Chapter 11
GARRETT
“Do you guys need a hand with them?” Liam gestured at Temo’s three kids, who were racked out on the living room couch.
“You don’t mind?” Ximena asked. “They’re getting too big to carry two at a time.”
“No problem.” Liam gently picked up one of the kids and eased her onto his hip. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she didn’t stir even a little bit.
Temo bent and carefully scooped up one of his sleeping sons. “Should’ve taken them home and put them to bed hours ago.”
“That’s what happens when we go to Uncle Saints’ house.” Ximena tsked, but she was smiling as she picked up the last child. “The kids stay up way too late, and so do we.”
“So it’s Saints’ fault.” Temo nodded sharply. “Works for me.”
Liam just rolled his eyes, told me he’d be back in a minute, and stepped out with Temo and Ximena.
While he was gone, I looked around, and I realized several of the other guys and their families had left.
In fact… everyone had left. Liam and I had wandered into the kitchen at some point, and we’d been so lost in a conversation about hockey and whatever, I hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed.
Shit, what time was it?
He was just coming back into the house when I checked my phone and did a double take. “Oh. Crap. It’s almost ten?” I looked at Liam. “God, I didn’t mean to overstay my—”
“No, no, you’re fine.” His smile made my pulse jump. “It was, uh… It was nice.”
I studied him uncertainly.
He put his glass aside. “I love hosting holidays, but it’s almost all families and young single guys.” Gesturing at me, he softly added, “It’s a nice switch.”
“Technically, I am one of the single guys. Maybe not one of the young ones, but…”
Something gleamed in his eyes, but I might’ve been imagining it. Manifesting it, really, because oh, hell, I wanted to see that heat. That acknowledgment that, yes, we were both single guys, and we were here alone, and—
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, as long as I’m here, do you need a hand cleaning anything up? I just need to put in a request for a rideshare, and then I’m happy to help with anything you need.”
“Rideshare? Pfft. They’ll rip you off getting from here to Pittsburgh. Especially on a holiday.” He gestured dismissively. “I’ll drive you home.”
I almost stumbled. “You—you will?”
“Sure.” He gestured dismissively at the handful of dishes on his counter and in his sink. “I’ll take care of all this when I get back. Where do you live?”
“Uh. Near downtown. In the South Hills.” I didn’t want to impose, but what could I say? Another half hour in his company was too much to resist.
“Okay, no problem.” He nodded toward a door leading from the kitchen to, I guessed, his garage. “I’m happy to drive.”
“Oh. Uh. Sure. Yeah, that’d be great. Are you sure you don’t need help with—”
“I’ve got it. Don’t worry.” His smile screwed with my balance yet again. “Let me go get my wallet, and we can head out?”
“Sure, take your time.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’m going to check on Jasmine.”
“Oh, good idea. Let me know how she’s doing.”
As he went upstairs, I texted Chris.
How is Jasmine?
She’s better. The nausea was just getting to her today. (sad face)
That sucks. (sad face)
All the books say the morning sickness is supposed to stop after the first trimester. LIES.
LOL They also say it’s supposed to be “morning” sickness. Not “all goddamned day and night” sickness.
Ugh. Yeah. It’s been brutal for her. It’s better now than in her first trimester, doesn’t happen as often or as bad, but still sucks.
Yuck. Poor girl.
Also, you should call your mother and apologize for what YOU put HER through.
I did this to her?
Ask her to tell you about when she went to a Halloween party as a nurse and turned into something from The Exorcist. You’re lucky you weren’t born grounded.
OMG. I need to get her a bigger Christmas gift.
YES YOU DO
(saluting emoji)
Good plan.
Anyway, hope Jasmine feels better.
Me too. How was the party?
I wasn’t so sure about letting on that I was still here, so I didn’t mention that the party had only just ended. Or rather, that it had probably ended ages ago but I was still here.
It was great. Watching football with hockey players is fun!
LOL I know right? Glad you had a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Sounds good. Hope you two have a better evening.
As I was lowering my phone, Liam came back in.
“How’s Jasmine?” he asked.
“Good, good.” I gestured with my phone. “Chris said she’s just feeling a bit green.”
Liam’s brow pinched. “But she’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah. In fact I told Chris he needs to ping his mother and apologize, because he put her through the same crap.”
At that, Liam relaxed. “Man, I don’t know how anyone does that.”
“What? Get through a pregnancy?”
“Yes. I’d last about three seconds before I’d just be on the floor sobbing.”
I cocked a brow. “Says the guy who routinely gets hit with pucks and flying bodies?”
“Yeah, but that’s just like bruises and stitches and shit. Having my whole system hijacked by a kid who’s going to basically remodel it from the inside out? No, thank you.”
I barked a laugh. “God, when you put it like that…”
He chuckled. “Hey, anyone who can carry and deliver a kid has my respect. I’ll stick with potentially stopping pucks with my teeth.”
Shuddering, I said, “I’ll pass on both, now that you mention it.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “Not everyone can be a tough guy.”
I pursed my lips. “I kind of want to be insulted, but honestly, I’m a hundred percent fine with not being tough enough to be pregnant or take a puck to the teeth.”
“Fair enough. You want tough as nails, though?” He whistled. “I have some friends who play in the Women’s League and they have kids. They do both.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.”
“Right? Weaker sex, my ass.”
“Seriously. Anyway, uh, I guess we should get going? I shouldn’t keep you up later than I already have.”
Did he have to lick his lips just then? Did he really? Did he have any idea what that did to my remaining brain cells?
Evidently not, because he led me out of the kitchen and into the garage. The cold air slapped me in the face and snapped me out of my thoughts, which kept me from falling on my ass or…
Look, I was going to check out his jean-clad ass and that was all there was to it. But at least I didn’t get caught staring.
His enormous house had a four-car garage, and two of the bays were currently occupied.
In one, there was a black Mercedes SUV. In the other, a sleek bright orange sports car that I couldn’t identify.
I could pick out Porsches, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis at a glance, but the smooth curves and low profile on this one didn’t ring a bell.
It was definitely more in line with what I’d expected to see in his driveway, earlier.
I stared at the cars, then turned to Liam, who was fighting a grin.
Gesturing at them, he asked, “Any preference?”
“Uh.” I blinked. “They’re your cars.”
He shrugged. “I’d say let’s take that one”—he nodded at the sports car—“but I think the weather has gone to shit.”
I glanced out the window, and sure enough, at some point while we’d all been inside, the sky had opened up. Rain ran in sheets down the glass and, now that I listened for it, pounded on the roof above our heads. “It has definitely gone to shit.”
“Yep. So…” He gestured at the Mercedes.
“Fine by me.” As we got in, I asked, “What make is that, anyway? The sports car?”
“It’s a McLaren 750s.” The pride in his voice was kind of adorable.
I whistled. “It’s sexy as hell.”
“Thanks.” He smiled, which was also seriously cute. “Maybe when the weather’s better, I can take you out in it.”
I froze, wondering which part of that I liked better—going for a ride in the McLaren, or Liam taking me out. In anything. At all. Especially in a car with only two seats.
Fortunately, I recovered and found my dignity. As I pulled on my seat belt, I tried to sound casual. “That sounds like a blast. I’ve never been in one.”
He shifted into Reverse as the garage door rumbled open behind us. “You into cars?”
“I mean, I don’t know much about them. But I definitely do appreciate a nice car. Like…” I pointed at the McLaren.
Liam chuckled, backing out of the garage. “Me too. I couldn’t tell you anything about how they work or which engine is superior. I just knew I wanted to get something badass and sporty.” He paused to turn around in his driveway. “And of course something reliable for when the weather gets nasty.”
“Makes sense.” We were quiet as he drove down his long driveway and pulled onto the road. As he continued through the hills, I asked, “So what about the other two bays in your garage?” I watched him in the darkness. “Any plans to fill them with something?”
His expression turned oddly thoughtful. And maybe… melancholy? “Not… not all of them.”
I was intensely curious about why that was, but I didn’t want to pry.
Turned out, I didn’t need to.
Liam adjusted his grasp on the wheel, gaze fixed on the dark, winding road in front of us as the wipers swiped a steady rhythm through sheets of rainfall. “I had a Porsche until two years ago. I still can’t believe we managed to keep the press from finding out, but it was totaled.”
“Oh, shit. What happ—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” He waved a hand, then rested it on his leg.
“It was a teenager who’d just gotten his license.
He was out with his girlfriend, trying to show off, and the roads out here in Sewickley Heights are…
well…” He gestured ahead of us at the same time he took a sharp hairpin.
“Kind of irresistible for a kid who wants to show off?”
“I can see that. So… he overshot a curve and hit you?”
Liam nodded. “It was relatively low speed, fortunately, and it was during the off season, so it didn’t keep me off the ice. But it was still fast enough to wreck the car.”
“Holy shit. Was everyone okay? You said it didn’t keep you off the ice, but…”