Charlotte surprises me by saying, “That sounds like it was meant to be.” Her voice is wistful.
Liam winks at me then sits back in his seat again. “Yeah, it really was. Perfect timing.”
I’ve got a gushy feeling in my stomach that feels like a thousand butterflies are having a dance party. I turn back in my seat, smiling like an idiot, in serious danger of falling for his story myself. He’s good at this, almost like he actually means it all, the touching, the kissing, the part about falling for me. I could really get used to it all. I sigh. Too bad it’s not real, but it’ll be fun while the pretending lasts.
“Sweet.” Charlotte looks over at me with that expression of disbelief or perhaps contemplation on her face. “This is going to make Mom happy, seeing you two together and finally being able to introduce Liam to the family.”
I know what that means. For the moment, I’m fitting the image that my mom has created for our perfect family because Liam has passed some kind of test. Charlotte approves.
The resort is in Lenox, and it takes us about two hours to get there. During that time, we’ve had to make three pit stops so that Charlotte can pee. She’s been guzzling water like a fiend the whole trip. It’s a little concerning, and I’d be actually worried if she also hadn’t managed to tell us all about her latest lawyer scandal in vague, no-names-mentioned ways, all about Doug’s latest critical surgical cases, and also has managed to drill me on all the ways my job hunt is failing and why.
“She’s really quite brilliant, as I’m sure you know, Liam,” Charlotte says as she turns into the long driveway that will take us to Rolling Hills Golf Resort. “She could write her LSATs without studying.”
I groan. Not this again.
“You should encourage her. I’m sure you want her to enter the professional world, right? Not work at the coffee shop for the rest of her life.” Charlotte is looking at Liam in the rearview. He’s leaning back in his seat, one arm lying casually over the back.
“Maggie works hard, and yes, I’d love for her to settle into a career she loves. Law just doesn’t seem to be where her heart is, though. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlotte?”
“She’d learn to love law. I did,” Charlotte says. “And really, working in a field you love is a fantasy. You have to be practical about life. You’re a broker. You know this. I’m sure you worked really hard to become an expert in your field and maybe didn’t always love what you were doing but grew to love it.”
“Maybe so,” he replies. “I have a knack for making connections. People want something, I know how to get it for them. I kind of fell into the profession because I was good at treasure hunting. And that is probably the most fantastical kind of job there is.”
“Well, Maggie can use her creative talent in law just as well as she can in marketing.” Charlotte huffs, no doubt growing frustrated by Liam’s lack of support.
Me? I’m just sitting here feeling all kinds of warm and fuzzies for this man in the backseat who isn’t backing down from my sister’s shit.
“I just don’t understand why anyone would encourage Maggie to do anything but what makes her happy. I find that it’s often other people’s dissatisfaction with their own lives that causes them to try to impose choices onto others.” He clears his throat. “Maybe you should focus on your own life and leave Maggie’s alone.”
My gasp is drowned out by Charlotte’s. We both whip our heads around to look at Liam. No one has ever spoken to Charlotte that way, at least not in the last decade.
He calmly points toward the road ahead. “Charlotte, there’s a car.”
She spins back around and swerves. “Oh shit.”
I’m still looking at him. Where did this man come from? He knows just what to say and how to say it.
“This weekend is important to Mom. I’m sure you both understand that,” Charlotte says quietly but firmly. “She wants everything to be perfect.”
I turn back in my seat, my mind whirling. There’s a lot riding on this ruse with Liam. I just hope I can actually pull it off.
I feel Liam’s hand slip past the seat to caress my arm again, and suddenly I know, with him, I will. I’ll finally meet the expectations of my mom. I won’t be a disappointment—or, at least, he won’t let me feel like one.
Liam is turning out to be this mysteriously abundant gift that keeps opening with new surprises. I kind of feel like my cheeks are going to hurt from all the smiling I’ll be doing. Not that I need someone to defend me with my family but it’s kind of nice to have someone in my corner finally. Just what I would expect a boyfriend to be like.
We pull into the circular drive that takes us to the doors of the resort where valets are waiting. As I step out of the car, I hear my father’s booming voice.
I turn to see him storming my way, his big arms out looking for a hug. He’s a tall, burly man who’s eaten a few too many pastries over the years. Mom is constantly harassing him over his big gut, trying to force him on diets that never seem to work. He’s like a bear and hugs me accordingly, lifting me from my feet and kissing my neck.
“Your mother told me you brought a man with you,” he grumbles into my ear, too low for anyone else to hear.
I pull away as best I can, still trapped in his arms. “I like him, Dad. A lot. He’s been good to me.”
My dad smiles, flashing me a wicked wink. “Introduce me then.” He sets me down and turns toward Liam.
And then something happens, like a wall of frost falls around us. My dad’s hand seems frozen in the air, not quite extended enough to shake Liam’s hand.
Liam gulps, and I see his Adam’s apple move. Then he closes the gap. “Good to meet you, Mr. Chandler.” He slides his hand into Dad’s.
“It’s Detective Chandler,” my dad growls, his eyes narrowing.
Neither man moves. Their hands are frozen together, eyes locked.
What. The. Heck.
“Whoa, ease up there, Detective,” Charlotte says as she comes around the car and disrupts whatever showdown is happening between Dad and Liam.
Dad snaps out of it and turns to embrace Charlotte. “Where’s that husband of yours? Working on some tiny heart or liver or something?”
Charlotte laughs, and I move over to Liam’s side, sliding my hand into his and squeezing. “I’m sorry. Dad takes the detective stuff pretty seriously on or off duty. I should have told you that with boyfriends, that gets worse, way worse. I’m sure he won’t kill you. He just might growl a lot.”
Liam squeezes my hand back but doesn’t say anything.
“Doug will be up in a few hours,” Charlotte is saying. “For now, though, I’m going to go see if Mom needs any help. Maggie, you coming?”
“Liam, how about you and I go have a coffee in the den?” my dad asks. “Get to know one another.”
I hesitate, not sure I should be leaving Liam alone with my dad after that weird macho shit he just pulled. Liam said he did time. He’d have told me if he knew my father. But still… “I don’t think—”
“No, sweetie, go help your mom. I’ll be fine.” Liam leans in to kiss my cheek, his hand on my waist giving a reassuring squeeze.
I look into his eyes to make sure there’s nothing more there, but he’s smiling and seems unworried.
“Okay, I’ll meet you upstairs in a bit?”
Liam nods. “You got it.”
I go up on tiptoes and kiss Dad, too. “Behave, old man,” I whisper.
He grumbles a yeah, yeah and then motions for Liam to follow him. And I can’t help thinking that I’ve just sent my pretend boyfriend into a hailstorm of epic proportions.
Chapter Six
Liam
I’m following Detective Chandler, watching his broad back, the clench of his fists. His body language is telling me that he’s pissed, not that I blame him. If I were him, I would have hit first asked questions later. But he�
�s not me. Thank fuck.
“Let’s go back here,” he says over his shoulder. “Where it’s quiet.”
Where I can kill you without anyone noticing. I try to laugh it off, but really, this is the man who’s been gunning for my family for years. I know I’m headed into a shitstorm with no umbrella.
He leads me through a restaurant that’s set up for breakfast and full of people to a small sitting room where books line the walls and a wet bar houses a coffee carafe and some scones. There’s also no one in here.
He motions to a seat in the corner. “Coffee?”
“Black.” I settle myself on the arm of the small couch.
He nods. Pours two coffees.
“Scone?”
“What?”
He turns to me with a pair of tongs in his hand, somehow making them look like a weapon just with a flick of the wrist, and motions to the plate of scones. “I asked if you wanted a scone.”
I shake my head. “I’m good.”
There’s a clatter, and the tongs hit the plate. Detective Chandler is gripping the edge of the table like he wants to break it in two. His shoulders are bunched, his back is to me, but I can see he’s ready to blow.
“You’re…good?” he growls. “When Rebecca told me that Maggie was dating a guy named Liam, I thought, what are the odds my daughter is with a guy who shares a name with a known felon I put away?” His voice is gravelly and low. I have to lean forward to hear him clearly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d been released yet, I knew the paperwork was going through, but…” His shoulders bunch more, his knuckles turning white. “I swear to God, Doyle…” He turns slowly, his eyes boring into me like hot pokers from Hell. “If you do anything to hurt Maggie…”
He can’t say it, I realize. He can’t threaten my life without jeopardizing the case he’s building against my family.
I raise my hand. “I’m not going to.”
He blinks, frowns. “You’re not going to what?”
“I’m not going to hurt Maggie, sir. You have my word on that.”
His face is still bunched up like he’s revving on all cylinders. There’s some noise in the next room, a laugh, conversation that’s close to where we are. Detective Chandler adjusts his stance, his expression relaxes, he runs a hand down his torso to smooth out his shirt, then he turns back to the coffees.
“Does she know who you are?”
“No.”
“Keep it that way.” He turns with the coffees and walks close enough to hand one to me.
I take it and nod my thanks. “I told her I did time. It didn’t bother her.”
Detective Chandler takes that in with a slow nod. He settles himself into a winged-back chair, his bulky body looking only slightly comfortable there.
“How serious is this”—he waves his hand up and down—“thing between you two?”
“She’s a special girl,” I say. I’m not going to outright lie to him, but I’m not going to blow it for Maggie, either.
“How long have you been together?”
Maggie wants people to think we’ve been together for a while, and I’m assuming that includes her dad. I keep it vague. “A few months.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “And you’ve been out for how long exactly?”
Shit. “Four months.”
He eyes me, drinks his coffee. “Convenient.”
Yeah, I’d be suspicious, too. The felon he put away starts dating his daughter right after he gets out? I should’ve lied—well, more than I already am—but something tells me Detective Chandler would’ve seen right through it. Hell, he’s probably already seen through the whole ruse.
I force myself to look relaxed, taking a few sips from my own cup. The silence hangs. Cops, they do this thing where they let the quiet work it’s magic. Making a suspect squirm until they try to fill the silence with talk…then it’s like a dam bursts and they talk too much.
I’m not that kind of guy. I’m comfortable with silence. I like it. It’s how I learn things about people.
Detective Chandler seems to remember this about me. He leans forward, stabs me with one of his looks. “I know you took the fall for Shawn.”
This catches me off guard. I try to suppress my reaction.
“I know you’re that kind of guy. Loyal. Doing time for a low life like your brother just to spare Ronan and Cormac. I know.” He taps his head. “I’ve got you figured out, Liam.” He clears his throat, leans back in his chair. “That’s why I’m going to let this continue between you and Maggie.”
I cock an eyebrow. We both know that Maggie is independent enough to make decisions for herself.
The silence hangs. I drink my coffee. He eats his scone.
Just when I sense he’s ready to start up again, I set my cup on the table beside me. It clicks loud enough to stop his next words.
“I’d better get back to Maggie. She’ll be waiting for me.” I stand, offer my hand. “Thanks for the coffee, Detective Chandler.”
He looks at me dead in the eye, and I see something shift there. It makes me nervous but also curious.
He rises, takes my hand. His grip is firm. “Call me Fred.” He leans closer. “You should know, Liam, that I can help you. I can make sure you never go back to prison for your brother again. You’d just have to trust me.”
I nod, pull my hand away. “I’ll keep that in mind, Detective.”
In other words, Not on your life, bud.
…
Our room won’t be ready for another hour, and the official kick off for the reunion isn’t until lunch, which is in about a half hour, so Maggie takes me into the woods for a little hiking. That’s right, I said hiking…in the woods. For a city boy, who walks by the occasional tree here and there, hiking doesn’t sound even remotely enticing.
We’re following a trail, but there’s no one around. The birds are chirping happily, and there’s a breeze moving the branches and the leaves. It’s peaceful here, I admit to myself. I don’t hate it.
“I’m happy you escaped Dad unscathed.” She looks over at me, her expression serious. “Was he awful to you? Are you okay?”
I pull myself from my thoughts and glance at Maggie. “Nah, he’s okay. He’s just making sure I know you’re special to him.”
“I’m sorry, I should have told you my dad is a detective after everything you’ve been through.” Her frown deepens. “We could call the whole thing off if you’re too uncomfortable.”
“Nothing to worry about. The past is in the past. Your dad and I are cool. He seems like a reasonable man.”
She smiles wistfully. “Dad is the only one who lets me be.”
She slips her hand into mine and smiles up at me. I’m not a hand holder really. The girls I’ve been with…well, there’s nothing to hold on to there. No lingering, no quiet time together. Wham, bam…you get the point. Holding hands with Maggie…it feels right. Which is dangerous territory for me because we’re only pretending to be together.
We walk farther down the path, and she points out a few plants, telling me a bit about the trees: white oak, cedar, hemlock. The American Elm is the state tree of Massachusetts, chosen to commemorate General George Washington taking command of the Continental Army in 1775. Things I never knew. Hemlock, too, Maggie informs me, is an interesting tree. Its bark can be used for treating bleeding wounds or brewed in tea for colds. She can name them on sight, pointing here and there, telling me about their properties. I can tell she finds this stuff fascinating, which actually makes her educational tidbits more interesting. Her eyes light up when she’s talking, and she’s smiling so much that her cheeks have got to hurt. I like it; it’s so different from my day-to-day life. Like I’ve stepped into some crazy world of normal things. I can tell she’s nervous, though, filling the silence with chatter.
“See that bush there?” She’s pointing to a prickly looking
tangle. “It grows these beautiful red berries that look a lot like raspberries, but if you eat them, you’ll crap your guts out.”
I bark a laugh. Not what I was expecting. “Good to know.”
“And that right there?” She points toward the ground. “That’s poison oak. You get that on your skin and you’ll be very sorry.”
“Noted.” I squeeze her hand lightly. “I thought you were all into marketing, so what’s with the nature loving?”
“Remember how I said that I used to idolize my sisters?” She smiles wistfully. “Well, Charlotte went through a phase where she thought of herself as a naturopath.”
I can’t help my eyes from going wide. “Like herbal remedies and all that?”
“Exactly. She fancied herself a healer of sorts and spent a lot of time learning about plants and trees and how they can be used for healing and health. For a while, we all thought she’d go to school for Botany or maybe even medicine.” I’d followed her around like a pet, soaking in everything she’d tell me about the plants and flowers around our house and in the nearby forest. “She didn’t really want me hanging around. I totally ruined her concentration, especially since I was prone to picking things up and putting them in my mouth, but my mom always forced her to include me.”
“My mom used to force my older brother to deal with Cormac, Ro, and me, too. I think it’s part of the unwritten sibling contract.”
Maggie laughs. “She hated it, but I loved it. Getting to spend time with her was the best thing ever, and I even tried some of her concoctions.”
“Now that’s trust!”
“I know, right?” She sighs. “A lot of them tasted like shit, but they never did much damage. I never had the heart to tell her about the rash I got once when she gave me this lotion she’d made. Anyway, I didn’t ever really stop reading and learning after she gave it up, either. So now my head is full of useless facts, and I get to share it with you.” She smiles. “Makes me a little less special right? Going all nature girl on you.”
I move closer to her. “I love that you surprise me all the time, Maggie. You’re a refreshing person to be around.” I put my hands on her hips. I want to kiss her again. I want to make her understand how special she is. It’s an urge that just seems impossible to ignore.
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