Chapter 19
Emma
By the time the reception was done, my feet were throbbing in my heels and a headache hammered at my temples. After hours of loud music, lots of small talk, and forcing a smile on my face to pretend I was over the moon about marrying Liam, I was ready to be away from people for a while. My social battery was running on empty. There was only so much peopling and faking I could handle.
Maya and Oliver were slow dancing to an Ed Sheeran song, and Jameson was seated at one of the tables, rubbing Elsie’s foot in his lap. I imagined her feet hurt just as much as mine did. My throat was parched, like cotton was stuffed in my mouth, and I had just had the thought of getting a drink when a voice spoke behind me.
“Here.” I turned to find Liam handing me a plastic cup. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
He had shed his tux jacket, rolled up the sleeves, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his white shirt, giving me a glimpse at his tanned chest and that tattoo peeking out on his arm. When had he gotten that? We had talked as teenagers about getting tattoos when we were old enough, but I had always been too chicken since I didn’t have much of a pain tolerance. It seemed he had gone ahead with that idea without me.
I did not like the way that made me feel.
But that was stupid. It wasn’t like Liam owed me anything. If he’d wanted to get a tattoo in California, then good for him. I swallowed, shoving the thoughts away as I took the cup from him and said a quiet thank you.
Night had fallen, and tiki torches and string lights hung throughout the trees and gazebo set the farm ablaze in a way that I reluctantly admitted felt romantic. If there was one thing I had to hand to Bridget, she knew how to plan a party and make it beautiful.
The air had cooled down slightly now that the sun wasn’t infusing the atmosphere with heat, but my body felt hot to the touch. Maybe it was sunburn, maybe it was just exhaustion from the chaos of the day. I sipped at my water, wishing it would cool me down. Needless to say, I was ready to take a cold shower and crawl into bed for the night.
At the thought of bed…anxiety spilled through my veins, making my hands tremble and fingers tingle. My stomach twisted into knots.
I’d be going home to Liam’s townhouse tonight. Our townhouse.
The thought made me swallow wrong and I launched into a coughing fit. My eyes filled with tears, and Liam gently rubbed my back until I could breathe again.
“You okay?”
My face burned, and I avoided his watchful eyes as I took another careful sip. “I’m fine,” I croaked.
Liam studied me for a moment before getting to his feet. “I think we’ve been here long enough. Wanna get out of here and head home?”
Home. The word clanged through me.
I didn’t know if I would ever see our shared townhouse as home, but I was willing to give it a try if it meant getting out of these heels and this dress, finally putting my feet up, and sitting in silence for the first time all day.
“Yeah, let’s go.” I ignored the ache in my feet as I stood.
Without an ounce of hesitation, Liam took my hand in his and we snuck back around the house and across the field toward his truck. He stopped to hide us behind hay bales and the barn, glancing around before pulling me forward again.
“Should we tell Bridget we’re leaving?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. She’d be upset if we left without saying anything.
“She’ll survive.” He threw a sly smile over his shoulder. “We’ve done what she asked. We’ve earned a reprieve.”
It felt like we were kids again, sneaking around on the farm and getting into mischief. For the first time since Liam had returned to Meridel, things felt normal between us again.
Liam helped me and the oodles of fabric my dress had into his old truck before leaping into his own seat. The sound of the truck starting sounded like a monster truck revving. I waited, expecting Bridget to appear out of nowhere and demand we come back to the reception, but Liam shifted into gear and blasted out of there before it could happen. All thoughts of Bridget disappeared as I slipped my heels off my aching feet with a sigh.
I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the seat, the familiar old leather scent of Liam’s truck setting my nerves at ease. Maybe I’d take a bubble bath instead of a cold shower. My muscles were screaming at me, and I couldn’t wait to get this dress off and throw on an oversized tee and sweats.
Liam looked over at me as he drove, his shoulders tense, but he didn’t say a word. Blessed silence after an entire day of noise filled the cab of the truck, and I settled back into the seat, content for the first time all day. My eyes were heavy, slipping closed against my will. Before I knew it, Liam was squeezing my arm.
“Em, we’re here.”
I rubbed at my eyes, completely forgetting about the makeup plastered to my face, and looked around. We were parked in the driveway of a red-brick townhome that resembled a row house in Europe. There was a garland of peonies hanging over the front steps with a banner that said “Welcome Home, Newlyweds.”
I rolled my eyes. Bridget didn’t miss a thing. Nothing like announcing to the neighborhood that we’d just got married.
“Come on, let’s get you in some pajamas so you can relax,” Liam said, interrupting my perusal of the house.
Mmm. Pajamas.
I hadn’t even realized how it sounded until his cheeks darkened. “I mean, you can get in pajamas…not that I’ll help you in some.” He rubbed at his neck, giving me a sheepish smile, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at his embarrassment.
Liam was around to my door in a heartbeat, opening it and grabbing my waist to help me down to the ground. The shifting of my weight put me off balance and I fell into him, our chests touching. His arms were strong, unwavering, as I slowly slid against his chest until my feet hit the driveway. Being this close to him was pure agony. Before, I had only ever dreamed of being in his arms, of him holding me in such a way.
Instead of stepping away when my feet were firmly planted on the ground, Liam kept his grip on my waist, looking down at me with his brows furrowed. His heart was racing beneath where my hand rested on his chest. I swallowed, moving my hands to his arms. It looked like he glanced at my lips, but it was too dark to tell for sure.
Surely not. This was Liam after all. Why would he want to kiss me?
I suddenly wished there were more streetlights on this road so that I could see his face clearer.
Come on, streetlights, help a girl out.
The air was still sticky despite the sun having gone down, and my hands were clammy where they held onto Liam’s biceps. His generous biceps.
Stop thinking about his biceps, Emma. This is your best friend.
He’s also your husband now.
Okay, well, he’s going to have to stop holding me so close and staring at me like that.
As if he heard my internal argument with myself, Liam cleared his throat and released me, taking a step back.
“Come on, I’ll show you around.” He fished out two duffel bags from the bed of the truck, one for each of us I assumed, and led me to the door. The rest of my things were going to be brought over tomorrow by a moving company Bridget had hired, and I tried not to think about what might be in those bags. Knowing her, she probably packed mine full of lacy little things, hoping I’d take advantage of the situation.
Which I certainly would not be.
This was Liam. He might legally be my husband, but our relationship wasn’t real, and there would be none of…that.
My face heated, and I was thankful for the shadows of the porch as Liam unlocked the front door.
Then he froze.
“Uh, hang on a sec,” he said, lifting the duffle bags inside before spinning to face me.
“Liam?”
It was still too dark to make out his face, but it didn’t matter because he suddenly looped his arm around my waist and then plucked me off the ground with another beneath my knees. My arms automatically went around his neck, my heart thundering in my chest.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked.
“I know this wasn’t your ideal marriage, Em, and while a lot of this is fake, I don’t want to take everything from you. I don’t want you to feel like you missed out because of me.” He pulled me tighter against him, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “So, for a moment we’re going to pretend it’s real and I’m going to carry you across the threshold. Okay?”
Swoon!
I was speechless. I had no idea what to say or how to respond to his thoughtfulness. Why would he do this for me? In the end, all I could do was nod.
He lifted me higher and stepped through the door. “Welcome home, Emma Walker.”
Goosebumps prickled on my skin at my new name on his lips. Since both of his hands were holding me, and the lights were still off, engulfing us in darkness, it somehow heightened my awareness of Liam even more, the places he was touching tingling in anticipation.
Anticipation of what, Emma? Nothing is going to happen!
Our faces were close, his hot breath puffing on my lips, and I thought—very briefly—about pressing mine to his one more time just to see what would happen. But then I remembered that we were stuck in this house together, and I didn’t need to make it any more awkward than it already was. I had felt sparks fly when we had our first kiss at the wedding, but that didn’t mean that Liam had. It didn’t mean he wanted to repeat the experience.
I rolled my lips into my mouth and held still until he finally put me down, cold smothering me as he moved away. A heartbeat later and a lamp flicked on.
I squinted as my eyes adjusted before glancing around. It was fairly small, though the open concept living room and kitchen with vaulted ceilings helped make it feel bigger. Everything was white—white walls, white kitchen cabinets, white countertops, and white backsplash. Black window trim and colorful art pieces broke it up here and there, mixing with earthy wood tones in the furniture and other decor. It was cozy even if I would’ve preferred something a little brighter.
The kitchen island was long and took up most of the back half of the room. I wasn’t much for baking, but I suddenly had the urge to bake a crap ton of cookies and make a mess on that island. Even if this was only temporary, it was a kitchen that any girl would dream of.
A staircase sat on the left side which I assumed led to the single bedroom. There was a powder room next to the front door, and a fireplace in the corner of the room. Liam was right. It was nice. Cozy.
The scent of Liam’s cologne lingered everywhere which made my mind feel a little foggy. His cologne was something I’d always wanted to secretly bottle and take everywhere.
Not in a creepy way, though.
Just in a I’m in love with my best friend and want to carry his scent with me since I can’t actually have him kind of way. See? Not creepy.
I chose to see my hopeless romantic side as not creepy, anyway.
“The bedroom is at the top of the stairs,” Liam said, interrupting my thoughts. He nodded his head, and I followed him.
The only sound was our footsteps shuffling on the carpeted stairs. There was a small landing at the top where a bookcase sat, a fluffy bean bag chair next to it. The shelf was mostly empty, and I made a mental note to fill it as soon as possible.
Liam continued into the bedroom, and I stopped in my tracks as soon as I entered, even more overwhelmed by Liam’s scent here than I was downstairs. I fought the urge to go roll around in the mountain of pillows on the bed.
Ugh. Get a grip, Emma. Act like an adult.
“I put fresh sheets on the bed, and there are clean towels in the bathroom,” he said, pointing at the doorway that led to the master bath. “There’s soap and everything in there, but if you need something else, let me know and I’ll have Bridget get it.” He stopped in front of me. “I want you to be comfortable here. It’s as much your home as it is mine.”
I could only nod. It didn’t feel like my home, even if the warm sage-colored walls and the neutral bedspread were comforting and inviting. It wasn’t my soap and towels in the bathroom, it wasn’t my blanket on the bed or my slippers on the floor. He could say it was my home all he wanted, but this was only temporary. It was like a hotel I’d be living in for a year, and then things would go back to normal.
Right?
Liam swung his arms at his sides for a moment before playing with the hem of his shirt which told me he was…unsettled. Maybe anxious.
“Thanks, Liam,” I offered, hoping it would calm him.
His mouth pulled into a half-smile. “The couch downstairs has a bed in it. I’ll stay down there so you can have privacy up here. I’ll just need to use the shower occasionally since the bathroom downstairs doesn’t have one.”
I tried not to audibly gulp as I said, “Sure. Of course.”
Liam and I sharing a shower?
I mean, separately, of course. But still.
My stomach tied into knots just thinking about it.
How would I ever survive living with Liam Walker?