Chapter Ten
Morgan
I jolted at the sound of a knock. My heart was racing, and my core clenched with arousal, but I suddenly felt like I had been doused with ice water as Liam stepped away. He rounded his desk to put distance between us as he called out for whoever was interrupting us to enter.
I had no chance to pull myself together before the door opened, and I was sure that I looked rattled by the almost kiss that I so desperately, foolishly wanted. My cheeks felt warm, so I was probably flushed, and my breathing was unsteady.
So, I wasn’t thrilled when it was Parker that walked into the office. It just had to be someone that knew me well enough to notice that I wasn’t my normal calm and composed self.
Thankfully, he didn’t spare me more than a passing glance. His focus went to Liam as he stepped behind one of the chairs in front of the desk, gripping the backrest with tight, white-knuckled fingers.
I knew Parker just as well as he knew me, so it only took one glance at him to know he was having a bad day physically. His shoulders were tense, and there was sweat glistening on his brow. His jaw was tight, and he was taking slow, deliberate breaths in through his nose and out of his mouth.
I recognized those signs. He was in pain.
“Are you okay?” I asked, the heat of sexual tension with Liam shoved instantly aside. “Is it your back?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “I guess I slept in the wrong position last night.”
Liam looked between the two of us, confusion creasing his brow.
“Parker hurt his back about four years ago,” I explained. “He had a herniated disc and had to have back surgery.”
“I’m mostly fine, but I still get a little stiff sometimes,” Parker explained, one of his hands going to his lower back and rubbing in a tight circle. “Sorry for the interruption, but Dad sent me.”
“What does he need?” Liam asked, accepting the subject change easily.
“He’d like to speak with you if you have time.”
Liam’s gaze shifted to me, and I shrugged. “Go ahead. We can finish our marketing conversation later.” I needed a little distance after that near kiss anyway.
“Okay,” Liam said, his eyes dropping briefly to my lips before he looked away. “I’ll go talk to him now.”
He left the office without another word, and I had to wonder if he was as flustered as I was by what almost happened between us. As soon as he was gone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“What’s going on?” Parker asked once we were alone.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I ducked my head, pretending I needed to check the calendar on my tablet.
“Don’t be obtuse, Morgan,” Parker said, gesturing to the door that Liam just exited through, then winced because the jerky movement caused him pain. “You’re seriously going to pretend I didn’t walk in on a moment?”
I tried to maintain a poker face. “You’re clearly imagining things.”
“And you’re a bad liar,” he countered. “You both looked guilty when I walked in here, and you were blushing.”
“You’re too observant for your own good,” I muttered beneath my breath.
I wasn’t going to admit to anything going on between us, but I also felt my cheeks growing warm once again as I remembered the way Liam almost kissed me. And how much I’d wanted it.
“You’re blushing again,” Parker pointed out.
I sighed.
“Listen, I’m not trying to give you a hard time, and you know I’ve never been one to interfere in your love life, but you and Liam…that’s a bad idea.” His lips pursed with disapproval. “The two of you hooking up wouldn’t be good for business.”
His words landed hard because I already knew Parker was right. Hearing him say it out loud just made the truth impossible to ignore. I was playing with fire. And for what? A man who had disappeared the first time I’d slept with him? A man who made it very clear he was emotionally unavailable?
The attraction wasn’t worth the risk. Not to the job, and certainly not to my pride.
Of course, it was easier to be resolute about the situation when Liam wasn’t standing three inches away, looking at me like he wanted to ruin my self-control all over again.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s nothing going on between us.”
There was a moment of tense silence as Parker studied me. Finally, he gave a curt nod.
“Okay, I’ll let it go,” he said, his brows still furrowed. “I just…I don’t want anything to compromise our business arrangement with Liam.”
“Me neither,” I assured him. I didn’t want to linger on this conversation, so I pivoted fast. “How’s Becca doing? It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her.”
Parker grinned. It was a little strained because of his lingering back pain, but I knew he was trying his best to act normal. “She’s good. Still dealing with some heartburn, but she had it with the first pregnancy too. It’s manageable.”
I laughed. “She’d probably disagree.” I remember her complaining about those symptoms when she was pregnant with Gracie four years ago.
“Yeah, probably,” he admitted, rubbing at his back again. “Actually, that reminds me. Would you mind babysitting tomorrow night? It’s been a while since I took Becca out, and I wanted to treat her to a nice dinner.”
“Of course,” I said immediately, since I had no set plans for Friday evening. “I love spending time with Gracie.”
We parted ways and I walked back to my own office, closed the door, and set my tablet down, determined to actually focus on work this time. No more replaying almost-kisses, heated looks, or imaginary scenarios where Liam Powers forgot what professional boundaries were.
Time to get my head on straight and keep it that way. For real.
* * *
“I gots the nail polish,” Gracie said, walking into the kitchen with her little hands full of the colorful glass bottles.
I’d just finished loading our dinner plates into the dishwasher, so I rushed over and rescued the glass containers before they tumbled to the floor and made a mess.
Gracie followed me to the kitchen table.
I’d been babysitting for about an hour. We started off with a game of hide and seek before eating a simple dinner of spaghetti and green beans, the three-year-old’s current favorite meal.
Now, I assumed she wanted pretty fingernails. “So, we’re giving each other manicures, huh?”
Gracie shook her head. “No, I gonna paint your nails,” she said, correcting my assumption.
“Well,” I said, fighting a laugh. “I guess I’m the client tonight.”
I grabbed the nail polish remover from the bathroom to remove the red color I was already wearing. This was going to be a huge mess, but honestly, I didn’t care. There was no universe in which I’d tell my adorable niece no.
She insisted on doing each nail a different color, and I ended up with more polish on my skin than my nails. But half an hour later, we were done, and she looked so proud of her work that I made sure to make a big fuss over how much I loved it.
Once the nail polish was dry, we went into the living room and turned on a Disney movie.
I grew up watching the classics, but Gracie’s current favorite was about a Scottish girl with a bow and arrow that accidentally turned her mom into a bear.
I actually enjoyed it and got so wrapped up in watching the movie that I didn’t immediately notice when Gracie fell asleep on the couch beside me.
When her little snores reached my ears, I looked over to see her sprawled out on her back, her long eyelashes resting against her cheek and her dark curls haloed around her head. She looked so cute that my heart swelled with affection.
Carefully lifting her into my arms, I carried her up the stairs to her bedroom and settled her onto her toddler mattress. She’d already changed into pajamas right after dinner, so all I had to do was tuck the covers around her and turn on her nightlight before slipping out of the room.
I’d just pulled the door closed behind me when my phone started to ring in my pocket. I flinched at the sudden sound before rushing down the hall away from Gracie’s room so that the ringtone didn’t wake her. Pulling it out, I saw that it was Whitney.
I hadn’t spoken to my best friend since the previous weekend, so I hadn’t had the chance to fill her in on everything going on at work. Eager to talk to her, I answered just before my voicemail picked up.
“Hello?” I walked downstairs and back to the kitchen.
“Hey,” she greeted me. “What are you up to?”
The question itself didn’t tell me anything, but there was a slight hesitation in Whitney’s voice that made me frown. I put the call on speakerphone and placed the phone on the kitchen island while I poured myself a glass of wine.
“I’m just babysitting Gracie. Is everything okay with you?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She hesitated for a moment. “I just need to tell you something…”
I took a sip of the sweet red wine and braced myself. Whatever it was, it sounded serious.
“I saw something on social media today,” she finally said. “James is getting married.”
I blinked. That was it? The urge to laugh bubbled up. “Oh my God, Whit. I thought someone died.” I took another sip of wine before picking up the phone and heading to the living room couch. I settled in with my feet tucked underneath me.
Whitney exhaled, a long gust of worry leaving her. “So…you’re not upset?”
“Absolutely not,” I said emphatically. “All of that was years ago and I promise you I’m over it.”
It was true. James was once the great unrequited love of my life and if I’d gotten this news two or three years ago, it would have devastated me. But I wasn’t still in love with the man. We weren’t even in contact these days.
Hearing about his wedding didn’t reignite any of those old feelings, but it did remind me of how it felt to be cast aside, to feel like I wasn’t good enough. I used to wonder what was wrong with me that made it so easy for James to keep me in the friend-with-benefits zone and never see me as more.
And stupidly, just for a second, my mind flickered to Liam. To waking up alone in that hotel room. To that same sting in my chest. But I forced myself to breathe through it, because I knew the situation wasn’t the same.
Liam wasn’t James. And what had happened with Liam wasn’t a reflection of my worth. It was a reflection of his walls and his inability to stay when something felt real, and not a flaw in me.
“Well, I was a little concerned the news about James would bother you, but I’m glad you’re okay,” Whitney said, bringing my attention back to our conversation. “Besides, you can do better than a playboy like him, anyway.”
My mind betrayed me with an immediate image of Liam—broad shoulders, expensive suit, that focused stare he got when he was listening. The way he’d leaned toward me yesterday in his office, like kissing me was the most natural thing in the world.
Yeah, I sure knew how to pick them. Another man who didn’t stick around when things got too intense. Another man with charm to spare and a past he seemingly wasn’t over. A playboy? Not exactly. But unavailable? Absolutely.
I forced myself to shake it off before Whitney could hear every intrusive thought spiraling through my head. “Anyway,” I said, clearing my throat and shifting gears fast, “Speaking of complicated men…there’s something I haven’t told you yet.”
“Oh, no,” she said, immediately alert. “What now?”
“Liam, the guy from my birthday?” I said, knowing she’d realize who I meant. “He’s one of the investors working with GalvaTech.”
There was a beat of stunned silence before Whitney practically shrieked, “Are you kidding me? What the hell. How did that even happen?”
“You think I planned it?” I muttered, rubbing my forehead. “I walked into the conference room and surprise, there he was.”
Whitney groaned dramatically. “Of all the offices in New York, he had to walk into yours. Girl, that is a crazy coincidence.”
I sighed. “Trust me, I know.”
“Clearly, we have a lot to catch up on. Let’s have dinner tomorrow night,” Whitney insisted. “It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve had some quality girl time.”
I smiled. “You’re on.”
Maybe a night out was just what I needed to get my mind off a certain tall, dark, and sexy businessman. But even as I hung up the phone, I knew the odds of walking into work Monday morning unaffected by Liam Powers was nothing more than wishful thinking.
Because whatever was happening between us wasn’t fading. It was temptation in a tailored suit, and resisting him was starting to feel impossible, even knowing that giving in might mean setting myself up for potential heartbreak.