Loving the Storm

by Linda Seed

  “I do, because I love you.”

  That stopped Liam, because he knew it was true, and even he couldn’t give a ration of shit to a woman who was standing there saying she loved him.

  “All right. Then say what you have to say. But I hope this is going to be quick.”

  “It is,” she said. “Just … be careful.”

  That was it? That was all she had to say? “Well, hell.” He took a swig of his beer, grateful that there wasn’t more.

  He should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.

  “There’s something there. With Aria, I mean,” Gen said.

  Now he was the one pushing for information. “Something like what?”

  Gen considered the question. “I don’t know. Not really. But … I talked to her a lot before I offered her the residency. I talked to other people about her. I read articles about her, did my research, saw her resume, all of that.”

  “And?” Now Ryan was interested, too.

  “And, after all of that, I don’t know much more about her than I did when I started.” Gen shrugged.

  “Hmph.” Liam let out a sound that was remarkably similar to the one his mother often made. “You saying you don’t approve?”

  “I’m saying I don’t know if I do or not,” Gen said. “Because I don’t really know her. And it’s not for lack of trying.”

  “Well … maybe she’s just private,” Ryan said.

  “Maybe. But I don’t think so. I think there’s something there.” And without saying what that something might be, she took her glass and went back into the house, leaving Liam and Ryan alone on the porch.

  “What the hell do you suppose she was talking about?” Liam asked Ryan after she was gone. “What kind of something?”

  “You got me,” Ryan said.

  “Well … she’s your wife, you ought to understand her better than I do.”

  Ryan smirked. “If that’s what you think, you’re in for a big surprise if you ever get married.”

  Chapter Nine

  Liam wasn’t sure where he stood with Aria. The idea of sex with no strings or obligations wasn’t completely unappealing. Still, he didn’t want to be that guy who slept with a woman and then ignored her afterward, pretending she’d somehow become invisible, or that their encounter had never happened.

  That was what he told himself as he headed toward the old barn-turned-studio the next day—that he was just going over there to avoid being an insensitive asshole. He wasn’t doing it to see if he could make something happen between them again.

  Still, if that was how things turned out, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?

  He had a lot of work to do on the ranch, and he couldn’t really afford the time to pop in on Aria. On the other hand, what were his parents going to do if he was MIA for a while, fire him?

  When he poked his head into the barn, he could see that she’d made quite a bit of progress on the yurt. She’d started to assemble the support structure, and a rough skeleton was beginning to form.

  “You’re really making progress,” he observed, stepping into the barn.

  She seemed flustered for a moment when she saw him. Then she recovered herself and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  She turned back to what she was doing, resuming her work without engaging with him further. He was sure that was designed to send a message. Some variant of fuck off, most likely.

  Liam considered his options. He could chat her up as though they were friends; he could make another pass at her; he could be blunt and ask her what her intentions were, as though the two of them were living in some kind of Victorian novel; or he could turn around and walk out.

  He chose the first option, the friendly one.

  “Just thought I’d come by and say hello, see how you’re doing,” he offered.

  “I’m doing fine. Thank you for asking.” Her delivery was cool and impersonal.

  “Uh … everything okay with the skylight?” he asked.

  She glanced at him briefly before returning to her work. “It’s hard to tell, since it hasn’t rained. Mostly, it’s just sitting up there.”

  He wasn’t getting anywhere. Time to switch from Option One to Option Three: the blunt approach.

  “What the hell’s going on?” he asked.

  She sighed and put down the piece of trash she’d been working on, turning to face him. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about how you’re pissed off at me, and I don’t know why.”

  “I’m not.”

  He kept his voice neutral. “Well, that’s bullshit, and I guess we both know it.”

  “I didn’t … I’m not …” She threw her hands into the air, flustered. “I’m busy, that’s all.”

  He was quiet for a moment as he considered how to respond to that. Finally, he nodded. “Well, all right. I guess I’ll get going, then.” He felt a little hurt, but his manly pride prevented him from acknowledging it. He turned and started to walk out of the barn.

  “Liam?”

  He stopped. “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry.” And she did look sorry. She looked like a woman who was wrestling with unfathomable issues that Liam couldn’t begin to guess or understand.

  “Well, all right. You’re just having a bad day, I guess. That happens to all of us.”

  “It does.”

  She didn’t offer anything more, so he decided to get out of there and cut his losses. “Listen … you know where to find me,” he told her. “And, feel free to do that. Find me, I mean. Any time.”

  The offer seemed to make her even more uncomfortable than before, and maybe a little sad. “All right,” she said.

  He left the barn before he could screw things up even further, without realizing what he’d done to screw up in the first place.

  Aria was having a bad day, but it wasn’t because she was angry with Liam. Quite the opposite.

  She was having a bad day because she really, really wanted to see him again.

  God, she’d been so rude to him, and she hadn’t meant to be. He hadn’t done anything to deserve it. But if she hadn’t been rude—if she’d been polite or even friendly to him—he wouldn’t have left. And if he hadn’t left, she imagined she’d be naked, sweaty, and out of breath by now, with Liam lying heavily on top of her.

  A large part of her regretted the fact that she wasn’t in exactly that situation, and that made it even more important that she set her boundaries and stick to them.

  She wasn’t going to date Liam Delaney.

  She wasn’t going to sleep with him again.

  And she certainly wasn’t going to fall for him.

  Falling for people led to loving them, and loving people had never led her anywhere she wanted to be.

  Liam had other things to worry about, like the fact that Breanna wanted to drag him over to the house she wanted to buy.

  What did he know about real estate? He’d never bought a house, had never even looked into doing such a thing. He’d lived at the ranch since the day he was born and had slept in the same room all that time. As a Delaney—with all of the wealth that implied—he could have chosen any house in Cambria, or anywhere else, for that matter. But the ranch had everything he needed, and he’d never seriously considered leaving.

  Colin knew about real estate. Hell, even Ryan knew more than Liam did—at least he’d had a house built, so that was something. Liam knew as much about buying a house as he did about performing heart surgery.

  “Come on. Please?” Breanna begged him after breakfast the next morning. “Just take a look and tell me what you think. That’s all I’m asking.”

  The boys didn’t have to leave for school yet, and they were roughhousing with Liam—something he managed to do while still keeping up his end of the conversation. “But why me?” He hefted Michael and tossed him onto the living room sofa as the boy laughed. “What the hell do I know?”

  “You know about houses,” Breanna insisted. “You’
ve spent more than thirty years living in one.”

  “I’ve never bought one,” he grumbled. Lucas launched himself at Liam, who picked him up with one arm and carried him like a sack of laundry. “I’ve never thought about buying one. Hell, I don’t even watch those TV shows you like—the ones with the Realtors and the designers and all that.”

  Breanna had been a fan of HGTV for some time, a fact Liam blamed for his sister’s insistence that she wanted a place of her own. If it hadn’t been for all that talk about bonus rooms and open floor plans, she wouldn’t be planning to leave, and he wouldn’t be wishing he could punch one of those glossed-up TV remodeling experts right in the damned face.

  “Take Dad,” Liam said. “Take Ryan, why don’t you?”

  “Dad’s already seen it, and Ryan’s busy,” she said. “And I’m asking you.” She turned to her sons, who, at eleven and thirteen, were almost too big to play with their uncle, and shooed them upstairs to get dressed for school. Then she went to Liam, hooked her arm in his, and lay her head on his shoulder. “Please?” She batted her dark eyelashes at him.

  “Aw, hell,” Liam said.

  “For God’s sake, boy, go see your sister’s house,” Sandra grumbled at him as she passed through the room on her way from the kitchen to the stairs.

  The truth was, he was pleased that Breanna had asked him, that she wanted his opinion. But he was afraid he wouldn’t be up to the task—that he would give her bad advice, resulting in her committing to a real estate deal she would regret for years to come. Worse, he worried that he would inadvertently talk her into the purchase. He knew he’d miss his sister and nephews if they moved across town.

  Still, his sister was asking him for a favor, and he couldn’t exactly refuse her.

  “Well, all right,” he said. “I guess I can take a look this weekend.”

  “I kind of hoped we could do it today,” she said. “The Realtor says there are other people looking at it, and I don’t want to let it get away.”

  She did the eyelash-batting thing again.

  “Aw, hell,” he said.

  The place was a dilapidated, rambling old farmhouse on Moonstone Beach Drive. The road ran along the Cambria coast, hugging a rugged, rocky beach crowned by a wooden boardwalk. It had mostly been given over to hotels and restaurants that catered to the tourists who flocked here every summer, but a few private homes sat snugged up next to establishments with words like fireside and shores and sea otter in their names.

  At first glance, the house looked like a rundown mess. At second glance, it wasn’t much different. But Breanna was bubbling over with enthusiasm as she and Liam, accompanied by a perky Realtor named Molly, made their way up the front walk.

  “This house dates back to the nineteen twenties,” Molly told them, her heels clicking on the brick walkway.

  “Looks like it hasn’t changed much since then,” Liam muttered.

  “Oh, but Liam, think about how wonderful it’ll be with a little work!” Breanna told him, gushing.

  “The location alone makes it worth the price,” Molly put in.

  That was probably true from a strictly financial standpoint, but even so, the price was substantial. For that, Breanna would get overgrown weeds, peeling paint, and a front porch that was sagging alarmingly. Things were likely even worse inside.

  On the other hand, the lot was surprisingly big for a place at the beach. There was a roomy yard for the boys, and the property included the main house, a big, ramshackle barn, and a little guesthouse.

  “Shall we look at the inside?” Molly suggested. Her voice was annoyingly upbeat, as though Liam and Breanna had just won a selection of valuable prizes.

  “I guess,” Liam allowed.

  The interior of the house was pretty much what Liam had expected. Scarred wood floors, peeling wallpaper, and a musty smell that suggested the place hadn’t been occupied in a while.

  One of the kitchen cabinets was hanging on the wall precariously from one corner, and there was a dead mouse on the floor, its face locked in a permanent grimace.

  “What do you think?” Breanna bounced on her toes in excitement.

  “I think I tend to agree with Mickey over there.” He gestured toward the mouse.

  “Oh, come on,” Brenna said. “I know it needs a lot of work, but have some imagination! It has five bedrooms and a parlor, and Liam, just imagine the boys growing up here, across the street from the beach! They could learn to surf, and—”

  “They could do that now,” Liam observed. “We only live a five-minute drive from the damned beach.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and her face fell. “Do you really hate it?”

  Seeing her suddenly turn sad aroused his brotherly instincts, and he told himself to stop being an ass.

  “Ah … no. I guess it’s got some potential, if someone wanted to put the work into it.”

  “It does! It really does!”

  Molly, looking a little bit smug at this turn of events, gestured toward the stairway. “Shall we take a look around?”

  Liam thought Breanna could do a lot better, given her almost unlimited financial resources. But he had to concede that, given those financial resources, she could really do something with the place.

  “Why has it sat empty for so long?” Liam asked Molly when they were done with their tour of the property.

  “It’s changed hands a number of times,” Molly told them. “Mostly among buyers who intended to use it as an investment. One had planned to tear it down and build a hotel here.”

  “Tear it down!” Breanna said in horror.

  “Another one had planned to flip it, but ran out of money and let it go into foreclosure. The price has come down twice over the past year.” Molly delivered the information as though she expected Breanna to squeal in delight. Which she might have done, if Liam hadn’t cut her off.

  “Bree, if you want a place at the beach, we can find you something on Park Hill, or maybe Marine Terrace. Someplace that’s livable for you and the boys. Someplace that doesn’t need so much work.”

  “But I want to do the work,” Breanna told him.

  It didn’t seem like the kind of conversation they should be having in front of the Realtor, so Liam excused himself, took Breanna by the arm, and led her across the weedy, overgrown yard to the weathered old fence that lined the property.

  “I’m just not sure you know what you’re getting into here,” he said.

  “Neither am I,” Breanna admitted. Her big, dark eyes were shining. “But I need this, Liam. I haven’t had anything of my own since Brian died.”

  Liam blinked at her in surprise. “What do you mean? You have the boys.”

  “Yes, and they’re my whole world. Which is great. But … sometimes I wish my world included other things, too. Things that are just mine.” She put her hand on his arm and squeezed.

  “Well … I don’t see why you need my approval.”

  “I don’t. But it sure would be nice to have it.”

  And all at once he realized how rare it was for anyone to seek his guidance on anything. When people wanted advice, they asked Colin. They asked Sandra. They asked Ryan, especially if the question had anything to do with ranch management or livestock. But it never occurred to anyone to ask Liam. The fact that she was asking now made him feel touched in a way he wouldn’t admit to her, even under threat of torture.

  “Well, I guess I can see how you could turn this place into something.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his face scrunched up in a way that broadcast his misgivings.

  “I could, Liam. I know I could.”

  “Well …” He still felt like he had a brotherly duty to talk her out of it, so he clung to one last argument. “What are you going to do with this much space? It’s only you and the boys.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. She was practically vibrating with excitement. “But I’ll think of something.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What did you let her buy that ramshackle old place for
?” Orin’s face was pinched in dismay, his skin even ruddier than usual.

  “Well, I don’t guess I let her do anything,” Liam protested. “She’s a grown woman.”

  “Yeah, but that old place?” Orin ran a hand over his head. “Why, it’s been sitting there falling apart for as long as I can remember. I was kind of hoping you’d talk her out of it.”

  “He tried,” Breanna said. Orin and Liam had been talking in the living room, and they hadn’t heard her come in. Liam felt a little abashed at having been caught discussing her. “I didn’t want to be talked out of it.”

  “Well …” It was what Orin always said when he didn’t know what to say but didn’t want to concede defeat.

  “Anyway, it’s too late,” Breanna went on. “I put in an offer this afternoon.”

  “Those boys shouldn’t be taken away from their family,” Orin said, in one last effort to argue his point.

  “That part really is unfortunate,” Breanna said, deadpan. “It’s a fifteen-minute drive from here to there. They’re unlikely to ever see you again.”

  “Well …” Orin said again.

  Sandra came in from the kitchen, having apparently eavesdropped on the whole conversation. “Now, Orin, I don’t want you discouraging our girl. I think it’s fine that she’s buying her own place.”

  “Thank you, Mom,” Breanna said.

  “Well, I just think it’s time, that’s all. A woman needs a place that’s just hers, a place where she doesn’t have to compete with her mama to be the queen bee.” She winked at Breanna and let out a rough chuckle.

  “Like I’d even try to compete in this house,” Breanna said.

  “Not if you know what’s good for you, girl,” Sandra said. She puttered around the room straightening things, plumping sofa pillows and picking up empty drinking glasses from the side tables to take them back into the kitchen.

  “It’s going to need work,” Liam put in. “A lot of work.”

  “I know, but that’s the exciting part,” Breanna said. “I can do whatever I want with it—flooring, kitchen countertops, bathroom fixtures—I can really make it mine. I like the floor plan, so if the place is structurally sound—”