by Cranford, B.
“I can’t. It’s mean.”
That, that right there was what made her even more beautiful. He had been able to tell from the start that she was a good person—just her presence at the march had done that—but when it was added to the way she avoided talking about something most people would find funny, it just made it more obvious.
He was turning into a smitten fool, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“Come on. One story, please?” He pressed his hands together, linking his fingers. “Please?” he repeated when she looked like she was wavering.
“One story?”
“One.”
“Okay, but let the record show, I’m not telling this to mock people. Just to, like, illustrate the fact that maybe American education on places that aren’t America could be improved upon.”
“Noted.”
“Okay, so, I went to a car hire, rental, whatever, place when I was down south doing some sightseeing, right? And I filled out the paperwork and provided them with my license from home and was asked”—she paused, and Liam found himself leaning in to hear what she was going to say next—“if there were thirteen months of the year in Australia. Which completely tripped me up for a sec.”
“Thirteen months of the year?” he asked, trying to figure that one out. Thankfully, she put him out of his misery fairly quickly.
“My birthday is the thirteenth of the month, and ah, we write out our dates differently. Day, month, year, not—”
“Month, day, year,” he finished, starting to laugh before he’d even choked out “year.”
“Yeah, but to be fair, the kid was new to the job. And I think he was just . . . unsure?” She looked sheepish, though a smile was hinted at by the way her lips curved at the corners. “I mean, if you didn’t know that the dates were different, wouldn’t you wonder?”
“I might wonder, but I think I’d be smart enough not to ask?” Actually, now he was thinking about it, he wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe he would have asked the same.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Rose said, echoing his thoughts. “In any case, I explained and he looked embarrassed, so although I thought it was maybe a little dumb, I didn’t say anything. Besides, he learned something that day, so all is not lost.”
His laughter slowed, then stopped, as he looked over at her. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was dressed for work—their date was just a quick lunch snuck in because he’d had a break in his day and he’d wanted to see her. But her eyes, God, her eyes.
They were laughing with him, but in a gentle way, like she knew her anecdote was funny on the surface but that it went deeper than that. She didn’t want to mock the kid. And suddenly neither did he.
He wanted to kiss her.
Like, really kiss her.
Standing slowly, he made his way around to her side of the table they were sitting at and crouched down beside her. She didn’t speak, instead letting those gentle, laughing eyes track his every movement, and then tell him that she was happy he was there.
They sparkled somehow, as he got closer to her, and though he recognized the thought as being a little too poetic, he also couldn’t deny it. Because there was something about the way she looked at him that told him she wanted the kiss he planned to give her.
“Rosie,” he whispered, loving the way her breath quickened at his use of the nickname she’d told him only he used.
“Liam.” She whispered it back, the exchange so simple and so unnecessary, but for the fact that it gave him a moment to just appreciate her. The small freckles that dotted her face and the slight upturn of her nose, which made him want to kiss it, too. Just a playful little press of his lips because it was cute and she was cute and he was becoming someone who thought about those kinds of things.
But only with her.
A wayward strand of hair had fallen from her ponytail and more than once during their date had he seen her push it back behind her ear. Now, he took on the task, raising a hand slowly, almost reverently to brush it along her cheek, catching the hair and hooking it behind her ear before tracing the shell with his finger.
He settled his hand on her neck, and used it to slowly bring her closer and closer until their lips were almost touching and he could feel the warmth of her breath, practically tasting her already. Except he couldn’t taste her yet and he desperately wanted to. So, when she gave him the slightest of nods, the encouragement to give her that kiss he was leading up to, he closed what little distance remained between them.
This.
This right here.
His mind was telling him something, but it didn’t make sense. Not when his lips were pressed against Rose’s. Not when their mouths moved together, savoring and tasting and exploring. Becoming more insistent as she opened for him, he swept his tongue in to tangle with hers, loving the way she moved her hands possessively to his shoulders as he did, as if she wanted to hold him there. Hold him to her.
This, his mind repeated before going blank, all thought lost to the way their lips and tongues caressed one another in a way that felt so very, very right.
It just worked between them. There wasn’t that moment at the start, the one he’d experienced with every other first kiss, where he’d had to find the rhythm that allowed the kiss to continue. Not with Rose. Not with this kiss.
From the moment their lips met until he was finally, finally able to release her, reluctant though it was, it was like they’d kissed before, a hundred times. And maybe that’s what his mind had been trying to tell him.
You can’t plan for a connection like this.
He kept his hand at her neck as she slid her hands up to cup his in return, and eased her forward and down just enough to be able to press his forehead against hers. “Rosie,” he said again, unable to find anything else to say that might tell her how much he’d enjoyed their first kiss.
And how much he hoped that it was just the first of many.
* * *
“You know, I’ve never seen anyone look at jelly so intently before.”
Moving her attention from the extensive grocery store display, Rose turned at the familiar voice, smiling at Liam and stepping closer. Even though they’d just had lunch together the day before, she couldn’t seem to get enough of him. “First, it’s jam not jelly. Jelly—sorry, Jell-O—is wobbly and weird.” She rolled her eyes and grimaced. “I don’t how anyone eats that stuff.”
“Usually with a spoon, I believe. Although, Sash and I used to use straws when we were kids.”
Scrunching her nose at that visual, she continued, “And second, even after all this time, I still sometimes get thrown by the fact that all the brands I’m used to aren’t here.”
Liam moved closer, asking, “What do you mean?”
“Back home, I always knew exactly what I needed, right? I never had to stop to think too much—I’d just grab the jam I always bought and move on. But here . . .” She trailed off, stepping closer again. They were slowly closing the distance between them and that thought made a shot of pleasure, of happiness, rocket through her body.
“You’ve never bought jelly—sorry, jam—here before?” He raised his arms a little with the question, a silent invitation which she accepted when she pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
She looked up at him as his arms did the same. “Hi, by the way.”
“Hi, Babe.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“I know, right?” She thought for a moment about the fact that in all her time in the States, she’d never once seen him anywhere but at the march and then again at his office. Well, except for their planned dates. “I wonder if it’s like when you get a new car and you start seeing the same model everywhere.”
“Are you saying you’d like to take me for a drive?” He laughed, deep and warm. “Actually, I can’t work out if what you just said is a good thing or a bad thing. What if I was here in front of you the whole time and you never noticed
me?”
He looked affronted, comically so, and Rose pinched his back where her arms were still wrapped around him. She arched a brow. “I could say the same, bucko. So, don’t go acting all pissy.”
“I would’ve noticed you,” he said, his arms tightening for a beat before he let her go, turning her back toward the shelves. “So, jam? You’ve never bought it here before,” he asked again.
“Nah, yeah. I have, but they don’t have the one I was buying anymore, so now I need to find a replacement. And”—she shrugged, picking up a jar and handing it to him—“I have to check the ingredients on anything before I buy it for the first time.”
“Jam isn’t vegan?” He looked down at the jar and back at her. “Really?”
She shook her head. “Nope, not always. Not even often, to be honest.” Taking the jar, she quickly read the ingredients and pointed. “Honey is used as a sweetener in this one, so it’s not vegan.”
“Huh, I never thought of that before.”
“Honestly, neither did I before I started to transition from vegetarian to vegan.” She shrugged again. “It’s an adjustment, but once I find one I like, it’s not that big of a deal. It just sucks when they discontinue brands or whatever.” She paused, then added, “But it’s not just being vegan that means I have to stare intently at things.”
“What do you mean?” He took the jar from her and put it back on the shelf. When he turned back, his eyes were alight with interest.
“There are so many brands here. Like, way more than I was used to, and most of them aren’t the same. It’s . . .” She trailed off, feeling helpless to explain how completely and utterly overwhelming it was to be faced with a wall of condiments or body washes or anything really, and not recognize a single one. “You saw me yesterday with the pizza toppings. Imagine that, but with fifty options instead of fifteen.”
“Stressful, huh?”
“You have no idea. I still haven’t found a suitable replacement for my shampoo.”
He shook his head. “Huh, who knew?”
Laughing, Rose pointed to herself. “I knew.”
“Touché.”
“Hey, Liam?” She bit her lip, nervously thinking about her next question and wondering if the answer she was going to get was going to change things between them.
“Yeah?” His reply was almost absent as he picked up a different brand of jam from the shelf and turned it around to inspect the label.
She reached out and plucked it from him, making sure she had his full attention. “Does it bother you?”
He frowned. “Does what bother me?”
“Me being vegan?”
He immediately shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that said he was maybe a little offended by the question. “Why would it?”
“Just, if we go places, then I’m going to have to make sure what I’m eating is right for me.” She made a face. “I know it’s not always fun, because it’s harder to just make spur of the moment plans to go out to eat and . . .” She trailed off, standing up a little straighter. “I’d rather know now if it was going to be an issue, because I’m not about to change if it’s going to bother you and—”
He grabbed her hand, and she abruptly stopped talking when she saw the look on his face. “Babe, it doesn’t bother me. I’d have to be some kind of asshole to say it did. And an idiot to let it stop me from seeing you.” He pulled her into his body, only letting her hand go when he had her close enough to wrap his arms around her again. “What made you ask now?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just being here with you and these seventy-two brands of jam. It made me realize you probably don’t have to do this. Inspect your food.”
“No, but then again, I’m not a vegan or even a vegetarian. Does that bother you?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I mean . . .” She trailed off, laughing when he scowled down at her. “No, of course not. But I have my limits, you know.”
“Such as?”
“If you had a whole pig spit in your backyard. A steak so rare it was basically raw meat slapped on a plate.”
“Yeah, I’m not about to do or have either of those things. And I don’t mind learning about non-vegan jelly, so I think we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”
She smiled at the confidence in his voice, moving up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his jaw. “Okay.”
He turned his head so he could capture her lips with his, giving her a long, sweet kiss in front of the condiments. “Okay,” he agreed, “Let’s find you some jam.”
* * *
Rose: Run into any nice girls at the supermarket today?
Liam: No. And I went back the last couple of days in the hopes of seeing you again.
Rose: Ugh, we’ll have to start comparing shopping schedules then.
Liam: Definitely. How was your day?
Rose: Good. Long.
Rose: You?
Liam: Same. Had to put a cat down today.
Rose: I’m sorry. That has to suck.
Liam: It does. I mean, I know it’s for the best, but I don’t like watching the goodbyes.
Rose: No, I wouldn’t either.
Rose: Want me to tell you a joke to cheer you up?
Liam: I’d rather come over there and see you, but…
Liam: Okay. Since you’re offering.
Rose: Knock knock.
The knocking on his front door came at the same moment as Rose’s text, and he couldn’t help the surge of excitement that jolted through him. It’s her.
He didn’t know how he knew, or why he was so certain, given that she didn’t know his address, and yet . . . he knew.
Liam: Someone’s at the door. Hold on.
Rose: Um, that’s not how the joke goes.
Rose: You’re supposed to say who’s there.
He smiled at her faux-indignation evidenced by the GIF of a woman dramatically slamming her hands on her hips. Though they’d only known each other a short while, he could hear her voice—that accent—in his mind, telling him he was ruining her joke. And moreover, he liked it.
He liked her being the voice in his head.
The knocking at the front door sounded again, a little more impatient, and he wondered if she was rolling her eyes at him. Probably. He’d noticed that she had a tendency to do that.
“Hey,” he greeted her as he opened the door, reaching out to grab her into a hug immediately.
She came willingly, wrapping her arms around him, a smile on her face. Except she didn’t settle into him. No, she pulled back her head and narrowed her pretty eyes at him. “How did you know it was me?”
“Intuition.”
“Seriously?” She looked skeptical, and rightly so.
Except . . . it was true. “I just had a feeling, is all. That and I wanted it to be you.” He shrugged. “Isn’t that the secret? If you want something badly enough, you make it happen?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, it’s my secret, how about that?”
“That’s your secret?”
“Sure, why not?”
“I thought for sure you’d have something darker, way more sinister for a secret.”
“Oh, well, yeah. Obviously I have a dark, terrifying secret, too. But this is my other secret. You know, the one I let you find out early in the relationship, so I can fool you into trusting me.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
“Did it work?”
She smiled up at him, then leaned in for a brief kiss. It was just a press of lips, no longer than a half-second, and yet, Liam felt it with his whole being. “It definitely did.”
He planted another kiss on her, this one slightly longer, before nodding. “Excellent. My plan to corrupt you remains on track.” He let her go—reluctantly—and waved her into his house. “Not that I’m not happy to see you here, but how did you find me?”
“Oh, right. Tracking app on your phone. I snuck it in there while you were
ordering lunch at the pizza place a couple of days ago.”
He looked down at the phone he still held in his hand and back up at her, wondering if she was serious. He’d learned fairly quickly that she wasn’t always—there was something so playful about her, the way she spoke sarcastically and the way she teased and the way she used her face to really play up her jokes. But in this, she looked dead serious.
And he felt not so good about it. “Really?” he asked, looking back at the phone and wondering what exactly was about to happen.
She laughed then, poking him in the shoulder. “No, not really. Jeez Louise, you’re gullible. Kassi dropped me by the clinic but since you weren’t there and Tanzi still was, she ordered me a Lyft. Since she, you know, had your address and I didn’t.”
He nodded slowly, his mind taking a moment to catch up. “Right.”
Rose stepped forward tentatively, her laughter being replaced by a concerned look. Her smattering of freckles stood in sharp relief to her paled cheeks, her whiskey-bright eyes conveying worry. “Should I not have come? I’m sorry. I–it was a joke, but I guess not that funny?”
“No, it’s fine.” He shook his head in the hopes of clearing it. “It’s good, I’m glad you’re here. It just took me a minute to catch up.”
“I can go. Or I can–I don’t know.” She shrugged, and he could see the unease settling over her like a shroud. “Tanzi said she was going to call you and let you know, but I told her I was going to surprise you. I guess I surprised you by being a freaky stalker instead, huh?”
“Don’t go.” He stepped closer, too, until they were close enough for him to wrap his arms around her again. “I was surprised, is all. I’m really happy you’re here. Really fucking happy.”
* * *
Rose followed Liam into his kitchen, making a point of checking out his place as she went. It was open and airy, and had touches that made her wonder who the woman in his life was who’d made it feel so homey.