Chapter 8 #2
Farther up, I come to a sleek black barndominium that can only be described as sexy.
Of course, Liam’s house is sexy. Everything about him is.
But then I spot the rows of wildflowers, a riot of colors against the black exterior of his house.
This right here is Liam in a nutshell. Sleek and sexy, yet vibrant and soft.
At the door, I peek through the large front window and immediately burst out laughing at the sight. A Roomba vacuum zig zags across the floor with Mutt in hot pursuit, barking and snapping at it while loud music plays from farther within the house.
I unlock my phone to shoot a text letting him know I’m here, but one already waits for me on my screen.
My Favorite Person
Door’s unlocked.
Cracking open the door, Mutt pauses his attack, scampering over to greet me, but I’m having an awfully hard time focusing on the dog right now.
From Liam’s open-concept home, I have an unobstructed view of him standing with a hip against the kitchen counter, shirtless.
“Brass Monkey” by the Beastie Boys blasts from a speaker, and Liam is bobbing his head along while he seasons a platter of steaks.
He’s freshly showered, hair wet and curling around the shell of his ear, and those silver chains bounce against the hollow of his throat in time to the song.
The day at the river I was too caught up with nerves to notice much other than the twenty-foot leap.
Now, on the other hand…I’m finding it impossible to tear my gaze away.
Having been around plenty of men who worked out, thanks to Alan and his gym, I thought I’d seen every type of male body there was to see.
But Liam is something else altogether. His muscles aren’t huge bulging things, but what he has going on is doing it for me.
There’s a smattering of freckles sprinkled along the mounds of each shoulder, leading to a dusting of dark hair across his chest. While he’s not looking, I let my gaze roam down to his abs, squares of muscle stacked in three perfect rows.
Hot damn, this man is a masterpiece.
My eyes snag on a tattoo down the right side of his ribcage. Written in some kind of fancy script are the words Love you more.
Huh. Wonder what that’s all about?
He glances up absentmindedly, but when he spots me watching him, his lips curl up and the most devastating smile crinkles his eyes. With a quick tap on his phone screen, the music stops abruptly, and for half a beat neither of us speaks.
Mutt tries again for my attention, breaking my trance.
I kneel to give him pets and love while he plants his single front paw on my knee to stretch and swipe his doggy tongue across my face.
He gets in one good lick before Liam moves in and scoops him up.
I’m hit with the clean scent of Liam’s body wash, or maybe his aftershave.
It’s a mix of woodsy and citrus, and I want to inhale it into my lungs and hold it there.
“Mutt, you can’t go in for a kiss like that, man. You gotta take things slow. What have I told you?”
Liam sets Mutt back down, and I rise, letting my eyes roam the room.
It’s immaculate yet cozy, all dark navy walls and sable leather furniture that looks soft as butter.
A couch and oversized chair face a stone fireplace with an enormous TV mounted above the mantel.
And beside the fireplace are built-in bookcases, upon which dozens of leather-bound books sit side by side.
I squint, trying to make out the titles, but I’m too far away.
Beyond the living room is a kitchen with cabinets the same color as the living room walls, butcher block countertops and gleaming stainless steel appliances.
To my left is a room with the same dark walls, and sitting in its center is the most exquisite baby grand.
Instruments of all types lean on stands against the wall.
A cello, several guitars of various shapes, and at least five ukuleles.
Without asking permission, I’m entering the room, with Liam following behind.
In the corner, sitting on a small table, I see some sort of tabletop accordion and I step over and play a few notes.
Next to it is a credenza with pages upon pages of music, notes scribbled out, bars of half realized melodies.
This feels like a home.
I turn to Liam, my surprise probably written all over my face.
“Your house is gorgeous!”
Liam smirks. “I enjoy being surrounded by gorgeous things.” His gaze performs a slow crawl from my legs back up to my eyes. “And people. Is my house not what you were expecting?”
“Honestly? I figured you lived in a mojo dojo casa house.”
Liam cocks his head. “Mojo what?”
“Never mind, it’s from the Barbie movie. And no, this is not what I expected. I was fully prepared for a party house bachelor pad with neon beer signs and posters of naked girls.”
“Ah” is all Liam says.
A look crosses his features, gone before I can decipher it and all the wind leaves my sails. Did my assumption insult him?
“Um, I brought the beer.” I pivot, holding up the six pack I grabbed on my way. “I hope you like Back Road Honey. The cashier said it’s brewed not too far from here.”
Liam nods, takes the six pack from my hands, and heads back to his kitchen, taking his abs and delicious smell with him, while Mutt and I trail behind. He grabs a bottle opener from a drawer and lifts the top from two beers, handing one to me, tapping the mouth of his bottle to mine.
Excusing himself, he disappears down the hallway, returning seconds later, and to my great and utter disappointment, he’s pulling a T-shirt over his head, muscles shifting from the movement.
I take a long drink from my beer and lift it toward the hallway he just returned from. “Do I get a grand tour or is that reserved for VIP guests?”
A smile pulls up one side of his mouth. “It’s not that exciting.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
He gestures down the hallway. “All right. But don’t expect Versailles.”
Liam pushes the first door open, revealing a full gym. A squat rack, a bench, dumbbells organized by size on a rack. Resistance bands hang from hooks on one wall.
“Well,” I say, leaning across the door frame, “this explains the abs.” I flick my eyes to where a shirt now covers the hard planes of his stomach.
Liam snorts. “It’s mostly stress management.”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum.
We move to the next room, and what I see inside is every unfinished thought Liam has ever had. The four-walled equivalent of a junk drawer.
“Ah,” I say. “The universal I’ll deal with this later room.”
Liam shows me an average bathroom and laundry room but stops in front of the last door. “Sorry, ma’am. My room’s not part of your tour package.”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Wow. Stingy.”
He shrugs, already turning back toward the kitchen. “I can’t help that you went with the lowest package option.”
“Excuse me?” I laugh, hurrying after him. “I didn’t realize there were tiers.”
“Oh yeah,” he says over his shoulder. “Very exclusive upgrades.”
He grabs the tray of raw steaks from the counter and walks to a set of French doors, where beyond, a large black grill sits on a wooden deck.
“How do you take your steak? The grill should be ready now.”
“Medium rare, please.”
I follow him out, moving to the deck railing where an expansive field stretches out behind his house. Beyond that lies a forest, dense and dark against the fading sky.