The sound of her name on his lips as he did so made something crack around her heart, letting something warm and comforting - sunlight after too much gray and cold - move inside.
Liam's bold folded forward, forcing her knees into her chest as he pressed down on them, braced on one hand above her, his forehead pressing into his as he sought control once again.
Her arms moved to his back, tentatively curling around him, not wanting to be the clingy type, but wanting, needing the connection.
She wanted to hold on forever.
She wanted to feel his heartbeat against her.
She wanted his breath on the side of her face.
But fate had other plans.
Because the door creaked open, making both of them jolt.
Liam threw himself away, shifting himself back into his jeans as his other hand grabbed her knee, dragging her across the counter, making her fall to the ground at his feet as he got his button and zip into place, leaving her crouching there, heart absolutely hammering in her chest, sitting there with her bare ass pressed to her legs as she silently grabbed her scattered clothing, holding them to her lap as she slipped her bra cups back into place.
Above her, Liam reached for the cleaning bucket with submerged rags he kept sitting around, wiping off the counter casually as he moved in a foot, tucking his legs against her body, like he was both trying to hide her and also reassure her at once.
She knew, logically, from being at the shop several times that she was as hidden as she could be tucked where she was, but she was irrationally worried that someone would, she didn't know, lean over the counter or something.
It didn't seem to matter that she knew people didn't do that kind of thing.
Footsteps moved close, though she wasn't sure how she even heard it over the thundering of her heart.
Her head turned, pressing into the soft material of Liam's jeans, hiding her eyes like a little kid faced with something uncertain.
"Found that new historical, did you?" Liam's voice said, casual as ever, not giving the least bit of our tryst away, my nudity at his feet.
"Like you can sneak a new release past me," Maude's voice said, light, casual, like nothing was going on.
"Do you want your tea today?"
"No. No. Just the book. I have a client in a few," she said, and Riley could swear she heard something in her voice then, something wicked almost.
But, no.
That made no sense.
She had all her clothes.
There was no proof of her there.
And you couldn't see the cafe from the windows near the street.
"Then it is just eight-fifty-five," Liam said, cool as could be as Riley's stomach twisted in knots.
"Here you go," Maude's voice said and Liam's body swiveled slightly to run a card through the register, handing it and a receipt back at Maude.
"Have a good day, Liam. You too, Riley."
With that, she shuffled away. Even as Riley's heart went close to heart-attack frantic.
"It's okay," Liam's voice consoled after the front door clicked closed, and they knew they were alone again.
"No, it's not," Riley insisted, pressing her face further into Liam's leg as though she could force the blush from her cheeks by doing so.
His body shifted slightly as he moved to kneel down in front of her, hands pressing against her bare knees.
"Your purse was on the table," he told her, voice calm, reassuring.
"You know that was not the reason that tone was in her voice," Riley insisted, tilting her head up to look at him.
His smirk was slow, almost sweet. "So, what, you believe in psychics now?" he asked, teasing her, trying to get a rise out of her so she didn't feel the need to hop in her car and speed right out of town instead of having to face Maude again.
"I don't believe in psychics, but you have to admit, she has a knack for figuring things like this out somehow. It probably smells like sex in here."
"She's not going to tell anyone," he assured her.
"The hell she won't. She is the town gossip."
"Not about this, though," he said, shaking his head. "This is private. She wouldn't do that to you. Come on," he urged, reaching for the shirt she had on her lap, turning it right-side-out, bunching it up in his hands, and pushing it down over her head. She obeyed, putting her arms in the sleeves, pulling the material into place, suddenly glad she had a tendency to buy things a size or two up because the hem went down to almost give her the appearance of some modesty.
"Turn," she demanded anyway, finding her panties, balling them up in her hands.
"Really?" he asked, brow quirked. "I peeled them off of you. There shouldn't be an issue with me watching you put them back on."
"Key word watching. You weren't really watching before."
To that, he snorted. "You're ridiculous. And also wrong. You seriously don't think I was, what, in my head enough to pay attention to what I was doing? To learn all your body's secrets. You have a little heart-shaped birthmark right here," he informed her, pressing his hand under the clothes piled in her lap, touching the spot right below her hipbone hollow. "And a scar here," he went on, running his finger over the top of her knee. "And you taste sweet," he added, seeming perplexed by the very idea. After all, sweet wasn't what you'd expect she'd guess. "Which shouldn't be surprising with how much fucking sugar you consume."
To that, she snorted, swatting a hand into his chest, nearly toppling him off-balance. "Up. Turn," she demanded, not moving until he sighed and did just that, letting her quickly shimmy into her panties, and drag her pants back up her legs. "Okay."
His eyes roamed over her in a way that made her feel naked all over again. "Remind me the next time we fuck in here to lock the door."
"The next time?" she shot back somewhat haughtily.
"Please," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's happening again."
"You're so sure?" she asked, chin raising.
"Honey," he said, the endearment nothing like an endearment at all. Maybe because his smile was so damn cocky. "I guarantee you that you'll be begging for my cock again just like you were begging for it earlier."
With that, he turned away to pour himself a coffee.
Pour himself a coffee.
Like he hadn't just said that.
"Your coffee is going to get cold," he reminded her, tone somewhat absentminded. Maybe a little detached.
She turned, fighting off the weird sinking in her belly, reminding herself that sex wasn't like how it was in books. With feelings and ever-lasting after-the-deed-cuddles.
Sex was sex.
And the fact that casual sex was, well, casual, was the reason she so often avoided it.
She couldn't claim to be the warm and fuzzy sort as a whole, but having someone say you'd beg for them to screw you again then reminding her that her coffee was getting cold was almost, well, cold. Detached.
She was sure as she made her way back to the table she'd picked earlier, that detached was possibly the worst thing to feel after sex. Unless, like, the condom broke or something.
Oh, God.
The condom...
She turned on that thought to find Liam gone, heading back into his apartment to, most likely, deal with the discomfort of said condom since he hadn't gotten to before.
And then he didn't come back out.
Not in the time it took her to finish her lukewarm coffee.
Then one Madeleine.
And another.
Then a third.
Feeling oddly - uncharacteristically - insecure, she packed up her laptop, dropped a twenty on the counter, and took the only other copy of The Lost Queen off the shelf in the front, making her way back to the inn with a pit in her stomach.
"Back so soo... what's the matter?" Devon asked, eyes going concerned.
"Nothing," she lied, tone so high-pitched that anyone who heard it would know immediately it was a lie.
"Your hair is coming out of your pony, pretty g
irl," he told her, tone quiet, knowing. "Do I need to kick some book slinger's ass?" he added, making a smile tease at her lips. "Don't laugh at me. I might not be all muscular, but I am scrappy."
"Of course you are!" Em said, coming up behind Riley, using a puppy-dog voice on Devon. "Right, Riley? Super scrappy. Fearsome, even."
"I am shaking in my shoes," Riley agreed, reaching up to free her hair from its tie entirely, tucking it around her wrist.
"Dev, can you stay at the desk for a bit longer? I have to talk to Alec for a bit before I take over."
Dev shot Riley a look, a 'this isn't over' look, but nodded at his boss. "Sure thing."
Given an out, Riley hustled up to her room, closing and locking the door, ripping off her clothes, climbing into the shower, trying to talk herself out of her ridiculous, adolescent thoughts.
So what if sex was just sex?
Sex had to be just sex.
She was leaving.
It wasn't like she and Liam were going to live happily ever after while she kept a lie about who she was from him forever.
She got out feeling annoyed with herself for being sappy, slipping into oversized pajamas, climbing into bed, and cracking open the book Liam was reading.
She found herself annoyed when, six chapters in, she was fully immersed.
And there was a knock at her window, making her jolt.
She was slow to look over, figuring it was Dane who sometimes did that, making some kind of innuendo before moving off
He could wait until she finished her chapter.
Done, she slipped in her bookmark, slow blinking as she reached for her glasses.
But it wasn't Dane at her window.
No.
It was Liam.
Feeling her stomach tense, she slowly climbed out of bed, somewhat self-conscious about her pajamas as she made her way over, unlocking, then pulling it open.
"Devon wouldn't let me past the front door," he informed her, making her lips curl up despite her.
Devon was a good guy.
"I didn't tell him to keep you away."
To that, Liam smirked.
"Of course not," he said. "It would hurt your pride too much to tell him to keep me away." Her eyes slitted at him, only making his smile widen. "Admit it," he demanded.
"Admit what?"
"That you didn't want him to let me up."
"Did you scale a building to get up here?"
"There is lattice up the side."
"Why are you here? The store is still supposed to be open."
"I came out of my apartment and you were gone."
"You disappeared for like half an hour."
"And?" he asked, genuinely looking confused. "I had to clean," he admitted.
"Clean?" she asked, face scrunching up.
"Not myself," he told her, snorting. "My apartment."
"In the middle of a workday?"
"Well, after my workday, I wanted to invite you back. And I didn't want you walking in to find clothes all over and that I haven't washed my sheets since the peach picking day."
Okay, she had to admit, that was actually kind of sweet.
"I'm not a neat freak," she told him, waving around her room where her clothes and books and notebooks were all scattered around.
"Regardless."
"You were really going to ask me over?"
"Yes. I was going to attempt to get something healthy in your system."
"You were going to cook for me?"
She shouldn't have been so easy, but she felt herself melting, her defenses crumbling.
"When's the last time you had a home-cooked meal? Ramen doesn't count."
"Um... Easter?" she admitted, smiling.
"Because your mom cooked."
"Sister. She has a kid. So we go there to do the bunny thing."
"So you gonna get your head out of your ass, and come over? You can wear your ridiculous pajamas."
A love letter it was not, but she felt a bit gooey inside at the sentiment behind it.
Some people weren't open on the surface. She understood that. Her sister was that way. Her father was that way. They didn't always know how or when to say the right things, but whatever they did say, you could tell there was care and love behind it.
Liam, it seemed, was that kind of person.
Clearly reading all the romantics didn't mean he was one himself. His words were clumsy at best. But he was clearly genuine. He was trying to be, well, sweet.
And, to her, it meant more because he was not, by nature, a sweet person.
"No carrots."
"What?" he asked, face scrunching up.
"I hate carrots."
"I can't fathom a reason to hate carrots. Of all the strong tasting vegetables, they are rather bland."
"Regardless, I don't like them."
"So you're saying I can shove asparagus and Brussels sprouts in you tonight, but not carrots."
"I can't guarantee the asparagus or Brussels sprouts will be winners either," she admitted with a smirk.
"I'll wear you down. We'll start slow," he added, sounding determined.
Determined to wear her down.
To teach her to like vegetables.
Because he cared about her health.
Even as her heart tried to swell, a pin poked and deflated it, reminding her that there wouldn't be time to wear her down.
Eventually, she'd have to go back to her old life.
Her old, vegetable-less life.
"So you're coming?" he asked, sounding impatient. "I need to go to the market before they close," he added.
"I'll come. But I reserve the right to hold my nose to choke down the green stuff."
He snorted at that, but gave her a smile. "I can live with that. Seven?"
"Seven," she agreed, trying not to sound as eager as she felt. "Ah, Liam," she called when he turned to walk away.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to go out this way," she asked, waving toward the door. "You don't need to scale the building again."
"Probably a good idea," he agreed, ducking down, moving across her room, letting his eyes move around, falling for a moment on the book on her bed with a smirk.
"Oh, and watch out for Devon," she told him, holding the door open for him. "He's scrappy."
She closed the door on his confused look, liking that he didn't get the inside joke, going back to her bed with a smile on her face.
"Ah, pretty lady," Devon's voice said, the door creaking open, making her realize she hadn't locked it.
"Hey Dev," she said, waving a hand toward the foot of her bed, inviting him to sit down.
"So, a man who I did not let in the building somehow just walked out of this building."
"He climbed the lattice," she told him, unable to stop the smile that pulled at her lips.
"He scaled a building for you," he realized, nodding his head. "That's some smooth shit. Who'd have thought Liam - of all people - would pull that move. So, he's all forgiven?"
"There was a misunderstanding. What?" she asked when his brow went up.
"It's just... sometimes women say that when it wasn't really a misunderstanding at all, just a guy being a douche and gaslighting them into thinking she somehow misunderstood the whole situation."
"He wasn't a douche. Well, I mean, he was..."
"Liam?" Dev supplied with a smile.
"Yeah. He was Liam, but he just didn't communicate, and I jumped to conclusions. It genuinely was a misunderstanding."
"Alright," he said, nodding. "I'm glad to hear it."
"Thank you," she told him, meaning it. "For being a watchdog for me. You barely know me. I don't think anyone I know would have done that. It was sweet."
"Gotta stand up for my girls. Even if they don't need me to do it."
"You're a good guy. You'll make a girl really lucky someday."
"Key word there being someday."
"Still sowing your wild oats, huh?"
He paused, looking out the
window, thinking. "I think I just need to figure some shit out before I get there. Get serious about myself before I get serious about a woman."
She reached across the bed, patting his knee. "I like that. That's smart."
"Don't let these dashing good looks fool you," he said, waving a hand at himself. "It's not all air up here," he finished, tapping his temple. "So, you're good?"
"I'm good," she agreed, giving him a firm nod. "He's cooking me dinner."
"Giiiirl. That man knows the way to your heart, huh?"
"He's feeding me vegetables," she countered.
"The monster!" he declared, rising from the bed with a smile.
"Right?" she agreed, smiling as well.
"That's a good look on you. I hope you have a great dinner. Tell me all about it tomorrow."
"Promise," she told him with a nod.
She closed - and locked - her bedroom door with a feeling of warmth moving through her.
Not just because of Liam, though he was a part of it.
But because of Devon.
And Meggie who would have a yummy dessert waiting once Devon informed her about the forced-vegetable-feeding.
Even Dane with his light-hearted encouragement.
She felt almost, dare she think it, rather at home in Stars Landing. Perhaps even more so than she felt at her actual home.
She'd been there such a short time, but these people cared for her. Openly. Happily.
And, what's more, she found she cared for them.
Openly.
Happily.
She was going to be sad to go.
She hadn't ever felt that way before about leaving some place. Whether she was there for a vacation or trying out a new town or city, she only ever left when she was done, ready.
And as crazy as it sounded for the city-dwelling, take-away-food addict who didn't even know the names of her own neighbors, she had this crazy idea that she would never feel like she was done with Stars Landing, would never feel ready to leave.
Her heart ached at the very idea of leaving it, leaving them.
All of them.
But maybe especially Liam.
Pushing that thought away, she climbed back into bed, curling back into her book, trying to escape, keep her thoughts at bay.
Because she was pretty sure they would all come back to the same thing.
What The Heart Learns Page 13
