by Abby Brooks
“You know staring at it isn’t going to make a patio magically appear, right?”
She’s leaning on the house, her arms crossed over her chest, looking so fucking beautiful out here in the setting sun that I don’t know what to say right away.
“Look at you,” she says, laughing a little. “Are you tongue-tied, Liam McGuire? Is that even possible?”
“I didn’t think it was. And then I saw you standing there, looking like that, and I didn’t have a word to describe how perfect you are.”
Her face goes slack and she blinks a couple times before a funny look comes over her face. Was that too much? Too sappy, too fast? I don’t know how to handle myself. I never stick around for post-sex conversation, and I certainly don’t ever have thoughts like that flitting around my head. It never occurred to me not to say it.
Bailey pushes off the wall and puts her hands on her hips, a faint breeze blowing a wisp of hair into her face. “But seriously. Maybe if you told me what you’re thinking about out here, I could help.”
I shrug. “Just trying to figure out how to do this on your budget without it being a boring slab of pavers or something.”
The way her backyard is framed by all these trees, I could see her coming out here after a long day at work, kicking her feet up and having a glass of wine, and just, I don’t know, taking a long breath or whatever it is that people do when they have time to unwind.
Bailey laughs. “A boring slab of pavers sounds pretty good to me. Especially compared to the nothing that’s out here now.”
“Yeah, but I still think I can figure out how to make it better.”
“You know what?” Bailey comes to stand next to me. “My brother, Michael? He’s pretty good at this kind of stuff. Building things on a budget. He’s an ass, but I bet he’d meet us up at the bar. Buy him a drink and he’ll be yours forever.” She smiles at me, but there’s pain in her eyes.
I don’t know if I should pull her close and ask her what’s wrong or if I should ignore it. And the fact that I don’t know how to handle myself right now just proves to me that I’m in way over my head.
I settle on keeping the tone light. “You mean, actually leave the house and socialize with other people?”
“You’ll have to wear long sleeves and a hat. And keep the scruff.” She rubs a hand along my jawline, her gaze flickering to my mouth. “It suits you.” Bailey takes a long breath and then removes her hand, staring past me towards the trees.
“Am I being too touchy-feely?” she asks. “I don’t know how to handle myself right now. Sorry if I’m making it awkward.”
Of all the responses rolling around in my head, I settle on sarcasm. “What? Awkward? I didn’t even notice.”
“Don’t be a jerk,” she says and slaps my arm. I capture her wrist and draw her close.
“Then don’t make this weird.”
I kiss her. She resists at first and then softens. Runs her hands up my back and down my arms. “So,” I say, resting my forehead on hers.
“So,” she breathes.
“Are you really going to take me out or are you just being a dirty little tease? Because believe you me, no one likes a tease, Nurse Schultz. I don’t care how much they say they do.”
Bailey pulls back and stares at me. Really takes my measure. Her brows furrow and she tilts her head to the side as if she’s asking a question, before nodding her head once, as if to answer it.
“Let me call Michael,” she says. “You go get changed.”
LIAM
It’s not a long drive to Smitty’s, her favorite bar, and we fill it by turning on the radio and singing loudly to whatever song comes on. Her voice is pretty, a little rough around the edges, but honest, kind of like her. When we get to the bar, she puts the truck in park, turns off the engine, and turns to me.
“Are you ready for this?” She grimaces.
“You say that like there’s something I need to know about this place.”
“It’s a far cry from LA. And Michael … Well, he’s Michael. He means well.” She shrugs. “But he doesn’t always come off like it.”
“Believe me.” I pause and take a long breath. “I understand family members who mean well but manage to push every single one of your buttons anyway. I could write a book about my mom and her totally conditional love.”
Bailey lets out a low whistle. “God, I’m sorry to hear that. I’d love to talk about it, but maybe it’s a conversation for when we’re not sitting in a parking lot behind a bar?”
“If it’s a conversation we should have at all.”
Bailey shakes her head. “Oh, we’ll have the conversation. I want to know everything about you. But I want to do it when we’ve got time to do it right.” She pushes open the door and it groans as it swings open. We climb out of the truck and she leads me to Smitty’s unassuming front door.
She pauses. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says with a wry smile.
The clink and clack of a good break at the pool table welcomes us as we walk inside. The bar is dirty. And it smells. And has terrible lighting. But people are laughing and the music is good, and I’m sure the beer tastes just like it’s supposed to. Bailey leads me to a table where a big man with dark eyes sits hunched over a bottle of Budweiser.
“Ho-lee shit. If it isn’t my darling big sister and her mystery man.”
“Michael, I’d like you to meet Liam.” Bailey doesn’t offer my last name and scowls at her brother while he scrunches up his nose at me.
“Liam?” Michael studies me and then smiles, looking more like Bailey by the minute. “No shit,” he says as recognition dawns across his face.
Bailey pulls out a chair and sits down, leans in and puts a finger to her brother’s lips. “You say nothing, you understand. Not one word.”
I take a seat next to Bailey. “What’s up, man?”
“I can’t even believe this. Liam fucking Mcguire.” Michael takes a long drag of his beer, never taking his eyes off me, and then lowers his voice when Bailey shushes him. “Is that the scar that has all the girlies on the news going stupid?”
I shrug and tilt my chin so the light can cut through the shadows the brim of my ball cap casts down my face. “Yep.”
Michael shakes his head. “Man, chicks can be so dumb. It’s barely visible. No wonder you’re hiding out here.”
The chair beside me scoots back and I look up, surprised, to see a tall blonde with cherry red lips staring angrily at Bailey. “Well, look who actually exists outside of the hospital.” A sweet little brunette beside the blonde smiles shyly and twiddles her fingers in one of those girly waves.
Bailey’s eyes light up. “Lexi! What are you doing here?”
Lexi sits next to me, barely glancing in my direction. “Since you’ve all but abandoned me, I made poor Michelle start taking me out for some serious one-on-one adult time.” She frowns. “That came out wrong, didn’t it?”
The little brunette widens her eyes, looking uncomfortable. “Maybe a little wrong.” She turns to us. “We’re not lovers or anything.”
“Ain’t that a shame,” Michael mutters into his beer and Bailey slaps his arm.
“Michelle and I met at a single mom’s support group and it was clear right away that she’s pretty damn awesome. You guys are going to love her.”
Michelle takes a seat. “I’m right here,” she says to Lexi. “Way to make it weird.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Bailey grins. “Lexi always makes it weird.”
Lexi sticks out her tongue at Bailey before she turns to me and really notices me for the first time. “Wow,” she says. “Now that’s a transformation.”
“You like? Or do you miss the old me?” I turn my chin from side to side, letting her get the view from all possible angles.
Lexi taps a finger against her chin and gives me the once over. “I think this is an improvement, don’t you?” she says, turning to Bailey.
Bailey blushes and Lexi’s eyes go wide with u
nderstanding—how do girls do that? Communicate so much with so few words?—just as a waitress interrupts to take our drink orders. I’m careful to keep my chin down and my voice low, just in case I’m not as incognito as Lexi would have me believe.
“So, my best friend’s banging a pop star and I didn’t even know about it.” Lexi shakes her head and looks forlorn.
“Oh, Lexi,” Michael sits back and grimaces. “Too much information.”
Bailey shakes her head. “For real. Time and place, my friend.”
The friendship and camaraderie between the three of them is apparent. I like both her brother and her friend, but more than anything, I like watching Bailey smile. She’s easy with them, natural. And there’s absolutely no difference between how she’s behaving now and how she is when it’s just the two of us. It’s a strange realization, knowing that’s she’s actually herself with me. So many people wear masks around the great Liam McGuire. Bailey just is.
“Hey man,” Michael says, flagging the waitress for another beer. “You play?” He gestures toward the pool tables in the back.
“Do I play? Hell fucking yes, I play.”
“Why don’t you and I let these three chickadees get some time alone so Bailey can tell Lexi all about you, and Lexi can tell Bailey how much she wants me, and poor Michelle can sit there wondering how she got roped into all this.”
Lexi rolls her eyes. “As if.”
Bailey smiles and laughs, her eyes flashing towards mine, and it does funny things to me. I want to give her a million reasons to never stop smiling, and at the same time I want to take her out back and fuck her against the wall behind the bar. On a whim, I lean down and kiss her, cupping her cheek with my hand. When I pull back, her eyes are wide and beautiful as she stares up at me. I waggle my eyebrows at her and saunter away, Lexi’s squeal of excitement bringing a smile to my lips.
I like this. Being out with Bailey and her friends. They’re not busy trying to be anyone but who they are and it’s really fucking refreshing. I can see myself here. Living this simple life, loving these honest people. The thought keeps me smiling through most of my first game of pool with Michael. Bailey’s right. He’s rough around the edges, drinking too much and shaping his stories around their shock value, but he has some great ideas on how to get the patio done without going too far over her budget.
“Why are you so determined to build a patio there, anyway?” he asks me as he sizes up a shot. “She hates that place.” Michael bounces the cue ball off the wall, sending it around a few stripes to land a solid in the corner pocket.
“She hates it?”
“Yeah. I swear she’s only there to do penance or something.”
“Penance?” What in the hell would someone like Bailey ever have to pay penance for? And how could it come in the shape of a house?
“Yeah.” Michael’s face darkens. “For Tyler and our parents.”
Needing a distraction, I roll up my sleeves and stalk around the table in search of a shot.
“She didn’t tell you about that, did she?”
I lean over and sight down my cue. “Is it a story I should know?” I glance up at Michael.
He tips back his beer and finishes the thing, downing half the bottle in a few swallows. “That’s for her to tell you, not me.” His tone is light but his eyes are hard and he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth before he gestures towards the waitress, avoiding my eyes.
A million thoughts scatter through my mind, keeping time with the pool balls I send crashing around the table. What in the world would Bailey need to pay penance for? And who the fuck is Tyler?
Michael takes his fifth beer from the waitress and sets up his shot without even the faintest hint of a wobble in his step. The balls go spinning right where he sends them and he looks up, satisfied, before his eyes settle on something behind me. He gestures with his chin before starting forward.
“I said no thank you!” Bailey’s voice is raised, angry. I spin and find some guy bending over her, his face too close to hers. She pushes at his hands, which he keeps putting all over her.
Lexi pushes out of her chair. “Let go of her, Derrick!”
I’m in motion before I decide just how far I’m willing to take this, dropping my cue on the table and striding across the bar. I grab the guy by his shoulders and pull him into a standing position.
“I think she’d prefer you not to be so close.”
Derrick scoffs. “Says you.”
“She seemed pretty clear about it herself.” I stare the asshole down, pulling myself up to my full height and squaring my shoulders.
Derrick clenches his hands into fists and then quite pointedly leans back over and gets in Bailey’s face, opening his dead-fish lips to spew some nonsense in her direction. As soon as he gets close enough, she lands a slap across his cheek and I grab him, spin him, and punch him right in the face. His eyes go wide and stupid and he staggers back before stepping forward again.
Dude’s tougher than he looks.
I spin my hat around, getting the bill out of my line of sight, and bring up my fists. Michael appears at my side, looking just as ready to fight as I feel, and the girls are up out of their chairs, trying to get in between us, desperate to make sure no one gets hurt.
Derrick lunges, but I’m ready for him. Stupid fucker doesn’t realize that a good portion of my gym time is spent working with a speed bag. My fist connects with his cheekbone and his legs get wobbly, dropping him to his knees. Bailey screams and the bar goes silent. I have one second to enjoy my victory, and then:
“Oh, my GOD! You’re Liam McGuire!” It’s a female voice, slurring with liquor and excitement.
Derrick looks up at me, squinting, one hand covering his already swelling face. Bailey stares, her eyes wide and her mouth open and I realize what I’ve done. With my sleeves rolled up to reveal my tattoos and my hat on backwards to show off my face, I drew attention to myself by dropping a man to his knees in a bar filled with people.
Panic strums through my body as I watch the color drain out of Bailey’s face. I’ve got two options, deny it and look like an ass because there’s no way I’m convincing anyone I’m not me, or roll with it and see if I can charm these people into keeping my secret.
I choose option two.
Holding up my hands, I smile in the direction of the voice. “Guilty as charged,” I say before helping Derrick to his feet and clapping him on the back like we’re old friends. “Can anyone bring this guy some ice?” I catch the attention of the bartender and wave him over.
People swarm me, cameras out, voices raised, questions coming at me from every direction. I slide my sleeves back down and spin my hat around. “Put your cameras away.” I unleash a winning smile. “I hate to say it, but I have to. My lawyers will be furious if they find out you guys spotted me. If any pictures of me here tonight hit the Internet, we’ll all be dealing with them.” I shrug and wink at a girl who looks barely old enough to drink, smiling up at me like she’s finally found Jesus.
It doesn’t take long and I’ve got them in the palm of my hands, answering questions and flirting with everyone. Men. Women. If it has a pulse, I’m smiling and winking and doing my damndest to get them to fall under my spell. It’ll be enough to get us out of here without making a scene, but we’re still royally screwed. Just because they’re promising secrecy right now doesn’t mean they won’t make a big fucking deal of what happened as soon as they sober up. And that Derrick guy? He’s going to take one look at that black eye and swollen cheek and see a money making opportunity. I bet he’s got his lawyer yapping at my lawyers before the sun rises.
There’s no way around it. I have to call Brent. The PR team needs to know what happened so they can put out this fire because I refuse to let Bailey wake up to the paparazzi skulking around her yard, digging through her trash, peeking through her windows. She’s not prepared for that kind of life. Fuck. I’m not prepared to go back to that kind of life.
“Alright,” I sa
y to the crowd, careful not to look Bailey’s way. The less they have to connect me to her, the better it’ll be. “You guys promise to keep my visit here a secret and maybe I’ll figure out a way to come back.”
They promise to keep my secret—but they’re lying—and I walk out the front door like everything’s going to be okay—but it’s not.
BAILEY
I follow Liam outside and find him waiting for me near the truck, leaning on the thing with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I can’t believe that was real life right now.” I widen my eyes as adrenaline rockets through my bloodstream. “How are you so calm?”
“That was nothing, hot lips.” He licks his lips and runs a hand over the back of his neck. “That was a handful of people with stars in their eyes and phones in their hands. It’s the people with press passes you have to worry about.”
“Yeah, but…” I trail off as we climb into the truck and close the doors behind us. “Fans and paparazzi aside, you hit Derrick. In the face. Hard. How are you not more upset than this?”
Liam flexes his hand. “For one, he totally deserved it.”
“I feel like I’m supposed to disagree with you. Out of some moral code or something.” I bring the truck to life and wrestle her into reverse, laughing a little too loud. “But you’re right. He totally deserved it. Maybe not off the basis of tonight alone, but off the culmination of sooooo many nights of him acting just like that.”
“Well,” Liam says before he takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “That should give any and all future douchebags a reason to stop and think twice before coming up to hit on you.”
“Yeah. It’ll also give the whole town another interesting chapter in the long-term drama that is my life.” Normally, that thought would sober me. Tonight? I’m too high on excitement to care too much.
