Chapter Thirty
Kat’s To-Do List
Everly Heath Pros & Cons
Pros
Liam
Brian, Sandra, Lydia – Family
Pat’s brownies – they are fucking insane
The house is paid off, so maybe I could take an interior design course?
Liam (again)
Cons
Willa (I’m pretty sure she’s hiding how bad work is)
I’ll miss London, probably???
CALL MUM, DON’T BE A WIMP
Liam and I stood on Sandra and Brian’s porch, holding foil-covered plates and a bottle of white wine, but neither of us had knocked on the door yet.
Neither of us had moved our hands towards the large gold knocker on the door.
Liam shifted on his feet, and I glanced at him.
I wished I could have climbed into his head and read his mind.
I had a feeling I would discover he was feeling the same as me – protective of the little bubble we’d had this morning.
We lazed around in bed, sipping coffee – black for him, a latte for me.
We chatted about inane things, the kind of questions you ask when everything is fresh and new.
I asked Liam about what he was like at school.
Predictably, he’d been the sporty type on all the school teams – football, rugby, and even cricket in the summers.
I asked how he felt about becoming a dad so young, and he asked me about London – all my favourite places to visit and where I would take him if he ever visited.
I saw his face tense for a second when I suggested he visit and swiftly moved on to talk about the restaurants in London – something I knew would distract him.
When we finally got out of bed, I tried not to go bright red when Willa gave me a smug look as I traipsed around Liam’s kitchen barefoot and in my short pyjamas. It felt weird having someone else witness our mornings.
Apart from Abigail, they had been ours.
Liam didn’t seem bothered at all. He still kissed the top of my head as he went around the kitchen preparing breakfast for Willa and me.
Sweet potato hash with smoked salmon and poached eggs.
Blueberry pancakes with hand-whipped cream and a strawberry compote.
He poured us mimosas and handed Willa her black coffee.
Willa’s eyes went wide as Liam plated up. She mouthed, He cooks too.
When we dropped Willa back at the station, I tried not to get too tearful as she hugged me tight and whispered, ‘Be brave, Kat. He seems like a good guy.’ Her eyes flickered to Liam, standing by his van waiting for me. ‘And if he hurts you, I’m chopping his balls off.’
I laughed and hugged her tighter, and then she was gone.
In the van, I sniffed. Liam kept glancing over at me.
‘Do you still want to go?’ he asked. ‘I didn’t think you might be upset, we can go home –’
I threaded my hand through Liam’s.
‘I’m okay.’ I smiled. ‘Thank you for getting her up here. It really was the best birthday present.’
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Better than this morning?’
I blushed. ‘Hm. I love Willa, but probably not as much as I love you going down on me.’
Liam punched the air, and I laughed.
*
As we stood in front of my aunt and uncle’s terraced house, I regretted not taking Liam up on his offer.
The house sounded like a home. The TV was blaring in the front room, and music was playing from the kitchen.
I could smell roast chicken and hear my uncle singing to Frank Sinatra in the kitchen.
I felt out of place.
I didn’t know the protocol. My family had never done the big, loud Sunday lunches. Mum had always said it was too much food for the three of us.
I glanced at Liam to find him staring down at me, his gaze skirting down me and lingering on my arse, where my dress was particularly tight.
I smirked, momentarily distracted by Liam’s stormy eyes.
I knew he liked the tight wool dress I’d picked out this morning.
His eyes had widened and trailed over me, up and down, hungrily.
He looked ready to throw me over his shoulder and drag me back upstairs.
I was sure he would have done it if Willa hadn’t been there.
The feeling was mutual when Liam wore a hunter-green soft jumper with tapered dark blue trousers and smart white trainers.
His arse looked just as good, but I had the decency to stare when he wasn’t looking. Right now, Liam clearly didn’t give a flying fuck. His eyes kept trailing over me, heat warming there.
‘My eyes are up here, Hunter.’
Liam made a strangled noise. ‘I don’t think I’m going to be able to get through this meal and hide that I’m clearly obsessed with you.’
I choked. ‘Obsessed with me?’
Liam grabbed the bottle of wine from my hand and placed it on the floor. With our hands free, he pulled me closer and kissed my neck.
Liam hummed. ‘Just let me get it out of my system. I know you don’t want to tell anyone, but sweetheart’ – his words made my heart squeeze – ‘you look ridiculously hot, and I just want to take you home and do terrible, horrible things to you, and everyone is going to see it on my face.’
His voice grew a bit desperate towards the end. Like he was suffering.
I gasped as Liam nipped at my neck, biting harder than he should. ‘Everyone saw us at the market. The cat is out of the bag. We can tell people if you want.’
Liam pulled back, assessing me. ‘Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable –’
‘It’s just family, right?’
Liam nodded. ‘Well –’
He didn’t finish his sentence because the door swung open, and Lydia stood in the doorway, her mouth full of food.
Her eyes widened at the food in Liam’s hands. ‘Is that the chocolate pie?’ she murmured through her mouthful.
‘It’s a torte,’ Liam responded in a deadpan tone.
Lydia rolled her eyes. ‘Wanker.’ She took the plates from him, smelling under the foil. ‘Ah, this smells amazing.’ She turned around to head back down the hallway. ‘Mum! Liam and Kat are here. We can all pretend we didn’t see them feeling each other up on the porch for the last ten minutes.’
‘Lydia!’ Sandra shouted from the front room as my face lit up bright red.
‘I made extra,’ Liam shouted as Lydia disappeared with the plate. ‘It can go in the freezer.’
‘Yes, chef!’ Lydia shouted back, and I snorted.
‘Sandra!’ Uncle Brian shouted. ‘Where did you put the beers?’
‘Are you blind? On the side in the kitchen. In the box,’ Sandra shouted back. I could hear Lydia laughing in the kitchen at her dad’s expense.
My eyes caught on the pictures hanging in the hallway of shoes and coats.
In mismatched frames were photographs of Lydia at school and on holiday and wedding photos of Sandra and Brian from the 1980s, everyone decked out in big, puffy hair and dresses.
I spotted my dad with his ginger mop of curly hair.
I couldn’t stop the morose thought popping into my head.
He’ll never come to my wedding, my brain muttered quietly.
Liam stepped closer, tucking an errant curl behind my ear.
Are you okay? he mouthed.
I nodded, unable to untangle my complicated emotions, even if I wanted to.
He dropped a quick kiss on my cheek. ‘We can leave whenever you want. If it’s too much.’
I wanted to squeeze him. ‘Thank you.’
‘Come on, I’ll get you a drink.’
We walked into the kitchen, and there was a pop of a confetti cannon.
‘Happy birthday!’ my aunt, uncle and cousin shouted, along with another grey-haired man who had to be Liam’s dad. A crooked birthday banner hung above the patio doors to the garden. A huge table with mismatched chairs was set up for dinner.
Sandra hugged me, and then Brian kissed my cheek, sweat forming on his brow. ‘Happy birthday, love.’
Lydia handed me a glass of something fizzy.
Brian dashed back to the oven, staring through the glass as the pale batter puffed up. ‘I gotta keep an eye on these Yorkshires.’
‘He burnt them last time,’ Lydia whispered to me.
‘I heard that!’ Brian shouted from the kitchen.
Across the room, Liam and his dad were engrossed in conversation. Their eyes came to me, and I flushed. But Liam smiled, and Liam’s dad headed for me. My stomach swooped. I’d never met the parents of someone I was… well, whatever we were.
‘Dad. This is Kat. Kat, this is Kevin,’ Liam said, gesturing to me.
Kevin Hunter had grey hair, a strong, square jaw, and twinkling blue eyes.
He was shorter than Liam and had one of those smiles you could feel in the room.
I could understand why so many people asked him for help.
Kevin struck me as the kind of man you wanted when your car broke down or you had IKEA furniture to assemble. He looked strong, sturdy, and capable.
‘Lovely to meet you, Kat. I’ve heard a lot about you.’ Liam’s Dad smiled and went to hug me. Everyone was very… tactile. ‘I’m Kevin,’ he said. ‘I heard you’ve been causing my son grief.’
My eyes widened. ‘Oh.’
Liam rolled his eyes. ‘He’s pulling your leg, Kat. Ignore him.’
Kevin’s eyes twinkled. ‘He probably needs it.’ He looked at his son. ‘Someone to shake things up, huh?’
A silent conversation was shared between them.
‘So, what do you do, Kat?’
‘I’m a graphic designer.’
‘And you live in London?’
‘For now,’ I said, keeping my voice light.
Liam’s eyebrows shot up.
‘How’s it coming along with the house?’ Brian asked while opening the oven and checking the chicken.
Liam glanced at me, an expectant look on his face like he wanted to know, too.
‘Great,’ I said, forcing a smile under the expectation of their gazes on me.
‘Thanks to Liam. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t taken the job.
’ I turned to Kevin. ‘I haven’t had a chance to thank you for letting Liam jump on the project quickly and only charging me for the materials.
You have no idea how grateful I am.’ I glanced at Liam.
‘We got off on the wrong foot, Liam and me. So I imagine he wouldn’t have accepted without someone to coerce him.
’ I smiled and shoved Liam with my shoulder.
Kevin’s heavy brows knitted together. ‘Coerce –’
‘Dad –’
Kevin barked a laugh. ‘I didn’t have to say anything. He jumped at the chance.’ Kevin’s eyes twinkled as he glanced between Liam and me. ‘And now I can see why. I don’t think Liam could resist helping the pretty girl he was holding a flame for.’
‘Dad,’ Liam said, as his cheeks flushed.
Kevin continued. ‘Well, obviously, I’d have always helped you, Kat. But it was our Liam who suggested we absorb the labour costs.’
I turned to Liam, and he was scratching his head, looking anywhere but at me. He couldn’t have known me for more than a week, and he’d missed out on thousands and thousands of pounds to help me out.
Gratitude surged inside my chest, making my eyes burn.
‘Especially strange because he’s always on my back for helping people –’
‘– Bending over backwards to help people,’ Liam inserted.
Lydia leaned on the back of Liam’s shoulders, messing up his hair. ‘Oh, you mean like not charging customers you fancy?’
Liam went a bit red. He was blushing, and all I could do was stare in amazement.
‘Liam –’ I started, unsure what I was even going to say.
Thank you.
Let me pay you back.
Liam looked at me and said, ‘Later.’
‘Brian, do you need a hand plating up?’
‘No, Sandra. I don’t need a hand. Two hours ago, peeling potatoes, however…’ Brian replied, walking over with the huge, puffy Yorkshire puddings.
‘Touchy, touchy,’ Sandra replied in a sing-song voice, making Lydia and Liam chuckle.
Everyone started picking up plates laden with roast potatoes, leeks and roast chicken that Brian had carved.
It was all placed in the centre of the table.
Liam and Lydia went to the cupboards to pick out wine glasses.
Kevin had his hand on the oven door. Uncle Brian whacked him on the back of the head. ‘You’ll let the heat out, you twat.’
Everyone seemed to have their role, and I was standing next to the table, feeling like a lemon.
‘Kat – would you grab the knives and forks?’ Brian asked, and relief flooded me – something to do. Once everyone sat down, people began helping themselves to the food piled in the centre of the table.
‘Potatoes?’ Liam asked, leaning into me. I almost jumped a foot.
‘Oh. Yeah. Thanks.’
Liam spooned one huge potato onto my plate and then another.
‘Two is fine.’
‘Humour me,’ he said, spooning on one more.
‘Such a feeder,’ I muttered under my breath.
‘Don’t diss my love language, Red,’ he said with a smirk.
A love language. Liam managed the table as if he were conducting a symphony.
He topped up Sandra’s wine glass before she realised it was empty and passed his dad extra greens, commenting on his high blood pressure.
He predicted when Lydia would want more potatoes and diligently ladled them onto her plate, making her beam.
Then, he laid his arm across the back of my chair.
I wasn’t sure he was aware that he moved slightly closer each time he moved.
It was all so lovely.
Homely.
My nose stung.
I glanced at Liam, watching the relaxed look on his face. He really was happier sat at a table with his family than he was on a building site. His face was softer. He didn’t have that pinched look between his eyebrows.
‘What you looking at, Red?’
My lips twitched. ‘Just someone who looks entirely satisfied.’
‘Not entirely, Red.’
‘Can you two get a room?’ Lydia made a barfing sound.
‘Lydia,’ Sandra barked, then turned to us, hearts in her eyes. ‘They are so sweet.’
‘So come on then,’ Lydia said. ‘Spill. What’s going on? Are you staying, cuz?’
I was expecting Liam to tense, but he didn’t.
He looked at me expectantly. He was letting me lead the narrative.
Usually, I’d want the whole room to swallow me up, but I didn’t feel the usual sense of impending doom.
Not when Liam had made my birthday perfect and impressed my impossible-to-impress best friend.
Not when his arm was on the back of my hair, his eyes stuck on me when I moved around the room.
Not when I was so fucking happy in a room with him and my loud, gregarious family, not feeling the slightest bit out of place.
My lips twitched. ‘We are –’
The doorbell rang.
Sandra and Brian looked at each other.
‘Were you expecting –’
Brian shrugged. ‘No.’
Sandra padded down the hallway. The door creaked open, and a high-pitched wail of excitement echoed off the walls.
Ren, Liam’s brother, who was supposed to be halfway across the world, strolled into the room, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.