Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Audrey
As we step into Liam’s mother’s house, the sound of excited chatter and laughter fills the air. My eyes widen in surprise as I take in the scene before me—not only his parents—and stepdad are here. Also my entire family is gathered, their faces beaming with joy.
“What’s going on?” I mumble under my breath, my heart racing with a mixture of nervousness and confusion. I glance up at Liam, seeking reassurance, but he looks just as taken aback as I am.
Max steps forward, a grin stretching from ear to ear. “Congratulations, Sis. I’m so happy to learn that my best friend will become my brother,” he says, pulling me into a warm hug.
A part of me wants to say, thank you, Judas for the backstabbing. Instead I ask, “Why is everyone here?” My voice muffled against his chest. I pull back, my brows furrowed in confusion.
Max gives me an apologetic shrug. “Liam sent me a text that you’d be arriving here first. Mom saw it.” He grimaces. “Sorry.”
Suddenly, everyone surges forward, surrounding us in a sea of hugs and well-wishes. I feel like I’m drowning in a whirlpool of questions and congratulations, my head spinning as I try to keep up with the barrage of inquiries.
“Okay, spill it. How did you two lovebirds actually get together?” Aunt Carol demands. She leans in close, her perfume overwhelming my senses.
Liam shoots me a sideways glance, his hand finding mine and giving it a reassuring squeeze. It’s as if he’s saying, “We’re ready for this, calm down.”
But in truth, I’m not. Yet, I squeeze back anyway because that’s what fake fiancées do, right? Pretend to be ready for anything. I plaster a smile on my face, hoping it looks genuine enough to fool everyone.
“Well, it all started with a chance encounter at the airport,” I begin, my voice shaking slightly despite my efforts to sound confident. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the performance that could make or break everything. Liam’s warm palm presses against the small of my back.
The corner of Liam’s mouth quirks up in amusement, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He’s enjoying this, I realize, and I can’t help but feel a flicker of irritation. How can he be so calm when my nerves are frayed to the breaking point?
“The airport?” Someone asks in a disappointed tone, their voice carrying over the murmurs from the crowd. I tense, my heart jumping into my throat as I realize we’ve already let them down with the lackluster start to our love story.
“Well, that’s not sexy,” someone else adds. “What’s next? At least I hope there’s a bathroom mishap.” I realize it’s cousin Tim, his voice drips sarcasm.
Asshole.
They want a sexy story? Has anyone had a sexy meet-cute?
I can feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck, and I have to resist the urge to hide my face in my hands. My stomach churns with anxiety, and I wonder if we’ve already blown our chance at convincing them.
I glance at Liam, my eyes pleading for help. His hand drifts lower, thumb grazing my hip in a way that sends delicious tremors through me. Is he playing along or genuinely flirting? My heart stutters at the thought, and I have to bite back a gasp.
“Well, I have to admit, it’s not the most romantic setting. It was definitely not Paris. But sometimes the most extraordinary connections bloom in the most ordinary of places. So, yeah. It was at the coffee shop in the San Diego International Airport . . .” Liam picks up the story, his voice smooth and confident. “Audrey spilled her latte all over my shoe. I would’ve been mad, except she looked so horrified, and right after, I immediately recognized her. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He winks at me, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. My skin tingles where his thumb continues to stroke my hip, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
“Our eyes met and . . . Well, it was like the whole world fell away. Have you ever experienced a connection so intense, so cosmic, that it defies explanation?” I pause, letting the suspense build before dropping my voice to an affected whisper. “That’s what happened between us.”
Mouth curved in a smirk, Liam picks up the thread. “She had this adorable furrow between her brows as she glared up at me. She was part embarrassed, part furious. I couldn’t resist needling her a bit.” His fingers splay possessively over my waist, making me shiver.
The heat of his touch sears through the thin fabric of my shirt, and I have to bite back a gasp. “I asked if she always bulldozed her way through crowded spaces without a care in the world. ‘You haven’t changed much, Little McCallister.’”He grins. “Though I had noticed that she had. Aud had transformed into a gorgeous woman and I was dying to invite her for coffee or spend time with me forever—and yes, I get the irony of wanting to have coffee after the incident.”
“He did,” I confirm, nodding my head. A smile tugs at my lips as if I remember the playful glint in his eyes that day. “But then he smiled, as if he had seen the sun finally come out after a dark, stormy night.” I lean into him, my body molding to his side as if it belongs there.
“I mean, how couldn’t I? Didn’t matter that she’d just doused me in overpriced airport coffee. She’s so gorgeous, and even more so when she gets mortified. Plus, I realized she wasn’t just my best friend’s kid sister anymore. Nope. She was now Audrey McCallister—the woman that made my heart beat erratically in the best way possible.” He reaches out, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. His fingers linger on my cheek, and I have to suppress a shiver. The tenderness in his gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and for a moment, I almost believe the words he’s saying. “Yep. Even after she covered me in coffee, she was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen.”
The reverence in his words make my knees weak. God, he’s good at this—too good, really. I have to remind myself that he’s merely an excellent actor selling our ruse. Doesn’t make the burning awareness between us any less intoxicating, though.
Holding his stare, I pick up the narrative once more, my voice slightly breathless. “Indeed, I was mortified. But Liam was so charming, so kind. He insisted on buying me a new latte, and we ended up sitting down while we waited for our respective flights.”
“As we tried to catch up, we realized we were heading to London—on the same flight.” He smirks. There’s a mixture of amusement and something deeper in those blue eyes. It’s so intense that I’m having trouble holding his gaze. “It was like a sign. The perfect moment to spend time with this gorgeous woman.” His gaze rakes over me, and I feel a blush heating my cheeks.
A ripple of intrigued murmurs passes through our captive audience. I can feel the weight of their stares, studying our every move, looking for any hint of deception. Liam’s thumb strokes over my knuckles, the simple gesture igniting tingles up my arm and yet, calms me. I lean into him, breathing in his woodsy cologne.
Nothing stops him. He’s taking his role of doting fiancé too seriously. “I used my miles so we could both sit in first class. I had ten hours with her, and I didn’t want to miss a single moment.” His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
“I had plans. A presentation to create and things to do, though, I was trying to play hard to get.” My voice teasing. I tilt my head, looking up at him through my lashes, a coy smile playing on my lips.
The corner of Liam’s mouth quirks up in amusement. I can’t help but be drawn into the playful banter between us, even though it’s all an act for our audience. My heart races, the thrill of the game making my blood sing.
“She mentioned that, but I really wanted to get to know the adult her. I planned to use those ten hours. If possible we’d have three or four dates by the time we landed in London.” He winks, his grin turning devilish. I have to resist the urge to fan myself.
“It was okay at best,” I try to joke, my voice slightly breathless. “Right as we took our seats, he invited me to dinner—though it was part of the deal, first class and all that.”
“Dinner was just the start,” he says, voice dropping huskily. “By the end of that first meal, I knew I was a goner. Hopelessly addicted to this woman’s company . . . among other things.” His eyes darken, the implication clear, and I feel a rush of heat coursing through my veins.
Liam’s gaze seems to draw me in, a magnetic force that I can’t resist. His voice is low and husky as he continues, “That first night was just the start of our whirlwind romance. We couldn’t seem to get enough of each other.”
He continues, describing how he used the little free time we had in London to see each other and swoon me.
“After I left London, every minute felt like an eternity until I could see you again,” he murmurs in that low, rumbly voice that sends tingles down my spine. His eyes are intense, boring into mine with a heat that makes my breath catch. “Those two weeks dragged on forever, even when we exchanged texts and calls during our free time.”
“Aww,” someone says, while the rest shush them for interrupting.
Liam stares at me, leans and kisses my nose slightly. “When you finally landed in San Diego, I was a bundle of nerves waiting for you at the airport.” A slow smile curves his lips, and I can’t help but be drawn to the way his mouth moves, the way his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he speaks. “But the moment I saw you, it was like the world around us dissolved. All I could see was your beautiful face.”
I swallow hard, dizzy from the story.
The story of a guy whose love was so profound, so all-consuming he had for me just after a month of rekindling our friendship. The flowers he had when he waited for me at baggage claim, the way his face lit up when he saw me . . . It’s all so vivid in my mind.
As he continues talking about our life in San Diego, how we still keep our places but no matter what, we always spend our nights together, I feel a lump rising in my throat. Longing crashes over me in waves, a bittersweet ache that I can’t quite shake.
That, the relationship he’s describing is all I’ve ever wanted to have in my life.
If only his words were real instead of a fantasy. I would give anything to live those fleeting, blissful moments with someone. Obviously not him, but a man who I’ll learn to love more than life itself.
If he’s even real.
For some reason I can’t understand, I want so badly to believe this lucky woman who has the perfect romance with Liam could be me. To fully surrender to this dream of a shared life in sunny San Diego, nights tangled together in euphoric bliss. But the truth is, no matter how vividly I picture it, I’m still alone at the end of the day.
“This woman just won me over, though sometimes she gives me a hard time when I’m working in the kitchen. That’s her only flaw.” The teasing in his voice would make anyone think that we’re in fact a real couple.
“Sure, if by ‘work’ you mean blasting music and singing into the spoon like it’s a microphone,” I shoot back, my voice slightly breathless. “I’m the one doing all the work. You’re just the sous-chef.”
“Hey, the sous-chef is important and you have to remember that, ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ requires commitment,” he retorts in a taunting way.
I roll my eyes, though I can’t suppress the giggle that escapes me. He’s so good at this.
“Only Liam can turn the kitchen into a stage,” I add, my voice filled with affection. “Honestly, I think I knew I was madly in love right there—who else has the guts to cook grilled cheese and open a can of tomato soup while playing air guitar and singing?” I lean into him, my hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm.
“That’s because I’m awesome, babe,” Liam says, bowing his head with feigned humility. His lips twitch, fighting back a grin, and I can’t help but be charmed by his playful demeanor.
The room erupts in laughter, and I catch Liam’s eye, recognizing the shared thrill of our successful improvisation. Our families are eating out of the palm of our hands, utterly charmed by his story. It’s working. I can’t believe we’re selling it. For a fleeting moment, I believe we’re out of the woods. Relief washes over me, and I allow myself to relax, just a little.
“Oh, you two are just perfect,” Ms. Cohen says, her eyes misty with emotion. “If you want, we can call Father Sean to marry you this weekend.” She clasps her hands together, her expression hopeful.
“Per the internet and some obscure church, I can officiate,” my cousin James offers.
“Mom, this weekend is about Mr. and Mrs. McCallister,” Liam reminds her gently, ignoring James. “We want to wait and organize the perfect wedding.” His thumb strokes over my knuckles.
This man is so freaking swoony.
“What’s the perfect wedding?” Mom crosses her arms and stares at me, her gaze piercing. I feel like a deer caught in headlights, my mouth going dry as I try to come up with an answer.
My eyes open wide, and I swallow hard, my mind racing. I can feel the weight of everyone’s stares, the expectation hanging heavy in the air. My palms grow clammy, and I have to resist the urge to wipe them on my jeans. I glance at Liam, silently pleading for help.
Because honestly, I want to say, One with the man of my dreams and not some made up fiancé? But obviously I can’t. It’ll just destroy the work we created over the past hour and what might be the best story in the world.
“A destination wedding in Fiji,” Liam offers, his voice smooth and confident.
“You know I love the beach, Mom,” I add, my voice slightly breathless. I force a smile, trying to look excited about the idea, even as my stomach churns with anxiety.
“I won’t pay for a wedding in Fiji, more so when he didn’t even ask for your hand in marriage,” Dad’s voice suddenly booms around us and the room goes quiet after a few gasps.
“We already went through this, Dad,” Max is the one who takes over. “This is the twenty-first century. No one asks for anyone’s hand.”
Dad grumbles something I can’t understand and just the thought of my father being upset because of the wedding brings yet another wave of panic. I’m no doormat, but seriously sometimes it takes a lot to try to make these people happy. This is why I live on the other side of the country far away from them, but cut the distance with phone calls and texts. The best of two worlds.
“But Grandma Cohen won’t be able to be there,” Mom and Liam’s mom say simultaneously, their voices blending together in a chorus of disapproval. They exchange a look, their brows furrowed in concern.
“Why don’t you let us worry about the details,” Liam offers. “Maybe there’s a way everyone can be happy. Grandma will get to see our wedding, while my gorgeous fiancée will get the wedding of her dreams.”
Good luck making that happen, buddy. I just smile and hope that we can get out of Boston alive and single by Sunday. Somehow, I have the feeling that one of those two might not end up happening. Either one of our mothers will commit first degree murder for lying to them or hitch us against our wishes.
I just don’t know what’s going to happen, but hopefully it won’t be as bad as it feels.