Chapter 8 Bailey #2
Pressing a chaste kiss to my lips, he headed back to where we came. “Dinner first. I can’t have you passing out on me from hunger. I hope you like steak.”
“You know I do!” I called out.
Shaking my head, I quickly undressed and tossed everything in the wash. Splashes of dirt coated my shorts, so there was no point in just running them in the dryer. But when I finished, I realized I hadn’t brought my bags with me.
After a cursory glance, I found a button-down flannel shirt hanging up, along with a basket of thick socks. They looked clean enough, even if they were men’s socks.
After tugging everything on, the chill that had started to settle in my bones reduced significantly.
When I stepped into the kitchen, Liam glanced up, his knife pausing from where he was cutting vegetables on the counter.
“I borrowed some of your things.”
His gaze traveled over my bare thighs to the socks I had pulled up practically to my knees. “Sexy,” he rumbled, his voice filled with a hint of laughter.
“I thought so. Do you need any help?”
“Nope.”
“So, I’m just supposed to keep you company while you slave away in the kitchen?”
He jabbed the knife in the direction of the couch. “There’s a paper over there.”
“You still get those things? I thought everyone got their information digitally now.”
“I happen to like newspapers.”
Scanning the rest of the room, my eyes lingered over the large fireplace, noting the lack of anything decorative. There wasn’t a single picture or even a gun strapped to the wall.
I strolled around the couch, plopping down and testing out the comfiness, groaning as I sank into the plush fabric. “Oh, man. This was a bad idea.”
“What was?”
“Sitting on this couch. It’s like it was made for me.”
“Maybe I had you in mind when I picked it out,” he teased.
“I could live in this thing. Who needs a bed?”
His soft chuckle was barely audible from the kitchen, but it brought a smile to my face all the same. It wasn’t often that Liam smiled, so I was glad I could bring out the humor in him.
“Wait, where’s your TV?”
“Don’t have one.”
I sat up suddenly, spinning in my seat, my mouth gaping in confusion and horror. “You don’t have a TV? What kind of psycho are you?”
Again, he paused cutting for a moment to stare at me. “Your psycho.”
Well, that was perfectly sweet.
“How can you possibly function without a TV?”
“Easy,” he shrugged, carrying his cut-up vegetables over to a metal pan, arranging them in a single layer. “I work a lot.”
“You don’t work as much as you used to,” I pointed out.
“And how do you know that?”
“You forget what town we live in. You can’t sneeze without everyone in town knowing why it happened.”
Getting up, I walked over just as he was drizzling olive oil on the vegetables. Curious, I waited to see what else he would add. When that seemed to be all he was going to do, I cleared my throat.
“What else are you adding?”
Again, a small smile touched the corner of his mouth. “What else would you like me to add?”
“Me? Oh, I’m not picky.”
“I’m sure. So, if you were making this, what would you add?”
“I would eat it exactly as you made it,” I grinned, batting my eyelashes at me.
“Uh-huh.”
“With a lot of butter pats. You can never go wrong with butter.”
Chuckling, he snatched a stick of butter out of the fridge. “Butter it is.”
“And a dash of thyme or rosemary wouldn’t hurt,” I smiled sweetly. “If I was making it,” I added quickly.
“Don’t you have a crossword puzzle or something to do?”
Snatching a single carrot off the tray, I took a bite and spun to get the paper off the table. “Maybe.”
After demolishing my carrot, I sauntered back over to the counter and plopped down on one of the stools across from him. “Now, let’s see what’s going on in this sleepy town of ours. Hmm, the mayor is considering running for re-election. There’s a surprise.”
“You don’t like Mayor Cameron?”
“Just the opposite,” I said, flipping the page. “Personally, I think we need more women running this town. Maybe we’d actually get something done,” I grinned.
“Oh, I can’t deny that’s true.”
“Too much testosterone being thrown around those town meetings,” I added.
“Ever thought of joining the town council?”
“Me?” I snorted in amusement. “When would I ever find the time?”
I flipped another page as Liam slid the pan into the oven. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he started preparing the steaks, using techniques I had never seen before.
It was fascinating.
Then again, I was pretty sure Liam could put on shoes and I would find that fascinating.
When he spun around, he caught me staring at his ass, which wasn’t a crime. He looked fantastic in his Wranglers. I was pretty sure even Mrs. Abernathy would stare at his ass if it was close enough for her to see.
“See something interesting?” he teased.
“Yes.” I maintained eye contact as I laid the paper on the counter and pointed to the article. “There’s a new olive oil and wine shop opening in town.”
Laughing, he grabbed another carrot out of the bag and tossed it at my face, which I promptly caught and took a bite of, chuckling in amusement.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so much.”
Leaning against the counter, his strong forearms taunted me, promising a night of adventure. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than the sexy specimen in front of me, aside from the low rumble of his voice.
“What’s wrong, Bailey? Having trouble concentrating?”
I finally tore my eyes away from the thick veins running over his hands, up his muscular arms, to meet his chocolate orbs. Sighing, I knew I looked like an idiot, fawning all over this man, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Not when he looked so damn good.
A low growl emanated from his throat just before he leaned closer and brushed his lips over mine.
“Better watch it, Bailey, or we won’t make it to dinner.”