“Hey, sweet pea.” Mr. Laurence wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the temple before pulling back. “This him?” He looked at Liam.
“This is him.” Harper nodded.
Liam stepped forward, sticking his now free hand in front of him as he moved. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Laurence.”
Mr. Laurence’s hand tightened as he shook Liam’s firmly. “So you’re my daughter’s new boyfriend.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hmm.” Mr. Laurence’s eyes looked Liam over again, for a good couple of seconds that almost—almost—made Liam squirm. “Well, all right then. You can call me Paul. No need for this sir or mister nonsense. You want a gin and tonic?” he asked, letting go of Liam’s hand as the corner of his mouth twitched, the only indication that he might possibly be okay with how things were.
Or maybe was somewhere in the realm of being okay. He was apparently accepting enough to make him a drink.
The sudden shift had Liam coming up short, but he recovered almost instantly. “Absolutely,” he said, and nodded.
Liam grabbed the bag on the chair, slipping the strap on his shoulder. And then he was reaching for Harper’s hand—a hand that she was holding out for him as she gave him a sideways smirk—and they walked to the kitchen, following behind Paul.
“Well, that’s one hurdle down,” he whispered to her.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sparky. The next one is going to be about as easy as clearing the Empire State Building,” she said right before they walked into the kitchen.
Delilah Laurence was at the oven, pulling a pan out and setting it on top of the stove. All Liam could see was the back of her, the same thick black curtain of hair as Harper’s hitting her right between the shoulder blades. She was just a tad bit shorter and more slender than her daughter, but as she turned and he saw her face, the relationship was obvious.
Same full lips and almond-shaped eyes, though hers were a light blue as opposed to the violet that Harper and her father shared.
“Ahh, you’re here.” Mrs. Laurence pulled the oven mitts from her hands as she crossed the room, setting them on the kitchen island before she untied her apron and put it on the counter as well.
“Mom, this is Liam.”
“Mrs. Laurence.” He nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Harper’s mother folded her arms across her chest as she looked him over. The scrutiny in her eyes well surpassed what he’d been through just moments before with Paul. “So you’re the father of my first grandchild?”
Well, she was just going to jump right on in now, wasn’t she?
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, still implementing his don’t look away strategy. It was like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.
“Harper says I need to give you a chance, so I’m going to.”
“I won’t disappoint you, Mrs. Laurence.”
“Good.” That one word was dripping in skepticism. The we’ll just see about that heard loud and clear by everyone in the room.
All right. He could deal with this. He wasn’t going to cower. He refused. Getting her approval was an obstacle he needed to figure out, and he would. There wasn’t any other option, because in the end he was going to be with Harper.
“I brought you and Mr. Laurence something for having me over tonight,” Liam said, holding up the bag in his hand. He might as well start with presents.
“Paul,” Mr. Laurence corrected while Mrs. Laurence said nothing.
She had no problems with ma’am or missus. He apparently would not be calling her Delilah anytime soon.
“Harper told me you were the family chef and an excellent one at that,” Liam said as he pulled out the square box from the bag. It was about one foot by one foot, four inches tall, and made of solid wood.
Mrs. Laurence’s eyes widened in surprise; she apparently hadn’t expected him to come bearing gifts.
One point to him.
She set the box on the counter, pushing back the metal hook that kept the box latched, and lifted the top. Inside sat three separate trays stacked on top of each other, each sectioning off sixteen different tins of spices. So forty-eight in total.
“They’re specialty spices from this shop in Nashville. They blend all of them and grow most of them. They have hundreds so I tried to get you a good assortment.”
Mrs. Laurence lifted one of the tins, popping the top and inhaling deep. She repeated the process a few times, exploring the different aromas. Liam totally got it. He’d spent hours in the little shop trying to figure out which ones to buy the first time he’d shopped there. And the second. And the third. Okay, every time.
He’d called the owners a week ago to put the box together, and they’d shipped it to him in California.
Mrs. Laurence put all of the tins back in the box before she ran her hands across the smooth top of the cherry-stained wood. Her fingers traced the embossed company logo branded into the wood before she looked up at Liam, a warmth in her eyes that definitely had not been there just moments before. “Thank you. This was very thoughtful.”
Okay, maybe five points to him.
“You’re welcome. They’re my favorite spices to cook with, so I thought you might enjoy them.”
She nodded, running her hand across the top again, almost reverently.
“And this is for you,” Liam said as he pulled out another box and handed it over to Paul.
“Well I’ll be. Two gifts.” Another twitch to Paul’s mouth that almost, almost, looked like a smile.
He pulled off the top of the box to reveal the parts of a handmade fly fishing rod that was—in Liam’s humble opinion—one of the best. “It’s a Flanagan. Harper said that you were a fisherman on your off time.”
“You fish, too?” Paul asked.
“Yes, and that’s the same one that my brother, father, and I use.”
“This is…impressive.” Paul looked back down at the rod in his hand, examining it further. “You bring yours?” He brought his gaze back up to Liam’s.
“Don’t leave home without it.”
“You and I are going to go fishing sometime. We can catch something for Delilah to use her fancy new spices on. That sound good to you?”
“Sounds perfect.”
And just like that Paul’s mouth split into a grin.
One parent down. One to go.
* * *
Harper was in a daze throughout all of dinner. How could she not be? She’d been shocked pretty much the second she and Liam had walked into her parents’ house.
Not only had the man brought gifts. But he’d gotten the most personal gifts of…well…ever.
The thing that really got to her? He’d known what to get from something she’d said months ago. When Liam had made her dinner in Nashville, she’d mentioned that her mother loved to cook and that her father fished.
And he’d remembered.
He’d freaking remembered.
Liam had won Paul over, something she’d noticed pretty quickly. She also knew it had more to do with how Liam was with her than from that fishing rod. Though the rod hadn’t hurt in Liam’s endeavors.
As for her mother, well, that was going to take a little bit more time. But he was making pretty good progress with her, considering it was only the first night.
They left just before eight thirty, laden with multiple Tupperware containers filled with roast beef, mashed potatoes, grilled zucchini, and apple pie. Luna lay in Liam’s lap during the five-minute ride to her house, him scratching her belly as she lay on her back entirely blissed out at his attention.
Harper pulled up in front of her apartment building and put her Cruiser into Park. Liam’s gaze focused on the building in front of them where about thirty little apartments were stacked three high and ten across on ten-foot-high pylons. The sun was setting over the beach that stretched out behind it.
“So this is home,” she said as a sudden wave of nerves overtook her. She knew what was going to happen when they went i
nside and she was both excited and maybe just a little bit scared. “It’s kind of small, but I wanted to live on the water and the options in my budget are somewhat limited.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect. Lead the way.”
Harper grabbed the food while Liam got his bags. Luna was on a retractable leash, and she walked over as far as it would stretch to a patch of grass next to the parking lot. She did her business before walking over to the stairs and waiting for Liam and Harper.
Liam followed behind Harper and Luna as they made their way up the three flights of stairs. The entire time all she was thinking about was the fact that he could probably see right up the skirt of her dress.
Good thing she was wearing sexy panties, because…well…obviously. He was probably going to be seeing them in a matter of minutes.
Oh, would you look at that her palms were sweating, so much so that she dropped her keys when they got to the door. After a good ten seconds of fumbling with them she managed to get them in the lock.
When they walked inside, Harper let Luna off the leash—who immediately headed for the back bedroom to most likely put herself to bed—before heading for the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Bags hit the ground and Harper was fully aware of Liam’s boots as they walked around the hardwood floors of her apartment, taking everything in.
The walls were a light green, soft enough to not overpower other things in the room while bringing in the tones from random accents like the painting above her TV and the floral pillows on her overstuffed gray couch.
Two bookshelves took up the corner in the right filled with books, random knickknacks, and picture frames. The shag rug on the floor was salmon—another color pulled from the painting and the pillows—and teal curtains hung from the window on the other side of the TV.
The only thing separating the living room from the kitchen was a bar. Two backless stools sat in front of it, and on the far right side a variety of mismatched and beyond varied wineglasses—that she hadn’t used in months—hung from little brackets attached to the cabinets above.
More light filled the rooms as Harper flipped a switch in the kitchen, heading for the refrigerator in the corner. Her kitchen was small with bright lemon yellow walls that she painted herself because she loved the way they popped with the black and white tiles that covered the counters.
It had taken her months to figure out the right feel to the kitchen. The perfect find? An antique cherry wood table, with four matching chairs, that sat in front of the white French doors. More teal curtains were in here, pulled to each side and tied back with a yellow sash that matched the walls in the kitchen. On the other side of the doors was a back deck that overlooked the water.
That was where she spent most of her evenings, her feet propped up on the railing as she watched the sunset. Small space or not, she’d made it her own…made it her home. And now Liam was in it.
He was here.
Harper pulled away from the refrigerator, closing it behind her as she headed for the living room. Liam was standing in the middle of the room and filling it in only the way that he could.
“I like it.” He nodded, still looking around. “It feels like you.”
“Yeah?” she asked as she leaned against the door frame, fiddling with the ring on her finger. Spinning it ’round and ’round.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good. Because that’s your bed.” She let go of the ring as she pointed to the sofa. “In the spirit of appeasing my mother and all with separate sleeping arrangements.”
To be honest, Harper was beyond shocked that her mother hadn’t brought that subject up again before they’d left for the night. Didn’t matter that she’d embargoed certain topics from her mother earlier before picking Liam up from the airport. Another off-limit topic was marriage or discussion of the future. If Harper and Liam hadn’t discussed it yet, it wasn’t going to be brought up over dinner.
Nor would it be discussed now for that matter. Liam’s eyes narrowed and the banked heat that had been simmering since she’d picked him up from the airport blazed over in an instant.
“You know,” he said as he stalked toward her, shrinking the space between them, “getting your mother’s approval means a lot to me. But I’m going to tell you right now, being in the same town as you and not being in your bed would be beyond difficult for me. But being under the same roof? Impossible.”
He was right in front of her, the smell of his cologne overwhelming her in an instant.
It was a scent that she’d been dreaming of since the last time she’d seen him. A scent that had filled her head the entire time they’d spent in the car. A scent that had her heart beating fast and her head swimming in the best kind of way.
One of his hands went to her waist and was now sliding around to the small of her back as he pulled her from the wall and right up against him. Her hands went to his hips, an attempt to steady herself, but her hands on his body was a surefire way to get her entirely unsteady. Add to that the fact that he was pressed up against her.
And there went touch. It belonged to him as well.
“That so?” she somehow managed to ask as she looked up at him.
“Honey.” His voice dropped low when he said honey. That one word filling her ears and moving to her chest before it spread through her entire body. “The only person who is going to stop me from finally waking up next to you tomorrow morning is you.”
Bye, bye hearing. It was his.
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. Do you want separate sleeping arrangements?” His voice somehow dropped even lower with the last question and the words vibrated through her.
“No.” She shook her head.
“And what do you want?” He moved so that their faces were only inches apart. His green-gold eyes were all that she saw, taking over her sight as well.
Such an easy answer. “You.”
“Good.” And just like that his mouth was on hers and she was opening up for him immediately, needing his taste on her tongue.
He’d taken over all of her senses. She was gone. He owned her. But she’d already known that. Had known that when she’d first met him.
“I need you, Liam,” she whispered against his mouth.
“You got me. Now where’s your bedroom?”
Chapter Thirteen
Promise?
Liam followed behind Harper, his hand firmly in hers, as she led him to her bedroom. There were more French doors in here as well, and a quick glance showed they led out to the same back deck as the ones in the dining room. The setting sun filled the space with a warm light.
Pinks, reds, and oranges streamed through the glass panes and reflected on the walls. Besides the queen bed, that was the only thing Liam took in as his gaze was now fixed solely on the woman in front of him.
Good Lord she was stunning.
His hands were on her body again, moving up and down her sides as he pressed his lips to hers. And then he got to that spot under her ear, opening his mouth over that patch of freckles that he loved to taste so damn much.
“I don’t understand it.” Harper gasped, her hands fisting in his shirt.
“Understand what?” He moved his lips down and across her jaw, kissing every spot he could get to.
“I feel like I’ve been missing this for years. Missing you for years.”
He pulled back, his hands going to the back of her head, his fingers spearing through her hair. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I missed you even before I met you.”
She gasped at his words, her hands tightening at his sides. “You never cease to amaze me, Liam James.”
“And I’m never going to stop.”
“Promise?”
“I swear.” He moved one of his hands down through her hair, pulling his fingers through the strands as he traced her spine. “I got you a little something, too, you know.”
“You what?”
“A gift. I couldn’t help myself. I
saw it and I knew I needed to see it on you.” He reached for his front pocket, fishing out the necklace that he’d dropped in there only moments before.
He pulled his hand up, the delicate silver chain dangling from his finger. The pendant at the end swayed back and forth, the amethyst stone and the ring of tiny diamonds that surrounded it catching in the sunlight that streamed through the open windows.
Another gasp escaped Harper’s mouth as her eyes moved from the necklace to him. “It’s beautiful.”
“Of course it is; it matches your eyes. Now turn around.”
She did so, gathering her hair to the side as he unclasped the chain and looped it around her throat. When it was in place he leaned forward, kissing the back of her neck. She dropped her hair as she spun to face him again.
“Thank you.” She reached up, fingering the pendant. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
“You’re wrong there, honey. You’re giving me the greatest gift of all.” He reached out, his palm going flat on her belly. “This baby.”
“Liam.” She stretched up, pressing her mouth to his.
“I don’t want anything else,” he whispered against her lips. “Well, besides seeing you wearing nothing besides that necklace, that is.”
“I think that can be very easily arranged.”
“Good.” But he knew for a fact that as soon as he started to strip Harper out of her clothes he was going to be good and fully distracted, so he started to undress first.
He reached behind him, grabbing a fistful of shirt and pulling it over his head as he kicked off his boots. But before he could reach for his belt, Harper’s hands were there, sliding the buckle out and pulling down the zipper of his jeans.
He needed his mouth on her, and the second his lips brushed over her neck she let out a soft sigh, her body melting into his. And just like that he got a little waylaid from his mission, and it didn’t help that Harper was now pressing herself firmly into his erection.
Focus, man. Pull it together.
He reached up, palming one of her breasts and she cried out as her body stiffened.
Unsung Page 17
