His Romance Coach (A McKnight Family Romance Book 5)

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His Romance Coach (A McKnight Family Romance Book 5) Page 2

by Lucy McConnell


  I cringed and took in three quick breaths like a prize fighter ready to spring to the middle of the ring. I peeked out from the side, dropping low to be out of their eye level to see …

  Liam McKnight.

  He had his hands pressed on the doorframe and his head dipped down.

  I shouldn’t recognize him with the shaggy hair and leather jacket, but I did. He was my high school obsession. Show me a lineup of pinkie fingers, and I could pick out his.

  I quickly pinched my leg—just to make sure that I hadn’t in fact fallen asleep at my desk and was deep in a subconscious dream where he came to sweep me off my feet for prom. When a searing pain shot up my thigh, I felt confident enough to say that yes, I was awake.

  And Liam was indeed at my door.

  He moved to knock again, but his gaze caught mine. Suddenly, he was staring straight at me crouched low and cowering in a blanket. Nice.

  He pointed to the left and then yelled for me to unlock the door.

  Realizing that I was caught, I nodded and hurried to let him in. As soon as the door opened, he barreled inside like the tornado he’d always been.

  “Geez. Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting outside for, like, ten minutes.” He turned to face me. He had a wild look in his eyes, and I could smell alcohol.

  “Have you been drinking?” I asked as I peered out to the parking lot. “And driving?”

  “What are you looking at?” The nearness of Liam’s voice startled me.

  I pulled back and turned, only to misjudge just how close he was. I found my face inches from his—which, given any other circumstance, would have been romantic, but not tonight. I didn’t want to be some blast-from-the-past booty call or whatever this guy was looking for. “Your car,” I said, forcing myself to ground my mind in the present. Something was up, and I was going to get to the bottom of his sudden appearance.

  “Johnathan drove me,” he said as he stepped back and moved to fiddle with the magazines on the waiting room tables.

  I shut and locked the door. I could only handle one crazy person at a time. “Jonathan?” I asked as I moved over to the coffee pot to pour him a mug. I’d made a pot before midnight—lot of good it had done me, but it was still warm.

  Liam nodded as he plopped down on a chair. Then he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He let out a moan. It was strange to see him act like he was put out or not quite himself. After all, he was the strong, confident homecoming king who’d stood me up on prom night. No biggie. And I wasn’t going to lie: high school me was reveling in the sight of this big, tough guy falling apart in front of me.

  The therapist in me could see that something else was going on. And despite my desire to keep Liam McKnight at arm’s length, I had to ask him what was wrong.

  Stupid doctorate degree.

  With two full mugs of coffee in hand, I headed over to the seat next to him and sat down. “Here you go,” I said in my soft, therapist voice.

  Liam tipped his head forward and squinted his navy blues in my direction. I’d always had a thing for the brooding type. While some girls liked the bright blues, like the ones Liam’s older brother Carter had, I preferred the darker color that drew me in like stormy seas.

  His gaze dropped down to the coffee, and he took it, startling me out of my gawking. “Thanks.”

  I nodded as I took a sip of my own. “To sober you up and keep me awake.” Just as the words left my lips, I yawned.

  That made Liam yawn, and he covered his mouth, but he never took his gaze off of my face. Once he was finished and his coffee had been half drunk, he set the mug down on the table and glanced around. “Do you live here?” he asked.

  Embarrassment coursed through me as I quickly shook my head. If Myrtle, my receptionist, were here, she would say, “Yes, she does.” But Myrtle wasn’t here, so I could lie and get away with it. “I was working late,” I said quickly.

  Liam studied me, and then his gaze dropped down to my blanket and then back up. “Umhmm.”

  “What?” I asked as I pulled the blanket further up onto my shoulders. “I get cold sometimes.” I snuggled into the fabric. “I was cold.” I could see the teasing look in Liam’s gaze, and I knew if I didn’t move him on from this conversation, he wasn’t going to let it go. So I decided to shift his attention elsewhere. “So, why are you here? At my office? In the middle of the night?” I raised my eyebrows to punctuate my question.

  Liam cleared his throat and glanced around. Thankfully, the coffee seemed to be helping. He looked much more grounded. He rubbed his hands on his thighs as he shot me a sheepish look. “I want to buy you for the week.”

  I blinked. Once. Twice. “You what?”

  He grinned like this was the best news he’d ever delivered. “I want to buy you for a week. How much would that cost? And when I say a week, I mean the whole week.”

  I raised my hand, hoping that was all it was going to take to halt the Liam train. From what I could remember, once it left the station, it was hard to get back in the depot. “You want to buy me for a week?” I swallowed as heat began to permeate my cheeks. What did he want with me? And for a week? That was a very specific amount of time. “Why? For what … huh?” I couldn’t settle on a thought, so I just said them all. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, using it as a shield

  Liam took in my physical reaction to his words and laughed and waved his hand. “Oh no, not that. Not as like a date or anything.” He leaned in. “I don’t buy those kinds of girls. They just … come to me.”

  I stared at him. “What kinds of girls?”

  He pinched his lips. “You’re definitely not that kind of girl. I mean, you’re not the kind of girl someone pays to spend time with.” His eyes widened. “Except I guess you are, because people have to pay for your time … but not in a personal way.”

  “This conversation’s headed in a very strange direction.”

  Liam cleared his throat, took a drink of his coffee, and then set it back down. “What I meant to say is, I would like to employ your services.”

  “My services?” I glanced at the glass door to see if my PhD was still listed before my name. He got that I was a psychologist, right?

  He nodded. And then his eyes widened again as he held up his hand. “As a therapist. I would like you to be my therapist for a week. A whole week. Night and day.”

  I stared at him. And then I laughed. I’m not saying that I’m proud of it, but I laughed. Out loud and right in Liam McKnight’s face.

  He jerked back and fidgeted with his jacket zipper. I stood to cross the room, and he followed after me. “I really need your help,” he said.

  I turned to face him, the laugh still going. “Clearly.” I didn’t pause as I moved into my office.

  Liam remained hot on my heels. “I mean it. I’ll pay anything.”

  “You can’t afford me.” I gathered up my pillow and blanket and shoved them back into my closet. There was no need to stay the night and face Myrtle’s I told you so face. I was awake enough now to pack up and head home.

  Just as I moved to pick up my laptop, Liam’s hand appeared above it, effectively halting me from moving it. I tried, but he proved to be more determined than I thought. I glowered up at him only to be met with his stubborn stare.

  “How much?” he asked.

  I narrowed my eyes. Fine. If he needed a number, I was going to give him one so astronomically high that he would never agree to it. Plus, it just so happened that I needed a new furnace and air conditioner unit. “Fifteen thousand.”

  Liam didn’t even blink. “Done.” He grabbed my computer and held it while looking around.

  I stood there, in a daze. Had he just agreed to that amount? “Fifteen thousand dollars,” I said as I rounded my desk. I wasn’t sure where he was going with my computer, but I needed to make sure he understood what I’d said.

  He zeroed in on my bag and slipped my computer into it. He reached for two pens on the desk and tucked them into the smaller pocket o
n the inside flap. Next went the pile of files on the corner of my desk. Was he helping me gather my things?

  “Liam, I said, fifteen thousand dollars.”

  He turned to face me. “I know.”

  “And you’re okay with that number?”

  He scoffed. “Heather, I’m the star player of an NFL team. I have that kind of money.”

  “Star player might be a stretch,” I said, folding my arms.

  He blinked for a moment before an all-too-familiar smile emerged on his lips. I’d seen that smile during a study session; it meant that he’d just figured something out. It was also so darn sexy that it made my knees tremble. “Are you admitting that you’ve watched my games? Drooled over my calves?” He twisted his toe into the ground and slowly began to inch up his pant leg.

  I glared at him. “I watch while I play the drinking game called ‘take a shot whenever Liam drops the ball.’” I grabbed my jacket from the coat tree and pulled it on. “I don’t remember much of the second half.”

  Liam faked that I’d stabbed him in the stomach. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and straightened. “All I heard was ‘I drool over you while I watch you play.’” He brushed each shoulder. “Which I don’t blame you for doing.”

  Wanting to get this conversation over with and Liam back out of my life, I sighed and turned. I’d wondered what working with the McKnight family would do to my life. They were great people, but I had a history with Liam. One I wasn’t excited to relive. Not that we were headed down that path, but still. Once upon a time, I’d trusted him, and he’d let me down. I couldn’t open myself back up to him in any way. But I wouldn’t mind taking a big paycheck.

  If I was going to do this, I needed to know what I was in for. “So what are we doing?”

  His smile emerged again as he clapped his hands together. “As of this moment, you are under my control.”

  I winced at his joke. “And that entails …”

  He shook his head. “First, you will come with me to the couples shower my mom is hosting for Lottie and Jaxson.” He made air quotes around “couples shower.”

  I wrinkled my forehead. I had an invitation to that party somewhere in my desk, filed under not attending. The last McKnight party I’d gone to, I’d been held captive by Mrs. McKnight, who’d been so pleased to have Mason emotionally back in the family that she’d introduced me to everyone. For an introvert like myself, it had been painful. “You said you didn’t want a date, so why would I do that?”

  His expression grew serious, and it was such a stark contrast to how he’d behaved this entire time that I found myself pausing and leaning in. He reached out and rested his hand on my shoulder. “’Cause I need your help. I need it bad.”

  “With what?” I pressed. The man was an expert at dancing around an issue.

  He hesitated and then smiled. “Come tomorrow, er—” He stared down at his watch. “—I mean tonight, and you’ll find out.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “But come anyway, ’cause you’re on the clock. You’ll get the fifteen Gs when you’ve completed your mission.” He walked across the waiting room and to the front door. He unlocked it and pushed his way outside.

  “But what am I supposed to do with you?” I called after him.

  “I’ll text you.” The door swung shut on his words, halting any opportunity for me to get an actual answer.

  Now alone, I collapsed on a nearby chair and buried my face in my hands. Whatever I’d agreed to, it was going to be a big mistake. With Liam, nothing was ever simple. And even though I wanted to say I could end a week with him with my heart still intact, I knew that was a lie.

  Because even now—even after everything he’d done to me—my heart still raced when he was around. And despite my best judgment, I was going to show up at that party tonight.

  I groaned. What was wrong with me?

  Chapter Three

  Heather

  Saturday Night

  Since I was going to the couples’ shower to work and not socialize, I’d worn my work clothes: black slacks and a matching blazer with a pair of black flats. I didn’t think much of it until I saw the white bunting that stretched the length of the McKnights’ long driveway. I glanced down. Maybe black wasn’t the appropriate color to such an event?

  And then I shook my head. This wasn’t an event. This was a work session. It didn’t matter what I wore in the office, and it shouldn’t matter now. My confidence lasted for about 0.2 seconds until I saw partygoers emerge out of their cars like swans on the lake. They looked graceful in their semiformal attire as they glided across the front lawn and into the McKnight’s house.

  The sight made me sweat. I gripped my hands on the steering wheel as I channeled my inner psychologist. What would I tell my patient to do in a crisis?

  Positive affirmations.

  “You are going to be fine. You are going to be fine,” I whispered under my breath.

  Yeah. That didn’t work. I blew out my breath. Oh well, there wasn’t much I could do about it now. I’d opted to arrive ten minutes early in order to get my bearings and find out exactly what Liam wanted me to do when I should have taken that time to freshen up.

  And, okay, maybe the outfit was my way of rebelling against his decree that he’d bought me for the week. He could tell me where to be, but he couldn’t change who I was. And I was a down-to-earth kind of girl with a big brain and frizzy red hair. I shoved said hair off my face and then reached for a hair elastic in the cup holder. I could at least tame the beast and try not to stand out like the nerd at a football game—although I always felt like being that nerd made me more invisible than it did visible.

  With a sigh of resignation—where was my magical wand to create a new me?—I pushed out of my car and headed to the propped-open front door. The foyer was beautiful with dark wood floors and a sweeping staircase. I loved walking into this house—it was like walking into one of the romance novels my sister wrote.

  Beyond the foyer was the living room, and through there I could see the patio doors thrown open to allow guests to mingle by the pool. That was usually where the food tent was set up too. I secretly thought Mrs. McKnight harbored a fear for her carpet and that was why she always chose to serve outside. There weren’t any chairs set up in the house, which encouraged guests to mingle here but not linger with a plate.

  “Heather!” Lottie bustled in, holding a tray of food. She looked amazing with her blond hair hanging in barrel curls and her heart-shaped face barely touched with makeup. I mean, this girl was beautiful. No wonder she’d caught Jaxson’s attention—she was the whole package. A nice person with a winning smile. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  I returned her hug. My superstar therapist status extended to all the female members of the family—and the female soon-to-be members. I didn’t deserve the credit. Mason really did most of the work on his own. Sadie was a huge motivator for him; she loved the big lug all along the way. “It’s good to be here. Congratulations on the upcoming wedding,” I said as she handed the tray off to a waiter who was wearing a white shirt and black slacks.

  “Thanks. It’s not far off now.” Her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink.

  Now why, when God was handing out blushes, couldn’t He have given me that one? Instead of demurely turning pink, I got all splotchy and red, which clashed with my brown freckles for an unappealing color wheel. Desperate not to appear like the dork I feared I was, I racked my brain for something else to say so I didn’t look like a floundering idiot. “And you’ll be an aunt again soon—that’s exciting.”

  She laughed. “You have all the dirt on my family.”

  I smiled. “I can neither confirm nor deny where I heard the news.” We both knew Mason had told me—although it had been in the waiting area at the end of one of his sessions with several other people in the room, so I didn’t feel like I’d violated any client/patient confidentiality agreements by bringing it up here.

  “Liam said you were coming, but—” She stepped back an
d looked me up and down. “You’re not dressed.”

  “Actually, I’m here as his therapist.” I tucked a stray curl behind my ear as my skin heated from her stare. Here comes the blotchy complexion.

  Lottie clicked her tongue. “That’s … interesting. This—” She swirled her hand in front of me. “—just won’t do. Come on.” She took my hand and pulled me toward the staircase.

  “Where are we going?”

  “For starters, Jaxson told me all about Liam’s plan, and it’s not going to work if you look like a therapist.”

  He’d told her what was going on? Well, that was new. He hadn’t yet spilled the beans completely with me. Maybe if I got Lottie alone, she’d let me in on the secret.

  We got to the top of the stairs, and she pulled me into a bedroom. The dresser was littered with makeup products, and there was a flat iron plugged into the wall. “Jax,” she called through the open bathroom to the bedroom on the other side.

  Jaxson wandered through a minute later, looking killer in a gray suit and a light-blue tie. He smiled at Lottie. “What’s up?”

  She waved at me. “Don’t you think she needs to blend in a little better?”

  Jaxson’s eyes ran over my outfit—fast, like he didn’t want to have to weigh in on this but there was no way he was getting out of it. “I guess.” He winced. “No offense, but you look like a politician.”

  I laughed, partly because of his obvious discomfort, and partly because of his description of my clothes. They were meant to be neutral. But I could see his point. “Thanks.” I managed to keep all sarcasm out of my voice there, so that was pretty sweet. “I can run home and change.” And then I’d be an hour late, which wouldn’t go over well with my new “boss.” Heaven help me if Liam was ever my actual boss—I think I’d poke my eyes out with a stick.

  Lottie jumped in front of the door and held out her hands. “No way. I have the perfect dress for you.”

 

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