Dean looked just as shocked when he jumped and spun around. “Whoa. Who the hell are you?”
Liam stepped around Dean and stood at my door, just in front of me. “None of your business, mate, but you can call me Willy.”
Liam turned to me and winked. My face flamed at our inside joke.
Dean did a double take between Liam and me, then his eyes stuck on the Hogues’ houseguest, who was dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. “Do you know this guy, Chels?”
It only took a second for me to figure out that Liam had given me the out that I needed to ensure Dean never came back. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Liam’s waist, trying to ignore just how perfectly we fit.
“Actually, yes.” I looked up at Liam with a syrupy smile. “Willy here is my date tonight.” Even though I turned back toward Dean to speak, I could feel Liam’s stare on me along with his arms gently tightening around me.
“That’s right,” Liam said as he leaned toward me.
Before I knew what was happening, Liam’s lips were on my cheek, and they weren’t quick to pull away. They lingered, giving Dean time to register everything happening. I didn’t know if I ever would.
My cheeks burned, and I was thankful for the dark sky. “Dean, it was—um—nice of you to drop by.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t annoyed Dean had shown up fully expecting me to forgive him and move on with our relationship. Instead, I felt elated to have someone as an ally, no matter that I knew I should stay far away from that same man. Temporarily, Liam’s company didn’t feel like that bad of a thing.
Dean backed away, shaking his head with disgust. “Whatever, Chels. You’re going to regret this.”
Dean was long gone by the time I took my next breath then turned to Liam, who was still fully wrapped in my arms. I pulled away like his touch suddenly burned me. “Thanks for that.”
Liam shrugged. “Figured the guy wasn’t taking your rejection well. Poor bloke. I was on the back porch when I saw him pull up. I wasn’t trying to pry. I promise, but I didn’t know if someone was trying to break in through the back gate.”
I laughed at that and stepped back into the pool house. “Well, I’m glad you’re the new night watch. I guess that means I can enjoy my movie in peace.” I smiled and put my hand on the doorknob. “Have a good night, Liam.”
His brows rose. “Wait, that’s it? I save your life again, and you shut the door on me? I thought we had a date tonight.”
My cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling. “You want to come in and watch a movie with me? It will probably be a chick flick with a lot of cheesy writing. You don’t strike me as a Pretty Woman kind of guy.”
Liam gasped in mock offense. “You’ve got me all wrong, Chelsea Banks. I happen to love Pretty Woman, The Notebook, Sleepless in Seattle. Shall I continue?”
Laughing, I shook my head. “No, please. I get it. You’re a regular romance addict.” I stepped back to make room for him. “I’m about to make dinner and start the movie. Do you like wine?”
His smile widened, practically blinding me with its wattage. “I love the stuff.”
It wasn’t until after I shut the door and he was walking in front of me to the kitchenette that I recalled he was shirtless, his pants hanging so low that one slip would reveal the crack of his ass. I bit my lip to stop the urge to tell him to put a shirt on. The truth was, I didn’t want him to put his shirt on. Maybe by the end of the night he would lose his sweatpants too.
9
Liam
Chelsea poured us each a glass of Merlot and tossed a box of frozen pizza on the counter.
I chuckled and looked at her curiously. “Pizza again?”
She shrugged, not at all ashamed. “That’s what I was planning to have tonight. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it. But just plain cheese? Where are all the toppings?”
“Ah.” Chelsea held up her finger then walked back to the refrigerator.
She pulled out a bunch of ingredients and set them on the counter in front of me. Mozzarella cheese, tomatoes, and fresh basil.
“What’s all this?”
“Pizza toppings. It’s so good. Just wait.”
And I did. I had zero issues with waiting and watching as Chelsea bustled around the kitchen, placing more ingredients on our pizza then sliding it into the oven. Never had someone so small looked so sexy executing such a simple task.
She was an effortless beauty with her red hair spun up in a messy bun, the sun from earlier in the day making her skin glow in the dim lighting. But my feelings were nothing new, and I wasn’t just thinking about how tan her body had looked at the pool earlier in the day. My first impression of the fair-skinned seductress had been how strong and powerful she seemed.
I remembered the way she’d stuck up for herself with that woman at her parents’ tearoom then again in our first encounter when she’d come out to tell me to turn down my music. It had manifested even in the way she’d wanted to refuse my help after getting stabbed by the cactus and now as she confidently set the oven timer and took a swig of her wine.
Chelsea wasn’t just a stunning woman. She was beautifully intriguing and wholly unique. The best part was I knew I’d only just scraped the surface. Her eyes met mine as she brought down her wine glass.
“What?” She ran a finger below her lips. “Did I spill?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Just doing my research.”
She squinted in confusion before widening her eyes and shaking her head with animated movement. “No. Uh-uh. You are not drawing my tattoo. I didn’t agree to that.”
“I am drawing something for you. Whether you use it or not is completely up to you.”
She relaxed slightly and took another sip of wine before setting it on the counter and letting out a light laugh. “No offense. It’s just—”
“Personal,” I finished for her and watched closely as she nodded. “And you don’t want to feel pressured to like whatever I create.”
She nodded again.
“Lucky for you, I don’t get easily offended.”
“So, if I tell you I don’t like your artwork you won’t get offended?” She pointed to my arms. “That would be equivalent to me not liking your tattoos.”
“You haven’t even looked at my tattoos.”
“I’ve seen them plenty, and I’m staring at them now, aren’t I?”
Chelsea was a cheeky one, with a sassy mouth, and I knew just what to do with it. “Come closer.”
Something deep in my gut told me she’d been waiting for the invite ever since the day we’d met and her eyes had tracked them like she would a suspect before the arrest. She was curious, almost bashful. It made me eager to offer her a chance to explore, to make her feel less guilty for wanting to ask. Now, she didn’t have to.
Without hesitation, she stalked forward, moved around the island, and stood before me—mere inches from putting her chest to mine. Then she explored. It started with her eyes, perfect little orbs outlining each design like a critic at an art museum. She was my critic now. With each second that passed, as she studied me and I watched her, I claimed her with every selfish bone in my body.