Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
SOPHIE
It’s early in the evening and the party has started to wind down. I put my dad and Ava’s mom in a cab and wave them off before turning around and walking back into the house.
I’ve kept these shoes on even though they’re really killing me because I don’t want to give Liam the satisfaction of seeing me barefoot again. Luckily, he’s been mostly circulating with the guests. As always he’s the center of the party, charming everybody he meets.
Occasionally our eyes have met and I’ve hastily pulled them away. I don’t want him to think I’m watching him when I’m not.
Walking into the kitchen I find Ava scooting down filling the dishwasher. “Can I help?” I ask her.
She looks up smiling, though there are shadows beneath her eyes. I bet she just wants everybody to leave so she can catch some sleep. “I’ve got this,” she says softly. “You’re a guest, you shouldn’t help clean.”
“I’m your friend,” I remind her. “Of course I should.” I start to round up some dirty glasses that are scattered around the countertops. As I hand them to her, the baby monitor on the kitchen window lights up. And Charlie lets out a low moan.
Ava sighs. She really does look tired. “Do you want me to get him?” I ask her.
“Would you?” She looks like I’ve just offered her one of my kidneys. “He’s in the nursery. There’s some milk I just warmed up for him.” She walks over to the warmer and pulls out a bottle.
I take it from her, the plastic warm against my palm. “I’ve got this,” I say because I want to help as much as I can. And feeding Charlie is one of my favorite things to do.
Since I’m going to the second floor I take my shoes off before hitting the carpeted stairs, then walk along the galleried hallway to Charlie’s room. I can hear him snuffling as I push open the door.
And get the fright of my life, because somebody’s in there already.
Liam Salinger is cradling Charlie against his broad chest. His tie and jacket long since disappeared, leaving him in a white shirt and dark pants.
His shirt sleeves are rolled up, his collar unbuttoned far enough that I can see a hint of hair through the gap, and he’s murmuring softly to Charlie in a way that would make most women weak.
A glance at the monitor tells me he’s turned it off. Presumably to give Ava and Myles a break from listening to Charlie’s cries. I was planning to do the same thing when I got up here.
“Hey hey,” Liam whispers, not seeing me standing here. “It’s okay, bud. I’ve got you.”
Charlie snuffles loudly but it doesn’t sound like a cry anymore.
“We’re gonna give your mama a break, okay?” Liam continues. “She loves you but she’s tired. You think you can get back to sleep for me?”
Charlie blinks, his beautiful blonde lashes sweeping down and then up. He’s fascinated by Liam. Maybe I am a little too right now. Seeing him hold his nephew so tenderly makes my chest ache.
Charlie coos up at him and Liam winks. “That’s it, buddy. I think we have a deal here.” He sways for a minute more before walking Charlie back to his crib. But as he leans over to put him back on the mattress, Charlie lets out a piercing wail.
Liam immediately pulls him back against his chest. “I thought we had a deal?”
I clear my throat. “I think he might be hungry.”
Liam startles, just like Charlie does when he wakes up suddenly. I bite down a smile. “I have some milk,” I say, ignoring the weird tingle pulsing down my spine. “Ava said to feed him.”
Liam holds his hand out for it. For a minute I think about asking to feed Charlie myself, because there’s nothing more satisfying than that. But Liam was here first and I’m all about fairness.
A minute later, Liam is sitting in the rocking chair Ava bought when she furnished the nursery, Charlie cradled in his left arm while he holds the bottle with his right hand. Charlie’s a noisy feeder, smacking his lips and making soft sounds as he drinks it down.
I lean against the door and watch. I’m waiting for Liam to tell me to leave or at least make an annoying comment about why I’m watching him like a creep. But he’s too caught up in Charlie for that.
Before I can look away, Liam lifts his gaze to me.
“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”
I smile because this is something we can agree on. “He is. He’s going to break a million hearts.”
“I never thought Myles would have a kid,” he continues, as though we’re always having conversations like this. “But he sure makes beautiful ones.”
“So does Ava.”
He grins. “Touché.” He blinks and then looks at me. “You think they’ll have any more?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell him. “Ava was worried that it might be too late to have one, let alone more.” That’s really how she and Myles got together. She decided to try for a baby alone because she was worried about her fertility. Then Myles – who she thought hated her – offered to be her donor.
One thing led to another and now they’re a happy family.
“Imagine if he was a girl,” Liam says, his brows knitting. “We’d have to lock her up in a tower to keep all the boys away.”
“Boys like you?” I ask him.
He tips his head to the side. “Yeah, I guess so.” His eyes don’t leave mine. There’s that silence again, except it doesn’t feel quiet. It feels loud.
I go to apologize because that was rude. But he beats me to it.
“About that night,” he says, his voice thick.
My heart hammers against my chest. “You don’t need to say anything,” I whisper. Mostly because I don’t want to talk about it at all.
He opens his mouth to say something else but Charlie gurgles and a torrent of white comes out of his mouth, spraying all over Liam’s shirt and even getting some on his chin. Liam’s eyes widen, and for a moment I’m stuck between horror and abject amusement.
“Oh My God,” I say, laughter bubbling up in my throat. “That’s breast milk.”
Liam splutters. “Christ! There’s some on my lips.”
I have to cover my own mouth because I don’t think I can control myself right now. Seeing his horror at having his sister-in-law’s regurgitated milk on his mouth is too delicious for words.
“Can you take him?” he whispers, standing. The top of his shirt is plastered to his chest. I grab a cloth from the pile on the dresser and put it over my shoulder. I take another, passing it to Liam as I reach down and take a now sobbing Charlie from his arms.
“Shshsh,” I whisper. “It’s okay. There’s more where that came from.”
“I hope not,” Liam says. He dabs his face with the cloth I gave him and throws it into the laundry basket near the door.
I start to clean Charlie up, though luckily he seems to have gotten most of his spit up on Liam.
There’s only a few spots on the bib he’s wearing.
I take it off and use the dry part of it to pat him dry, then coo at him until he starts smiling.
“He’s okay…” But my words trail off as I see Liam pulling his shirt off. He’s not wearing an undershirt, so his bare chest is there in all of its glory.
And when I say glory I’m kind of underestimating it.
Liam Salinger’s chest is a thing of beauty.
Defined but not overly built. A smattering of hair but not so much he looks like he’s hailing from the seventies.
Against my will, my gaze trails down to his stomach, where a thin line of hair leads to the waistband of his pants.
They lay low on his hips, revealing the vee of his pelvis, and I swear the temperature has just risen by twenty degrees.
“Sophie,” he says, his voice low.
“Yes?” I remind myself to breathe.
“He’s just thrown up on you, too.”
Horrified, I look down to see that Liam’s telling the truth. It’s not a blast of spit up like he got, just a little trail but it runs all the way down my left boob. When I glance up again Liam’s eyes are trained on it.
“I’m not taking my dress off,” I tell him.
His lips twitch. “I wasn’t going to suggest you did.” He walks over and grabs yet another cloth from the pile – no wonder Ava has so many of them – and passes it to me. But when I reach for it, Charlie starts to cry again, and I have to stroke his head to soothe him.
So Liam pats the spit up from my chest, his movement surprisingly gentle. He’s so close I can smell his shower gel. Something masculine and musky. I can feel the warmth wafting from his bare chest, too.
My nipple hardens. He stops patting for a moment and mortification washes over me. I bring myself to look at him, but his eyes are trained on my chest.
Specifically my reaction to his touch.
I have no words. None at all. Charlie has quietened, too. It’s just me, him, Liam, and my stupid nipple.
“Stop looking,” I whisper.
“I can’t,” Liam replies, his gaze unwavering.
“Yes you can. It’s just a nipple.”
“To you it’s just a nipple. But I’m a man, West. To me it’s the fucking holy grail.”
“Don’t swear,” I tell him, but I start to laugh anyway because what’s the alternative? And the thing is, Liam Salinger is funny. Like laugh out loud make you all hot kind of funny.
He looks up and he’s grinning, too.
“Can we pretend this didn’t happen?” I ask him.
“Again?” He lifts a brow. “You’re asking me to do a lot of pretending.”
I pull my lip between my teeth. “I know. And I’m grateful for it.”
Charlie feels heavier in my arms, and I realize he’s gone to sleep.
“I’m going to put him in his crib,” I tell Liam. “And then I’ll clean myself up.”
“Good idea.” He watches silently as I carry Charlie over, making sure he’s still clean from spit up. When he’s lying quietly on his back I turn back toward Liam, and he’s still not wearing a shirt. I mean of course he isn’t.
It’s not like he carries a spare one around with him.
He turns the monitor back on as I grab the empty bottle, and go to walk out of the nursery. But before I can go anywhere Liam gently grabs my wrist, stopping my progress.
I look at him, surprised. “What?” I ask quietly, because neither of us want to wake Charlie up.
He opens his lips then shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He lets go of my arm and it immediately feels cool.
I frown. “Yes it does. What is it?” I’m intrigued now.
He reaches out to cup my face, the unexpected move making my breath catch in my throat. Then he leans down so close that for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me.
But instead he runs his thumb over my jaw and presses his lips to my ear.
“I wish I’d made you come that night.”
Then he turns on his heel and walks out of the room, and I watch him, too stunned to reply.
LIAM
I walk back to the party twenty minutes later, having gone back to the bungalow to clean up and put a new shirt on. Ava and Myles are upstairs with Charlie, and I’m pretty sure my uncle duties are done for the night.
“Linc’s been bitching about you,” Eli says, handing me a beer. “What’ve you done to upset him now?”
“Nothing,” I tell my younger brother, taking the beer gratefully.
Eli is the third brother in our family and a typical middle child.
Out of all of us he’s the most talented, too.
As a professional hockey player, he can do things on the ice that most of us can’t do on solid ground. “What time are you leaving?”
“Getting picked up at eight,” he says. He has a meeting tomorrow.
A promotional opportunity that he would be crazy to miss so he’s not staying here tonight.
“So you’re really gonna spend more time here in sleepyville, huh?
” he asks, surveying the land in front of us.
The party has thinned out. People have either moved inside, because the insects in the summer can be hungry little bastards, or they’ve gone home.
“I’m getting attached to the locusts,” I tell him. “Anyway, it’s not so different to Misty Lakes and you always enjoy being there.”
Misty Lakes is our dad’s estate. He has a huge house there, and we’ve each built a cabin around the closest lake. Going there is like stepping back in time. I always feel like the kid I used to be as soon as we drive through the wrought iron gates.
It reminds me of when life was easier. When summers stretched forever. When I didn’t have a whole bunch of people relying on me to pay their wages or fill their investment portfolios.
“Yeah, I like Misty Lakes, but I also like to live a bit,” Eli says, lifting his beer to his mouth. “I thought you did, too. You’re gonna get bored here within a week.”
“I’ll be too busy making money to get bored,” I tell him.
He grins and punches me hard in the arm. “That’s ma boy.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna miss seeing you go all Southern Gentleman while you’re here.”
I lift a brow. “I’m not a gentleman.”
He laughs. “Damn right. So now that you’re going to be spending more time here can I have your little black book?”
I shake my head at him. “I don’t have a black book.”
“Because they always call you.” He lifts a brow. “I swear you got all the luck in the family.”
“No, idiot. It’s because I have a phone to store numbers in.”
“Then just give me your phone, please.”
I know he’s teasing. And at any other time I’d be laughing along with him. I live a charmed life, I know that. I enjoy my job, I have a great family and friends. And I’ve never had a problem getting a woman.
Damn if my gaze doesn’t sweep across the lawn at that thought. Until it lands on the one woman it shouldn’t.
She’s standing on the grass, her dark hair lifting in the breeze, revealing her soft, elegant neck and shoulders, her skin turned amber by the slowly setting sun. Her dress molds over her perfect curves and my dick twitches at the memory of her hard nipple.
If Charlie hadn’t been there. If she didn’t hate me. If I didn’t have my damn rules… all of those scenarios run through my mind.
Because if it hadn’t been for those, I would have run the pad of my thumb over it. I wanted to so badly.
If she was any other person, I’d walk over and charm her right now. And that’s not a play. I want to make her smile. To watch her cheeks flush. To ask her questions and listen to the answers, because each one would help me to understand her.
To understand her needs and wants.
Because this is the thing my brothers don’t get about me. I don’t spend time with women because I want something from them. I spend time with them because I like giving. I like making them happy, I like giving them pleasure.
I like making love with them until they can’t remember their names.
I never leave a woman unpleasured. Multiple times.
Never.
Until…
Christ, I need to stop thinking about this. I have rules for a reason. This way nobody gets hurt. And I wasn’t kidding when I said that a woman like Sophie West reeks of needing commitment.
And you reek of STDs. I start to laugh at the memory of her reply because dammit she’s funny. Then Eli gives me a weird look and I stop.
“Want a game of pool before you have to leave?” I ask him.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Leaving the lawn – and the woman I can’t have – behind, I follow Eli down to Myles’ basement and proceed to smash the hell out of him on the pool table.
And yeah, it makes me feel slightly better.