by J. H. Croix
Please.
Chapter 12
Olivia
I paced by the arched window in my apartment, my arms crossed over my chest and a restless anxiety pushing me in a tight rotation in front of the window. What had I been thinking, agreeing to let Liam pick me up? It felt like we’d already crossed too many boundaries and him seeing where I lived was yet another. His text had been straightforward enough, but it was as if I could feel him through the words he typed—his sly, boyish grin, his tendency to push me just enough to get my back up. When he’d told me to wear my hair down, I got annoyed and said no. Then, he said please and it totally turned me on. Me, the woman who found sex dry and boring, was turned on by a cocky soccer player using the word ‘please.’ I knew he had his pick of women because most sports stars did. In fact, it had surprised me slightly when some model perfect girlfriend hadn’t shown up the day of the surgery to wait in the waiting room. We were accustomed to that at the clinic.
I’d once had to listen to one woman sob and carefully try not to smear her mascara when I had to give the bad news to her football star boyfriend that he’d torn his ACL one too many times and likely wouldn’t play professionally again. It seemed as if all thoughts led back to Liam. I instantly skipped tracks to considering how American football was so rough on athletes. Liam called himself a footballer, as did the rest of the entire world. Yet, that football, or rather soccer as commonly denoted in the US, came with some risk, but it wasn’t so brutal. Liam’s meniscus tear would become a distant memory for him. His worry was most likely about how it might affect his speed and agility in play.
My thoughts jumped back to worrying about the complete insanity of what I was doing. I shouldn’t be doing anything with Liam, most certainly not having dinner with him. Only about a hundred times today, I’d considered texting him to cancel. Yet, I never did, and he’d be here any minute. I circled back in my tiny loop of pacing, almost jumping at the sound of the knock on the door. My heart was beating wildly, and I was hot and cold at once. I ran a hand over my curls. I’d left my hair down. I’d never bothered to reply to his plea, but I couldn’t have said no again. Me, who never worried about what I wore, had obsessed over what to wear tonight and finally settled on long cotton skirt that hugged my hips and flared around my ankles. Daisy had given it to me for my birthday last year. It was a deep shade of green and, according to her, brought out my eyes. It could pass off as a casual skirt and be nice at the same time. I’d paired it with a white blouse that cinched at the neck and fit loosely. Knowing it was raining out, I’d opted for a practical pair of ankle high leather boots.
I walked to the door and stopped in front of it. I was ridiculously nervous. I tried to remember the last date I’d been on, and I thought it was in college with a guy Daisy had tried to pair me up with. He’d been nice enough and handsome enough, but I was pretty sure I bored him silly and the sex sure had bored me silly. I certainly hadn’t worried about what to wear.
On the heels of a deep breath, I opened the door. Liam stood there, filling the space with his broad muscled shoulders. His dark hair gleamed under the lights in the hall, and his blue eyes were bright and locked onto me.
“Hello luv,” he said.
I’d have to get used to his voice. Every time he spoke, his British accent sent a little curl through my belly. Pushing back against how pleased I was to see him, I arched a brow. “Must you call me that?” I couldn’t admit I was annoyed with myself for secretly enjoying that he called me that, so I projected it onto him.
One side of his mouth hooked in a slow smile. “Yes. I must,” he said with a firm nod. “Shall we go?”
I was nodding before I thought and started to step into the hallway.
“Do you need a jacket?” he asked, a second before I almost locked myself out of my apartment. That’s how flighty Liam made me. I forgot my coat, forgot my purse, and even my keys and was about to traipse off with him.
“Oh right!” I spun around, my eyes scanning for my raincoat. I spied it flung on a chair in the kitchen. I scurried over to snag it, calling over my shoulder as I did. “You can come in. I have to find my purse,” I said.
I pulled my jacket on and saw him step inside and lean his shoulder against the wall by the door. His eyes traveled around the apartment, and I wondered what he thought. I imagined he lived in much nicer digs. It wasn’t that I didn’t have a nice apartment, but it was small and simple. I could afford more, but I didn’t think it was worth the bother since I worked so much. The loveseat, an ottoman and a large chair took up most of the living room. A fireplace I rarely used sat dark. The kitchen was a small nook with a round table and chairs. I had enough taste to care about my space, so I had brightly colored rugs and sheer white curtains, along with artwork on the walls.
I didn’t see my purse anywhere and wondered where it was. Even a search in my bedroom didn’t turn it up. As a last resort, I checked the bathroom and found it there on the sink counter, precisely where I’d wandered when I was texting Liam and needed to clean my glasses. I grabbed it and returned to the living room.
“Okay, I found everything.”
“Everything?” Liam asked, the dark slash of a brow arcing up.
“Well, maybe not everything, but all I need for now.”
He nodded and pushed his shoulder off the wall, holding the door as I walked through.
I’d wondered where he planned to take me and even wondered if he was driving. I quickly learned he wasn’t driving when he led me to the light rail system. Despite the soft rain falling, the railcar was crowded. Liam startled me when he curled his hand around mine and pulled me close to his side as the bustle of people jostled me. I glanced around the railcar at one point and noticed several women unabashedly eyeing him. Whether they knew who he was, he was a magnet simply because he was mouth-wateringly handsome. It felt strange to be with him like this. No matter my reservations about our quite recent doctor-patient relationship, I wasn’t used to going anywhere with a man, much less a man who was pursuing me the way Liam was. I wasn’t accustomed to the kind of attention he gave me—as we rode along, his eyes flicked down, and it felt as if he was touching me everywhere he looked. My nipples tightened, and I shifted my legs, feeling that restless need unfurl inside.
We got off by the airport with me still wondering where Liam was taking me. He paused on the sidewalk, his eyes scanning the row of businesses and then turned to the right. I could sense he was measuring his stride and resisted the urge to tell him he was clearly recovering nearly perfectly. He had the slightest hitch in his gait and nothing more. I didn’t really want to go all doctor on him, so I held my tongue as we walked quietly through the softly falling rain. Somewhere along the way, his palm found its way to my low back, a warm point of contact that I savored.
He paused and looked to his side. “Here we are,” he announced.
I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t been paying attention to precisely where we were because I’d been too distracted by the heat of Liam’s palm on my back. We stood in front of one of my absolute favorite restaurants—13 Coins. By some sleight of hand, 13 Coins was all things at once. Years ago, it had started as a diner and morphed into something else with a massive menu that offered everything from diner basics to high-end gourmet meals. It was a place where you could feel comfortable wearing just about anything. I loved it because the food was amazing, the atmosphere comfortable, and it happened to have been my parents’ favorite restaurant. When I was little, they used to load me up in the car and drive the hour plus to get here for Sunday brunch once a month. It was also where they’d gone every year for their anniversary.
I looked from the entrance to him. A slow smile stretched across his face. “Have I decided on a good place, then?”
“One of my favorites. Have you been here before?”
A smile stretched across his face. He was clearly pleased with himself. With subtle pressure, he nudged me through the entrance and out of the ra
in. “Eh, no. One of the guys at the stadium told me about it.”
I flipped my hood back and gave my jacket a gentle shake. Liam’s palm had left my back while he ran a hand over his damp hair. He’d eschewed the use of his hood, leaving his hair damp from the heavy drizzle. I missed his touch already. The entryway had a few people waiting, but it wasn’t too bad for a Saturday evening. Liam stepped to the reception desk and before he even spoke, the woman working there smiled the moment she saw him. “Mr. Reed, you’re right on time,” she said with a glance to her watch. She picked up two menus and gestured for him to follow. “Right this way.”
In moments, we were seated at one of the booths. 13 Coins had tall, leather backed seats that stretched to the ceiling, creating a warm, cozy feeling no matter which booth you were seated in. The space was all gleaming mahogany wood with leather. Though it was always busy, and I do mean always, the noise was never too much with the private booths. As with most older diners, the restaurant was open 24 hours a day with a menu so extensive one could eat there for every meal every day of the week and barely make a dent in the choices.
The hostess hardly granted me a glance, her eyes flicking to Liam even when she was taking my drink order. Needing something to take the edge off the wild restlessness inside, I ordered a pomegranate martini. Liam ordered a dark beer. The hostess went her way, and Liam leaned back with a sigh, his deep blue eyes bright in the soft lighting. “So tell me why this place is so amazing.”
I fiddled with the place setting, unrolling the crisp white napkin around it and laying it on my lap as I replied. “It’s been around forever. Well, maybe not forever but over fifty years. Trust me when I say it’s a favorite of many, not just me. You can have everything from biscuits and gravy to glazed fresh caught salmon.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Biscuits with gravy? A bit odd if you ask me.”
“Oh, they’re delicious. Must be an American thing.”
“Odd, I say. Do you select what kind of biscuit? Say chocolate, or other?”
“Chocolate biscuits? Now that’s odd.”
Our waiter arrived to hear the tail end of our back and forth. He glanced between us. “Language barrier,” he announced with a grin.
Liam and I swung to him simultaneously. The waiter’s grin widened. “Brits call cookies biscuits. A chocolate cookie would be horrible with gravy. I’m sure you’d both agree,” he said, his eyes bouncing between us as he served our drinks. He wore the usual black slacks and crisp white shirt for the staff there. “I’m Forrest by the way, and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear our specials tonight?”
At Liam’s nod, Forrest reeled off a list of specials. Liam graciously asked what Forrest would recommend from the menu when he started to flip through it. Forrest gamely began making a wide variety of suggestions. Liam’s brows rose slightly with each additional dish. By the time Forrest finished, Liam had leaned back and started shaking his head. “That’s a smashing long list. Can’t remember a bit. Think I’ll go with the cookies and gravy,” he said with a slow grin and a wink in my direction.
I flushed and rolled me eyes. “How was I to know biscuits are cookies to you? It’s not like you knew what I meant either. Anyway, are you sure you want that for dinner? It’s kind of a breakfast thing.”
Liam nodded firmly. “I love gravy, and I love breakfast.”
I glanced to Forrest. “If we’re going to eat breakfast dishes, I’ll go with an omelet.”
“It’s a breakfast dinner then,” Forrest said with a grin. “Any appetizers to go with that?”
After we shook our heads, Forrest departed and I took a sip of my martini, savoring the sweet tang of pomegranate. Liam took a long drag on his beer and idly rolled the bottle around after he set it down, his eyes pinned to me. I wasn’t accustomed to the kind of attention he gave me. I crossed and uncrossed my legs and took another few sips of my martini. It was safe to say Liam’s mere presence was overwhelming for me. My comfort zone was at work where I called the shots and focused on dry, clinical details. Being with Liam elicited a constant sense of being off balance between my body’s haywire response to him and my own warring emotions. I wished I had the suave social banter skills the hostess had. She’d seamlessly flirted with Liam. Meanwhile, my brain went right to wondering what to say and how to say it.
Liam saved me from obsessing much longer. “So you must come here often if it’s one of your favorites.”
I shrugged. “As often as I get out, I suppose I come here a lot. Not as much as when I was little. My parents used to bring me here every month for Sunday brunch. We lived about an hour outside of Seattle, and it was an event.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but I didn’t know what it was. “Do they still live nearby?” he asked, the next logical question.
“Not for a long time. They died in a car accident when I was ten. There’s no need to apologize,” I said, warning him off. I’d given this answer so many times, I was used to people feeling they must say they were sorry. “My mother’s twin sister raised me after that, and she’s still right where I grew up.”
His eyes had gone dark, and he was quiet for a long moment. “Perhaps it’s not necessary, but I am sorry. It’s hard to lose a parent, much less both at once the way you did.”
Something about the look on his face evoked a strong sense of loss and pain. I didn’t know why, but I knew it wasn’t simply because he’d learned my parents had died. “Are you okay?” I asked, not knowing why I felt compelled to ask.
His jaw tightened, and he took a quick gulp of his beer before replying. “My mum died of a stroke. Just a few months ago,” he said, his voice almost wondering as if he couldn’t quite believe it had happened.
“Oh Liam, I’m so sorry,” I said. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached across the table with one hand and curled it around his, giving a squeeze.
His shoulders tensed and then relaxed when he returned the squeeze. “Can’t say I’m quite used to it yet.”
“Is your family close?”
He nodded, his throat moving with a swallow. “I worry about my dad. I might’ve fought against coming to the team here, but I’ve two brothers and they’re nearby in London. They all insisted I do just as I would’ve if mum was alive. I’m bloody relieved Alex signed with me. We’ve been best mates since we were but lads, and he knows how close I was to my mum. It’s not as bad as it was, but then I suppose you know that.”
My heart clenched at the sadness held in Liam’s usually teasing gaze. It was plain as day he’d loved his mother and was still reverberating from her death. I wanted to smooth the edges of his pain and I hardly knew him. Not really. “I have an idea. Loss is a strange thing. I was so much younger than you are, so I’m guessing it was different. You never stop missing people you lose, but you do get used to it. It’s almost like it sharpens all the good, and you learn memories can help eventually.”
He was quiet, his eyes considering. He finally nodded slowly. At that moment, Forrest stopped by the table. I hadn’t realized I’d nearly emptied my martini. “Another drink while you wait for your meal?”
Liam slipped his hand free of mine as he lifted his beer bottle, as if testing its weight. At his nod with mine following, Forrest spun away. Liam caught my eyes. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “Not everyone understands, but I can tell you do.” He leaned back and gave his head a little shake. “This is the part where we awkwardly move on.”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. We could be maudlin all evening if we dwelled on the topic, so I was happy to move on. Before I had a chance to say anything else, Forrest returned with our drinks. “Food will be ready in just a few,” he said as he kept moving.
A while later, I was laughing so hard, I’d almost spit my food out. Aside from being so handsome and sexy he nearly melted me, Liam was a funny and engaging dinner companion. He’d declared the biscuits and gravy his new favorite dish and had been regaling me with stori
es about pranks he and Alex played on friends during grammar school, which I’d learned was the British equivalent of grade school.
After Liam paid for dinner, which I’d started to argue about and he’d pinned me with a glare, we walked out into the chilly drizzle. The street glittered under the lights cast onto its wet surface in the dark. Liam’s palm was warm on my back as he guided me onto the railcar. We managed to find seats now that the work rush was over. Once we were seated, I became hyperaware of Liam’s closeness. His thigh, every hard, muscled inch of it, rested against mine. My pulse skittered and heat coiled low in my belly. I couldn’t help but glance up to find him looking down as if he’d been waiting. Without a word, he slid his hand onto my thigh, the heat of his touch branding me.
I tore my eyes away where they landed on an ad mounted directly across from us inside the rail car. It just so happened to be an ad for the Seattle Stars, Liam’s new team. The ad featured a shot of Liam himself, his leg angled out as it connected with the ball. Even in a still photo, he conveyed a sense of power and motion. My pulse notched higher and my attention zeroed in on where his palm rested on my thigh. Desire, the very desire only Liam could elicit, rolled through me in a hot rush. I fought against clenching my thighs together when my channel throbbed.
Chapter 13
Liam
I sat beside Olivia and did my damnedest to keep from sliding my hand between her knees. Dinner with her had been divine. A distant corner of my mind kept nudging me with the persistent suggestion that what I was doing with Olivia wasn’t anything of the usual sort when it came to women. I generally didn’t take women on dinner dates, unless it happened by chance, such as I was out with my mates and we ended up at a restaurant and there were women there with us. It wasn’t that I was opposed to the idea, but I’d simply never met a woman who inclined me to ask. Olivia had surprised me tonight. Oh, she had her moments of sternness, but it was as if she’d decided to cease worrying about whether it was proper to have dinner with me.
