Chapter 13
Charity
Heavy - Birdtalker
The text from Liam sat on my phone screen like a small miracle. At least that was how it felt each time I read it and tried to suppress the flutter of hope.
Liam
Charity, let me know when you next want to meet up about the business dinner
After our call where he’d been so brusque, it felt like an olive branch. Unless I was reading too much into it. With Liam, it was hard to tell.
I messaged back to suggest we meet at The Daffodil Diner after lunch. Somewhere neutral and public. Less intimate than my office, less likely for me to get distracted by the way he filled up a room.
When I arrived, he was already there, sitting at a corner table with two folders spread in front of him.
He was wearing a soft gray Henley, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his tanned forearms; his hair looked disheveled like he’d been running his hands through it.
Watching him sent another flutter through my chest.
“Hey,” I said, sliding into the seat across from him. “You beat me here.”
“Figured I should come prepared this time.” He gestured to the folders. “Made some notes about what we discussed.”
This was a new Liam from our previous meeting. He would have shown up empty-handed and gruff. This version had done his homework, and if I wasn’t mistaken, had ordered me a hot chocolate.
“That’s… great.” I pulled out my own planning folder, trying not to stare at how the afternoon light caught the green in his eyes. “And thanks for the hot chocolate.”
He didn’t quite blush, but there was a hint of pink on his cheeks. “I don’t know how you take your coffee. And—” he shrugged “—you get marshmallows and cream this time.”
I took a sip and groaned softly as the rich taste hit my tongue. “Aubrey makes the best hot chocolate.”
Liam raised a brow. “Better than mine?”
“Sorry, but it’s true.” My tongue flicked away the cream I felt on my top lip. “Okay, should we make a start with the final headcount?”
“You two look cozy.”
I looked up to see Aubrey herself, hovering next to us with a cloth in her hand. She grinned and Liam groaned.
“Business meeting, Aubrey.” He pulled his chair closer to the table, closing her out.
Undeterred, she leaned in closer, her head between us, flicking from one to the other like she was watching a tennis match. “Organizing events brings people together in unexpected ways, doesn’t it?”
Leaning back in my chair, I rolled my eyes at him which earned me a little smile. “Like Liam said, Aubrey, it’s just a business meeting.”
Aubrey Arthurs saw herself as Sweet Maple Falls resident matchmaker, even though she didn’t have the best track record. In fact, she was running at zero successes despite all her efforts.
“Yeah, Aubrey,” Liam muttered. “We need to get started.” He raised an eyebrow. “And I’m sure you’ve got cakes to make.”
Blinking, I opened my mouth to apologize to Aubrey, but she dropped her head back and let out a loud, belly laugh.
“Oh my,” she eventually said on a breathy sigh. “How na?ve you kids are.”
As she wandered off, still laughing, Liam picked up the sugar dispenser and studied it like it held the answer to every question ever asked.
“I suppose we should start,” I said, opening my folder.
“Yeah,” he said with a deep grumble. “We should.”
For the next hour, we worked through the details with an efficiency that surprised me.
He asked thoughtful questions about the menu, offered practical suggestions about seating arrangements, even had opinions about the timing of speeches.
When we leaned over the table to look at the venue layout together, I caught his scent, sawdust and coffee and something I couldn’t identify, but uniquely him.
It made my pulse quicken, my skin prickle with awareness.
“The bar should be here,” he said, his finger tracing the paper dangerously close to mine. “Better flow for guests.”
“Good point. It’s a temporary fixture so it shouldn't be an issue for the venue to move it.” My voice came out a little breathy, and I hoped that he didn’t notice.
We were working well together. More than well, we felt like a team and the realization both thrilled and terrified me.
“How are you feeling about things with Faith?” he asked, eyes down as he reviewed the final guest list.
My pen stilled on the paper I was making notes on. “She’s fine. Mrs. Rodriguez is taking good care of her.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I looked up to find him studying me with those penetrating green eyes. “She’s being difficult. Refusing to participate in any of the programs, won’t talk to the counselor. Mrs. Rodriguez says it’s normal, but…” I trailed off, realizing the softness of his gaze upon me.
“Charity.”
The way he said my name, gentle but firm, made something crack open in my chest. And the way his gaze was anchored to mine—it made me feel like I mattered, that maybe he wanted to know about my messy life and how I was barely holding it intact at times.
“It’s not your problem, Liam. Honestly it’s fine.” I turned back to the papers, but his hand covered mine, stopping my nervous shuffling.
“Do your parents know how bad the situation with Faith is?” His fingers wrapped around mine, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Have you actually told them why she was arrested?”
Sighing heavily, I shook my head. “No. I told them it was an altercation when she collected her stuff. They don’t know she’d been practically squatting for the last three months or had changed the locks on an apartment she wasn’t meant to be in.”
“So, you’re carrying all of it alone?”
It wasn’t a question, and the understanding nearly undid me. “It’s what I do. Fix things, handle things, organize.” I forced out a smile. “Make sure everyone is okay.”
He took a moment, studying me, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “What about you? Who makes sure you’re okay?” he finally asked.
The question hit me like a physical blow. When was the last time someone had asked me that? When was the last time I’d even considered my own wellbeing?
“Oh, I’m fine,” I said automatically, waving him away.
“Bullshit.” His thumb brushed across my knuckles, a gesture so gentle it made my eyes burn. “You’re clearly exhausted, trying to run a business and plan this dinner, all while dealing with Faith’s crisis and protecting your parents and probably managing ten other things I don’t know about.”
“That’s just life. Aren’t we all spinning more plates than we know what to do with?”
“I’m a great believer in only spinning the right amount. Knowing when we have too many. And I think you have far too many, Charity.” His voice was firm. “It’s unsustainable and you need to start letting other people help you.”
“Who?” The laugh that escaped was hollow. “My friends have their own lives, my dad has to take care of my mom, and Faith, well you know about Faith. So, there’s no one I can ask. I can’t just—”
“You can. Ask me.”
The words hung between us, charged with possibility and danger. I looked up to see him watching me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“Liam—”
“I know I’m not always the most welcoming of people,” he said, his voice rough. “But you showed up for me at the construction site, so let me return the favor.”
I shook my head. “You don’t owe me anything. You helped with Faith.”
“This isn’t about owing.” His fingers tightened around mine.
“It’s about taking the help when it’s offered.
” As the door to the diner opened, the breeze made the pages on the table flutter and drew Liam’s attention.
Quickly letting go, he waved at the couple coming in, our Fire Chief and his wife.
He then turned back to me. “You want to grab some dinner? There’s a place I know in Clementine Hill, good food, quiet.
We can talk about what Faith needs, or we can just…
not talk about anything serious at all.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. Was he asking me on a date? Or was it just two friends sharing a meal? The lines felt dangerously blurred.
“Charity,” he insisted. “One meal. Let loose and enjoy my scintillating company for a couple of hours.”
That made me laugh and some of the tension ebbed away. “Okay,” I heard myself say. “A couple of hours won’t hurt.”
His smile was small but genuine, transforming his entire face. “Good. There’s a place called Rafferty’s. It’s nothing fancy, but the burgers are decent and it’s usually quiet on weeknights.”
Having gathered our papers, we headed for the door, and when I felt his warm hand at the small of my back, something inside me changed. For once I wasn’t rushing home to handle a crisis with work or Faith or checking on someone else’s needs. For once, I was letting someone take care of me.
It felt wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.