Chapter 27
the almost
Lorien
The food is delicious and, much to my chagrin, it makes me soft and pliable.
“What did you do today?” I take a bite of the spinach concoction and withhold the happy hum that wants to leave my body. Mostly. A little happiness does escape, and I don’t care one bit.
His eyes zero in on my face. “I went to Ayla’s. You’ll meet her husband Christian sooner or later. We had some business to discuss.”
“What kind of business?”
“There was some… drama a while back with my father. Christian is looking for resolution to that.”
I don’t mean to lean in, but his voice dropped when he started speaking and I was drawn to him. Moth to a flame, of course. “Will he get it?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
He nods once. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“You don’t get along with your dad?” Sadness laces my tone, but I don’t mean for it to. It would break me to lose my dad, to have any kind of drama separate us.
“He’s dead to me.” He stabs a piece of meat and forks it into his mouth.
I can’t help but stare at his beard as it moves and wriggles.
He quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head. “Wifey, you’re staring at my mouth again.”
Mortification blooms hot under my skin and I look down. “I need more”—I wave at the plate and let the rest of my sentence dwindle as I return to the buffet line. I don’t need more anything. I want more, but I’m full as a tick. I have to remember this place because I could easily become a regular.
I circle the buffet pretending to study my choices. All the while my mind twists a plot.
He doesn’t mind me looking at him. He never shuts it down. In fact, he openly stares back. He certainly gives no vibes of wanting less time with me.
Which makes me wonder if he really isn’t interested. Or if he’s just withholding from me.
Last night, he put me in his bed, after all.
He could’ve dropped me at my door and gone home.
Instead, he made sure I ate and showered, and he sat next to me.
So he was “working.” Okay, but he could’ve done that anywhere.
But I didn’t think he’d turn me down. I see the way he looks at me.
I’d swear there was hunger in his eyes from the beginning.
That’s never gone away, even when he said no.
With those ideas twirling in my head, the researcher in me can’t help but want to do a little experiment. The question is if my heart can survive the scheming.
“You fixed my door?”
We pass my garage as we drive down the alley to his place. I always drive the other direction. I haven’t lived here long, but I already have a pattern.
He nods.
I guess that answers that.
“So, what does that mean?”
“It means it’s safe to return to your house.” He puts the car in park and closes the garage door.
I fight everything in me not to deflate. It shouldn’t feel like rejection. It shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t ratchet up my fear. I can’t show that it does. I exhale. “Well, that’s great. I’ll be out of your hair. Please let me know how to pay the bill.”
I twist, reaching for the door handle only to have him grab my wrist closer to him. “Lorien.”
My name is a question and it’s a statement. And I have no reply for either. “Yeah?”
“If you’re scared—”
“I’m not.” I cut him off. “Thanks for today.”
I slide out of his SUV, whacking my purse against the door and hearing glass shatter. This time I can’t fight the slump of my shoulders, but I can avoid Liam Murphy seeing my tears.
Liam
In my wildest dreams, I never thought I’d meet a woman who would out-stubborn me.
Lorien Anderson is independent, self-sufficient, and a liar. She needs people. She just doesn’t want to need people. She’s done it on her own for so long, she doesn’t know how to ask for help. Or even that it’s okay to.
Hello, Pot. Nice to meet you. I’m Kettle.
Heading inside, I reach for my phone.
Me: How did you handle the stubborn phase of your relationship?
Ci: So it’s a relationship now?
Me: No. I just don’t know what to do with her.
Ci: What do you want to do with her?
Eat her pussy. Eat her ass. Eat her pussy again until she’s jello and can barely stand it. Then fuck her. Any way. Every way. Until I am so spent I sleep for three days.
Me: I want to not walk on eggshells.
I don’t do eggshells. I don’t do tiptoeing.
Ci: Then say what you need so there are no eggshells to walk on.
Me: Easy for you to say.
He fell in love with Sariah nearly two decades ago and lost her. When he found her again, there was no way he would accept anything but her at his side. She was it for him. If he had to crawl across glass, he would so they could have their second chance.
Ci: Easy to say. Hard as hell to do. The question is… is she worth it?
Fucker. Why does the man always make everything seem so easy? Do the right thing. Always show up. Sacrifice, love, give. He’s selfless.
That will never be said of me.
Rifling through my guest bathroom drawer, I find an unopened toothbrush in the back and a travel toothpaste that must’ve been freebies from the dentist. Sliding them in my pocket, I grab my laptop and…
Is that all I really need? Maybe. Of course, it’s literally right next door if I need to make my way back.
Using the back door and back gates, I find myself on her steps. I suck in one deep breath and enter the code to let myself in but can’t. She set the top lock.
That makes me happy all the while it annoys the fuck out of me. I want her safe. I do not want to be on the outside trying to get in. I knock.
“Who is it?”
As if. “Seriously?”
“A girl can’t be too careful.” She pulls open the door, and I’m struck dumb.
She stands in my tee from last night—How? Was it in her purse all day?—and nothing else. Or at least nothing I can see. What’s on display are those long creamy legs and bare feet with painted toes.
“I didn’t expect you.”
Placing a hand to her belly, I give her a light push so I can enter. “Why not, Wifey? We live together after all.” My tone is saccharine sweet, if not a little annoyed.
“Because, William,” she starts, sarcastically drawing out my given name.
I so badly want to take that smart mouth. Blood surges to my cock, and I lift my eyes to the ceiling, fighting for control.
“What might you have said to make me think you’d be here?” She lifts the hand from her hip to extend to me as if my presence is the confusion. The problem is it also lifts the tee higher on those thighs, and my eyes drop.
“I said nothing that indicated I wouldn’t be here.” I close the door behind me as I watch her.
She pauses and squints, but her eyes slide aside, as if she’s replaying everything. And she gives up. Just like that. She lifts a shoulder. “Okay then.” She turns on a heel, the tee swirling out where the bottoms of her ass cheeks are hidden and walks back toward her living room.
It’s the ultimate fucking tease.
So close to seeing. So close to having. The almost damn near brings me to my knees.