Chapter 7
LIAM
O ur first week in Florida raced by in an absolute blur. We spent our days—and most nights—decorating the office, shopping for furniture, equipment, and supplies, and getting it ready to start working.
Headbutting, laughing, and late-night Taco Bell runs became our new normal, but the night before the big hiring convention started, I looked around our brand new workspace, and honestly, I couldn’t believe we’d actually done it.
There were desks in all the offices and in the bullpen.
Brand new computers sat on top of them and we’d had them all connected to our new network.
The walls were painted in the colors I’d chosen, but I’d left the actual decorative touches to London. She’d chosen natural wood for open shelving, macrame wall-hangings, loads of potted plants, and a bit of gold here and there.
“This is the last one.” She handed over a wall art piece she’d found at a local market just this morning. “Can you believe that we’re actually going to be ready to start hiring tomorrow?”
“No, not really.” I chuckled and shook my head, taking the piece from her and perching it on the nail I’d already hammered into the wall. “There we go. All done. What do you think?”
I swiped my hands together to clap off the excess dust, then turned to survey the space once more. London stood beside me, dressed in all black workout gear with her hair in a tousled, loose ponytail after the day and her makeup almost all worn off, but to me, she was as gorgeous as ever.
“You know it kills me to admit this. I literally feel like I’m going to pass out just saying it, but you were right. The green walls fit nicely.”
I tossed my hands into the air and cheered, a surge of adrenaline shooting through me at her admission. “Yes! I knew you were going to end up loving it. Let’s get out of here, shall we? I need a drink and a bed. Not necessarily in that order. I might just drink in bed.”
She laughed. “Sounds like a plan. Your bed or mine?”
Instantly, all that energy went racing to my dick and I bit back a groan. “How about the couch?”
“Fair enough.” She grinned and made her way to her new office to collect her things. I took the time to force the sudden rush of heat in my blood to cool. Then I grabbed my stuff and followed her to the parking garage.
We climbed into my truck, both of us moving a little slower than usual, and London let out a soft moan once she was buckled in. Her head fell back against the seat and her eyelids fluttered closed. “Man, I’m beat. I might just have a glass of wine in my tub and then go to sleep.”
Between the sound she’d just made and the mental image of her naked and glistening with bubbles, lust was coursing through me all over again. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re going to have an early morning anyhow. It’s best we don’t overindulge tonight.”
Although we went our separate ways once we got home, I was painfully aware of every sound coming from her bedroom until I fell asleep.
Living with her had proven to be exactly as much of a challenge as I’d thought it would be during those first couple days.
Her constant presence and the faintly strawberry scent of her lingering even when she wasn’t physically present hadn’t done my libido any favors either.
The next morning, we were up at the crack of dawn, rushing around the house to get ready for the convention.
As representatives of Walker and Co, we had to dress super nice—especially if we had any hope of having our pick of the litter when it came to potential candidates for the jobs we were offering.
“Liam! Did you take my toothpaste?” London yelled while I was hunting down my shoes. “I can’t find it anywhere.”
I looked up and spotted the tube I’d borrowed on my bathroom vanity. “Incoming!”
Straightening up, I grabbed it and raced to my door, then chucked it in the direction of hers. It smacked into her bedroom door and ricocheted into the room itself, and I heard her yelp. “Thanks a lot! That hit my ankle.”
“You’re welcome!” I chuckled and went back to my shoe hunt, finally finding my dress shoes under a pile of clothing I’d discarded on the floor over the last week. I didn’t usually live so messily, but we’d been crazy busy and neatness just hadn’t made it onto my list of priorities.
“We need to get our laundry done!” I yelled as I pulled on my shoes. “Want to drop it off on our way to the convention center?”
“Yeah, let’s do that. You can come pick up my bag on your way out.”
“Gee, thanks!”
Head shaking, I tracked down the laundry bag I’d brought along and stuffed all my things into it, grabbing a tie on my way out of my room. In my rush to London’s, I kind of started tying the knot, but I also still had to go back for my jacket.
“You’re a mess.” She looked up at me when I walked into the room, her oceanic eyes lined with dark coal that made them look even brighter. “Take a breath. Let me help you with that.”
Rising from her bed after securing the final buckle on her sky high heels, she strode over to me and immediately zeroed in on the tie.
Her expensive, sultry scent enveloped me, yet the strawberry undertones of the shampoo she’d used since we were kids was also there, oddly comforting and reminding me that the fierce, seriously hot businesswoman currently fiddling with my tie was the same London Walker I’d always known.
With her golden hair twisted up into an elaborate style and her makeup a lot heavier than usual, it was easy to look at her and only see the boss lady she’d become. An intimidating, stunning woman only the bravest men would dare to approach.
But that scent of hers? Man, I love knowing it’s her tiny way of rebelling against adulthood.
It never ceased to ground me in the present and remind me of who she was on the inside.
A girl who still uses her childhood shampoo underneath all the other, fancy products as a little screw you to societal expectations.
I breathed it in, smiling at her when she looked up after she was done with my tie. “Thanks, Walker.”
“You’re welcome.” Her gaze snagged on mine, but before it could become a moment, she patted my chest and let her hands fall back to her sides. She took a big step away, spun around, and strode to her dresser. “I just need to put on my jewelry, then we can leave. Laundry is in the bathroom.”
“I love how you think your laundry is my responsibility simply because I’m the one who realized we haven’t done any washing in a week.”
Standing in front of her dressing table, she glanced at me in the mirror and slid a golden earring into her lobe. It was so casual and yet so incredibly sexy that something stirred deep inside me.
“I brought enough clothes not to have to do laundry for a month,” she said. “Besides, helping a girl carry her bags is only gentlemanly.”
“Not when the bag in question is as big as the gentleman and full of dirty laundry.”
A slow smile spread on her lips. “A real man isn’t intimidated by a bit of dirty laundry.”
I sent a pointed look at the bag in question. “That’s not only a bit, but I’ll take it to the truck for you. Just this once.”
She winked at me in the reflection, turning when she was done with her jewelry and casting a slow, assessing gaze over the length of my body. “You clean up well, but where’s your jacket?”
“On my bed. I’ll grab it in a minute.”
“How about you take our laundry and I’ll bring your jacket? We need to get going. We still have to set up our booth and we’ll need all the time we can get for that.”
I nodded. The event only started at midday, but the booth we’d selected was massive and we’d need every second to make it look as impressive as we could.
When we finally arrived at the convention center, I realized that the place was huge and the event itself was going to be larger than I’d imagined.
One never knew with these kinds of things, but they were obviously readying themselves for thousands of feet to come through this place over the next few days. I could understand why so many people would want to find jobs in Miami, though.
I hadn’t had much time to explore yet, but I already loved the city and I could totally see why people would want to move and work here. The sound of the ocean followed you around and there was a laid-back feeling to the place that I enjoyed more than I’d expected.
London and I made our way past the bustling organizers who were setting up dozens of registration tables. Printed name cards were being laid out and welcome packs were lined up on tables near the entrances. We checked in with one of the volunteers, who led us to the space we’d reserved.
It was right as people would be coming in through the main doors, an entire corner of the convention floor that had been reserved for us.
The name Walker and Co was emblazoned on the wall behind the island in the center of our booth, and there were already banners, flags, and decorations waiting for us in boxes next to the island.
“God, I wish they’d have let us do this yesterday,” London murmured as she shrugged out of her jacket and kicked off her shoes. “Let’s get to work, dude. I’m really starting to doubt that we’re going to be ready on time no matter what we do, but we probably need to at least try.”
“You got it.” We got going immediately, working as fast and as focused as we could, starting with the banners and the flags and making our way in toward the island.
As we were setting up, I noticed a guy around our age constantly glancing at London from the booth beside ours. He was hanging bunting and tying strings around balloons, but he could hardly take his eyes off her.
“First lesson,” I whispered as I went to join her. “You have a guy checking you out. Look at him over your shoulder, smirk, and then come back to what you’re doing.”
She didn’t even glance at me, let alone the guy in the next booth. “Oh, lord, this is so not the time. I’m working.”
“You’re always working. If you don’t get back in the game, you’ll die alone.”
“Wow, that was dark.” She finally looked up to arch an eyebrow at me. “Thanks for that.”
“Truth hurts, princess.”
She sighed but did what I’d said. Unsurprisingly, it worked like a charm. The guy barely hesitated before he came over and started talking to her. Pride shot through me, until I saw her laugh at something he’d said.
A little twinge of jealousy followed, and I suddenly wondered if I should’ve offered to help her at all. The tips I’d give would work. Always. I just didn’t really know if I wanted them to.