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Repaired Page 9

by Melissa Collins


  His audible sigh broke my concentration. “I don’t know.” Liam’s voice quivered a little, clearly affected by my demands.

  More than a little frustrated he hadn’t taken the bait immediately, I leaned in to press my lips against his ear. Well, if he wasn’t going to the make the decision on his own, I’d just have to use my abilities to persuade him. “Stop.” The vibrations of my chest rumbled against his, locking him in place. With wide-eyes, he looked at me, waiting on what seemed like pins and needles for my next words to drop. “We both know we want to see where this goes. We knew it two weeks ago and I’m the one who made the first move. Now all you have to do is say yes.”

  His eyes widened with something other than lust. Rage maybe, but definitely anger. “And what if I say no to helping with the car? Not that you actually asked, or anything.” I could only describe his tone as mocking. His lean muscles seemed to vibrate with the built-up tension. Leaning forward somewhat aggressively—at least in terms of what he seemed capable of—he added with a hint of cynicism, “What if I can’t be bought with your money?”

  My hands fell from his body. Raking them through my hair, I pulled on the ends, wishing I had just pushed my way into his life—into his room, at least for the night—and then just silently disappeared as I’d done with countless men so many other times. There was a naked and raw pleasure in taking what I wanted from people who were willing to give it to me. Yet, something deeper called to me with Liam. Something about his need to cover up whatever it was that he was hiding. And I knew getting what I wanted from him because he wanted to give it to me, was the promise of something I’d never had before.

  And there it was—he was the fruit from which I’d been forbidden to take a bite. He was everything I wasn’t supposed to want and everything I couldn’t resist. But, whether it was my need to hear him agree, or possibly knowing somehow he’d have more to offer me than a repaired car, I needed him to submit to me. I needed it more than I should.

  And that was what made me push on. “Fuck the money then.” Anger twisted me on the spot and I moved away from him, staring out into the darkening sky. When I regained my sense of control, I kept a few feet of distance between us. There was something about Liam that put me on edge; that made me angry, when anger was the last emotion I ever wanted to feel around him. Determined to convince him, I faced him once more. “Forget the car then. If that’s what’ll make you give me what I want, then I couldn’t care less about a stupid car.” Pausing, I tried to gather a more intelligible line of reasoning. “And really? Money is that big of a deal to you? That’s too bad, then.” He looked at me, curiosity mixing with confusion. “If that’s the thing that divides us, you’ll just have to get used to it; because my money isn’t going anywhere. And if I can use it to get me what I want, who I want, then you bet your fucking ass I’ll use it to my advantage.” Empowered by my words, I moved closer to him. “And I can tell you want it, too. So don’t use my income as an excuse to keep us from what we both want.”

  Silence settled between us and as it descended to the ground, my anger threatened to boil over. For every second he didn’t respond, I became more and more vulnerable—and that was a feeling with which I didn’t care to associate. Angry at myself for saying much more than I should have, and angry with Liam for making me say it, I dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out my keys. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t need this shit.”

  His hand fell to my shoulder before I could even turn fully around. As if words weren’t needed, or maybe it was because he couldn’t find the right ones, he effortlessly pulled me toward the door. Twisting the key the rest of the way, he pushed the door open and walked us both inside.

  Once we were past the threshold, his demeanor changed. On edge, worried almost, he tossed his jacket over the back of a beat-up chair. Leaning his hip against the counter, his face pulled into tight lines, his eyes sharpening in distress. “You can come with me tonight, but you’ll have to wait for me to shower.”

  And with that very simple sentence, he rendered me as speechless as I’d made him when I pushed my body against his. Nodding, I took a deep breath and tried my best to seem unaffected. The fact that he softly chuckled at me suggested that I’d failed miserably.

  As he walked away, he tipped his head toward the living room. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  Figuring I needed some kind of distraction to keep my mind from wandering to thoughts of Liam in the shower, I flopped down on the couch and switched on the television. There was no stronger hard-on killer than the evening news. The faces of my latest high profile clients plastered across the screen in some bullshit drama was definitely enough to make me forget Liam, at least for a few minutes.

  Avery Maxwell grew up in high society, enjoying the lavish lifestyle with which her father’s notoriety had provided her. Didn’t do much to teach her manners, though. Her husband, Harvey Maxwell wasn’t all that much better when it came to behavioral standards, but he wasn’t my client. Also from a ridiculously wealthy family, Harvey had built a fortune of his own. Avery was after her portion, using her need for child support as a ridiculous front. Though I’d tried to avoid taking the case, my father thrust it upon me, hinting that if I could win this case for the firm, he’d be proud of me somehow.

  But watching Mrs. Avery Maxwell parade her two young children around in front of the paparazzi, using them as pawns in this whole divorce, was enough to make my stomach churn in disgust. The scene playing out before me on the television, of her literally grabbing her son by the scruff of his neck and all but hurling him at his father, was enough for me to want to drop the case.

  But for some asinine reason, I knew I wouldn’t do that. Even though her public image was the more difficult one to deal with, it was still easier to fight for the mother in divorce cases. Though my heart might be torn, my mind was already made up. Win the case. Get Avery what she wanted. Win my father’s approval. Bury my own disgust. Maintain the outward appearance of being happy.

  For years I’d been able to do those things, but more recently, I found myself traveling down this road all too frequently. The one that twists and turns, winding you toward something, of which you’re not entirely certain. And while most might find this exciting, exhilarating even, I found it terrifying.

  In short, I’d only recently discovered that I let myself create and exist in a world where I was miserable.

  Something had to give, but it was up to me to learn how to bend before I broke.

  No longer able to stomach the very real PR nightmare playing out in front of me, I clicked off the television just as I heard the bathroom door open.

  At the risk of suffering from whiplash, I made a very concerted effort to keep my head turned away from the hallway. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to catch a glimpse of Liam, dripping wet and steaming hot, but I wanted to see it when he was under me, as I moved inside of him.

  When his bedroom door clicked closed, I stood from the couch and casually sauntered down the hallway. Resting my back against the wall, I spoke loudly enough so that he could hear me through his door. “So,” I called for his attention. When I heard his movements come to a stop, his feet breaking up the sliver of light escaping from under his door, I smiled, knowing I’d caught him off guard. “Anything I should know about tonight, about the people who’ll be there?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but he resumed his movements on the other side of the door. The flickers of light and sounds of his feet shuffling across the soft carpet were evidence of that. After a minute or so had passed, he opened the door and rested his hip against the frame.

  Scoffing lightly at what he obviously found to be a ridiculous question, he stood there for a moment before saying, “Not much to know.” As he slid his wallet into his back pocket, he added, “They’re a good bunch. Especially Paulie and Annie. They’re my family.” On his last words, he walked past me, the scent of his soap and cologne lingering in the air.

  Watchi
ng him head back into the living room gave me the opportunity to stare at him without the fear of being caught. And holy fuck was he something to look at.

  Liam in a pair of faded and ripped-at-the-knees jeans was enough to make anyone’s mouth go dry. Mine turned near Saharan and I was sure my eyes bulged out of my head, almost cartoon-like. His black, long-sleeved shirt clung to every curve and line of his hard body. Knowing exactly how the body underneath those clothes felt as it pressed up against my own, did nothing to make speaking any easier. Somehow, the fact that he held his work boots and socks in his hand, leaving his feet bare made him look even more sensual.

  His hair had the perfect combination of styled and ‘I don’t give a fuck’ going on and it made my fingers itch to touch it, push the longer pieces of it away as it fell into his eyes. Because nothing should ever block his eyes. They were a mesmerizing shade of brown, like nothing I’d ever seen. Flecks of gold and red sparkled, despite the anger he seemed to hold hostage there.

  “Must be pretty important then if you call them your family?” Pressing forward, I pushed my luck when I asked, “Where is your actual family?”

  A look capable of melting stone locked me in place. Apparently, if there was a line I wasn’t supposed to cross, that was the one. “It’s just me.” There was nothing up for discussion down that path. He’d made that perfectly clear in the harsh bluntness of his words as he slid his feet into his boots.

  “Okay, so then what about Paulie? Anything I should know about him?”

  Liam grabbed his jacket and I watched in awe as he slid it over his body, jealous of the way it glided against his muscles. Shrugging, he grabbed his keys and phone from the counter. “Yeah.” He laughed, turning back to face me. “It’s simple really.” Resting his ass against the counter, he crossed his legs at the ankles, folding his strong arms over his chest. “The man saved my life. That’s all.”

  That’s all. That’s not all. That was everything. A million questions flew around in my head, but no words would come from my mouth.

  Laughing again, Liam pushed off the counter. “Oh, and one more thing.” Liam held my confused stare as he said, “Don’t piss him off.” And with those words of warning and jest hanging there, he walked out of his house, leaving me no choice but to follow. My feet, however, wouldn’t move. Frozen to the spot, I simply watched Liam’s body move away from mine.

  The only thought racing through my brain was who the hell was this man?

  Calling to me over his shoulder, he shot me a perplexed look when he realized I hadn’t moved from the spot in which he’d just left me. “Ready to go?” Angling his head to the open door, he waved me over to him.

  And I was ready to get to know him more, to see him in his element with the people he considered his family.

  But most of all, I was ready to figure out why his life had needed saving in the first place.

  The ride to Murray’s was filled only with our silence and the background noise of the radio. After he’d asked about my family, talking became the last thing I wanted to do. Besides, my brain was too focused on worrying about what everyone would say about me bringing someone along to the party. I never showed up with anyone and this would surely raise some questions. Well, more questions where Gabe and Drea were concerned. God knows they’d probably already bitten their tongues and held back what they really wanted to say.

  The gravel crunching under the tires of my car broke through the end of a song playing on the radio. Looking over at Parker, I smiled at him. “Ready to get those hands of yours dirty?”

  When he reached across his lap to unbuckle the seatbelt, his scent, like a pine forest after a cool spring shower, completely assaulted me. He dropped one of his hands to my thigh, dangerously close to my groin. “My hands”—he squeezed my thigh—“and every other part of me are ready to get dirty.” His full lips pulled up into a cocky grin. An eyebrow arched, as if it were beckoning me to rise to his challenge. And his words were most definitely a challenge—one which I was more than ready to accept, especially when there was that hint of command in his voice. Hell, if he was this confident while we were just talking, I couldn’t imagine how he’d be in a bedroom.

  In my bedroom.

  On top of me.

  Taking me.

  Controlling me.

  But for now, I had to push those thoughts and desires aside. My focus had to be on Annie and her party, because if it wasn’t, Paulie wouldn’t ever let me live it down. And not because the surprise party was all that big of a deal; no, he’d never let me live it down because I’d let someone get under my skin. The one thing I’d vowed never to let happen, had, in fact happened. And now, no matter how much I tried to deny it, Parker made refusing my need for him impossible.

  Knowing he’d had an effect on me, he smirked again before sliding out of the car. Confidently, he strutted to the rear entrance of Murray’s. He’d made it up to the three steps leading up to the shipping entrance before he realized I wasn’t behind him.

  “I told you your hands were going to get dirty,” I called from my car when he looked back for me. With my arms loaded with strings of lights and bags of decorations, Parker shot me a strange look. “You didn’t think we’d show up and everything would be done already, did you?”

  He laughed as he walked back to me. “I guess I did.” An electric current passed between us as his fingers grazed my arms when he relieved me of a few bags. The lingering caress of his soft touches confirmed what I’d already known—I wanted him.

  “Most of the parties I’ve been to are black tie affairs. It’s always someone else’s job to set up and clean up. I only have to show up.” He did nothing to hide the disdain he felt for those types of parties, and the anger in his words made it easier for me to hear him speak of his upper crust life. “They’re boring as fuck, though.”

  After lifting the final bag from the trunk, I slammed it shut. “Yeah, how so?” I was genuinely interested in how someone with that kind of money could ever be bored.

  We began walking into Murray’s and Parker kept his eyes focused in front of him, never looking over at me as I walked next to him. “They’re just huge dick measuring contests, that’s how. Take my father for instance, he only goes to the charity events to get the low down on which celebrity couple is next to split. He drops his card on their table and plants the seeds of divorce in their minds while seeing only dollar signs. He never once thinks about the repercussions of their break up, the effect it might have on them or their kids.”

  Stopping dead in my tracks, I could hardly believe the words coming from his mouth. But the second he turned to face me, I knew why he’d kept his eyes turned away as he spoke them. Something real and raw shone in the depths of his blue eyes, something that screamed of his unhappiness.

  It was clear as day to me because I’d tried for so long to hide that same look, that same anger of being trapped in a life you’d give anything to escape.

  Not knowing how to react to what he’d just shared with me—mainly because it scared the shit out of me—I simply tipped my head to the door, raising my loaded arms as an indication that I needed his help. “Well, I can promise you this party will be nothing like that.”

  He held the door open for me, a lopsided grin on his face as I walked past him.

  “Go help that boy!” Drea nearly yelled from the bar as she saw me walk in. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the low lighting of the bar, but as soon as I looked in the direction to which Drea spoke her words, I knew she was talking to Gabe.

  And of course, being the wiseass that he is, rather than taking one of the dozen or so bags from my hands, Gabe unloaded everything from Parker’s. “Hey, Parker.” Gabe smiled at him, ignoring my less-than-enthused glare. “Good seeing you again.”

  “Ahem,” I pretended to clear my throat. “Little help would be nice.”

  “Wimp,” Gabe laughed before walking away with Parker.

  Biting my tongue, I held back the curses I wanted to hur
l at Gabe. We’d been here for two seconds and already he’d pulled Parker away from me. Though I knew he’d never tell him anything about me without my permission, I needed to know what his end goal was. Parker definitely wasn’t his type, and even if he was, Gabe wasn’t the type to go behind his friend’s back.

  “Those lights aren’t going to hang themselves, you know.” Murray’s paw-like hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Let’s get to work, kid.”

  Murray pulled me into the larger back room of the bar, where the band was going to set up. On most normal nights, Drea and Murray kept the back portion closed off. It was too much to maintain for the regular crowd. Opening it only for special occasions, it typically laid in wait for nights just like tonight. It wasn’t a huge space, but it was enough for the small group we were expecting tonight. And since it was usually partitioned off, it would be an easy way to actually surprise Annie.

  After I laid out the strands of white Christmas tree lights on a table, Murray brought a ladder out to me. We both stood there looking at it, waiting for the other to climb up. “You’re funny, kid.” He laughed, extending his hand to the ladder. “I’m too old for that shit.”

  “Fine,” I huffed. When I stood on the top step, I twisted my body slightly so I could reach around and grab the first set of lights.

  “Hey, Murray,” Gabe said as he walked toward us. “Drea needs you in the kitchen.” When Gabe took the strand of lights from Murray, much more than the lights were exchanged between them. I had no clue what the three of them were up to, but it was starting to piss me off.

 

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