Chapter Fifteen ZOE
Chapter Fifteen
Z OE
Most days, I didn’t know what to make of Liam.
Especially on the days when he clearly kept his distance from both me and Mira.
The bulk of the emotional labor involving her was my responsibility. When she tripped and scraped her knee on the concrete around the pool, she ran to me. I was the one to clean her up and dry her tears.
One particular night, a couple of weeks after I’d moved in, she woke inconsolable from a fierce nightmare.
Because I’d gone to bed before Liam, he must have still been awake, and the sound of him pounding up the stairs woke me just as much as her cries. But once in the room, as I pulled Mira into my arms and settled on the chair in the corner, smoothing my hand over her sweat-soaked back while she cried for her mom, he stood with his back against the doorframe, his face stoic.
He was watchful.
Clearly worried.
And noticeably distant.
Around the house and in the yard, I hardly had to lift a finger. When I cooked dinner, the dishes were washed and put away within an hour of us finishing.
The yard was immaculate, the pool always clean and sparkling, even though it mostly went unused beyond trying to bribe Mira into getting in. We were usually unsuccessful, but we still tried.
In the more mundane moments, when emotions didn’t run so high, Liam was much more present.
The nights when I was bent over my laptop, eyes blurry from staring at numbers, he stepped in to do bathtime, and down the stairs I’d hear the low rumble of his voice as he talked her through the evening routine.
“Don’t you try to steal that bath duck, young lady,” he said sternly. “No, don’t give me those eyes—they won’t help you one little bit.” A pause. “Thank you. Now go get your jams on, yeah?”
Because he couldn’t see me, I grinned. No matter how rough he seemed to be with Mira, she adored him. It was the only reason his demeanor didn’t bother me.
And some days, he was the most dangerous version of himself.
Playful Liam.
With Mira in bed early because of a nap-free day, I brought my Kindle closer to my face, my heart racing as I tapped to the next page.
The hero leaned in, cupping her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. Her breath came in short, choppy bursts, her chest heaving and her lips begging to be kissed.
“Be sure,” he whispered.
Just after he said it, she grabbed him and surged up, their lips—
“What the bloody hell are you reading?”
I jumped, my Kindle clattering out of my hands and onto the kitchen counter.
Right into the puddle of melted ice cream that had been dripping off my forgotten spoon.
My eyes narrowed in a glare. “Thanks.”
Liam picked up my Kindle by its corner, whistling at the mess of ice cream coating the case. “Look at that. It’s everywhere .”
The page I’d been reading was still on the screen, and I leaned forward, trying to snatch the device out of his grip. Liam tugged it higher, turning it toward him.
I reached for it again, but Liam was too fast.
I went up on tiptoe, grabbing at his arm, which was as hard as a steel beam. Even when I tugged with all my strength, his arm didn’t budge. “This is gross abuse of your height, Davies.”
“This is what you’re reading every day, is it?” Liam peered at the screen. “ His hands, big and rough and demanding, coasted over her ... ”
Liam must have skimmed a few lines, because he stopped reading, brows raised. Then he handed my Kindle back, the slightest flush on his cheeks.
I clutched it to my chest. “Thank you.”
He gave a slight nod, then proceeded to tear off a few squares of paper towel, which he dampened under the water and handed to me.
As I cleaned off my case and the mess on the counter, I laughed under my breath. “You know it’s good when I waste my ice cream.” Digging my spoon into the bowl, I took a huge bite.
His eyes were heavy on me while I did. “That’s what Rosa and her little gang read at their book clubs?”
I nodded. “They told me the first time I came that if I wanted depressing literature, I should go elsewhere. Strictly the happily-ever-afters for that group. According to Martha, it’s because reality is sad enough and they need to get their rocks off where they can.”
Liam arched one eyebrow, the firm line of his mouth gentling slightly. “Makes sense.”
When my Kindle case was clean, I balled up the paper towel squares, tossing them in his direction when he motioned for them.
The garbage container was tucked away inside a built-in drawer next to the sink, and as Liam tugged it open, my eyes snagged on the flex of muscles in his forearms.
Strength was such a weird concept if you thought too hard about it. Underneath flimsy skin, so easily bruised and torn and cut, he held an incredible amount of power. He could manhandle a man three times my size. Run down a receiver and knock him off his feet.
It was all too easy to imagine what he could do with someone my size.
“And you like it?” he asked.
My gaze shot up to his. “Like what?”
Liam gave me a strange look, and I wondered if my cheeks were bright red, because they felt bright red. “The books,” he said slowly.
“Oh. Yeah, they’re great.” I took another quick bite of ice cream, sucking the spoon clean. Liam’s attention stayed locked on my mouth as I did. “I, uh, didn’t read much romance until college. I was always more of a fantasy-slash-magical-powers-slash-riding-dragons kind of girl.”
He made a quiet noise in the back of his throat. “Let me guess—men in the books make men in reality look like a bunch of wankers.”
I laughed. “You have to admit, it doesn’t take much, considering some of our choices out there. With blinders on and stars in my eyes, I married a man who was more in love with his own reflection than anything else.” I shook my head. “The men in these books aren’t perfect, and I think that’s what makes the stories even better. Imperfect people still have to find a way to overcome their issues if they want to be happy. It’s as simple and as difficult as that. Reading their stories is the best way to have hope for our own, I guess.”
If I hadn’t been watching his face while I answered, I might have missed it. A flicker in his gaze, a shift in his frame.
“And you have that.” The thick line of his throat moved on a swallow, and my eyes tracked every single movement. “That hope.”
It wasn’t a question. Just a low, scraping statement that I felt in the pit of my belly.
“Sometimes,” I admitted quietly. “Not always. When I look at the time I wasted with Charles, it’s hard for me not to feel like I missed out on something ... my own fairy-tale ending, I guess.”
Liam didn’t say anything, but his eyes studied my face with an intensity that I couldn’t name.
“Fairy tale,” he repeated. Liam took his time with those two words, tasting them a bit.
It was unfortunate how delicious they sounded to me in that voice of his. But there was an edge of cynicism to it that had my stomach swirling.
Did I really want to talk to him about this? We’d hardly settled into a comfortable existence, let alone gotten to a point where I was willing to talk about my relationship insecurities.
So I did what any self-respecting woman would do if an inconveniently hot guy started asking her about what hope she had for future relationships ...
I deflected like my life depended on it.
“What about you?” I asked. “Haven’t you ever been tempted to marry?”
His eyes were steady on mine. “That two questions or one?”
“You know it’s only one.”
Liam grunted in concession. “No. Never been tempted.”
“Because you don’t like people,” I said seriously.
His lips twitched. “Part of it.”
I would get a full smile out of Liam Davies if it was the last thing I did on this earth.
My mouth opened, then closed.
“Oh bloody hell,” he muttered, “she’s lost for words. That’s never good.”
“It’s the weekend, so I get two questions,” I reminded him.
After releasing a beleaguered sigh that had me rolling my eyes, he made a go-ahead gesture with his hand.
I chose my words carefully. “I know it can’t be from a lack of opportunity. You’re a professional athlete.”
“Takes a bit more than that to end up married.”
“It does,” I conceded. “And you’re not exactly ugly,” I added lightly.
His eyes burned into mine, but he didn’t so much as blink.
“So why haven’t you?” My throat was bone-in-the-desert dry, and I swallowed against it. “I’ve never even known you to date. Men or women.”
Liam licked his bottom lip.
My stomach flipped, weightless and quick, when he did that.
For a moment, I didn’t think he’d answer. I thought he’d just sit there and stare and make me want to pry his head open with a can opener so I could physically extract his thoughts.
But when he did, his gaze was unflinching, and I felt it in my bones. “There’s people in this world like you, Goldilocks. The ones who have stars in their eyes, make decisions based on what they’ve always wanted. You want Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet, so you can ride off into the sunset together.”
My heart was hammering. Why did all of this feel so loaded?
“That’s quite the oversimplification, but I’ll allow it for the purposes of polite conversation.”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “I’ve made decisions based on what I don’t want. What I’ve never wanted.”
Something about this conversation had me imagining that I was walking a tightrope. The slightest tremble or a single misstep and everything would get all wobbly. We’d found an equilibrium, even if it was tentative and new and untested.
But I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to test the limits.
Curiosity was often painted as a bad thing, given that it killed the cat and all.
Maybe my own tendency to want to know things, to understand things, would kick-start something I couldn’t undo. The impetus for derailing all the forward progress we’d made.
Still ... there was no pause button on all those questions I wanted answers to. Couldn’t stop myself from wondering why I suddenly wanted to know more and more and more about this man.
I just didn’t know what would happen when I pushed past the limit of what he was willing to give.
But with his cryptic words hanging between us— what I’ve never wanted —I knew what I’d choose.
“A family,” I said quietly.
He hummed. “Got it in one.”
“That’s why you panicked so badly at the lawyer’s office.”
Liam gave no indication as to whether I was right or wrong, but I knew the truth.
“Why, though?” I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Despite all his protestations, he was good at this. That’s why I wanted to know more. Learn more. Figure him out on a deeper level.
Nothing he said aligned with the way he acted.
Liam inhaled slowly, his eyes dropping to my mouth for one prolonged moment. “That’s three questions, love.”
At the endearment, my heart ached. I knew he didn’t mean it, not like that, but even so, there was a tangible reaction deep under my ribs.
I’d never had a green thumb, but I could imagine what it was like to pry open a small pocket of lush, dark soil, to plant a seed when you had great hopes for what might blossom later.
Something to tend and take care of.
That one little word— love —was Liam pressing the hope of something lush and beautiful into a neglected place I didn’t realize I’d been holding on to.
For now, though, I ignored whatever might grow from that seed.
I had to. It was far too complicated to give it anything more than simple recognition.
My chin rose an inch. “No, that’s two. You never really answered me.”
He stepped toward me until I had to tilt my face up to look him square in the eye. My heart careened wildly at the closeness. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I didn’t.”
And then he brushed past me.
“Good night, Valentine. Enjoy your book.”
The air left my lungs in a hard punch, and my eyelids fluttered shut.
“Oh boy,” I whispered. “This is not good.”