Lost in You

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Lost in You Page 23

by Jules Bennett


  Pushing everything aside—the party, Liam, her own doubts and fears—Macy pulled next to the SUV and killed the engine. There was a little girl who needed comforting right now and Macy was more than ready to show her all the love.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Liam had purposely stayed away from Macy for a couple days. He needed to think, get some space so he could figure out what he truly wanted.

  He’d taken a few hours away from the resort and gone to Magnolias to speak to Mark. They’d agreed on a very reasonable price and Liam wouldn’t even have to finance the entire cost.

  But there was still that opportunity here in Haven . . . and he didn’t mean connecting with Macy. So many factors weighed on his decision. So many things he never even knew he wanted, never thought a possibility.

  Since he hadn’t seen her for a few days, he was anxious to get to her place. But she was out picking up a little girl and this would change the dynamics of everything. Liam hadn’t thought about a family of his own; that was one of the things he’d automatically dismissed. But he was here now, and he would give Macy the support she needed.

  Liam entered Macy’s garage using the code, then hit the button to send the door back down. Whatever she’d killed in the kitchen had permeated the garage. How did someone destroy so many mac ’n cheese bites? The image she’d sent him had him laughing, but at the same time, how the hell? Seriously. The recipe wasn’t difficult. She’d made his mother’s dumplings, for pity’s sake, and she managed to murder these simple bites?

  The moment he stepped into the kitchen, he groaned. Yeah. These were for the garbage. He doubted even the neighborhood dogs would want them. Hell, Zach’s pups would snub their noses at the hockey pucks.

  Liam cleaned up her mess. Clearly she’d been in a hurry to get out the door. She had bowls in the sink, pans with half-burnt cheese on them lying on the counter, wax paper cemeteries for the bites, and boxes of pasta all over. Just looking at the mess made him twitch. He thrived on a clean work environment. Besides the fact that professional kitchens had health codes to follow, Liam couldn’t handle an untidy work space.

  As he tossed the mess, wiped off her counters, and started searching for more ingredients to get the party food made up, his mind remained on Macy and the little girl she was bringing home. He remembered when he’d first been sent into foster care. The unknowns terrified him, and perhaps rightly so, considering what had happened to him.

  But the system wasn’t always so dark. There were wonderful families out there, amazing people who selflessly took children into their homes and loved them. The Monroes, Zach and Sophie, and now Macy.

  Liam put water on to boil for more of the pasta. He couldn’t even imagine the anticipation Macy must be feeling. He kept waiting to hear her garage door go up, for her to walk in with a little girl.

  Should he even be here? Would seeing him scare the girl? Who knew what type of home life she came from and if she was afraid of men?

  Doubts had Liam turning off the burner and tossing the water. He’d make these up at home in no time. He’d already smoked the pork for the sliders, the cupcakes only needed to be iced, and Macy had texted him to say she’d managed the nonbaking finger foods just fine. So they were on track for now.

  Damn it. He was running again. There was no way of getting around the truth. He was afraid to stay here, afraid he’d scare the little girl, afraid he’d feel too much like he was waiting on a family to come home . . . his family.

  Liam raked a hand through his hair and started toward the front door, but froze as the soft whir of the garage door started. Well, there was no leaving now.

  Pulling in a deep breath, Liam attempted to shove aside his jumbled up thoughts as he waited for the door leading from the garage to the kitchen to open. He sincerely hoped the little girl didn’t come from a home where she’d been mistreated by a man . . . or anyone for that matter. He just didn’t want to scare her.

  Especially with his scar. Damn it. When Macy had told him she was bringing a little one back, he should’ve gone home right then. This wasn’t his place. He and Macy weren’t . . .

  What? They were sleeping together, she’d opened up and trusted him more than anyone, and she’d admitted to falling for him. If he were on the outside looking in, he’d damn well say this was a committed relationship. But, wait, hadn’t they agreed to keep this just physical while he was here?

  When had this developed into something more?

  Macy’s soft voice filtered in seconds before the door eased open. Liam braced himself. He didn’t know what he expected, but Macy carrying in an infant in her footed pajamas wasn’t it.

  The little girl with short, curly blond hair clutched a stuffed dog in one hand and sucked the thumb on her other hand. Macy turned to close the door, then met his gaze over the top of the girl’s messy bed head.

  “Hey.” She smiled. “Can you stay here for a bit? I just want to show her to her room and get her settled. She’s . . . she’s had a rough night.”

  Macy’s voice caught on the last word and there was no way in hell he was going anywhere. She couldn’t do this alone. Her father was out back in his apartment, but Macy wanted Liam. Another click locked into place. Was this where he should be?

  He nodded, ignoring the lump of emotion in his throat. “I’ll be here.”

  As Macy headed down the hall, the girl’s bright eyes met his. He kept his marred side turned away, but offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

  He figured Macy would be a while and he needed to concentrate on something he could control. Cooking had always done that for him.

  Once again, he started up some water to begin on the mac ’n cheese recipe. The party was still going on tomorrow, so he needed to step up and finish the food so she wouldn’t have to. He could also whip up something for her so she didn’t have to worry about breakfast, too. Hopefully she had the right ingredients.

  Nearly an hour later, with mac ’n cheese bites in the oven, he managed to find what he needed to make some homemade cinnamon rolls. Surely a toddler would eat those, right? He knew absolutely nothing about children, but food tended to bring people together. Bonds were made in kitchens, around dining tables. He couldn’t do much, but he could at least try something.

  He’d just pulled one pan out of the oven and slid another one in when Macy came into the kitchen, with red-rimmed eyes and a quivering chin. Liam forgot everything he was in the midst of and crossed the wide kitchen. She fell into his arms, gripping his shirt as she sobbed. There wasn’t much he could do for her. He had no idea what she was dealing with, but if she needed to lean on someone, he wasn’t about to let anyone else take his place.

  He rubbed his hands up and down her back, rested his chin on top of her head. Her shoulders shook as she tried to keep her crying under control, but he wished she’d just cut loose. If she needed to break, he’d gladly pick up the pieces.

  “I’m sorry.” She eased back, shaking her hair away from her face. “This was all more than I’d thought.”

  Liam used his thumbs to swipe away the moisture on her face. “Don’t apologize for caring for a child, Macy. She’s lucky to have you.”

  Macy nodded. “I’m just sorry I soaked your shirt.”

  “It will dry.” He bent his knees, angled his head to look her in the eye. “Want to tell me about it, or do you want to go to bed and I’ll finish in here?”

  She blinked, peered over his shoulder to the island. “You’ve been busy.”

  “I needed to distract myself and you needed help.”

  She let out a laugh. “It was pretty bad in here earlier. But I’m okay. I couldn’t go to bed now if I tried.”

  When she shifted around him, Liam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. She was wound so tightly, she needed to relax.

  “Why don’t you take a seat at the counter and let me do the rest,” he suggested. “I’m working on some cinnamon rolls for your breakfast so you won’t have to worry abo
ut what you two will eat.”

  Oh, no. That chin started quivering once again. Tears filled her eyes.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  With a shrug, he moved to the oven to check on the bites. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to and I knew you’d probably open one of those nasty cans of biscuits or something. I couldn’t let you do that.”

  “Actually, I would’ve done Pop-Tarts.”

  Liam cringed as he stood back up, resting his hand on the edge of the counter. Even with her puffy eyes, the red splotches on a face void of makeup, Macy was absolutely breathtaking. She wouldn’t believe him if he told her now, but she was perfect. Beauty was seriously found on the inside, something he’d learned from his mother and the Monroes. Macy let her beauty flow freely in the way she felt so deeply for others.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, her brows drawn in.

  Liam smiled. “Because I can. Now take a seat and talk to me while I work. Talk about tonight, the party tomorrow, the store. Anything.”

  Silence settled into the room as he wiped off the island, then sprinkled a light coating of flour onto the surface so he could roll and cut the cinnamon rolls.

  “Her name is Lucy. She’s precious.” As she talked Macy flattened her palms on the counter in front of where he was working. Her eyes focused down on the dough he worked. “She clutched that dog and just kept saying ‘Mom.’”

  Liam’s heart ached for that little girl. He’d been young when his mother died, but not that young.

  “And all I could think of was how you must’ve felt,” she went on. “Lucy’s mom was single, no siblings. There’s a grandmother who lives in Texas, but she hasn’t had contact with Lucy since she was born. She has no one, Liam.”

  Macy pulled in a shaky breath. “Lucy’s mom was killed in a car accident on her way home from a job interview while Lucy was at the neighbor’s house.”

  Liam froze. His hands gripped the dough, his heart clenched. That feeling of isolation, of abandonment, came rushing back. The crippling emotions were always hovering, ready to surface at a moment’s notice.

  Liam knew this little girl was young enough to move past the pain because she didn’t fully understand, but at the same time, she’d always feel that void, the heartache.

  He attempted to roll the dough again, trying to stay strong for Macy, for Lucy.

  “You don’t have to do all this,” Macy added. “Just you staying here was enough. And helping with the party. I just couldn’t be alone after I got her, and I needed you and—”

  “It’s okay.” He quickly smoothed the dough and lathered on the cinnamon filling before making a roll to slice. “I want to be here. You can lean on me anytime.”

  “Do you mean that?” she whispered.

  He risked a quick look in her direction and was met with her bright blue eyes. She wanted answers. Hell, she deserved answers.

  “Is now the time to get into this?” he asked. “We’re both pretty raw. Let’s just get through this next week with your party and the wedding.”

  Macy shifted in her seat. “If you know when you’re leaving, then just say it. I don’t want you here out of obligation, or even pity.”

  Damn it. He hadn’t meant to start an argument or hurt her even more, but at the same time, he knew if they started this entire conversation, more hurtful things could be said. He wasn’t ready to commit to anything, and wasn’t offering promises he couldn’t fulfill.

  “I’m not here out of pity.”

  He concentrated on placing the rolls on the pan, then switched out the bites in the oven for the pastries. When he turned back to face her, he propped his hands on his hips and shook his head. Looks like they were getting into this after all.

  “I’m here because we’re friends.”

  Macy laughed. “Right. Friends until you leave. But we’ve pushed the friendship boundary, don’t you think? And I’m not just talking sex.”

  This is why he never did relationships. He had no idea how to communicate without sounding like a complete bastard. Rubbing the back of his neck, Liam struggled to pull words together in some pathetic attempt to smooth this issue out.

  The only way to get her to understand was to come completely clean with a past that humiliated and shamed him. “After my mother died I was sent to a foster home where I was beaten.” When his eyes widened, her mouth dropped. He pushed on. He had to get this out, to make her realize exactly why getting too close terrified him. “Not by the parents, though they were enablers and just as guilty. Their son decided I was an easy target, and at the time, I was.”

  Macy sat forward, her hands covering her face, elbows on the bar. “Please. Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “I’m doing it for you.” He came around the island, leaned against the edge, and pried her hands away from her face. “We all have our own levels of hell, Macy. You want to understand why I can’t give you everything you want?”

  With his fingers around her wrists, she fisted her hands and kept her eyes focused on him. Liam didn’t let go, didn’t give her a chance to turn away again.

  “I learned to fight back,” he went on, recalling the first time he’d had to defend himself. “I was punished and sent to my room for hitting their precious son. But that didn’t stop me. I wasn’t about to be a victim again. I was there for too long, long enough to become hardened, cold. By the time the Monroes adopted me, I was pretty bitter.”

  “And you were put into a house with three other kids, two being boys.”

  Liam nodded. “Exactly. Zach and I just didn’t hit it off to begin with. We were both so angry and it was easy to take it out on each other. Braxton and Chelsea always attempted to bridge the divide, but rarely did that work. It was best that Zach and I stayed in our separate corners.”

  Liam hadn’t recognized the fact that Zach was hurting just as much, but they’d been kids, and like most preteens and teens, they’d been self-absorbed.

  “Then when our parents passed, it was just the four of us. Zach and I attempted to be civil, then the accident happened.” The accident that left him scarred, Sophie with a limp, and Zach in prison for a year. “Life had dealt blow after blow and I was done. So to take control, I just left. I pushed everyone aside and got the hell out of Haven. This town, just being here, reminds me of everything I’ve ever had taken away.”

  Macy chewed on her bottom lip, the habit he knew she did when her nerves kicked in. Slowly, he released her wrists, but didn’t step back.

  “Do you get what I’m saying?” he asked, hoping the shortened version of his life made sense to her.

  With a slight nod, she eased down from her bar stool, causing him to move out of her way. “Yeah, I get it. You’re trying to prove to me that you don’t do relationships, and I see why, but at this point, I’d think you’d want to take back control. You say you wanted it, that’s why you left, but you’re just as hell-bent on leaving now.”

  Was he? He was so damn confused. He wanted it all. He wanted Magnolias, he wanted Macy, he wanted to help his family and push forward with the success that was Chelsea’s dream.

  “I was given the opportunity to buy Magnolias,” he told her. “It’s the move I’ve always wanted to make.”

  Biting the inside of her cheek, Macy glanced down to her lap, then back up. “Then you should go. If that’s what will make you happy. You knew you wouldn’t be staying here, so . . . yeah. You should go and live your dream.”

  That was it? She thought he should take this chance?

  Liam eased back and blew out a breath. “I haven’t fully decided yet. I told Braxton and Zach, but Cora and Sophie don’t know.”

  With a shrug, Macy brought her eyes up to his. A soft smile formed around her mouth. “This is what you’ve worked so hard for. If you’re waiting for a blessing from me, you have it.”

  She kept her voice so steady, her eyes never wavering. He wasn’t sure what to say at this point. He’d expected . . . what? Did he want h
er to beg him to stay? Maybe. But at the same time, being passive-aggressive wasn’t his style, either.

  “Something is holding you back or you would’ve left by now,” she added. Resting her elbow on the bar, she propped her head up on her fist. “You’re torn over the resort, right? What Chelsea would think?”

  That wasn’t the only female he was concerned about.

  “Honestly, I think she’d tell me to follow my dream.” Too damn bad that lately his dreams had become hazy and he couldn’t see them so clearly anymore. “Working at Magnolias for years only made me want more. I would leave every night knowing that one day I’d have—”

  The cry booming through the baby monitor on the counter scared the hell out of him. That was definitely a noise he wasn’t used to.

  Macy jerked up from her seat. Liam spun around as she rushed by him. He debated for a half second if he should follow her, but he remained in the kitchen. Her soft murmurs filled the quiet space as the monitor picked up everything. The baby’s cries calmed and Macy continued to speak in a soothing way. Then she began to sing and Liam had an instant flashback of his own mother singing to him.

  Macy brought on so many conflicted emotions inside him. Was it any wonder he couldn’t get a grip on anything in his own life lately?

  Here he’d been feeling sorry for himself, ruminating and obsessing on what the hell he should do, when there was a little girl whose entire life had just been ripped apart. Not only that, but he’d only added to Macy’s stress.

  “I need to settle her back in bed.” Macy stood at the end of the hallway, the little girl wrapped in her arms. Poor thing still clutched her stuffed animal. “Just set the alarm on your way out.”

  And just like that, he’d been dismissed. Yes, she had more pressing matters, but she hadn’t asked him to wait this time. Hadn’t said they could talk later. Clearly their conversation, half-assed as it was, had come to an end.

 

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