CHAPTER THIRTY

Liam

 

I felt her eyes on me as I worked, but I was confident enough in my skills that I didn’t let it shake me. I was able to go on autopilot when necessary. And it was necessary. All I wanted to do was drop the knife and take her in my arms. I should’ve taken her dancing again. There was no way I’d get away with a cheesy move like dancing with her in the kitchen.

“Any news on the novel?” I asked.

I’d debated bringing it up, but I hadn’t brought it up last time and I worried if I didn’t ask this time I’d look like I’d forgotten, or worse, didn’t care. I knew it was a risk if the news was bad, but I had a backup plan to cheer her up if required.

“Nothing yet,” she said. “Thanks for asking, though. Sweet of you to remember.”

I was racking up the points tonight.

I got everything together, plated our meals, then followed her out to the dining room, where she’d set a beautiful table. There was a beautiful bouquet of tulips in a vase. Shit. I forgot to bring her flowers.

I put down our plates, then pulled out her chair. Once seated, I pulled out a linen lobster bib I’d brought and tied it on for her. She laughed delightedly.

“You think of everything, don’t you?” she asked.

“Apparently not everything,” I murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I walked around to my seat and sat down, tying on my own bib in the process. She looked at her plate, then up at me in awe.

“I can’t believe you can do this with your hands.”

“Oh, there are a lot of things I can do with my hands.”

It just slipped out, but she blushed and grinned mischievously. It was worth it.

We made casual conversation over dinner. I commented on her new jigsaw puzzle. She filled me in on the various guests staying at the hotel. It was a lot of the same celebrities who had been eating at the restaurant. In such a small town, it was hard to avoid that kind of overlap. I asked about her parents, and Justin, and whether she was writing anything new.

She lit up when she talked about her writing. She had a new novel in the works. The marinating stage, she called it. I listened as she talked about the characters and her idea for the story. She came alive in those moments—there was a fire in her eyes that wasn’t there when she talked about anything else. I kept asking her more and more questions to keep her talking. It was a fucking joy to watch.

She did interrupt from time to time to ask me questions, too. I answered them, but briefly. I didn’t want to be curt, but I also didn’t want to monopolize the conversation. Every one of those damn books had reinforced this point.

We cleaned up together after the meal.

“I can’t believe how amazing that was. Thank you,” she said.

“It was my pleasure, really. I love to cook. Even when I’m off. Job hazard, I guess.”

“Don’t look at it like that,” she said. “You’re lucky to do something you love and get paid for it.”

“True. You’re a hundred percent right.”

We made our way into the living room and she grabbed the remote before taking a seat on the couch. I hesitated only a minute, then sat in the armchair. I just didn’t trust myself.

“What do you want to watch?” she asked.

“Honestly? Can we watch that movie you started the first time I was here? I could never remember the name and we didn’t finish it and I always wondered what happened to the kid—”

She burst out laughing, turned on the TV, and found the movie. I loved that she didn’t tease me about it. I glanced over at her as she was tucking her legs up under her. She caught my eye and grinned. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“Liam,” she said. “Get over here. Come kiss me.”

I flew off the chair and onto the couch in less time than it took her to blink. Taking her face in my hands, I leaned down and lightly brushed her lips with my own. She moaned softly and I did it again, this time using my tongue to gently part her lips. She wrapped her arms around my neck and crawled into my lap. I felt like I was home.

I don’t know how long we sat there, making out. At one point, she pulled away, looked at me with pleading eyes, and said, “More.”

I just shook my head.

“Let’s just take this slow. This is so fucking good, Em.”

It was almost light out by the time I left. My balls were aching and I had no idea how I was going to make it through the day, but fuck, it had been worth it.

 

*

I was out with Adam at a nearby farm, picking up eggs and dairy products. It was a beautiful day and I was in a great mood. Forty-eight hours had passed since my last date with Maggie, and I was still on a high from that make-out session. I must have been humming under my breath.

“Sounds like it’s really going well,” Adam commented, as we loaded crates of eggs into the back of his truck.

“I think it is,” I said. “We had a great time the other night. I think she saw me for the first time.”

Adam nodded.

“I remember what that was like with Tess. Man, it was hard to win her over. Of course, I came with the added baggage of a kid and a broken heart.”

Adam had been widowed some years before, and he and Tess had gotten together last winter, despite her protests that she wasn’t the family sort. I thought about it as we got into the car, how completely that woman’s life must have changed when they hooked up. She was basically my female equivalent in Mountain Valley, except she’d been living there longer.

I saw her often, of course. She was always at the restaurant. She seemed happy. Happier, in fact. I used to bump into her at parties and shit. She was never my type, but we ran in some of the same circles. I thought maybe I should chat with her.

“You got quiet,” Adam remarked.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just wandered for a moment there. How’d you know she was the one?”

He took a minute before answering.

“I don’t know if you ever know. I think it’s about trusting yourself, letting yourself feel.”

“Helpful.”

“Listen, Chef, here’s the thing. You like the girl, see where it goes. It doesn’t have to be forever. You’re dating. You like her. Just take it from there. Don’t overthink this.”

Now that was solid advice.

By the time we got back to town, it was near noon. Toni had taken care of lunch and I was due in the kitchen. Adam and I parted ways at the door and I spent the next several hours head down in the weeds. Friday nights at Cagney’s were off the hook and it was always a rush to work the dinner crowd. I didn’t come up for air until close to eleven, and when I checked my phone, I saw a bunch of missed calls from Maggie.

I walked outside into the parking lot and called her back. She picked up after the second ring.

“Liam?”

“Maggie. What’s up? Something wrong?”

“I got two rejections today.”

She sounded like she’d been crying.

“Oh, shit, Em. I’m sorry. That must sting.”

Sniffles. Yup. She was crying. I had never dealt with a crying woman before, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

“Listen, Maggie, I’m just finishing up my shift. Do you want me to come by?”

“Please. That would be great.”

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and went back into the kitchen to change out of my work clothes.

“Where you going?” Bree asked, poking her head in. “You’re not joining us at the bar for a drink?”

“Not tonight,” I said.

She smiled knowingly and backed out of the kitchen. I grabbed my stuff and left. On the walk over there, I thought about how Maggie had reached out to me in a moment of distress. I felt a vise-like grip on my heart and stopped for a minute to catch my breath. This was what I’d wanted, right? A relationship with this woman. This is what a relationship was. Being there for each other. I swallowed and broke out in a cold sweat. Don’t be ridiculous, man. I shook it off and kept walking.