Chapter 16 #2
This left Liam and me alone upstairs, since I’d rather eat sawdust than pretend to be interested in the filing system. I made myself useful, clearing away the last of the glasses and starting in on the dishes, and Liam joined me, drying as I washed.
I wouldn’t deny being this close to him set my heart bumping against my chest. I was a simple woman who hadn’t had a lick of romance in months and months, okay? When I got to wash dishes next to a hot lumberjack, I got excited. So, sue me. It’s not like I’d do anything to blow our cover.
We chatted easily for a few minutes until Liam set his towel down out of the blue. I slowly set down the dish I was washing and turned off the water, caught off guard by his sudden change in mood.
He pinned me with his gaze, stepping a little too close to be casual. “Are you happy, Lex?”
I took a step back, trying to maintain a socially acceptable amount of personal space between us. “What do you mean? Of course I’m happy.”
He took another step toward me, and I took another step back, only to hit the counter. Drat! I was trapped. Sort of. Without breaking any social norms by having a physical altercation with one of our dinner hosts, anyway.
“In your relationship. Are you happy?”
“I—” How did I answer that? It wasn’t a real relationship to begin with, not that he knew that, so how could I be happy? I’d be happy if we succeeded in taking Gauthier down. But that’s not what I needed to say. “Yes, I am.”
“Really?” He tucked a stray curl behind my ear, closing in even more. Rather than turning my blood to fire and sending electricity arcing up my skin, my stomach pitched until dinner threatened to make a reappearance. “Because I would treat you right.”
I didn’t doubt that one bit. But was he coming on to me, a married and obviously pregnant woman for all he knew—while my husband was in the same house?
“I can show you a good time,” he purred, leaning down until his breath tickled my ear. “Something your husband doesn’t seem like the type to know how to do.”
The attraction I’d felt toward him solidified into a brick of dread that plummeted down my throat.
This was painfully, horribly real. My crush was a complete tool who was offering to be my mistress.
Had I not been undercover as Colt’s pregnant wife, I might have taken him up on an offer for a date. But this? No. Freaking. Way.
I put my hand to his chest, stopping him from moving any closer. “Liam, I’m happily married. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone else who can be what you’re looking for.”
“You. What I want is you.” His eyes, which I’d been so enamored with before, now resembled icy lakes more shallow than the man himself. “Can you say the same of Colt?”
“I can say that Colt would never hit on a married woman,” I hissed, “which is apparently more than I can say for you.”
Even when I wasn’t particularly pleased with him, I knew Colt had more integrity in his meticulously shined left shoe than Liam had in his whole body.
I attempted to step to the side, only for Liam to block my escape with an arm leaning against the counter.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want the same thing, Lex.”
I met his eyes, contemplating whether to knee him in the groin or punch him in the solar plexus.
“I don’t.” I looked pointedly at his arm. “Now, I suggest you move, Liam.”
“Or what?”
I narrowed my eyes, the similarities from a few weeks ago playing in my mind.
Standing behind a stubborn man blocking my way, arguing with him to move.
Both men, now and three weeks ago in front of that stupid coffee maker, were devilishly handsome.
Both men towered over me. Both men challenged me.
But the similarities ended there. I’d never felt threatened or unsafe with Colt, not like I currently did with Liam.
Colt blocked my way just to push my buttons.
Liam blocked my way to get what he wanted—even if by force.
Colt would move if I’d made any indication that I was uncomfortable.
Liam pressed his advantage knowing I was.
For all my talk of despising Colt, I never truly hated him. Not like I hated Liam right now, the wolf in sheep’s clothing exposed. And, as my luck would have it, the only man genuinely interested in me in ages. A predator.
I squared my shoulders, letting my crushed heart bleed into anger. “Simple. Move or I’ll move you.”
His eyes flicked down my body, the hungry glint in them making my skin crawl. “I’d like to see you try.”
I shrugged. “Just remember, you asked for it.”
Holding his eyes, I jammed my knee into his groin. The jerk never even saw it coming.
He curled in on himself, almost dropping to the floor. I deftly stepped around him, managing to avoid bumping his head with my belly. Not that he wouldn’t have deserved it, but the further I could get from him, the better.
I didn’t stop to grab my shoes or the empty cupcake platter, and I didn’t spare the few remaining daffodils outside a second glance like I usually did, either.
Instead, I high-tailed it back to our house in my socks and locked the door.
Colt could find me whenever he was done.
I wasn’t going to stick around a moment longer. I couldn’t.
My eyes stung. My hands trembled from the residual adrenaline. The walls closed in around me, tighter and tighter as the hallway seemed to stretch further and further. Just a few more steps, and I’d make it. Why was it still so far?
Finally, I reached the door to the one place I knew could offer any real privacy—Colt’s room—and shut myself inside. I leaned against the wall and sank to the floor. The lid I’d been forcibly keeping on my feelings slipped.
And I let the tears fall.