His Romance Coach (A McKnight Family Romance Book 5)

by Lucy McConnell

  I paused, thinking hard. “Brown.”

  “Wrong. They were blue.” She dropped her hand. “You were so busy looking at her as a package that you didn’t bother to see her as an individual. Tell me, Liam, how did you identify her in your head?”

  I gulped, not wanting to incriminate myself with the answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t become you.”

  She used to say the same thing when we were studying. Little did she know I wasn’t playing dumb; I was dumb—at least when held up to McKnight standards of intelligence. I had a doctor for a brother, after all. I rolled my eyes. “I called her the brunette.”

  “Exactly.” She pounced on my answer. “She wasn’t a person; she was a type based on hair color. I’m guessing you categorize women as blondes and brunettes all the time.”

  Her pronouncement sat as comfortably as a cactus on my bare chest. I crowded into her space, seeing her cheeks splotch with red. It was the realest blush I’d ever seen, and it told me that my nearness affected her in some way. “Ask me if I’ve ever used the term redhead.”

  Her eyes widened, allowing me to lose myself in the pale blue color. “What?” she asked as she flicked her hair. Oooh, this was interesting. My hold on her only lasted a moment before she cleared her throat and glanced around.

  Satisfied that for a moment I held the higher ground here, I shrugged and backed up a step. I was quite pleased that I’d gotten through her thick, brainy wall. She wasn’t completely Fort Knox to my charms. “I prefer the term ginger,” I said with a wink.

  She shifted to the side and smacked my stomach with the back of her hand.

  I wasn’t ready for it and grabbed my belly, briefly brushing her fingers with my own. “You’re a professional—you can’t touch your clients.”

  She laughed. “As if you know what rules I’m supposed to follow.”

  I couldn’t let her challenge stand without an answer, so I brushed against her arm. “I bet I could get you to break every one,” I said, allowing my voice to drop to a husky level. The tone I used when I was picking up a girl.

  She sucked in a breath and lingered for a moment before she stepped to the side, putting space between us. “Easy there. Keep your focus on the end zone, McKnight. We’re here to expand your dating horizons.”

  “I like the sound of that.” I cracked my neck in a bring-it-on way.

  She laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

  The glint in her eye made me nervous, and for a brief moment, I felt both excited and worried. Excited because I suspected that this was going to be fun. Worried because the more I got to know Heather, the more I began to realize that I barely knew her at all. And for the first time in a long time, I wanted to learn more.

  What had I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Five

  Heather

  I was an idiot.

  I was a complete and certifiable idiot.

  And I knew I was an idiot because I was currently standing in front of Liam, trying to act as if his touch—his mere presence—wasn’t sending shivers up my spine and causing goose bumps to emerge all over my skin.

  His flirty gaze had emerged, and this time, I was the unwitting prey to his charms. I needed to get out of here before I lost my edge and turned into just another bimbo desperate for a piece of Liam McKnight.

  Not wanting him to feel as if he’d won—who knew I was the competitive sort?— I flicked my hair over my shoulder and turned. “I think we’re done for the night,” I said over my shoulder as I walked away.

  I tipped my head slightly to the side to see if he was following me. If the band wasn’t playing so dang loud, I might have been able to pick up on the sound of his footsteps on the pavement behind me. But no such luck. This party was just too dang loud.

  So I glanced back at him, and my entire body warmed, because he was right behind me with a concerned look on his face. Did he not want me to leave?

  This was a strange situation I found myself in. After all, I could barely get him to look at me in high school, much less pick me up for the prom to which I’d won the raffle that guaranteed me a date with the great Liam McKnight. Now, he trailed after me like my puppy.

  Well, technically, he was my boss because he held the checkbook, but that was a technicality I wasn’t going to focus on right now.

  “Wait.” His hand wrapped around my elbow, halting my retreat.

  I forced the best therapist smile I could as I turned around. “Yes?”

  His eyebrows knitted together as if he hadn’t expected a polite response. “What’s the game plan?”

  “Game plan?”

  “Yeah. Am I a lost cause?”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “So it bothers you when someone makes a statement and then just walks away?” I blinked innocently at him, waiting for him to connect the dots.

  He pulled back slightly as he studied me. “Yeah. It does.”

  “Ah.”

  A silence fell between us. I was comfortable in silence. It was in that space that clients worked through things—and I was happy to wait for him to do the work. Even if it took all night. Which it could, considering how little self-awareness Liam had. Self-assuredness he had in spades, but self-awareness? Not so much.

  The moment things came together for him was beautiful. His eyes lit up in a way that was both subtle and brilliant. I wished he could see how attractive thinking looked on him.

  He laughed as he pushed his hands through his hair. “Last night. You mean last night,” he said as he pointed his finger at me. “Last night I wasn’t myself.”

  I folded my arms and clicked my tongue. “Actually, I think you were very much Liam McKnight last night.”

  He stared at me, tilting his head to the side. This time I was going to have to connect the dots for him.

  “Liam, as your therapist, we need to take a hard look at your dating tendencies and how you steamroll.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Steamroll?”

  I nodded. “It’s not a football move. It’s a term we use for when a person makes decisions without considering the feelings of another.” I motioned toward my body. “Me leaving you in the lurch about what we are going to do.” I made a circular motion with my hands. “Steamrolling.”

  Liam furrowed his brow but then nodded. “Okay. I understand what it means.” He blew out his breath and looked around. “But what does that have to do with girls and dating?”

  I scoffed. This was going to take more work than I’d thought. “First, we are going to change who you are dating.”

  He crossed an arm in front of his chest and used his hand to prop up his elbow. Then he rested his chin in his free hand. “But I’m not dating anyone. You ran off my one potential option.”

  I waved a hand as if brushing the woman out of the conversation. “Forget the brunette. She’s gone. What we are going to do is open doors to new possibilities when it comes to the women you choose.”

  “Open doors?” Then he shook his head. “You lost me.”

  I sighed. “You’re going to figure out how to talk to a woman without mentioning who you are, your football status, or her body.” I narrowed my eyes, expecting the pushback that I knew was coming.

  “Wait, what? I can’t mention that I’m a football star?” He emphasized the last word while bringing his thumb and forefinger together to make an okay symbol. “That’s not fair.”

  I reached out and patted his shoulder. As soon as my hand met his muscles, I regretted my choice. But not wanting to seem like a dork and pull my hand away, I kept it there for the appropriate amount of time and then pulled back. “You’ll have to discover what it’s like for us mere mortals in the dating world.” I gave him a sympathetic smile.

  To which his smile turned wicked. “Are you saying I’m a god?”

  My entire body heated from his words. “Wh—what?” I stammered. When had I said that?

  He chuckled as I worked to come up with a response. My clients didn�
��t dabble in verbal play like Liam—it threw me off. “While I like the fact that you think I’m out of this world, I’m not sure I can get on board with this plan.”

  “Why not? I’m sure you have more to offer a woman than just your football status.” I chuckled. Liam was an interesting guy. He had to know that.

  Liam laughed along with me for a few seconds before it died off and he got an uncomfortable look on his face. As if I’d scraped the surface of something that bothered him.

  Interesting …

  But just as it appeared, he whisked it away and his cocky mask returned. “I mean, of course. But I try to come out with the big guns first.” He flexed.

  I shook my head. Typical. Just when he started to feel vulnerable—to be real with me—the muscles came in to save the day. “Okay, Superman,” I said as I pulled my purse higher up on my shoulder. “Put those away before you hurt someone.”

  He dropped his hands to his side, and his smile softened. “In all seriousness, do you think you can help me?”

  I stared at him, taking in his vulnerability. There was something deep down, something he was hiding, and it intrigued me. “You’re not a lost cause.”

  He pumped his fist, completely oblivious to the stares of the people around us. “I knew it! I can be saved!” he shouted as he tipped his head back and raised both fists in the air.

  I shushed him and moved to pull his hands to his sides. I tried to ignore the feeling of warmth his skin left on my fingertips, but the heat seared my hand. This buzzing attraction would result in some awkward sessions if I didn’t get my ridiculous reactions under control right now. “I’m going to go so you can get back to your family. Lottie deserves a great evening, and I’ve monopolized the best man’s time long enough.”

  I glanced over to see that Lottie and Jaxson were consumed in conversation, and I doubted that she even noticed that there were other people at the party. Regardless, I knew it was going to be best for everyone involved to have me leave as soon as possible.

  Plus, I had a night of planning ahead of me.

  Liam nodded. “Sounds good. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  I pinched my lips together and nodded. “That I do.” I turned and started walking toward the front door.

  Just as I pulled on the handle, Liam called out, “See you bright and early tomorrow?”

  I nodded and glanced around, ignoring the confused looks of everyone in earshot. “Of course,” I called out before I pulled open the door and stepped outside. Once the door was shut securely behind me, I let out my breath. That had been … eventful.

  Thankfully, the more space I put between the McKnight house and me, the better I felt. My phone chimed when I climbed into my car, and once I was situated, I took it out to see that Winnie had texted. I started the engine but didn’t put it in drive as I checked what she said.

  Winnie: Please tell me you are still coming tomorrow. I’m over here freaking out that I’m going to be alone in this.

  I chuckled. Winnie wrote romance novels full time. I couldn’t believe how busy she was, what with writing conferences and writer cons and research trips and writing retreats. She was the outgoing one of the two of us and loved every minute of a book signing. I was set to go to one of hers tomorrow and couldn’t wait. Sisterly pride was a thing between us. She was just as proud of my PhD as I was of her USA Today bestseller byline.

  She was an amazing writer, and yet she was crippled with self-doubt. I told her on many occasions that she should get that looked at, but she just wagged her finger in my direction and told me that she wasn’t interested in having her head shrunk. Then she would give me a kiss and tell me that she loved me anyway.

  Me: I’ll be there with balloons and streamers.

  Apparently, there was a whole fan base that was chomping at the bit to get the signature and picture of Ms. Winnie Baker. She thought it was ridiculous. I thought it was adorable.

  My sister had a fan base. It was all so glamorous.

  She sent me about twenty praying hands, and I laughed. After slipping my phone in the holder on the dash, I put my car in reverse and drove off.

  My evening was uneventful. I took a shower once I got home and slipped into my threadbare sweats. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun and climbed onto my bed, where I opened my computer and dived into work.

  I stopped only once to order some of that miracle hair cream that Lottie had used and get a mug of hot cocoa, but then I returned to creating my game plan for Liam. It involved him getting outside of his comfort zone and speaking to women he wouldn’t normally find at a bar or hit on at a team party. He needed to take up other hobbies and talk to women on their level. He always brought them to his wheelhouse; it was time he started going into theirs.

  I didn’t realize that I’d fallen asleep until I heard a loud knocking on my door. I startled awake, pulling myself to sitting and glancing around.

  Where was I? What was going on? What time was it?

  A sense of déjà vu washed over me, but it quickly passed when I realized that I was in my pajamas in my bed and I was not, in fact, in my office. I closed my computer, which had gone to sleep on its own.

  I yawned as I headed toward the door. As I passed by the kitchen, I looked at the clock on the oven. Seven in the morning? On a Sunday?

  The knocks started up again. It had to be George from next door. His cat was always running away. I loved George and I even loved Sprinkles, but I did not love their on again/off again relationship.

  I unlocked the door and pulled hard. “What is it now, Geor—”

  Liam’s face appeared in front of me, and without thinking, I screamed and slammed the door. I threw my body against the nearby wall and grabbed at my chest, where my heart felt like it was going to explode. What on earth was that man doing here?

  Once I was calm and collected, I took in a deep breath and peered through the peephole—which I should have done in the first place.

  Liam stared straight at me. I yelped and dipped down.

  “I know you’re in there, Doc.” He knocked a few more times. “Come on—we have work to do.”

  Realizing that there was no way I was going to be able to sneak off and take some prep time in the bathroom without him questioning what I was doing or why I even cared what I looked like in front of him first thing in the morning, I straightened my shirt and cleared my throat. He was my client, nothing more. Well, maybe an old study buddy, but that was all the leeway I’d allow.

  “I don’t like it when you call me Doc,” I said as I pulled open the door. I mustered the most relaxed expression I could as I stood there.

  He smirked. “This happens a lot in our relationship,” he said as he pushed on the door. I hadn’t been holding it too tight, and it sprang from my grasp.

  Before I knew what was happening, he was in my apartment and heading to my kitchen.

  “What happens in our relationship, and where are you going?” I called after him, slamming the door behind me.

  I found him in my fridge and rummaging. I leaned on the door in hopes that he picked up on the hint that he was not allowed in there, but he just pushed back.

  “I’m starving,” he murmured before he emerged with the eggs and bacon I’d been saving for a special occasion. There was only so much high-fat food my hips could take. He had a carrot in his mouth, and his gaze once again raked over me, causing his much-too-handsome smile to emerge. “You’re cute when you just wake up.” Then he bit down on the carrot and moved to the stove. “But you might want to get dressed.”

  Feeling completely exposed and out of control, I wrapped my arms around my bra-less chest and hurried over to him. “Do you want to tell me why you’re here?” I asked as I tried to pull the pan from his hands.

  He studied me as if I were a pesky gnat buzzing around him. No matter how hard I tried to pull the pan from his grasp, he didn’t let go. Instead, he watched my attempt while munching on his carrot.

  Once his carrot was finished
, he let go of the pan and shrugged. “I thought we were going to get started.”

  When there was no longer a counterweight to the pan, I was suddenly flung forward, and it took me a moment before I stabilized. Then I set the pan down on the counter and turned to face him. “At seven on a Sunday morning?”

  “I paid for seven days.” He stepped closer to me, effectively removing all of the oxygen from the room. My cheeks flushed as I watched him invade my bubble, but I felt completely frozen in place. “And I intend on getting every minute of those seven days.” He dipped down and met my gaze. He completed his move with a sexy half smile and a twinkle in his eye that told me he saw my reaction.

  Crap.

  I cleared my throat and pushed him away at the same time I backed up. Once I was far enough away, I took in a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. Let me get dressed first.”

  He nodded and turned to the egg carton, where he grabbed a few out. “I’m excited for my day to start,” he called after me as I hurried into my room.

  I shut the door behind me and collapsed against the wall, burying my face in my knees. My heart was still racing from his presence, and my head spun from my own reaction.

  Whatever was happening, it wasn’t good. This was rapidly turning from a therapy session into something much different. And I couldn’t help but worry that at the end of all of this, Liam would be healed and I would be broken. Again.

  Chapter Six

  Liam

  Sunday Morning

  Heather had a cute apartment. I expected it to look like her office, with a leather couch and a large desk. But it was much more relaxed, homey even. Also, she was messier than I’d imagined. After all, she was wound so tight that I figured her apartment was white-glove clean. Based on the dishes sitting in the sink and a few sticky spots on the counter, she was in fact human. Which helped soften her a bit, in my opinion.