Loving the Storm

by Linda Seed

  Still, he was making Breanna happy, and that was something.

  “I thought … Oh, it doesn’t matter what I thought,” Breanna said, giddy with happiness.

  “You thought I was going to give you hell for buying a rundown house that’s been occupied mainly by rats and spiders for the past twenty years,” Colin said, deadpan.

  “Well … yes.”

  “I guess that’s why you didn’t ask me what I thought beforehand.” Colin handled the family corporation’s finances, and consulting him about money matters was usually a given—until Breanna had rebelled.

  She looked embarrassed. “I didn’t want you to try to talk me out of it. I love it, Colin. This house makes me happy. And I didn’t want to be talked out of something that makes me happy.”

  “Fair enough,” Colin said.

  Breanna and Julia started talking about things like area rugs and kitchen upgrades, and they walked inside, leaving Colin and Liam standing on what would be the front yard but was now just a mass of wild grass, weeds, and poison oak.

  Liam glanced at his brother. “You really think she got a good deal?”

  Colin nodded thoughtfully. “Probably. But renovating this place is going to be one hell of a headache, even with a top contractor.”

  Liam sighed and clapped Colin companionably on the back. “Come on. Let’s go in and take a look at the damage.”

  It was nice having Colin and Julia back home, even if it was only for a week. What was nicer still was the fact that Liam’s cousin, Drew, had declined an invitation to come to the ranch for Christmas.

  Liam had no hard feelings toward Drew—not really. But that didn’t mean he wanted to have to watch him and Megan making kissy faces at the dinner table every night for as long as they decided to stay.

  In truth, Drew had every right to be here, as he was part owner of the ranch, besides being family. If he had decided to come, Liam would have had to suck it up. It was just easier with Drew up there in British Columbia and Liam down here.

  The guy had stolen Liam’s girlfriend—which wasn’t a helpful way to think of it, he supposed, since she was a woman and not a possession to be owned or taken—and he’d also stolen Liam’s sense that he’d really known his uncle.

  Truth be known, that was the worst thing. Liam had loved Megan, but they’d never been a good match. But what Liam had felt for his uncle Redmond? That was real. That was true. Until they’d all found out about Drew, throwing everything any of them had known about the man into question.

  Liam thought about all of that as he sat on the sofa at the ranch house, watching Breanna, Lucas, and Michael putting decorations on the big, green Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room.

  The boys were arguing about where a particular ornament—Darth Vader’s head, with a festive red bow at the top—should be placed on the tree, and Breanna was mediating the argument, trying to find a suitable compromise that would satisfy both of the kids.

  “I thought you were done decorating that tree weeks ago,” Liam observed.

  “So did I,” Breanna said, shooting a reproving but affectionate look at her boys. “But then Lucas saw these Star Wars ornaments and just had to have them, and now here we are.”

  “Star Wars is stupid,” Michael put in.

  The kids bickered about that a little as Liam half listened to them. He enjoyed the noise of a full house, even if it came in the form of arguing. But the place didn’t feel as full as it should have, not without Redmond. The man had been mostly silent as a rule, but still, without him, the house seemed quieter than normal, less full of life.

  Thinking about Redmond made him think about the inevitability of death, which made him think about the necessity of living life to its fullest, which made him think about maybe having his own kids someday—which made him think about Aria.

  “Have you seen Aria lately?” Breanna asked, as though she’d read his mind.

  “Hmm?” He was roused out of his reverie by her question. “Uh … yeah. I saw her for a bit this afternoon.”

  By “seeing her,” he meant, of course, that he’d gone over to the guesthouse and made love with her. That was what they did, mostly—they had life-changing sex, then they both got dressed, said their goodbyes, and went about their daily routines. Since that night at Ted’s, they’d fallen into that pattern, which was not at all unpleasant.

  But Liam wanted more, and he knew he’d have to proceed carefully in order to get it. She’d taken a big step that night when she’d told him everything she had, but that didn’t mean he could push her even further. He had to ease her along.

  “So, what are you going to give her?” Breanna asked.

  “Give her?” He blinked like a baby bird emerging from its egg into the sunlight.

  “Yeah. For Christmas. Give her. The way people do.”

  “Well … shit.”

  It wasn’t that it had never occurred to him to give her a gift. It was just that the question of what to give her was so fraught with danger that he’d put the question out of his mind. Now that Breanna had brought it up, he realized that he didn’t have much more time to delay. Christmas was in three days.

  “You didn’t get her anything,” Breanna said flatly, her tone of voice broadcasting her harsh judgment of him.

  “Well … I wasn’t quite sure what to get.”

  She looked at him with pity. “It’s a good thing you have me.”

  “What, you’re gonna help?”

  “Of course I’m going to help. You think I’m going to let you show up on Christmas morning and give the woman in your life a toaster? Or the clock you got for opening a new account at the bank?”

  “I didn’t open a new account at the bank, smartass,” Liam said.

  “But if you had, you’d be giving her the clock. Don’t deny it.”

  Breanna was looking at him with a combination of scorn and affection. It was the affection that made him squirm. The scorn, he was used to.

  “I wouldn’t give her the damned clock.”

  She scowled at him, letting him know she wasn’t so sure that was true.

  “Let me think about it,” she said. “I’ll kind of poke around and get back to you.”

  He wasn’t entirely sure what poking around entailed, but he knew it sounded uncomfortable.

  The poking didn’t take much time. By the next morning, Breanna had decided what Liam should give Aria.

  “I talked to Gen, and she says Aria likes Daniel Reed.”

  For a moment, Liam thought she was suggesting that Aria wanted the actual man—which would, obviously, be out of the question, at least from Liam’s perspective. Then he realized with some relief that she was talking about his art.

  “What, the glass?”

  “No, a little Daniel Reed action figure. Yes, the glass, you idiot.” Breanna had her hands on her hips in much the stance their mother used when she was scolding them about something.

  “Okay. Okay.” Liam nodded. “So, what, should I go to Gen’s gallery to pick something out?” The Porter Gallery usually carried a selection of Daniel’s glass pieces.

  “No, Gen says you should go to his studio. She’s got a few things, but she’s sold most of the best stuff. There’s a better selection at Daniel’s place right now. She says he’s been working on some new things that she hasn’t seen yet, and you might want to take a look.”

  Liam’s head bobbed. “I can do that.”

  It seemed like a good solution. Personal, but not so personal that it would freak Aria out. Expensive enough to say she meant something to him, but not so extravagant that it would make her think he was overstepping the bounds of their current relationship, or using his fortune to buy her affections.

  Giving gifts to women was a minefield, and Liam would just be grateful if he could get to the other side with all of his body parts intact.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Liam went out to Daniel Reed’s studio just after lunch. By the time Liam had called him to set up the vi
sit, Daniel had already spoken to Gen and had set aside a few things to show him.

  It was a cold, overcast day, and Liam pulled his jacket around him as he walked from his truck and down a dirt path lined with tall grass to the outbuilding that served as Daniel’s studio.

  Despite the chill, Reed’s T-shirt was damp with sweat around his neck and armpits when he answered the door. Once Liam stepped inside, he knew why.

  The man had no fewer than three furnaces going, and the inside of the studio had to have been more than ninety degrees despite the fact that the windows were open. Liam stripped off his jacket as soon as he stepped inside.

  “I guess we should leave the door open, let in a little cool air,” Daniel said. “I forget how hot it gets in here.” He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

  Reed was a tall, dark-haired guy women found especially attractive—at least, according to Gen. And it must have been true, because the guy had managed to marry the smoking hot Lacy Jordan, who’d been one of the most sought-after women in town until Daniel had taken her off the market. Liam talked to him from time to time, mainly because he was Ryan’s friend, and because he worked with Gen. That was how it was in small towns—all interconnected.

  “So, you and Aria Howard,” Daniel said, leaning his rear against a worktable covered in various cast iron implements used for God knew what.

  “Yeah, so? What about it?” Liam knew he was going to come off as a dick, but so much of the time, he couldn’t seem to help himself. It was just his way.

  Daniel shrugged. “Don’t get your panties all twisted. I’m just making conversation.”

  Daniel was a good guy, mostly, so Liam wasn’t sure at first why he felt like punching him in the face. Then, on reflection, he knew. It was because Aria had told him that she and Daniel were friends, and that they’d spent some time together working on her yurt.

  Liam was jealous, especially since he was now, for the first time, noticing Reed’s pecs, and his height, and the robustness of his hair, and all of the other things guys didn’t notice about other guys until they sensed there was a need to compete.

  He forced himself to relax and bring his shoulders down from where they’d been perched somewhere up around his ears.

  “My panties are fine,” Liam said. “I mean … shit. Yeah. Me and Aria Howard.”

  Daniel nodded, appraising Liam, his arms crossed over his chest. “Okay.”

  There was something in the okay, something fraught with meaning.

  “Spit it out, Reed. You’ve got something to say, so say it.” Might as well get it all out on the table so Liam would know whether he could get in that punch after all.

  Daniel shrugged. “She’s great, that’s all. But she’s going to be … a challenge. For you, I mean. I’m just wondering if you’re up to it.”

  Liam’s hackles rose, and he puffed up a bit, ready for a confrontation. Then, without warning, his defenses fell and his shoulders sagged. He rubbed his face with his hands.

  “Well, hell. I hope so.”

  Apparently, that was the right answer, because Daniel seemed to relax a little. Then he smiled and smacked Liam on the back. “Come on, I’ll show you what I’ve got finished. Lucky for you, she told me what she liked.”

  It turned out that what Aria liked was a six-foot-tall sculpture that Daniel had been making for the lobby of a boutique hotel in New York. The piece was done in shades of blue and green, and it had a kind of amorphous shape that dipped and swirled in various places. Liam thought that it looked familiar somehow, though he’d never seen anything exactly like it. Then he realized: It looked like water. It looked like an ocean wave that had been thrown skyward by a storm and had frozen in place.

  “Wow.”

  Daniel appraised his own work with his hands on his hips. “I’ve been working with the idea of water—ocean water, specifically—since I did that big piece for Eden.”

  The job—a ceiling fixture for a Las Vegas hotel and casino—had been a turning point in Daniel’s career. Liam had never seen it in person, but he’d seen pictures. This new piece was similarly inspired but had a feel and a shape all its own.

  “Obviously, you can’t give her this,” Daniel said, gesturing toward the man-sized sculpture. “But I did some small studies of this concept that might work for you.” He took Liam over to a big wooden cabinet, opened it, and carefully took out a piece about the size of a large apple. It didn’t have the grandeur of the larger piece, but it had the same colors, the same sense of motion. The same … Liam searched for a word, and then found it. The word was grace.

  “That’s beautiful.” Liam wasn’t the kind of guy to particularly appreciate art, nor was he the kind of person to give compliments out of courtesy, especially to a guy he saw as a potential rival. But, screw it. The truth was the truth.

  Daniel set the piece on a worktable and stood back, looking pleased. “Yeah, I think that ought to work.”

  “How much?”

  Daniel told him, and Liam thought it sounded about right. He’d be spending enough for it to mean something, but not enough to scare her away.

  Money changed hands, Daniel packaged the piece in a box with plenty of bubble wrap, and Liam figured his business here was done. He thanked Daniel and headed toward the door.

  “Don’t give up,” Daniel said to Liam’s back when he’d just about passed through the doorway.

  Liam stopped and turned, his eyebrows raised in question.

  Daniel looked uncomfortable, and he fidgeted a little, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m just saying … she really likes you. A lot. So … she’s going to make it hard for you, but keep trying.”

  Aria was definitely not getting Liam a gift for Christmas. Gifts were for children and for people with whom you were in a relationship. Liam didn’t fit either of those criteria, so why should she bother herself with choosing a gift?

  The very fact that she was going to his house for Christmas dinner said relationship in giant neon letters. If she gave him a gift on top of that, the whole thing would be blown out of proportion, and before she knew it, she’d be washing his socks and nursing him to health the next time he caught a cold.

  No. She would show up to visit the family—a family being hospitable to a guest on their property—and nothing more. She’d bring a nice hostess gift for Sandra, the things she’d bought for the boys, and a little something for Gen and Ryan’s baby.

  That would have to be enough.

  She was already nervous as hell about the dinner. Adding gift-giving anxiety to the mix might just put her so far over the edge that she would be unable to function.

  The whole Delaney family. At the same time. On a major holiday. Scrutinizing her for her potential as a mate for Liam.

  When she thought about it, she alternated between chastising herself for agreeing to such a thing and reminding herself that if she didn’t go to the Delaney house for the holiday, she would be alone.

  And being alone sucked, especially at Christmas.

  She was running all of that through her head the morning of Christmas Eve when Gen called.

  They chatted about how she and the baby were doing and who was and was not getting any sleep, and then Gen got to the real point of her call.

  “You’re still coming, right?”

  “You know, I’m not really sure that—”

  “Don’t do that.” Gen’s tone was stern. “Don’t give me some excuse for why you can’t come, because it won’t work—it’s going to be so transparent that we’ll all be at the dinner table talking about you, and I know you don’t want that.”

  Aria, alone in the guesthouse, was taken aback by that thought. “You’ll all talk about me?”

  “Of course. We’ve already exhausted every other topic of conversation.”

  “But—”

  “Just come.” Gen’s voice was softer now, somewhere between a wheedle and a plea. “It’ll be fun, and Sandra’s a really good cook. What are you going to eat if you’re
in the guesthouse alone? A frozen Swanson’s dinner?”

  That was exactly what she had planned, but Aria didn’t say that. She wondered for a moment why Gen was being so insistent, and then it came to her.

  “Liam told you to call me.”

  Gen didn’t answer, and that was, in itself, an answer.

  “Oh, God, he did. I knew it.”

  “Aria—”

  “Why didn’t he call me himself if he’s worried about it? Why—”

  “Because he really wants you there, but he doesn’t want to pressure you.”

  “But it’s okay if you pressure me?”

  “Apparently,” Gen said wryly, as though she’d made that argument to Liam herself, unsuccessfully.

  “Look, Gen …”

  “Sandra’s been cooking for days.” Apparently, Gen thought the Sandra guilt approach would work better than the prospect of Aria potentially disappointing Liam. “She baked twelve kinds of cookies. Twelve.”

  “Well, I’m sure she didn’t do that for me.”

  “She normally bakes two kinds, three max. But she asked Liam what your favorite kind was, and he didn’t know, so she baked twelve kinds just to cover all the bases.”

  Aria stood with the phone in her hand, speechless and wide-eyed. Then she realized she was being manipulated—and artfully, at that.

  “She did not. You made that up.”

  “Well? Did it work?” Gen said.

  Aria didn’t want to admit that yes, it sort of had.

  “I don’t know why you think I’ve changed my mind,” she told Gen. “I said I would be there, and I’ll be there.”

  “Oh.” Gen sounded surprised. “Good. Great. That’s great.”

  Aria ended the call cursing her stupidity—not just for agreeing to come to the Delaney Christmas dinner, but also for getting involved with Liam in the first place. For letting him get to her. For letting her stupid, pathetic self fall in love.

  As soon as that thought popped into her head, she knew it was true. She was in love with Liam.

  God help her—and him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Christmas morning was cold and clear, with frost on the ground and the smell of the ocean in the air. Aria bundled up in a pair of fleece-lined jeans, boots, a sweatshirt, and a down jacket, then poured hot coffee into a Thermos and headed out to the barn, her shoes crunching on the dirt path.