Chapter 34 #2
“What are we doing here?” I ask Liam, while trying to figure out how to tell him now.
Something I don’t even want to admit to myself. I got the partnership, and gave up a piece of my inheritance. A vital piece. Heritage. My family’s history.
The thought that Grandpa and Mom would be disappointed hurts me physically. But at least I don’t have to face them.
Liam, on the other hand? Fuck.
“We’re waiting for a delivery.” He pulls me to him, kissing my forehead. My body relaxes against him before the guilt claws back.
“Delivery?” I croak.
“I’m adding the Bentley to your collection.” He smiles at me—one of those disarming smiles that makes my legs tremble.
This is getting even worse than I thought.
“You don’t want to sell it?” I ask, as if that mattered.
“I was rebuilding it while you were rebuilding me. I’m keeping it.” He smiles at me.
Yes, this is definitely getting worse. Just tell him, Roxy.
“That’s… I don’t know what to say.”
He’s creating memories here, and I’m going to taint them.
He wraps his arms around me. “You don’t have to say anything. We will keep it here while I’m refurbishing my garage. Then we can move them all there, and you don’t need to rent this place.”
“Is this some kind of ‘what’s yours is mine’ gesture?” I stall. Yes, I fucking stall. How am I going to tell him now?
He doesn’t get a chance to answer, because what looks like a twelve-wheeler maneuvers into the yard. What the hell?
“This looks like you are moving your entire alley here, bricks and all.” I watch the transporter turning slowly to back up toward my garage.
A crew jumps out, and the tailgate is lowered. My heart beats erratically. I don’t understand what’s happening.
This is not just the Bentley. But that still doesn’t change the fact that cars are missing behind the blue doors of my garage.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Liam jiggles the keys in front of me.
“You want me to drive her?” I stare at the keys. Just tell him finally, Roxy.
“You have a license, don’t you?” He pushes the keys into my hand.
“What if I nick her?”
It would be easier to explain a scratch than five missing legends.
“I’ll fix her.” He shrugs, and I chance a glance at him.
He’s standing there, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, channeling his typical controlled confidence that makes me squirm.
No flexing his fingers. He really means it.
“Go,” he urges. “I’m sure these gentlemen have other jobs today.”
I start toward the loading ramp.
“Thunder,” Liam calls.
“Yes?” My heart is pumping in my temples.
“Don’t you want to open these first?” He gestures toward my garage doors.
I can’t. Once I open them, he will know.
Those cars meant so much to me. And he knows that. He understands how priceless they were.
I sold them before Guatemala. Before I said I loved him. Before I learned what it felt like to be caught.
I could have justified my actions before, when I reckoned only with my conscience. But now? What have I done?
“I need to tell you something.” I finally find some spine and look him in the eye.
He gives me that lazy smirk I used to hate. “No, you don’t. Look behind the Bentley.”
Frowning, I climb up the loading ramp and glimpse the familiar chrome. I freeze.
My heart takes a double-beat, and then my feet move forward, my chest hurting and swelling at the same time. They are all here.
Shaking my head, I return to the dock. “How?”
Liam saunters toward me. Damn, the man is impossibly hot. He hands me a folder. “I bought them. In your name.”
The last part is said with such finality, in that CEO voice that makes arguments die on my lips.
I flip through the pages as if I needed confirmation. I don’t. I trust he did that.
My throat closes. Not from gratitude. From the violence of being understood.
“How did you know?”
He smirks. “Small world. All potential buyers for the Bentley were suddenly gushing about a certain Gullwing.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“You did what you had to do.” He shrugs.
“I can’t accept this.” I raise the folder.
“You did what you had to do. I did what I had to do. Bring them home.” He urges me with his head, beckoning to the truck.
A beat. I expect a protest to flood my mind. But only joy warms my heart.
“Help me?” I smile at him.
Just for that spark in his eyes, I’d let him help me again. “Can I drive the Gullwing?”
“Don’t push it,” I quip.
The delivery guy hands me a box with the keys. I fish out the right one and hand Liam the Gullwing keys.
Snatching it, he slaps my ass playfully.
We park all the cars inside, and while Liam chats with the crew, I open the folder.
“Is everything okay?” He kisses my forehead when everyone leaves.
I step back. “No. Are you insane? You paid ten times the price for the Gullwing!”
He shrugs. “Yeah, the asshole didn’t want to sell.”
Jesus. I skim through the paperwork. He really tracked and repurchased all five of my most valuable cars.
“What is this?” I freeze when I see the seller’s name.
He wraps his arms around my waist from behind, looking over my shoulder. “Yeah, that was a surprise. Did you know your father bought this one for us as a wedding present?”
“I didn’t. He must have used an alias. What the hell?”
“Actually, he didn’t know he was buying from you. Nico didn’t know.”
“Nico?”
“Your father tasked him with finding the perfect gift. They bought you your car.”
“And they sold it back to you?” I turn in his arms, meeting his eyes. The eyes that say so much. No wonder he never bothered with words.
“I showed them proof you sold it, and made a point that you wouldn’t want something you let go of.” He kisses me.
“You used their own ignorance against them?” I laugh. “Sneaky… I have to be careful around you.”
“You definitely should,” he says, with a deliciously dark promise in his tone, and I almost whimper.
Rising on my tiptoes, I seize his lips. “Thank you.”
“Let’s go. We have an ultrasound appointment.” He grabs my hand.
“In two days,” I laugh as he drags me out of the yard.
“I moved it to today. I couldn’t wait to hear the heartbeat again.”
This man. How did I ever think I could be without him?
“And you didn’t think about asking me first?” I tease him.
“Are you saying you don’t want to do it today?”
He got me there.
Sometimes, letting someone decide for me is not as lethal as I feared. Maybe control is choosing who gets to hold me when I fall.