go to care for the animals.

  “Margie works with the reptiles. I don’t mind lizards, but snakes, I’ve just never been a fan. And Brandy sort of oversees everything as the assistant director. They’re one of the happiest couples.”

  She laughed, relieved. So it hadn’t been subtle flirting.

  And what if it was? She had no rights to Liam. None. They were just two people having fun.

  “She seems nice,” she said, since she wasn’t sure what he’d said. She’d been in her head.

  “How about lunch before we go see the gorillas?”

  “Have you ever known me to turn down food?”<
br />
  He laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I love that you enjoy a good meal. Most women are consumed by not eating carbs and only eat salad.”

  “Hmmm. Salad. I’ve heard that word before. Can’t remember what it means.”

  He bent over he was laughing so hard. “You should put that line in your book—which reminds me. Are you going to let me read it?”

  God. No.

  “Uh, like I said before, I don’t show my stuff to anyone before my agent, and then my editor takes a look. It’s all very much in rough draft form. But you have inspired large chunks of the story.”

  As in, you’re my hero and if you find out, you’re probably going to kill me. She hadn’t even realized she’d been doing it, but some of their dialogue had become a part of the story, too.

  More than once last night, when she figured out what she’d been doing, she’d tried to cut it. But it all worked so well. Maybe when she was done and went back through, she could massage it a bit, so it didn’t feel so true to life.

  But the sex in the book…yep, he was going to recognize that.

  “Is everything all right, lass?”

  He watched her with a curious look on his face.

  She smiled. “Head in the book.” Liar. “Sorry. I’m thinking maybe I need a scene at the zoo where they’re feeding the animals.”

  “Can you tell me what it’s about?”

  Most writers loved talking about what they were working on. She wasn’t one of those people. She shared pages with Tansey because she was her agent, who also gave incredible notes. Tansey had no problem picking guys up in bars, which Cassie had done exactly once, and now she was still with her one-night stand.

  Wait. He asked a question and she was staring off into the bird sanctuary. “It’s about a woman finding herself at a crossroads and discovering she isn’t who she thought—and there’s a fun, sexy romance, probably kind of boring for a guy like you.”

  He leaned against a stone wall leading into the enclosure. “Why is that? You mentioned there was sex. Isn’t that my part in all of this? You’re taking inspiration from our time together?”

  Tell him the truth. At least about the book.

  “Yes. I’ve actually used a lot of our—moments together. Is that okay? Like my character, this has been such a learning experience for me. Everything I’m feeling and—well—right now, a lot of it is in the book. You inspire me every time we’re together, and even sometimes when we aren’t. You’re my muse for all things creative right now. I’ve never had one before, and it’s kind of cool.”

  Well, if that doesn’t scare him off, nothing will.

  “I get it,” he said. Then he reached out a hand and they walked hand in hand.

  “What do you mean you get it?”

  They followed the path that opened to a small café. They ordered some food and sat down at one of the small tables looking out onto gardens.

  “I’m curious what you meant.”

  He ate a fry and then nodded. “When I was writing music, I drew inspiration from everywhere. Pieces of conversations, people I met, and even something I’d hear on the telly. One of my dad’s friends was a sailor and told me about a trip he took in Fiji. That became a song about the beach. It came alive to me when he told me stories. Isn’t it that way for you? Even though it’s fiction, you pull from life, right?”

  “I do. So you’re okay if I’m using you for my male character.”

  “I consider it an honor.”

  She smirked. “You are not like any other guy I know.”

  He clasped her hand tighter in his. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Very.” Her breath caught at the intensity of his eyes. Then he lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them.

  “Stay with me this weekend. Don’t go home. I promise to cook for you, massage your neck whenever you need. I want to wake up next to you. I mean, I’ve got to work tomorrow, but maybe you can hang downstairs with me? Then I promise a night you won’t forget.”

  The sincerity there was nearly her undoing. He genuinely wanted to spend time with her. No one, not even her exes, had even pretended to be this kind and caring. But this was what relationships were supposed to be like.

  Liam had given her a gift, and perhaps a curse. This would end some day, probably soon. Once he found out who her family was, he wouldn’t want to spend the weekend with her ever again. But he’d taught her that she was no longer Roly Poly. She had a lot to offer to the right person—and even more important—she deserved to have a man like him in her life.

  Part of her worried there would never be another man like Liam, but she wouldn’t settle. So if that meant she’d spend the rest of her life alone, she’d soak up as many memories with him as she could. Which meant holding off telling the truth—at least for this weekend. And then she’d rip off that Band-Aid and see what happened.

  The churning in her gut was a sign of just how bad she expected it to be.

  They sat up on the rooftop, watching the stars. Liam held her in his arms, the warmth of the blanket wrapped around them. He’d turned out all the lights, and up this high, most of the lights from the street faded away.

  “I wrote a song about the North Star when I was twelve,” he said.

  She turned her head toward him. “Really? That young? I didn’t figure out I wanted to be a writer until I was in college. Did your parents support your music career?”

  “Not at first. My dad thought it was foolhardy. His word. My mum bought me my first guitar when I was ten and then another one when I was fourteen. She set up lessons with a friend of hers. She’d tell my dad that kids who played music were smarter. I swear it was the only reason I did halfway decent in school. I was afraid they’d take away my guitar. Most kids were worried about losing their gaming system, but for me, it was my first Fender.”

  She loved that he was sharing this with her. What had he been like as a boy? Probably even as a teen, girls went wild for him. That handsome ruggedness was irresistible.

  “Did your dad ever come around?”

  “Aye. About six months before his heart attack, I was an opening act for an arena concert here. People were chanting my name. It was one of the best nights of my life. My song hit top one hundred that week. Mum and Da came to the show that night.”

  He laughed.

  “Wait. What? You had a song in the charts?”

  He nodded. “They came backstage. My dad told me he was proud of me. Pretty sure my mum was giving him hell beforehand. She loved the crowds. She even bought all my merchandising and had me sign it for her friends.”

  She turned in his arm and got on her knees, the blanket still wrapped around them. “So why did they make you take over the bar?”

  He frowned. “They didn’t. I offered. They were ready to sell and move back home. Mum knew Da would be healthier there. He was working too hard here and there was no way he’d ever stop as long as they lived here. It was the right thing to do, to keep this legacy alive. Music careers seldom last long, and this bar has been in my family for almost a hundred years. No way I’d let them sell it.”

  She put her hands on his chest. “But you walked away from what you love most. That’s your art. You were successful. Do you know how hard it is to even get that far?”

  He sighed. “Took me eight years of playing dive bars and getting paid shite before someone at a record company heard me play.” Shifting, he took her hands in his. “The thing is they didn’t want my music. They wanted the image of some Irish guy. The record deal and the concerts, I was doing it to please them. Walking away wasn’t as hard as you might think.”

  She dipped her head, and he lifted her chin. “What?”

  After blowing out a breath, she focused on him. “I’ve heard you sing. It’s beautiful, your voice. And the songs, so full of meaning. My heart ached when you sang that song about the one you left behind. Was that your ex?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. It was about music and leaving it behind. W
hen I took over the bar, I just didn’t have time. And it was easier for me to just let it all go. The dreams—all of it.”

  She took one of her hands from his chest and placed it on her heart. “That hurts me, that something so beautiful—that you just walked away.”

  “It wasn’t the right time. I wanted to do it my way. Makes me sound like a selfish prick and that I wasn’t willing to compromise. I did, especially in those early days. But by the time they’d come to see me at that concert, I was already looking for a way out.”

  “That’s the real reason you didn’t fight,” she said.

  “My family needed me. Da was soul-crushed he had to sell the bar. He’s a tough guy, but this had been his grandmother’s place. He grew up in that kitchen. But Mum gave him an ultimatum, one that’s probably kept him alive to this day.

  “I love this place. I couldn’t say no. Finn was still in college, so I was it. The contract I signed had a loophole for family emergencies, and I took it. Maybe that makes me an arsehole, but I did what was best for our legacy. And this bar is going to be around, I hope, long after I’m gone. It’s probably hard for you to understand.”

  She turned back around and faced the street. “Not really. I understand family legacy more than you might think.”

  “You mentioned before they weren’t supportive. Are they like my dad? They don’t understand what you do?”

  “It’s partly that. They all are in the family business and they just don’t understand why I can’t find the same joy in it they do. They think the writing is a phase. They don’t get it like you do. They don’t even know that I write books. If they knew the kind of book I was writing now, they’d disown me. Hmmmmm. Maybe I should tell them.”

  “They can’t be that bad. You’re pretty amazing.”

  She sighed. “They are kind people. They don’t mean to hurt me. But it’s easier if I just keep them separate from everything else I do. They’re loud and crazy, and they mean well. But it took me a few years of therapy to realize that the meaning well wasn’t really healthy for me. Once I pulled myself away, I sort of—I lost of a lot of weight and started doing what brought me joy. It took a bit for me to make enough money to live apart from them, but it’s the best thing for me.”