Loving the Storm
Page 25
Aria was so nervous she felt sick. Gen seemed equal parts tense and excited, and Aria imagined it was because she didn’t know whether Aria and Liam would kiss or freeze each other out when they finally met.
The car crested a hill, and Gen turned off onto a dirt road that wound through a copse of trees and past the creek.
She pulled into a clearing in front of a pretty two-story house with a big front porch, white wood siding, dark gray trim, and the beginnings of a garden next to where the front walk would be.
The house appeared to be in the late stages of construction, with the porch railing still being built.
“Whose place is this?” Aria asked.
Gen didn’t answer. She just got out of the car, so Aria had no choice but to follow.
Liam was inside the house when he heard Gen’s car pull up.
“Looks like this is the moment, big guy.” Liam’s contractor slapped him on the back. “Good luck.”
Liam swallowed hard. “Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
He walked out the front door to meet Aria.
The first thought that came to Aria’s mind was that Liam was helping a friend work on his house. This probably wasn’t the best place for them to say what they had to say to each other, but it would have to do.
Liam stepped out onto the porch, which was still unpainted, the light wood looking fresh and smooth and spotless in the shade from the house.
“Hello, Aria,” he said. She couldn’t tell what was in his tone. Was it nerves? Relief? Regret?
“Liam. Can we talk?”
“We can. But first, I want to show you around some.” He motioned for her to come up onto the porch, and then he ushered her in the front door.
Confused, she asked, “Is this a friend’s place?”
“Not quite.”
He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he launched into a tour.
“Here’s the front room. Big enough to have people over, if you’re interested in that sort of thing, but still small enough to feel cozy. At least, I think so.” He moved on, and she followed him. “The kitchen’s got an extra-large refrigerator like they’ve got in professional kitchens. Six burners on the stove. I’m not sure why that’s important, but Ryan’s friend Jackson says it is, so …”
He led her through a tour of the pantry, various closets, four bedrooms, bathrooms equipped with double sinks, glass-tiled showers, deep soaking tubs. In the main rooms, oak floors gleamed in warm honey tones. Fireplaces—one in the living room and one in the master bedroom—promised warmth on the chilliest nights.
“So? What do you think?” Liam asked when they’d made the full circuit and were back in the living room in front of the big stone fireplace. His tone was neutral, but she could see that his hands were shaking slightly.
“It’s beautiful. Whose is it?”
“It’s yours,” he said.
Once the words were out, there was no taking them back. Liam waited to see how she would respond. He wasn’t much of a praying man, but he was praying now.
“It’s … what?” She looked a little pale, and her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I built this. Me and a contractor and a crew of guys. For you. For the two of us, I mean.” He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from trembling. “I wanted … I needed to do something to show you that I’m in it forever. You’ve never had a home—not a real one—and I figure that’s one thing I can give you. If you want it. If you want me.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “This can be your home. I can be your home. If you’ll let me.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she blinked to clear them. “You did this for me?”
“For you. For us. Yeah.”
She looked around at the walls, the crown molding, the gleaming floors. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
He looked at her, his face showing nothing. “Well. The question is … do you want it? Do you want me?”
She nodded, the tears spilling onto her cheeks. Her throat was thick with emotion. “Yes. Oh, God. Yes.”
She stepped toward him, and he met her in the space between them, pulling her into his strong, warm arms.
“You’re home, Aria.” He stroked her hair with his hand. “You’re home.”
If they had been alone, he’d have made love to her right there on the floor. But Gen was there with the baby, and so was the contractor, along with a crew of guys who were finishing up the last of the construction. So he had to make do with kissing her long and hard, with his hands holding her face to his.
“I came here to ask you to take me back,” she said when they were pressed together, his body hard against hers, his arms around her. “I didn’t know if you’d say yes. I didn’t know if it was too late.”
“No such thing as too late,” Liam said. “Not with you and me. You could have come back in ten years, and I’d have been waiting.”
“Liam … there are a lot of things that are broken in me.”
He nodded. “That may be true, but we can fix them.” He grinned. “I’ve got a hell of a contractor.”
She didn’t know if things would work between them, or if he’d break her heart into a thousand shattered pieces. But she knew she needed to be with him, no matter the risk.
She would give him her broken pieces and see what he could do with them.
“It’s time to come out of the yurt,” he said, stroking her hair.
“It is,” she answered.
It was time, finally, to come home.
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Like That Endless Cambria Sky
Nearly Wild
Fire and Glass
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A Long, Cool Rain
The Promise of Lightning