One Love for Liv

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One Love for Liv Page 9

by Marianne Arkins


  “You hungry?”

  The speed of the subject change made Liv’s head spin. Mike seemed crazy tonight, full of energy. He all but crackled with it, and Liv speculated that, with the electricity in his body, he was sure to wreak havoc with light bulbs and radios everywhere.

  “Hungry?” she repeated.

  “I told you I’d take you to dinner tonight, remember?”

  “That’s right.” She stepped out of his embrace and ran a hand over her hair, feeling self-conscious about her appearance. “Do I look all right?”

  Mike looked into her eyes for a breathless moment, then moved his gaze slowly down her body and back up again. Liv swore he was touching her with it, she could feel it on every part it passed, leaving her hot and shaky.

  “You look…” He paused, chewed his bottom lip and nodded. “Perfect.”

  She blushed, putting a hand to one cheek in surprise. She didn’t embarrass easily. “Thanks.”

  He only smiled and poked out an elbow in her direction. She picked up her handbag and slipped a hand through his elbow, letting him guide her through the door.

  “Do you like Chinese?” he asked.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Her mouth watered, thinking about Kung Pao chicken and lo mien. She hoped Mike liked his Chinese food spicy.

  “I know a great little hole-in-the-wall place. You’ll love it.” They walked to his car, parked in a prime spot out front. “Man, I hate to lose this place. Can we take your car?”

  “No!” Liv shouted the word, and then clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Mike put up both hands, palms out, surrendering. “Sorry I even asked.”

  “It’s just…” She dug around, trying to think of a valid excuse.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He dug his keys out of his jeans pocket and opened her door. She slid onto the seat and leaned over to the far side to unlock his door for him, hearing hers slam behind her.

  They drove to the restaurant in silence, and Liv had to fight to keep from lifting her hand to her lips. She wondered if their kiss showed somehow, because it had certainly made an impression on her. She’d never felt very sensual, but in one kiss, Mike made her want to throw all inhibitions to the wind and leap without looking.

  Olivia Leslie Leigh always looked before she leaped.

  She squared her shoulders and vowed to never let that happen again. She could hardly criticize Geoff for his behavior if she indulged in the same.

  Still, she drifted into a daydream, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself. It was vivid, colorful and intense.

  Mike walks into her bedroom at the condo, where she lounges on the queen-sized bed, dressed in a virginal white but brief and sexy negligee that leaves little to the imagination. She sips champagne as he walks to her, a tray of strawberries in his hand. He is wearing faded jeans, unbuttoned and hanging open so she can see just where the “V” of hair he has starting at his breast bone leads.

  He dips a strawberry into her champagne and feeds it to her, leaning in to kiss the juice from her lips. Sensation fills her body, heaviest in her belly and between her legs. She moans, low in her throat…

  “Liv?” Mike’s worried voice jumped into her dream. “Are you okay?”

  Liv blinked, once, twice. “Yes. Of course. Why?”

  “You groaned.”

  No, you idiot, I moaned. She shook her head. “I must be hungrier than I thought. Are we almost there?”

  He stared at her like she was utterly out of her mind. “We are here.”

  The car sat in a tiny lot behind an old Victorian house. She hadn’t even felt them stop. “So we are. Let’s go inside.”

  The meal was fantastic and comfortable. Liv was never sure about how things would go when she ate out, especially with someone new. Some people are self-conscious or weird about eating in front of others.

  Not Mike. Nope. He felt no compunction about spearing a chunk of Liv’s Kung Pao chicken right off of her plate without asking, something that warmed her heart for an unknown reason. She’d never had anyone eat from her plate before, and it seemed so… normal. She’d seen it happen in movies or read it in books, but the people she knew would be horrified if it happened to them.

  Liv drank hot tea and ate all the things she knew she shouldn’t—lo mein and pork fried rice—until she was stuffed. She swore she looked six months pregnant when they walked, arm in arm, out of the restaurant. She was amazed her jeans didn’t explode right off of her.

  When they got back to Mike’s complex, the spot out front was, of course, taken. He circled the block, slowing down for her Miata and whistling. “Nice set of wheels. Never seen that here before.”

  Liv’s neck grew warm and she hoped it was dark enough in the car to hide her blush. She really was a lousy liar. When he found a spot about ten feet from her car, she rolled her eyes and muttered, “Murphy’s Law.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Oh, nothing.” When the car stopped, Liv sat still for a minute, wondering if she should wait for Mike to open her door or if she should just get out. Either way, if she guessed wrong, she’d offend him. She opted to stay put, but pretended to be looking for something in her handbag, just in case she needed a reason for why she didn’t get out on her own.

  Mike circled the car and opened her door with a flourish. “Home sweet home. Even the dog wants to say hi.”

  Liv looked up mid-step and saw Spike trotting down the sidewalk, leaving a trail of drool behind. His jowls swung back and forth as he moved, and his tongue nearly touched the ground. She moved behind Mike. Despite her truce with the animal earlier, she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.

  “Hey, buddy.” Mike grabbed hold of Spike’s black studded collar and held him away from her before squatting down so he was eye-to-eye with the dog. He tipped his head to one side as if listening to something. “Need you ask? Of course I brought you a doggy bag.” He looked at Liv. “Could you get the take-out box off the front seat for me?”

  Not taking her eye off the dog, she sidled up to the car, reached in to grab the box and held it out, stiff-armed, to Mike. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” He dumped out bits of chicken, rice and noodles onto the sidewalk. While Spike inhaled the food, Mike gave him a firm pat on the back and offered Liv his arm. “All set.”

  “No wonder he expects something from me every time I come over.” Liv shivered at the cool night air and Mike put his arm around her, tucking her firmly against his hard body. She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold. “Does everyone feed him like that?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You’re lucky no one’s called animal control on you.”

  “Animal control knows about Spike. They don’t much care, since the dog never runs in the street or terrorizes anyone. He only approaches people he knows.” He rubbed the top of her head with his knuckles. “He thinks you’re his friend.”

  “Oh. Joy.”

  They reached Mike’s door without incident and he jiggled the lock and bumped it open with a whack of his hip.

  “You ever think of getting that fixed?”

  “Getting what fixed?

  Liv pointed. “The…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “So you want to head over to Daisy’s right now, or are you up for a movie before you hit the hay?”

  Warning bells went off in her head. “Mike, this is beginning to feel a little like a date.”

  “Okay, so you’d prefer going directly to Daisy’s. Works for me.”

  He bent down and picked up her bag, snatching the key for next door off the wall before stepping back through the door. “You coming?”

  She was completely confused at his avoidance of the subject, but glad she didn’t need to tell him she wasn’t available for dates. That would open up a whole new can of worms and she wasn’t ready to go down that path. Not yet. She followed him through the door.

  The key slipped into Daisy’s lock with ease and turned with a flick of Mike’s
wrist.

  “Why does her door work so well?”

  “She slept with the manager. She lubed his chassis, he greased her door.”

  “Ewww. That was way too much information.” But Liv tucked it away as potential ammunition for another conversation with a different man.

  Her cell phone rang and she dug through her bag to find it, while Mike commented, “You ever think of keeping that thing in a case?”

  She shushed him and answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Lee Lee?” It was her father.

  “Yes, Daddy?” She turned her back to Mike and wandered down the second floor sidewalk.

  “Where are you? I tried to reach you at home.”

  “I’m not at home.” She sounded rude, and that surprised her. She was never disrespectful to her father. She knew he noticed, because there was a long pause on the other end. Finally he spoke again.

  “Are you feeling all right? You’ve been acting strangely since Wednesday.”

  “I’m fine, Daddy.”

  “If you say so.” Clearly, he didn’t believe her, but wasn’t up to pursuing the matter at this time. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? I’ll have Sophie make up your old room and brew a pot of warm milk.”

  Ugh, she thought, grateful she didn’t say the word out loud. Ever since she was small, her father had thought she liked warm milk whenever she was sick. She couldn’t stand it, but didn’t have the heart to tell him. She just did her best to stay well. “No thanks, Daddy. I’m—” She glanced over her shoulder at Mike. “I’m staying with a friend.”

  “Oh?” The word was stretched to its limit. “Anyone I know?”

  “I don’t think so. Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, she flipped the phone closed and turned back to Mike.

  He leaned against the doorframe to Daisy’s place, looking a little like the Marlboro Man meets James Bond—devastatingly sexy, but rough around the edges. And forget about the martini, he’ll take whiskey, straight up and leave the bottle.

  She stopped herself from checking for drool in the corner of her mouth with a finger, but did lick her lips. Once. Who could blame her? Even when you’re on a diet, there’s no law against looking at the menu. Of course, you ran the risk of finding yourself starved and tempted to take a bite.

  Her thoughts made her blush again, and she dipped her head a bit before she approached the new object of her late-night fantasies.

  “Gee, Dad’s called every time I’ve seen you. Tugging on your leash?”

  Liv glared, his words effectively popping her little fantasy bubble. “No. I’m an only child. He worries.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m an only, too, and you don’t hear my folks calling me every night. How old are you anyway? Sixteen?”

  She smacked him in the chest and pulled her bag out of his grasp. “Twenty-five, as if it’s any of your business.” After she stepped inside she took a firm hold on the door. “Good night.”

  His expression when she closed the door firmly in his face was priceless. She grinned for a moment before deciding to head into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

  She had just brushed her teeth and unbuttoned her shirt when a knock at the door made her jump nearly out of her skin. Someone here for Daisy? She tried to remember if there was a peephole in the door. There better be, or she wasn’t answering it.

  She crept silently to the door, relieved to see a small circle two-thirds of the way up. Standing on tiptoe, she peered through.

  Mike stood just outside.

  Chapter Nine

  She remained there, undecided as to a plan of action. Should she just ignore him?

  “Liv, open up.” His voice was muffled. “I still have the key, so you can’t keep me out.”

  She made a face, remembering she hadn’t taken the blasted key out of the door before she’d slammed it. Stupid. Taking a firm handful of blouse to keep it from gaping open, she twisted the knob and opened the door a crack.

  “What do you want?”

  “There’s just one thing.” Mike put a large hand on the door and pushed it open further.

  “What’s that? The key?” Liv held out her unoccupied hand, palm up, as an invitation for him to drop the item into it.

  “Okay, two things.” He pressed the key into her hand. Then, quick as a snake strike, he grabbed it and pulled her into him. “I always end my dates with a good-night kiss.”

  Before she had time to form one coherent thought, he dove in, pulling her up onto her toes until she thought she was floating. His lips were hard and passionate. Liv whimpered a bit under their force, both repelled and attracted by the tightly leashed violence she sensed in his embrace.

  Slowly, his mood changed and the pressure eased a bit. He let go of his grip on her hand and slipped that arm around her waist, pressing her against him. She still grasped the edges of her blouse, the hand sandwiched between her breasts and held prisoner by his ribcage. She wiggled it free, wanting nothing more than to touch him.

  Her fingertips danced along his back, hesitant and unsure, but frustrated by the cotton cloth between them and his skin. Unable to think, instinct driving her every move, she pressed closer and rocked her hips against his, rewarded by a low growl in his throat. Her hand found his waistband, grabbed hold of a handful of shirt and pulled it free.

  Her skin burned when she touched his. She’d never felt so hot, so out of control. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to, just kept pressing closer, letting her tongue swirl in an erotic dance with Mike’s.

  “Man, guys, get a room.” Frank’s voice threw ice water onto Liv’s overheated body. She yanked away from Mike, blushing furiously.

  Frank and Zoe stood in the corridor, staring, and Zoe gave a little giggle. “Guess he liked the housecleaning, huh?” She grunted when Frank elbowed her side. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Thanks for your advice, Frank,” Mike said quietly, his gaze never leaving Liv. “I think we have a room right here.” He stepped into Daisy’s apartment and closed the door on their audience, stalking Liv as she backed away.

  “No. Mike.” She waved her hands frantically. “I can’t do this, I don’t—”

  Her words must have gotten through his fuzzy brain, because he stopped moving. “You don’t … what?”

  Liv pressed her suddenly icy hands to her cheeks. “I don’t sleep around. Sex isn’t casual to me. I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression.”

  Mike flopped down onto Daisy’s floral tapestry sofa. “My luck I’d find the last American virgin.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you or lead you on.” Liv backed up to the bathroom door. “You made me feel so confused and I couldn’t think… I’m sorry.” She darted into the bathroom, closed the door and locked it.

  She sat on the toilet seat, elbows on her knees, head in her hands, and cried silently for quite some time. When she didn’t think there was another ounce of liquid in her body, she stood and wet a folded washcloth with cold tap water and pressed it over her swollen eyes.

  Her first thought was that she was a complete idiot. Her second was to wonder if this was what Geoff felt when he was with Daisy, because he’d certainly never lost control of himself when he was with her. Her third thought was that she’d never be able to compete with this if it was, indeed, what Geoff felt with the other woman. Never.

  And, suddenly, she didn’t know if she wanted to.

  She heard a soft cry outside the door and glanced over in time to see a fluffy white paw reach through the crack at the bottom. It curled upward, like half of a “U”, and reached around trying to see what it could find.

  Booboo. Liv tossed the used washcloth into the sink and opened the door, assuming Mike had gone. She had no idea how long she’d been in there, but after the way she’d treated Mike—led him on and then pushed him away—she didn’t expect him to stick around.

  Booboo reclined across the threshold, and Liv bent over to pick the big baby up, cuddling him with her face pressed
into his soft fur. He purred loudly at the attention, and the vibration it made on her cheek comforted her.

  She carried him to the couch and sat down, folding her calves beneath her. She planned on sleeping out here tonight, not having the slightest desire to so much as touch the bed where Daisy and Geoff had enjoyed one another so energetically.

  With a sigh, she relaxed sideways, resting her head on the pillow, one hand idly stroking the cat. She was half asleep when she felt a blanket tucked around her. Dozy, she cracked open an eye. It was Mike.

  “You’re still here,” she murmured, wondering if it was a dream.

  “I’m leaving now. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.” He pushed her hair out of her face with gentle fingers. “Sleep well, Livvy.” She wondered at the bittersweet smile on his face, but was too exhausted to comment. She just made a soft noise in her throat and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  *

  Who would be using a jackhammer this early in the morning? Liv pulled a pillow over her head to hide the sound and tried to roll over in bed, but there was a twenty-pound weight on her chest. She swatted at it and hit fur.

  Her eyes flew open. Booboo was curled up on top of her, purring so loud she wondered if the walls were shaking. Her limbs felt like they were made of lead, so she laid still and closed her eyes, hoping to fall back asleep.

  It didn’t work. The moment Booboo knew she was awake, he crawled up to her face and patted her cheek with a soft paw.

  “You hungry?” Liv tried to focus on the white blob that was an inch from her eyes. “I forgot to feed you last night.”

  With a meow, the cat jumped down. Liv stretched and stood up, twisting her torso a few times to work out the kinks in her back. Daisy’s couch might look good, but it wasn’t the best place to take a snooze.

  She stumbled into the kitchen and found the can of cat food on the counter, opened it and dumped it onto a plate for Booboo. Torn between a shower or coffee—and she really hoped Daisy had coffee in here somewhere—she opted for a shower first, since she had a seriously full bladder screaming for attention.

 

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