TEN
“Hi.” I smiled brightly. “I’m Kat. I love your top.”
Dot shifted in her seat and looked at me, perusing me from the top of my head to the bottom. My grin remained plastered on my face while she assessed me.
“Moisturiser.”
“Moisturiser?”
“You have dry skin. You’ll regret it at my age if you don’t moisturise. Just like I regret not using sun cream.” She rubbed her forearms absentmindedly. “We didn’t know, of course. I used cooking oil when I honeymooned in Cornwall with my husband. I covered myself with olive oil. Extra virgin, of course.”
I laughed. “Of course.”
Her eyes twinkled. “My husband wasn’t by the end, though.” She winked, and I snorted.
She played with the ring on her left hand.
“Do you mind if I sit?” I asked, pointing to the chair.
“It’s a free country, doll.” She shrugged, and I realised that was all the enthusiasm I would get.
“How long were you married?” I asked .
“Sixty-seven years this year. I don’t like to stop counting, even though my Archie passed”—she frowned—“it must be ten years now since he was gone.”
Large hands came down on Dot’s shoulders, and her hands came up to cover his.
“Thirteen years, now, Dot,” Liam said gently. His chef whites were gone, replaced with a light blue jumper that brought out the light brown in his hair. His relaxed blue jeans fit his muscular legs and had an irresistible worn-in look. They made me picture him pulling those jeans back on in the morning after…
No.
Nope.
I was not completing that particular dirty daydream.
Dot patted his hands. “Yes, you’re right, love. That’s it. Thirteen now.” She smiled sadly but then seemed to remember that Liam was here, and her face transformed.
“You. Sit with me. I never see you anymore. Always up a ladder, working.” Dot shook her head.
Liam put his hands up. “Okay, okay. Gimme a sec.” He dragged a chair between me and Dot.
Dot gasped and grabbed his hands. “Oh. Are you getting more handsome? If I was twenty years younger.”
“Cougar.”
Dot glanced at me. “Have you met…”
“Kat,” I repeated.
“Yes, Kat. Sorry, love.” Dot smiled.
“No problem.”
Liam’s eyes trailed over me. “Yes, we’ve met. Kat called me a prick the first time we met.”
I choked.
“What did you do?” Dot asked Liam, her eyebrows drawn.
“I stole her parking space.”
“Liam,” Dot said, her lips pursed. “Really.”
“At my dad’s funeral.”
Dot’s eyes went comically wide, and Liam gave me a dirty look as if to say, You didn’t have to add that particular detail .
“I deserved it,” Liam said, his eyes not leaving mine. I could feel my cheeks burning, but I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like Liam was flirting with me; he was just recounting our first meeting. But I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a charged undercurrent to his words or if I was just imagining it.
Dot clucked her teeth. “Your mum brought you up better than that, Liam.”
Liam nodded. “I know.” He glanced at me. “But in all fairness, I couldn’t help but want to get under her skin.” Liam’s lips lifted. “She made it too easy.”
“You sound just like your brother,” Dot said, shaking her head. “How is that troublesome brother of yours?”
The light left Liam’s eyes as he smiled tightly. “Last I heard, he was in Peru hiking Machu Picchu.”
Dot shook her head ruefully. “He needs to be careful. That’s dangerous business.”
“Ren will get it out of his system soon enough.”
“I used to teach them both piano,” Dot explained for my benefit. “Liam always practised his scales. You were competent enough. ”
“‘Competent enough’, what a compliment,” Liam said, and I held back a smile at his tone.
“But Ren, well, sometimes he wouldn’t turn up. His mum would be so livid with him, and he’d bring me presents to apologise. Sweets or some flowers he’d picked. He was so much trouble but always loveable. Cheeky.” Dot smiled.
“Yep, that’s Ren,” Liam said, an edge to his voice. Did he not get on with his brother?
“How’s your mum?” Dot asked.
Liam took a sharp intake of breath. “She’s good. Still gardening.” A small, sad smile on his handsome face.
“Oh, good. I haven’t seen her in a long while.” Dot looked into the distance, as if trying to remember the last time she saw Liam’s mum. “After I stopped teaching the two boys, we became friends, Lily and I,” Dot explained. “We were thick as thieves. I’ll have to drop by and see her soon.”
“She’d like that.” Liam squeezed Dot’s hands. Liam’s eyebrows were pinched like he was trying to keep himself together. But then, with a deep breath, his face was wiped of emotion. He was back to his usual schooled face.
“Right, can I get you ladies a drink?”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Dot changed her mind quickly. “Maybe a small glass of port.”
Liam laughed. “Okay, a port.”
Liam looked at me. “Guinness?”
“I’ll have a prosecco.” I glanced up at him. “Someone told me that it’s more ‘ladylike’.”
Liam held my gaze, and then his eyes flicked down me. He scanned my body, lighting little fires along my skin.
“No one could say you’re not ladylike enough, Red.” Blood roared under my pale skin at his words. “Guinness?”
I nodded, glancing away. “Thank you.”
As he walked away, I was tempted to fan myself. Had he… had he been flirting with me? It was so hard to tell. He kept his voice so even and his face so schooled. I watched the muscles in his back flex as he reached up for the port on the top shelf behind the bar and poured Dot a generous measure.
I blinked.
Was I attracted to Liam?
I watched Liam prepare our drinks, and I couldn’t deny it. I’d never noticed because he got under my skin so easily.
“I give it a year,” Dot said, shifting my gaze away from Liam.
“A year?”
“Until you’re married.”
I frowned. “Married? Oh, I’m not in a relationship—”
“Our Liam.” Dot nodded at the man pouring our drinks at the bar.
“Oh. We’re not— We’re not together.”
Dot ignored me. “You remind me of Archie and me. We used to bicker too, but we’d always make up eventually.” Dot waggled her eyebrows. “Making up was the best bit.”
I laughed awkwardly. “We’re not—”
“Okay, everyone!” Sandra interrupted with a shout. “Time for a dance!”
Liam brought our drinks back, placing them on the table before offering his hand to Dot in a mock-flamboyant way that made her laugh.
As Liam led Dot to the dance floor, other couples joined them, swaying to “String of Pearls” by Glenn Miller. My heart gave a horrible swoop as Liam gave Dot a twirl, and her smile widened. It was strange how the man I’d argued with in the car park felt like a stranger, a faint memory.
As the song ended and “Moonlight Serenade” began, Dot furiously whispered in Liam’s ear, and his forehead creased. He was shaking his head. Dot muttered more words, animated. Eventually, he nodded and scanned the room. His eyes found mine, and that indecipherable expression was back. He began walking over to me with a determined, unwavering stride.
He stopped in front of me and met my gaze. Heat rose to my cheeks.
“I’ve been told to ask you to dance.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’ve been told?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s not a nice way to ask, is it?”
Liam’s jaw tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you could have just asked me. You didn’t have to specify that an eighty-eight-year-old lady had strong-armed you to ask me. Besides, you don’t seem the type to cower to a demand like that. You seem all”—I gestured to his face—“unmovable.”
“Will you dance with me or not?” Liam said, his voice going low.
I laughed. “Not with that face. Seriously, I’m fine.”
Liam made a frustrated noise. “Red. Just dance with me. It will make a very kind, very sweet lady happy. ”
I glanced behind him to see Sandra and Dot whispering, small smiles on their faces. “We’re being set up.”
“Bingo. She gets it.”
“Stop being a dickhead.”
“Look. She looks frail, but I did all my piano homework for a reason. She can be bloody terrifying when she wants to be. So let’s dance. It’s not a big deal. We can make her happy and forget all about it.”
Liam offered me his hand. It was the first time I’d actually looked at it properly. It was huge and had callouses and scars all over. How would they feel in mine? Warm, maybe.
I glanced behind him again to see the anticipation on the faces behind Liam.
“Don’t step on my feet,” I said as we clasped hands.
His hands were warm and rough, as I expected. As Liam led me onto the dance floor, I suddenly lost the ability to move. Liam frowned, then moved his hands to my waist. I was stuck, sinking into the ground. The realisation of my poor coordination flickered across Liam’s face. Resigned, he drifted his palms across my waist to my lower back. I made a small noise as he pulled me closer to him, leading our movements because I simply could not.
I glanced up at him and found he was staring down at me. From this angle, I realised how much bigger Liam was—and I was not a small woman. I was five foot five—the national average. But I had always been mid-size since I was a teenager. I had wide hips and full arms, which I resented when Kate Moss graced the front of Cosmo . I’d never felt small, even when I wanted to. But Liam towered over me, the heat of his body radiating through my clothes.
Liam’s lips were in the shell of my ear, his voice low. I could feel it vibrate through his chest, which was so, so close to being pressed against mine.
“One minute, thirty seconds more, and we’re done,” Liam murmured.
“I bet you’ve said that before.”
A throaty laugh sounded from Liam, and surprise rolled through me.
“I can’t imagine you playing the piano,” I said out of nowhere.
I felt Liam tense.
“Too common for piano, huh?” A hardened edge to his self-deprecating tone.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I could see you more on drums.”
“Our mum wanted us to learn,” Liam explained as we swayed. “She never got the chance, so I think she wanted to make sure we did. She grew up on a council estate, so once my dad started earning some money, I think she thought piano lessons were what the middle-class kids did.”
I nodded. “That makes sense. I wish I could have done extra stuff. But my mum just signed me up for extra maths and English.” I had meant it to come out like a light joke, but I sounded bitter.
“Did you struggle at school?”
“Understatement.”
“It was bad?”
The curious tone in Liam’s voice opened me up, so I was honest. “I hated school. I hated the exams and the pressure. I was always at the bottom of the class, and my mum—” I stopped, unable to process the disappointment I’d brought to my mother. My shoulders tensed, and then, as if sensing my unease, Liam stroked his thumb across my back. It was simultaneously comforting and maddening.
Now it was my mouth that couldn’t move.
“Distracted, Red?” Liam murmured, that voice smooth like honey. I glanced up to find Liam much closer than I’d expected. His eyes bore into mine, intense and fiery.
“I’m fine,” I squeaked.
Liam hummed. “You were talking about your mum.” His thumb was still there, moving back and forth, driving me to distraction.
“My mum was a teacher,” I managed to get out, “so she was disappointed when I did badly at school. So I worked twice as hard.”
“Sounds like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I think I am getting to. You’re bloody stubborn.”
I raised my chin, meeting his eyes. “I prefer determined.”
“Determined,” he repeated, humour lacing his voice. “What does your mum think about you being up here?”
I huffed. “She… ah. She doesn’t know.”
“She doesn’t approve?”
“No. She doesn’t… she didn’t think I could do it. She knows about all my quirks.”
I could hear Liam’s frown. “Your quirks. ”
“I’m a scatterbrain. Unorganised. Flighty. I get bored easily. I try to keep it together; I use coping mechanisms to keep organised and on top of things, but it’s exhausting keeping the plates spinning. They call it masking. I realised when I got my diagnosis that I’d been doing it all my life. I looked at how everyone else behaved and copied it.”
“Masking,” Liam repeated like it was a new word.
“Yeah, people with autism do it too. The world isn’t built for us, so we mould ourselves to fit.” I huffed. “Sometimes, I think I’ve masked so much that I don’t know my real personality. Is this just one I came up with to hide?” I shrugged. The silence made me feel like I’d overshared, so I laughed and added, “Who knows.”
“It sounds exhausting. Does your mum not understand that?”
I nodded, smiling sadly. “It can be. And no, she doesn’t.”
The music stopped. Liam and I stepped apart, but our eyes were still locked on each other.
“My disability…” I paused. It still felt weird to call it that. “It was partly why I was late to the funeral,” I said, my defences rising. I wanted to explain myself. “Not that it’s an excuse. But I forgot my speech notes, and they’d been printed on this specific paper to help me read. It stops the words wiggling around, and I know that sounds ridiculous. I rushed back to get them, and I was running late—”
“And then I stole your car parking space,” Liam said, his voice low.
“Well, yeah. But it was my own fault. I should have been more organised. ”
“I was late too.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought about that. “Yeah, I suppose you were.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his lips in a flat line. “I was in a rush. Jack had gone into A it was way too deep.
“I’d rather not talk about it if that’s okay,” I said, and Liam searched my face. For a moment, I thought he would push on and ask more of me, but he nodded.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I’ve—got some cleaning up to do.”
He was awkwardly looking for an out of the conversation.
I nodded. “Thanks for the dance.”
Liam’s eyes scanned me again. He nodded and went to turn away.
“I never said thank you for the lock, by the way,” I blurted out.
Liam turned back. “It was nothing.”
“Well, it means I can lock my door, so I appreciate it.”
Liam looked me in the eye, sincere and unguarded.
“It’s important you feel safe here,” Liam murmured, the words making butterflies explode in my stomach. A kaleidoscope of new images of Liam flitted across my mind. Liam fitting a new lock. Liam standing up and agreeing to help me. Liam dancing with Dot and preparing tiny sandwiches.
“I’ll come around tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll be there around ten. Make sure you’re decent this time.”
A choked laugh bubbled out of me.