Chapter Nine
Evie
I stood in my kitchen and carefully ladled tomato soup into mason jars. The rich, garlicky smell filled the room, and my stomach growled.
But this wasn’t for me. It was for Liam.
I glanced at the box on the counter, waiting for its contents, which would include the soup, a box of saltine crackers, and a few cans of ginger ale.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
I reached for some cookies, placing a few carefully in a small tin. Hayden would have protested giving away his favorite dessert, but I was in the clear since he was at school. I couldn’t very well bring soup without a little something sweet to balance it out.
Then, I added the pièce de résistance—two books I’d grabbed from my shelf. One was titled Love Is Like a Flat Tire: Fix It or Roll With It and The Upside Down Business of Everyone’s Business.
I’d received both from my mom when she felt both areas in my life were lacking. I chuckled to myself as I nestled them into the box. Hopefully, Liam will get a kick out of them.
“These might not cure you,” I muttered, “but at least they’ll make you laugh.”
Satisfied, I sealed the mason jar, tied a bit of twine around the tin of cookies, and tucked everything neatly into the box.
I stood back, surveyed my work, and moved my hands to my hips. At least I didn’t include a love letter. But it felt good to do something for him. After all, he’d gone out of his way for me and Hayden. The least I could do was return the favor.
Grabbing my keys and coat, I carried the box out to my truck. The air was crisp as tiny snowflakes danced around as I loaded the package into the passenger seat.
I climbed in, started the engine, and cranked the heat.
The drive to his place wasn’t long, but it took me farther from town than expected. The road wound through a dense patch of woods, the trees bare and skeletal against the white winter sky.
The isolation was beautiful in a quiet, understated way, but it wasn’t what I had imagined when I thought of Liam. For some reason, I imagined him to be close to town so he could hang out at a bar or something, living the single-guy life.
Then, I saw it.
Liam’s house was tucked back from the road. Towering evergreens lined the drive to a grand and modern cabin. Sleek lines and enormous windows reflected the surrounding woods like a mirror. The cedar siding and dark trim blended perfectly into the landscape, giving it a polished yet rustic charm.
“Wow,” I whispered, pulling into the gravel driveway. “This is… not what I expected.”
Apparently, owning the Honey Leaf Lodge with his family had done good things for him.
I parked, climbed out of my truck, and sighed nervously.
A part of me wondered if I should’ve called first, but then I remembered his text about being flat on his back. I grabbed the box and balanced it in my arms as I approached the front door.
The porch was wide and inviting. Two Adirondack chairs and a stack of firewood were neatly piled against the wall.
I knocked gently and waited.
After a few moments, I heard slow, shuffling footsteps, and then the door opened to the hottest, sickest guy I’d ever seen.
Wait.
Wrong.
I should not be worried about how incredible he looks when he’s sicker than a dog.
But he really did look amazing.
Liam stood there, his hair sticking up in every direction, a blue plaid blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a superhero cape. His eyes were bleary, but his expression was between surprise and amusement.
“Evie?” His voice was rough, but there was a spark of life in it.
I held up the box with a grin. “Delivery for the king of Germlandia.”
He blinked, then chuckled weakly. “You brought reinforcements?”
“I come bearing soup, cookies, and bad literature,” I said, stepping past him into the warmth of the house.
Liam closed the door behind me, shaking his head.
“You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I know,” I said, smiling. “But I wanted to. Plus, you were basically begging for help in your text. ‘Climbing Mount Everest’? Really?”
I glanced around his home and was taken aback. It made my little home feel very…little.
A large skylight above us in the foyer sprinkled lights across the room where a modern wood rocking chair had been placed by a table.
“Beautiful home.”
“It’s been a labor of love.” He grinned and glanced around. “It was basically a teardown when I bought it. Less than five hundred square feet.”
My eyes widened. “No way.”
“Yup.”
“How long has it taken?” I asked, glancing at the family photos he had mounted on the wall. I recognized Violet, Beck, Fifi, and his parents standing in front of their lodge.
“About ten years.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m a one-man show. I’ve built one room at a time.”
“I’m impressed.”
He laughed. “Finally.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “What do you mean finally ?”
“It’s hard to tell with you.” He winked at me, and my heart fluttered.
“Sorry about that.”
His eyes locked on mine, and he took the box from me. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I’m just learning the ropes right now.”
I chuckled and followed him down an open hallway to a great room and kitchen.
“Ropes?”
Liam slid the box on the counter. “Yeah. We’re both learning about each other right now.” He glanced around his home. “And by the sounds of it, manual labor impresses you.”
I nodded, feeling my cheeks warm. “Very much so.”
And he was right. It wasn’t the house that impressed me. It was that Liam built it room by room.
I pulled out the soup and crackers, arranged them on the counter, and held up one of the books to distract myself.
“You’re such a lifesaver,” he murmured, coming closer as he glanced at the soup.
“This, however, might be the real lifesaver.” I held up one of the books.
Liam squinted at the cover, then laughed. “Is this like a step-by-step guide or something on business?”
“Oh, it gets better,” I said, handing him the second book.
He took it, his grin widening as he read the title. “ Love Is Like a Flat Tire: Fix It or Roll With It . Who writes these things?”
“People who want to make us laugh, apparently,” I said, my smile softening. “Figured you could use some entertainment while you’re stuck here with my son’s bug.”
Liam set the books down, his expression turning thoughtful. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“It’s just soup and cookies. Don’t get too impressed.”
“It’s not just that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You didn’t have to do any of this, but you did. And it means a lot.”
I glanced away, suddenly self-conscious. “Well, you’re the one who started it. Showing up at my house with soup and snacks for Hayden? This is just me returning the favor.”
A low, gravelly chuckle filled the room. “You’re a tough one, Evie Grayson.”
I arched a brow. “And don’t you forget it.”
Liam’s broad shoulders relaxed as he leaned back against the counter and shook his head.
The room felt still for a moment, the only sound from the hum of the fireplace fan kicking on.
I looked around, absorbing the details of his home—the open layout, the rustic touches that balanced the sleek design, and the many family photos displayed on the walls and tables.
“Want some soup?” I asked finally, breaking the silence. “It’s still warm from my kitchen.”
“Is that a serious question?” he said, pushing off the counter with a grin.
I shook my head, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.
As I ladled the warm tomato soup into it, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of contentment.
For someone who claimed to prefer solitude, Liam Harper sure made me feel right at home in his presence.
And as I handed him the bowl and watched his face light up, I knew I’d made the right choice coming here.
But I still had one more surprise up my sleeve—and I couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
Liam sat on a stool along the counter, his bowl of soup cradled in his hands. He looked every bit like a man trying to act casual while secretly reveling in the attention.
The blanket draped over his shoulders didn’t exactly scream “suave,” but somehow, it worked on him.
“Incredible soup,” he said, taking another careful sip. “Almost as good as canned.”
I shot him a look, my lips twitching into a smile.
“Careful, Harper. Insults like that might get you banned from my cooking.”
He chuckled. “In all seriousness, this soup is incredible.”
“Thanks.” I smiled and took a seat next to him.
Liam tugged on his blanket.
I eyed him. “You look like a sexy burrito.”
“A sexy burrito?” He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Is that a good thing?”
“Very.”
Liam’s laughter filled the space, and he shook his head. “It’s a look. You can’t deny it.”
“Sure, if you’re going for ‘world’s most stylish invalid,’” I teased, leaning back against the opposite counter.
“Hey, I’m sick,” he said, feigning offense. “You’re supposed to be sympathetic.”
“I brought soup. That’s about all I got,” I teased.
“I’ve gotta say, you’re surprisingly good at this whole nurse thing.”
“Nurse thing?” I asked, laughing. “It’s soup and cookies, Liam. Not stitches.”
“Still,” he said, his tone lighter now, “it’s nice. Having you here, I mean.”
The words were simple, but the way he said them sent a warm flutter through my chest.
“Don’t get used to it. You’re only getting the VIP treatment because you helped with Hayden.”
“Right,” he said, setting his bowl down with a soft clink. “So, if I hadn’t brought over soup and snacks, I’d just be suffering alone?”
“Exactly,” I said, smirking at him. “You’d be alone with your canned soup and sad blanket.”
He laughed and took a bite of cracker. “I better keep at it.
“You’re lucky you earned enough points to cash in on this.” I shimmied my hands through the air, and he smiled.
“Points, huh?” He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully. “And how do I earn more of these points? And what exactly am I cashing in for? What’s the grand prize?”
“By behaving,” I replied, trying to keep a straight face. “And time will tell what the grand prize is. You have to work up to it.”
“What about compliments? Do those earn points?”
“Depends on the compliment,” I said, feeling the tension between us shift, becoming hotter.
“Well, in that case…” He paused, tilting his head like he was deep in thought. “You have a way of even making tomato soup that tastes fancy. I’m impressed.”
“Not quite the compliment I was thinking of, but...”
He chuckled and leaned back as he finished the last bit of soup. I stood and put the other jar in the fridge.
Liam flashed me a lopsided grin that made my stomach flip.
This was exactly what I loved about Liam. He was so genuine and funny and…
Everything I didn’t know I needed.
We stood there for a moment, and I felt the energy crackling between us.
His eyes stayed on me, and the intensity of his gaze made it hard even to think straight.
Liam didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The look on his face said it all.
“Alright,” I said finally, breaking the tension as I reached for the box. “I think it’s time for your surprise.”
“Surprise?” His eyebrows shot up. “What surprise? I thought this was the surprise.”
“You didn’t think I was going to stop at soup and books, did you?” I asked, giving him a pointed look.
“Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. I’m contagious.”
I chuckled. “Well, don’t go getting any ideas…”
“Never in a million years,” he teased.
I pulled a smaller package from the box and handed it to him. It was wrapped in plain brown paper with a simple white bow. It was a little something I’d whipped up last night when Hayden fell asleep. I loved crafting but rarely had the opportunity or time to do it.
“This is for you.”
He took the package from me, and when his fingers touched mine, I felt the familiar charge of electricity that made my mind think of crazy things.
“Should I be nervous?” he teased.
“Maybe a little,” I said, my grin widening. “But I think you’ll like it.”
He unwrapped the package slowly, and when the paper fell away, he stared at the contents for a moment, his expression unreadable.
And then, finally, the kitchen filled with laughter as he read the words on a mug I’d made for him.
His grin only widened as he read it aloud. “I almost lost a hand, and all I got was this lousy mug.”
Liam’s gaze caught mine, and he shook his head. “This is amazing. Did you have this made?”
“I made it,” I said, trying to hide my smile. “Consider it a token of appreciation. And a reminder to stay hydrated and away from sharp objects.”
He shook his head, grinning as he turned the mug over. “You’re something else, Evie.”
“Is that a good thing?” I asked, feeling a flutter of nerves.
“It’s a very good thing. But now I have to figure out how to top this.” He scratched his chin and chuckled. “You’re good at keeping me on my toes.”
“The old element-of-surprise trick,” I joked. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
“I can’t wait to see.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
The silence stretched out between us in a way that felt comfortable and full of possibility, but I refused to let myself think like that. It was too soon.
But as I watched him laugh again as his fingers traced the words on the mug, I couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—letting him in wasn’t such a bad idea after all.