by K. K. Allen
We shared similar taste in music. Seconds after getting into my old red Honda Accord, Liam managed to find a Panic at the Disco CD and started playing it. Not only that but he mouthed the words, not messing up a single lyric as he went. I would be lying if I said the perfect synchronization of his lips to the words didn’t intrigue me.
He was a stranger, but he didn’t feel like one. I found something comforting about his presence when nothing had felt comfortable at all lately. Perhaps it was the calm that surrounded him, even in our most awkward meetings. Maybe it was that crooked hint of a smile that never seemed to leave his face. Maybe the fact that he was a stranger was what comforted me most of all.
In all my years living in Providence, I’d been surrounded by the same friends, family, and schoolmates. It was like a little bubble that had, in ways, sheltered me from the outside world, and it was only now that I was beginning to realize how isolated my life had been.
My parents had never taken me on any big vacations, mostly because they felt like I should be in school or they were taking an anniversary trip and wanted to be alone. While my parents loved me plenty, I knew that if I wanted adventure, I would have to make my own. One day I will, I kept telling myself.
I parked along the curb on Westminster Street in front of a row of restaurants. “We’re here,” I sang out and exited my car. When I reached the sidewalk, Liam was already outside spinning slowly on his heels and taking in the sights.
I was aware of the pleasing aesthetics the bustling cityscape held. Set upon the walkable riverfront at Waterplace Park, historic landmarks, and flourishing greenery, my city was as beautiful as it got in the US, and Liam appeared to recognize that.
“You okay there, buddy?” I teased as his gaze wandered over the dome-shaped architecture of the state capitol building.
He turned his head toward me, his brows bunching in the middle. “Yeah, why?”
I bit the inside of my lip. “You look like Ariel from The Little Mermaid when she poked her head out from under the sea.”
He shook his head as if to say he didn’t understand the reference.
My jaw dropped. “You’ve never seen The Little Mermaid? The story of the mermaid who made a deal with the sea witch to give up her voice so she could turn into a human and fall in love with the hunky prince?” I laughed at my description of my favorite Disney movie. When Liam still looked confused, I shook my head and placed my hands on my hips. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
“If this movie is anything like your book collection, I’m happy to try it out.” His crooked smile broadened, creating a flurry of activity in my chest.
With a roll of my eyes, I placed a palm at his back and nudged him forward. “Forget I said anything.”
We walked while I pointed out each restaurant and gave him an idea of what he would find on the menu, but he shook his head at everything until we arrived at a coal-fired pizza joint on Westminster Street.
“Good choice.” I smiled and walked through the door he held open for me.
I was in heaven the second he opened the door. The corner building was brightly lit and spacious, with fresh Italian seasonings scenting the air. It was one of my favorite places in all of Providence to go for lunch. So much so that I used to bring my homework and request a quiet spot in the corner where I would sit for hours.
“How about a booth over there?” I suggested to Liam.
He just nodded casually, and I turned to smile at the woman standing at the host stand. The woman nodded to my request and showed us to our table.
Liam ordered a beer, and I asked for their house pinot grigio. Once our waitress was gone, I started to worry Liam and I wouldn’t have anything to talk about. It wasn’t like me to invite strangers to lunch. Especially mysterious strangers from foreign countries. And I hoped he wouldn’t assume there was more behind my invitation.
“So, Chelsea...” He hesitated, and I assumed he was reaching for my last name.
“Banks.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Cute.”
My cheeks heated, and I didn’t know why. Clearly, Liam was a flirt. I also got the impression that he was trouble, and I didn’t just get that impression from his ink-covered arms and that cocky smile he loved to use. The fact that he’d come to stay at Simon and Bridget’s without them being home said a lot. It said that he’d been in a hurry and couldn’t wait another week for them to arrive. But why? Had he done something? Was someone trying to hurt him? Crazy thoughts raced through my mind until he spoke again.
“So, Chelsea Banks, certainly nannying doesn’t take up all your time. Are you in school?”
“I was.” I debated how much I should tell him in those next few moments of silence then realized I had nothing to lose telling a stranger the truth. He wouldn’t be sticking around much longer, and it would feel nice to just talk about it for once. “I was in the middle of obtaining my doctorate when I dropped out a couple months ago.”
Liam’s brows ticked up with curiosity. “This sounds like an interesting story.”
I felt my cheeks heat again. “It’s not that interesting. I was good at school, and I kept at it because I thought eventually I’d figure out what I wanted to do with my degrees. Since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to work with kids as an educator in some fashion. But when I started taking the classes, I realized I didn’t want to be stuck in a classroom all day. So I kept trying to figure out what direction I should take until I realized education wasn’t what I wanted to do at all.”
“But you still want to nanny?”
I nodded without an ounce of hesitation. The one thing I knew I was doing right with my time was caring for the Hogues’ kids. “Yes, definitely. It’s one of those jobs that doesn’t feel like work to me at all. I’ve gotten quite attached to those kids in just a couple of months, and it leaves me time to work on other things.”
“Like?”
I didn’t mind telling Liam about dropping out of school, but I felt a little queasy at the thought of confessing my passion for writing. “I dabble in the arts. In, um, writing.”
“What do you write?”
His question was so simple, yet it only pulled me deeper into the dark bubble I’d holed up in ever since I’d drafted my first book. I was days away from sending it to my editor. With zero books published and a new idea for a story currently running rampant in my mind, it all just felt like a silly dream, one I had no idea on earth how to make come true.
“You know what? It’s all very new, and I’m not ready to talk about it, if that’s okay.”
He didn’t pry. He didn’t make me feel bad about objecting to sharing. He simply shrugged and leaned back in his seat before grabbing the menu and checking out the options. I let out a long, slow breath, feeling grateful for the reprieve, knowing I couldn’t go my entire life avoiding the conversation. Not only did I fear my own dreams, but I feared what would happen if I continued to keep silent.
“So, you’re the best friend’s little brother?” I asked with a smile, trying desperately to find a new topic of conversation.
Liam lifted his eyes from the menu and nodded. “That’s me. Simon and my brother, Blake, were very close.”
Confusion twisted my features. “Were? Is that not the case anymore?” I hoped I didn’t sound like I was prying.
Liam set down his menu, his eyes softening. “Blake died in a horrible boating accident years ago. Simon was with him when it happened. I was fourteen.”
Dread sank into my gut. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Liam picked up his menu again and returned to scanning it.
Once again, I was at a loss for conversation, but my eyes were still curious as they traveled the length of his arm. The intricate designs seemed to blend together, but the closer I looked, the more I understood where one tattoo ended and another began. Suddenly, I wished I could go back in time and get another glimpse of Liam’s bare skin. I would pay mo
re attention to the art, to what each piece looked like. Maybe I would learn a bit more about the mystery that was Liam, whose last name I still did not know. Then my eyes caught on his brother’s name written in script font on his bicep.
“Who designed your tattoos?”
Liam’s sideways grin appeared again, allowing me to breathe a bit easier. I was back in safe conversation territory. “Me. I dabble in the arts too.”
And with that fact, I might have developed a bit of a crush on the boy from the other side of the pond.
“Do you have any?” he asked without looking up.
I was still pondering my new crush when he asked the question. It took me a minute to realize what he was asking. “Um, oh.” He was talking about tattoos. “No, not yet. I haven’t figured out what I’d want to commit to forever.”
He nodded. “I guess it’s a big decision.”
“Wasn’t it for you?”
He thought about my question for a second, then he shook his head. “Nah. Ink might be the only form of commitment I’m okay with.” Then he shrugged and quirked his lips before adopting an embellished Jersey accent. “That’s my credo. No ragrets.”
I bit back a smile. “You have no regrets? Like not even a single letter?”
We both laughed at the reference to the movie We’re the Millers, but in the back of my mind, his comment about commitment rang loud and clear. Red flags waved in front of my face, and I knew I couldn’t entertain my crush on the hot British stranger sitting across from me for another second.
“Maybe I can draw you something, and we can face your fear of commitment together.”
He winked, catching my heart completely off guard. I wasn’t expecting those eyes to pierce me so deeply or his gesture to create such a visceral reaction in my chest. I laughed over my discomfort. “No offense, clearly you’re a talented artist, but you don’t know me well enough to create something that will be etched in my skin forever.”
His smile softened while his eyes shone brighter. “Not yet, Chelsea Banks, but give me one week.” He peered down at his menu while he mumbled his next words a little softer, “And I will.”
7
Liam
A door slammed in my dreams, causing my eyes to fly open and my heart to gallop to life. I awoke to the vision of Chelsea in my head, an ache at my groin, sheets around my feet, and my fist wrapped around my cock. I was already in midstroke before I realized what was happening. Sweat beaded on my skin as I worked furiously to release the buildup that suddenly felt excruciating.
I’d been dreaming about the nanny. Full lips, petite height, slim waist, curvy hips. Sure, she was sexy as hell, but she was nothing like the women I went for back home. Chelsea was as pure as they came. She had an innocent outlook, flawless skin, natural everything. But she made me laugh, and I liked the sound of hers.
It wasn’t until my release shot off in a powerful surge that I let out a heavy breath, bringing a wave of relaxation with it. I’d needed that. After everything I’d been through over the last two months, the past two weeks especially, that was the first time I’d truly let go. The burden of breaking the hearts of three women on a single day, all who had confessed to falling in love with me, still ate me up at night. But how was I to know I wouldn’t fall in love with any of them?
“Afraid of commitment” and “the Forever Bachelor” were how the fans of the reality show had labeled me. Maybe they were right. Perhaps I was doomed to live as a single bloke after all.
I shook my head and groaned while stretching out my body. My eyes caught on the digital clock at my bedside, and I cursed. It was already noon. I’d been sleeping the day away without even realizing it. Still, I was groggy as fuck. With a plan to remedy that, I hopped out of bed, brushed my teeth, and quickly rinsed off in the shower. Once clean, I slipped on my swim shorts and headed out the back door to the courtyard.
The second I left the house, I could hear splashing and laughing above the surround sound, but I couldn’t see a bloody thing. The area where Chelsea lived was fairly private with tall shrubs and trees surrounding the gate. I couldn’t even get a glimpse of the area from the house, which I had attempted to do yesterday morning before she showed up to water the plants.
Once I reached the gate entrance and pushed my way inside, I halted completely in my steps. “Oh, shit.”
Chelsea was climbing out of the pool in a hot yellow bikini, her firm bum prominently displayed. She paused at the sound of my voice and snapped her head in my direction. That was when I caught movement from inside the pool. Another woman with a similar bikini style lounged on a large watermelon floatation device with her shades on and her skin glistening.
“Well hey there,” the unknown woman said with a slow-spreading grin.
I lifted my hand in a friendly wave. “Hiya. Apologies, loves. I didn’t know the pool was reserved for the afternoon.”
Chelsea stepped the rest of the way out of the pool and reached for a beach towel that sat on the lounge chair closest to her. “Morning, sleeping beauty,” she said, her gaze traveling slowly over my body.
I pinched my brows together, happy that my shades hid my amusement. “How did you know I was sleeping?”
Her lips twitched, and her cheeks darkened in color, causing a heavy feeling to hit my gut. I remembered the sound of a door slamming when I woke up to find I was giving myself a good wank. Maybe Chelsea had been inside the house. Maybe she’d caught a glimpse of me. The possibility excited me far too much.
Then she shrugged and pointed to my head as she stopped in front of me. “Your hair. You must have been having a good dream.”
Bloody hell, the minx had been there watching me. Too bad she’d left before it got good. “My dreams were excellent, thank you. Would you like to hear about one?”
She let out an airy laugh, and I swore her cheeks pinkened even more. “Maybe some other time.” She waved over the pool. “You’re welcome to join us. There’s room for everyone. That’s my best friend, Maisey.”
“Hello,” I called out to her friend with a short wave.
“Hey there, Liam. I’ve heard lovely things about you.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t believe her. I didn’t say much other than that you saved my life and paid for lunch when it was supposed to be my treat. Oh.” She snapped her fingers as if she’d remembered something else. “And that you’re an artist.”
She dropped her towel back on her chair and walked away from me. I followed her, not knowing where she was going, but I didn’t care much as my eyes fell to that glorious arse. When she stopped at a blue cooler and bent over to grab two beers from it, I wished I’d looked away sooner. The fabric of my trunks twitched with excitement. Then Chelsea whipped back around, handing me a beer. My eyes snapped up to hers a second too late.
“Thirsty?”
She was clearly referring to the beer, but that wasn’t what I was thirsty for, not after watching her strut around the pool soaking wet and confident as hell. When I didn’t say anything, Maisey let out a laugh.
“I’d say he’s thirsty all right, darlin’. Go ahead. Give him a taste.”
I choked on my next words but was saved by the sight of the door to Chelsea’s pool house opening followed by a tall black man emerging. He caught sight of me and greeted me with a “Sup” and an uptick of his head.
My first thought was that this was the man whose willy Chelsea was going on about at the tearoom the other day. My chest tightened, and my jaw ticked with jealousy. I couldn’t possibly feel possessive over a woman I barely knew, but she’d said there was no willy, that it had just been a ruse for Gwen’s benefit.
My cautious eyes tracked the man as he strutted by us. I half expected him to stop in front of Chelsea, but he didn’t even slow his steps before he dove into the pool. When he swam up beside Maisey and planted a fat kiss on her mouth, I swore my entire body exhaled.
I turned back to Chelsea to find her watching me with an amused purse of her
lips. “That’s Maisey’s husband, Roger.”
Swallowing, I shrugged my shoulder to tell Chelsea the information didn’t serve me in the slightest. “Very well.”
Chelsea’s laughter was light. “You sure? Because you looked worried for a minute there.”
I tilted my head and pulled my sunglasses from my head. “Did I? I can’t imagine why.”
She mocked me with a shrug of her own, the playful smile never leaving her gorgeous face. “If you say so.” Then she brushed past me, her plump arse barely gliding against my front, and took a seat on a lounge chair.
Chelsea looked to be in her own world as she picked up a blue notebook and pen that sat beside her. A moment later, she was scribbling away like she’d been struck with a story idea.
I dove into the pool, careful to stay away from Chelsea’s friends, who were making out in the shallow end, and swam enough lengths for my lungs to feel like they were bursting.
I pushed myself out of the water and sat on the edge, trying to catch my breath. When I looked up, I found all three pairs of eyes on me. Roger pointed a finger at me, and for a second, I thought he might have recognized me from British Bachelor.
“Dude. You’re Liam Colborn.”
Shit. Just like that, my pounding heart sank with the weight of being found out. “Um,” I started, my eyes darting to Chelsea. How am I going to explain this one to her without her hating me just like the others?
Roger’s eyes widened when he realized he was correct. “It is you.”
He stood up straight and pointed his finger at me again. I didn’t know if the finger-pointing gesture was an American thing, but it felt bloody rude.
Then Roger’s booming voice started up again. “Eight-time individual gold medalist in two summer Olympics, not to mention a shit ton of group medals. Dude, I was obsessed with your career back in the day. What the hell happened to you?”
